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starry-bi-sky · 3 months ago

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I absolutely love your older brother Danyal Who left to protect Damian story, can you add on to it because I wanna know how he would interact with the family and maybe he knew Jason when he was in the league before he left or He would turn invisible and spy on the batfam to check up on Damian from time to time so he knows things about them

i've actually thought about Jason knowing about Danny in the League before! I made a little meme about it in one of my meme dump posts! Ultimately it's non-canon to the au and would have to be part of an offshoot branch or a variant of the au due to continuity reasons.

Meaning that if Jason knew about Danyal, I don't think Damian would have been able to keep his existence (and "death") a secret for long. Or at least long enough for it to be revealed that he was alive. Jason would have asked about Danny at some point, maybe even right away upon re-entering the family and seeing Damian there, depending on the context. I can see him asking whether in front of everyone and in private too, depending on that context as well.

Ooooo and! I just remembered this, but there's no guarantee that Danny and Jason would have even met while Jason was in the league too -- some depictions I've seen of this au have Jason around while Damian is still a baby, or as a young kid. The timelines are notoriously wonky. -- and Danyal "died" when Damian was five. Depending on the ages, the timeline, and all that jazz, Jason could have very well entered the League when Damian was five sometime after Danyal's death.

Or he could've been there to see Danyal, meet him, and eventually become close enough to him to figure out that Danyal deeply adored his little brother and everything he did was ultimately meant to be for his benefit -- in a twisted up way. Hey, we could even go a step further and say he was there the night Danny got his facial scar. It really would all depend.

But that would require me sitting down and recharting the timeline in order to fit that in without any significant plot holes; like deciding ages, how long Jason's with the League before splitting (ultimately he spent five years away from Gotham before returning. How many of those years am I willing to keep him in the au?), when he was there, etc.

Something I am simply not interested nor have the energy to do for this au this far in ashdgf. So for the sake of my own sanity and the continuity of the main au: Jason did not know nor know about Danyal in the League.

However its still a fun idea to think about! So some things I've thought about if Jason did know Danyal in the league:

- For the hispanic jason truthers: Jason sometimes called him diablito; 'little devil' since the whole 'grandson of the demon head' thing.

- Danyal had a habit of sitting right outside Damian's room at night to listen for intruders, something he's done since Damian was a baby after the initial attack that resulted in his scar. Jason would sometimes sit with him if he found him like that.

- If Jason was present -- both physically and mentally -- for the day Damian was born, he saw firsthand the way Danny was so happy to meet him. The light shining in Danyal's eyes as baby Damian latched onto his fingers is not something he could ever forget.

- This means he was also there the day Danyal got his scar a few days later. Bursting into the nursery with Talia and seeing Danny hovered in front of the crib, almost drenched in blood with his face split open, is not something he'll forget either.

- (fun fact, did you know that head injuries bleed the most even if it's a shallow cut? Danny's scar, which in order to still be prominent at 15, would be from his hairline to his jaw, would've been bleeding profusely. And scars shrink with age! This is not only because of healing, but because your body grows except the scar doesn't. This i know from personal experience -- i have a scar on my knee from 2nd grade that used to stretch horizontally from kneecap to kneecap and needed two large bandaids to cover. But now is barely any longer than the first joint of my pinkie. It has not faded.)

- Nor will he forget the thousand yard stare in Danny's little blue eyes as he looked up at Talia and, in a little voice, said; "They were gonna hurt Damian, momma."

- He and Talia both tried convincing Danny to use the lazarus pits to heal his face without a scar, Danny refused and kept refusing. It was proof he'd protected his brother and he wouldn't accept any of their reasoning. It hasn't impaired his sight or ability.

- Jason held his hand while the cut got stitched up. Danyal didn't cry once. He stared at the wall over the doctor's shoulder, and the only indication that Jason knew he was in pain was when his grip tightened in his hand.

- Jason left shortly after Damian turned three, so he was somewhat aware that Danny was going to begin distancing himself from Damian. Damian's memories of him in the League are fuzzy at best.

- When Damian joined the family and Jason was hanging around/reconciled with them, he asked Damian in the cave about Danyal. He said; "By the way, where's Danyal? I'm surprised he's not hovering by your side."

- He did not like the way Damian tensed up and refused to meet his eyes. When Damian finally revealed that Danyal was dead, he refused to believe it, and continued to refuse to believe it long afterward. Danyal? Gone? The little eldest demon was dead? That sounded completely unlike him. That boy was too stubborn and loved Damian too much to stay buried.

- They got into an argument about it right there in the cave. Jason thought Damian was lying to him, and Damian was not appreciating how much Jason cared nor him saying Damian was a liar.

- Jason has a few photos of him and Danyal and Damian in the league. All of them happened when Damian was too young to remember them. He has one or two photos of Danyal before he got his scar. He eventually shares these with Damian.

- I did have one idea where he found Danny in Amity Park once and had to be threatened by Danyal to not tell anyone.

okay that's all i've got for now. Onto the others!

"[or] would [he] turn invisible and spy on the batfam to check up on Damian from time to time so he knows things about them"

He wouldn't do this actually! Danyal is essentially in something like deep cover right now, and his whole reason for leaving the League is the belief that him being near Damian or the two of them being together is dangerous to Damian. That they will eventually be pitted against each other, and Danyal refuses to harm his brother in any sort of capacity.

The very last thing he would do is try and do anything that would indicate that he was alive -- including going invisible and flying over to Gotham to see Damian. The Waynes would figure out eventually that they were being spied on. They have experience with the paranormal and the weird due to Gotham shenanigans and basic hero craziness. They have incredible reflexes and intuition, you know how people can feel it when they're being stared at? That. That would happen, and when they can't shake the feeling of being watched, they'd get paranoid and seek out the cause of the feeling.

In some issues, afaik, Wayne Manor has protections against magical creatures. That place is more secure than Fort Knox; Danyal would not be able to get in or near it without triggering some sort of alarm.

And so, Danyal would do the opposite, and in fact would avoid Gotham like the plague -- in order to stay away from Damian, he has to stay away from Damia. And he'd probably avoid some of the cities where he knows his father's affiliates and allies lay, just to be safe. This is relatively easy to do since he's 15 and not leaving Amity Park any time soon.

If, for any reason, his foster family or school (for the 'visiting gotham' trope) made a plan to visit Gotham, Danyal would find a way to get out of it, by any means necessary.

It's just not a risk he's willing to take, and the 'deep cover' thing is something I mentioned in my Ellie and Damian Meeting oneshot (its in a reblog of my "danny and dani meeting" post). The only reason Damian hasn't immediately flown out to Danyal is because of two main reasons:

he has no idea where he is

Bruce forbade it for the time being because it could spook Danny off.

If Danny found out that Damian knew he was alive, knew where he was, and was going to come see him, there's no guarantee that Danny will just... stay. There's no guarantee that Danyal won't freak the fuck out and disappear off the radar, and then they'll be back to square one. Finding and meeting Danyal requires patience and proper planning, they can't dive headfirst into this.

Besides! Danny keeps tabs on Damian and his father (and eventually by extension his siblings) through news reports and articles about them! Sure not all of them are truthful, but the things reporting their actions, whereabouts, etc, he keeps and prints out and puts in a little shoebox/scrapbook in his room!

The folder on his father is huge because he started it a few months into moving in with the Fentons and it spans back decades. and Damian's is currently the smallest since he just recently appeared in public eye. Most of it is things like, Wayne Inc announcements for charities, galas, etc. Not tabloids or gossip. Positive publicity stuff.

He keeps them under his bed, and he pulls out his father's scrapbook to tell him about patrol whenever he comes back and needs to stitch himself up. It lets him pretend that he's actually telling his father about what he's done.

As for Danny interacting with the fam -- it'd be awkward but non-hostile! Danny's... not sure how to act with them, he'd be not unlike a skittish stray cat that you're trying to befriend who keeps running away. He only knows them from what he's parsed out from news articles written about them -- both civilian and hero -- and anything Talia's told him.

There's for sure a resemblance between him and Damian in more than just looks -- they both hold this sort of powerful or confident air around them that seems exclusive to the Al Ghul family -- and there's of course that pride in their abilities. They have similar speech patterns -- although Danny's more relaxed due to Sam and Tucker's influence. And they both share an intense care for animals and the environment that's also pretty standard for the Al Ghul family.

Overall though he's just... rather quiet. Snarky and witty, but quiet. Unsure and seemingly analyzing them, trying to figure them out. He's quietest around Bruce -- not because he's afraid of him or anything, but he's overwhelmed by him. He's wanted to meet Bruce since he was a child, and now he is and he doesn't know what to do. It's a strange feeling to have.

You can find him sitting in the same room Bruce is in and find him just, watching him. Watching him from various, obscure places. He seems content to just exist in his presence, and confused when Bruce speaks to him -- like he's not totally comprehended the fact that he's actually there in front of him.

Damian and Danny have perhaps the most awkward interactions with each other out of everyone -- they have old issues they need to sort out like Danny purposely distancing himself from Damian, and intentionally orchestrating their past interactions to result in Damian hating him, and Damian needs to figure out who his brother really is beyond what he led Damian into thinking.

There's a lot of one-sided yelling matches where Damian airs out his grievances at Danny, and Danny sits there silently and lets him. Danny apologizes to him for treating him so coldly in the past, that if there's anything he could go back and redo, it would be that. That he doesn't expect forgiveness from Damian, but he wants him to know Danyal's sincerity. He tells him that if he wanted, Danny could return to Amity Park and he won't bother Damian or his family again. Al Ghuls don't cry, but i think Danyal does when he apologizes to Damian.

#danny fenton is not the ghost king #dpxdc #danyal al ghul au #danyal al ghul #things in threes #things in threes au #dpxdc crossover #starry asks #danny eventually bonds with the rest of the family he just needs time to warm up to them

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f4nd0m-fun · 2 years ago

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@sonicman613 @thatonegaybitch68 @hallowsden

This one is more a character thing and who I've figured out have wings.

Also, more focused on DC here, so they'll have little blurbs, but DP is just a blob of info.

Bruce Wayne was a distant descendent of Jonathan Nightingale, many greats-grandson of his only daughter.

Mrs. Nightingale fled Salem, heading north to the Gotham Settlement. Her husband was to be taken to the pyre, with no knowledge of his future child, but she knew there was no way to save him. She didn't know about the curse he had placed on the Nightingale bloodline to torment his brother, only knowing of the experiments his father had done to reawaken the long dormant bloodline.

Elizabeth was born normal enough, and the feathers never truly became wings, but they were a blight upon her back that many refused to touch. Eventually, though, she managed to marry, and her last name changed to Wayne.

Because of the nature of the curse and magic lineages often being stronger than genetic ones (depending on how the magic is curated for the lines), those Bruce Wayne takes in as his children find themselves with wings of their own, fledglings with one kind that mature into another as they grow up.

-----

The Drake's name came from their duck wings, something Janet did not like, but she'd married in for another reason. Besides, Jack seemed to be happy to let her handle Timothy most days after he was born, it was just a matter of making him agree with her.

"Remember, Timothy, keep your wings close to you, you don't want to cause problems, right?"

Sometimes, Tim could still hear his mother reprimanding him. Like that time he tried to fly.

"Timothy, no! Get back here!" She looked at the guests, and apologized to them.

After that night, he hadn't tried to fly again. Sure, short glides were used while he was following the Beasts around. But he never flew.

And when he joined the Beasts? He slowly lost even his ability to glide, wings burning away as flame robin feathers, the same kind Jason had had, slowly replaced his own, replacement holding yet another meaning once Jason returned.

Eventually, he got better, he grew new wings, the tattered ones burning into a deep crimson of a cardinal. He found out who he was, and learned to fly.

-----

Dent also has wings, but, sheet his accident, one was left scarred and burnt. Eventually, he gets a prosthetic, but he doesn't wear it when he's not flying because it's uncomfortable to wear.

People have made jokes about Harvey and Bruce being angels, Wayne with his flecked snowy owl wings, and Dent with his pure white egret feathers. While Bruce helps from above, with his charities and search for the future, Harvey strikes from below, using the law to the best of his ability, finding every loophole he can to help the victims.

But then he was burned, and the angel fell from grace. Half his body scared, wings blackened like a raven, charred like hell descended, warping the great one's mind.

-----

Jonathan Crane came from a family with literal crane wings, but the Nightingale Fenton lineage won out. Eventually, though, his wings take the form they were supposed to, better matching his lanky frame.

The experiments and abuse he faced at his father's hands left his wings battered and torn, the black sheen far from the white of the adult in front of him. Certainly, his father's wings were tipped with black, but it was nowhere near the depth of darkness that Jonathan had. Jon, though, was glad his parents had separated. His father taking him, leaving his brother safe with their mother.

As he aged in this abusive environment, an old friend of his past self began to show, taking interest in Jonathan, until he was broken enough to call on it, though it wasn't the creature's fault, the supposed father was more demon than the beast at this point, and the entity was glad to take the fledgling out of there, all but old enough to handle himself in several matters anyway.

-----

Jim Gordon has hummingbird wings. They're part of a family curse, if you want to see it that way, only passed down to the males of the family. Barbera doesn't have them, and isn't sure how dominant they are in regards to passing them down.

••••••••••

The Fenton family, aside from Madeline, have wings. However, Jazz's were acquired though the magic of the lineage and not the blood, as she's actually Harley Quinn's daughter, given to an old school friend (Madeline) to be away from the Joker.

Danny Fenton lost his wings when he gained his scars, but, like any powerful ghost, will grow into them. The most notable ghosts with wings, however, are the ancients.

Dorathea and Aragon both have leathery wings. These are tied to their amulets though and not their natural ghost power.

Sam's parents have wings. No one can figure out why she doesn't though.

Tucker somehow built a jetpack.

Ghost Writer has wings and uses his feathers as quills instead of using a typewriter. He also collects other ghost's feathers, with permission, to turn them into quills as well. These ones are in a collection though and not to be used.

Wes has wings as well, from his dad's side, though his father refused to stay in Gotham with her (Ives' sister), and took the boys with him.

••••••••••

At the moment, this is everyone.

#winged uncle scarecrow au #winged uncle jonathan au #uncle scarecrow wings au #uncle scarecrow au

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veronica-17-hood · 2 years ago

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another letter request <333

- we have baby (pre death lol) jay 🤭

-it’s a different format, small story telling before..

enjoy darlings <33

Alfred stood in the rain outside the townhouse. The rain bouncing from the nylon umbrella down to the pavement, pooling around his shoes now.

He welcome the aroma of the wet concrete and the saturation of his lower pants legs. It felt fitting to be left alone in the cold, staring at the door with rusty hinges and chipped pant. It seemed fitting to be unsure of what to do.

He had been stood outside your house for almost thirty minutes. Staring, contemplating knocking, then staring again.

But in all realty, he just couldn’t stop himself from crying.

Jason had died last night.

And here his Alfie was, delivering a love letter that his grandson had written no less than 24 hours ago, to his best friend in the world, unsure of how to deliver the news.

Was he to start with the letter than bombard you with the news of his death or vice versa. Both seemed cruel.

Alfred had been there when he picked out the necklace. It was almost a year ago now. God was his boy so excited, pooling the money from his allowance to dump on the counter for the clerk.

He hadn’t told you he was robin yet, but he knew he was going to. He knew you were his one soulmate, he told Alfred that after the first time you came over to study. And than again after he invited you to the gala. And again each day after school or when getting stitched after patrol.

So how was he to do this?

Well his thoughts cut off as the door swung open to reveal your rose painted cheeks and chipped tooth smile.

You almost crashed into the butler as you swung to face him, door slamming your behind as you halted. You must have been on your way out, rushing due to the rain.

“Oh Alfred!” You exclaimed, rushing under his umbrella to give him a hug. Oh how naive, how happy you are today, how dare he ruin you. “Aren’t you freezing?”

He almost burst into tears in your arms. You wore a sweater of Jay’s, his school one must have gotten it from his last night before he went home to leave with Bruce.

He could smell the cologne on it, and the way your arms encircled his torso with a small squeeze was enough to bring some sense of comfort.

But it didn’t stop him from imaging Jay hugging him instead of you.

“No, much to warm.” He answered politely as you backed away just far enough to still be covered by the nylon above him. “It’s quite humid out.”

Your smile faltered by his tear stained cheeks and inability to keep eye contact you, though you choose to pretend. “It’s Gotham, just polluted.”

Silence fell over you, eyes bouncing around. Heat escaped from the cracked door behind you and the brisk waves of drops covered the sides of your body with each blow.

Alfred swore years had past as you stared at him, and it was then he couldn’t give you any news.

You knew.

Your smile fell and shoulders slumped, hands retreating into his grandsons sweater that Alfred has every intention on having you keep. You knew and Alfred didn’t have to say the words aloud for that to be confirmed for him.

A single tear fell from your eye the longer the two of your sat in silence. Then one followed from his own.

With a shaky hand he extended the still crispy envelope to your person, as your own shaky hand reached for it.

Tucking it safely against your chest he forced a small smile. “The doors of Wayne Manor are forever open to you.”

He took one step back, just enough to motion you back under the covering of your front door. His smile faded as he watched your slowly retreat into yourself and him do the same.

Your eyes trained down on the floor as he spun on his heel back to the limo awaiting him. Your hand already feeling the letter, unsure if it was a letter from Jay or one from the family.

“Alfred.”

He stopped in his tracks, turning halfway around to see the tears begin to stream.

“Yes Ev?”

“I love him.”

It was small and voice was hardly there but it made Alfred smile, as he knew the letter may allow some comfort, something.

“Oh darling, he loved you too.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ev.

I’m sure you felt the weight of the envelope confused, I mean granted I’m pretty confusing. It’s just my life is such a rollercoaster all the time, with B and both of our needs to find comfort in one another and with all the travel that I do with him. I feel like i’m constantly getting thrown around, unsure of what’s going to happen next.

But the one thing that is always there, my constant is you.

I know we always stress the fact that we are just friends to Alfie, but i can’t keep lying anymore. I just can’t sweetheart.

I wanted so badly to do this in person, to look into those big doe eyes and smile with my crooked teeth as I told you how I really felt. But I had to go today off to some place with B, but not with Bruce if you ya know what I mean.

So I wrote this.

Not too sure why I left it with Alfred, or that I’m going to anyway. Just seemed easier than trying to find a place on your window ledge.

I love you.

Like a lot. Always have and probably always will. You just are so perfect, in every way of the word. your smart and caring and just have so much love for everyone, even my dickhead of a brother sometimes.

You are there every night on patrol when it’s slow and B let’s me wander off. You are there to help me walk down the halls in school when my ankle is a little too sore.

You.

You are there at all times without fail.

Because without a doubt, you are all that I dream about.

You consume every piece of me, from the moment you stared my black eye a little too long on the first day of school.

And since then you, you are always there, every minute of every hour, in my thoughts, my dreams, my long nights and my short ones.

And i hope you know i’m always going to be here for you too.

For every moment that you are of mine, I will be for you.

Always.

So back to why the envelope must feel heavy, i was walking around the streets the other night, the one with your favorite antique shop and i found it.

(you can turn the envelope over now)

It’s simple, the way you like it. A flimsy gold chain with a strong gold plated robin at the end.

Because i’ll always be around, at all times.

If this mission goes my way i’ll be back to you with someone to meet, someone special and who needs all of your love, the love i know you store up in that perfect heart of yours.

Alfie should be by in the morin to drop this off. I cant wait to see you in person, maybe even give ya a big ol’ kiss just for you my darling.

I hope you love the necklace darlin, just like how much i love you.

always yours,

jason.

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faintblueivy · 4 years ago

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So Imagine...

A world where Bruce Wayne died as a child in that alley that day, Martha and Thomas Wayne grieve as normal parents. They DO NOT BECOME BATMAN AND JOKER.

Nothing ever remains the same after losing their little boy. So, Thomas buries himself in his work and Martha drowns herself in depression and pain. They do therapy and it works a little and life becomes bearable but...not happy.

One day, Alfred badgers the couple to go out and relax a little and buys them tickets for a circus - Haly’s circus. Everything was going nice and dandy and Martha was in awe of this little acrobat as much as the rest of the crowd when suddenly the rope snaps and the boy’s parents fall to their deaths - right in front of him and the gathering. Thomas is quick to jump in to see if he could help them in any way but Martha can see it in his eyes that they are as dead as they can be.

They return to home with heavy hearts and Martha can’t get the image of the little boy out of her head. His skin was a light shade of bronze but his dark hair and bright cerulean blue eyes reminded her so much of Bruce that her heart wouldn’t rest. So a few days later she uses her connections to know if the child is safe and well cared for, when to her immense horror, she is replied that he was shipped to Gotham Juvie due to the lack of foster homes. She is enraged.

She calls Thomas and Alfred and lets them know about the little acrobat’s situation and declares that she was going to adopt him. They hesitate a little but she is not to be deterred as she goes ahead and brings the little boy home.

Richard John Grayson - Wayne. Or Dick, as he likes to call himself.

He is adamant that he wants no parents and Martha is fine because not only that she is old enough to be not his mother but also because no child can ever be her Bruce.

“You can just call me Grandma then.” She tells him.

His eyes are wide but he nods and then smiles and Martha, in a long while, has never felt this happy.

Her new Grandson, despite losing his parents, is a ray of sunshine with unlimited supply of energy and the cold and empty manor is warm and happy again.

Dick is a little charmer and even after Thomas and Alfred’s initial reluctance, they immediately fall in love with the boy and one day, when Martha comes down to the morning breakfast, she hears a happy, deep rumble - one she has not heard in many years. Thomas is laughing.

There on the dining table, seated beside Dick, was Thomas laughing. Her eyes water at the scene and Alfred, who is standing beside her offers her a handkerchief. None of them mention how his own eyes are wet too.

...

Dick is sixteen, a brilliant boy in academics as much as they disinterest him but an invincible athlete. Martha has been told time and time again that her grandson is undoubtedly a international level gymnast. But he is a teenager.

And teenagers steal their grandparent’s ‘coolest’ car and rush off into the night. But they don’t come back with a little battered and bruised, homeless kid tucked under their arm.

“He had jacked three tires off your car. When I confronted him, he tried to hit me with a tire iron.” He says, amused, as Thomas tries to convince the child to show him his injuries.

“I didn’t do nothin’! He’s a fuckin’ big boob liar!” They boy screams, his blue green eyes glaring daggers at Dick.

“Language.” Both her and Alfred warn simultaneously.

After hours of struggle, interrogation and fuck you’s, Martha learns that the child’s name is Jason. He is twelve. Mother died form drug overdosing and Dad is a petty henchman of some crime lord. He ran away from multiple foster homes because they are so abusive that the child feels safer on streets.

Martha goes on a rampage over Gotham’s foster care after that. She did not donate millions of dollars annually for children to feel safer on streets. After of lot of talks and reassurances and promises, Martha acquires her second grandchild.

Jason Peter Todd - Wayne.

Jason is tiny. Malnourished like Leslie said. But he is sharp, observant and hungry for knowledge. Martha and Alfred joke that Jason is Thomas' soul child. Where Dick had loved activity and movement, Jason liked quiet and stability - Martha thinks that running and fighting for survival on streets every single day does that you. So evenings often found her and Dick in the garden but Thomas and Jason in the library pouring over as many books as they can.

And to nobody's surprise, despite their rocky start, the boys become inseparable. They are outwardly different, with clashing interests and behaviors but Martha can see that they both carry the same cores of light.

When the morning of Dick’s Parent’s death anniversary comes around, both her and Thomas find Jason on Dick’s bed, arms curled protectively around his big brother. For the first time in so many years, Dick wakes up to warmth surrounding him, not nightmares.

...

Both her grandsons attend Gotham Academy so when she receives a phone call from the Principal, she is half surprised and half not. When she enters the Principal’s office, both her boys are standing on one side, Jason with his head hung in shame and Dick glaring daggers at the other side. The boy who seems to be injured is being coddled by his mother who is shooting nasty glares at her grandchildren periodically.

Then she notices another small boy standing beside her boys, trying to melt into the wall.

Tim Drake. The only son of Jack and Janet Drake of Drake Industries.

She arches a questioning eyebrow at Dick who shakes his head and then she turns to the Principal.

“What happened here?”

“Glad to see you’re here Mrs. Wayne.” The Principal says, pushing his glasses up his nose, “I regret to inform you that your ward Jason Peter Todd attacked this young man here.” He gestures to the other boy.

“Madam, Gotham Academy is a prestigious school and we do not encourage physical violence here. Yes, it might have been acceptable from where he came from but it won’t be, here. I hope you give us the right to punish Mr. Todd here appropriately.”

Martha inwardly bristles at the jab at her grandson and says crisply, “Mr. Wayne.”

“What?”

“He’s not just Todd. He is a Wayne. Please remember that.”

“Principal Sir.” Dick cuts in and Martha is confused because as hyperactive as Dick is, he is a mannerly child and knows better than to cut in a conversation like this but what draws her attention is the chilling tone which Dick almost never uses. Dick continues, “Why don’t you tell our grandmother more of your regrets? Or the prestigious Gotham Academy believes that bullying is acceptable.”

Martha has been told what she needs to know.

“Jason?” she calls out to her youngest grandson softly, “What happened?”

Jason is quiet when suddenly Tim Drake moves forward. She can see he is scared the way his hands shake but determination shines in his blue eyes. She likes him.

“I want to say something.”

He narrates the tale of how he was being bullied and how the boy on the other side with his mother threw his science project model away and broke it and physically tried to attack him when Jason stepped in to save him. Martha felt nothing but pride at Jason’s righteous indignation.

Tim also explained that Jason exercised immense control even after these bullies called him ‘street rat’, but the verbal spar intensified after Dick was insulted for his Romani heritage, but it came to fist fight after Thomas and Martha were insulted, and Bruce’s death was made fun of.

Her gaze snaps to the other three occupants of the room and they are all in various shades of pale. Apparently, the Principal had not done his homework.

“Principal” She says icily, “Yes, I give you the authority to punish Jason appropriately but only when this young man here”, she gestures to the boy who was now cowering behind his mother, “Is dealt with in the same way.”

After threatening the Principal in soft words but harsh tone about not tolerating to having her grandsons bullied the next time, she grabs Jason’s hand to drag him away from these people who don’t deserve his company, when her eyes fall on the little trembling Tim.

She offers him her hand.

He stares at it, shocked but after an encouraging smile from Dick and a small shove from Jason, he takes it shyly.

And since that day, Tim becomes a member of Martha’s family. The boys stay together so much that even Thomas forgets that Tim is not theirs.

Tim’s upbringing sends Martha’s grandmother instincts on a haywire and she resents the Drakes for their criminal neglect towards Tim.

It is rewarding that Tim flourishes in their attention.

She learns that his hobby is Photography and he is excellent at it. And he is a genius when it comes to science, computers and gadgets. He likes crime thrillers movies and books and often picks them apart with his scarily good knowledge about forensics that leave the rest of the family in awe and slightly disturbed.

The dam breaks when one day Jason and Dick return back from school telling her that Tim was absent today and they are worried about him. When they later sneak into the Drake mansion in the evening, Thomas receives a frantic call from their oldest grandchild that Tim was burning with fever. Because Thomas is a doctor, they save Tim before anything serious happens.

This time, it is Thomas who sues the Drakes for Tim’s custody after him and Jason had, had enough of ‘Timbo’s shitty parents’.

“Timothy?” Martha brushes his sweat soaked forehead gently. “Would you like to be a member of our family legally?"

Tim is hesitant about this but he admits that he likes Wayne manor much better than he ever liked Drake mansion. He confesses that he loves Jason and Dick as brothers and sees Martha, Thomas and Alfred as his grandparents as well.

The long custody battle ends with both Jack and Janet Drake dying at the hands of two different tragedies, leaving Tim an orphan, but also with a loving family consisting of three grandparents and two brothers by his side.

Timothy Jackson Drake - Wayne is adopted into the Wayne family as her and Thomas’ third grandson.

...

A year after they adopt Tim, Thomas comes home with a small girl on his side. She is clearly an east Asian in heritage with dark hair and dark eyes and is speech deprived. Thomas is clearly distressed after Cassandra - her name is Cassandra - is safely secured in warm bed in a nice room across Jason’s. He calls her, the three boys and Alfred to his study to explain about the small girl.

He talks about how Gordon brought the girl to him and after hours of wordless, signed and clumsily sketched on paper conversations with the little girl they were able to determine that Cassandra was hiding from her father who was an assassin and wanted to drag the little girl down the same path before she ran away. The more he talks about the damage and abuse the girl had experienced at the hands on her own father, the more furious Martha becomes. When Thomas’ explanations ends, Jason slams a punch into the wall making a dent but no one has the heart to reprimand him for that.

The following morning, Martha can see that her three boys have unanimously decided that they are adopting Cassandra as their sister. She is treated like a Princess, and given the nick name ‘Cass’.

Slowly but surely, Cass learns what it means to love through Dick’s bright kindness, Jason’s quiet protection and Tim’s infinite patience. After her father is finally apprehended, the family celebrates.

Cassandra Wayne, soon after, becomes the beloved Wayne Princess of Gotham.

Martha and Thomas often accompany their only granddaughter to her speech therapy lessons, so after six months of her adoption, at dinner, she places a kiss on everyone’s forehead - her three brothers and three grandparents, stands at the head of the table and croaks out, slowly, “Thank...thank you.” All of them stare at her flabbergasted, but it appears that she was planning to shock them even more.

“You...Love. Love you...”

The silence that follows her broken but sure words is deafening. Surprisingly it is Tim who breaks it as he scrambles out of his chair and launches himself at Cass, wrapping his arms around her and both Jason and Dick follow him, grabbing both their youngest siblings fiercely.

A quiet sob breaks her out of the trance and she smiles when she watches Thomas furiously wiping his tears from the sleeve of his shirt. The last time he had cried was at Bruce’s funeral. And Martha is infinitely grateful that this time these are happy tears.

...

Sometimes Martha wonders what would have happened if Bruce had lived. If these children are her grandchildren then does that mean they are Bruce’s kids? Had Bruce lived, would he have accepted these gaggle of kids that her and Thomas have collected over the years as his own? Would he have kids of his own?

Her questions are answered when one day she hears a slight commotion in the entrance is surprised to see a young woman with a sword threatening Alfred.

“I want to meet the Master of this house. Let them know immediately.” She demands in an authoritative but silky voice, and Martha suddenly sees the Toddler clutched in her arm.

“What is it?” Martha speaks as soon as she can when the woman notices her. She looks surprised for a second but immediately schools her features as the baby fusses.

“You’re alive.” She whispers and before any of them could make an indignant comment about her wordings, she says, “It appears that I might have traveled in to the wrong universe.”

Now that is interesting. Martha lives in a world where they are protected by aliens...so, it is certainly worth hearing for.

Martha offers the young lady an invitation for tea which she accepts. She notices how the woman carries herself with lethal grace and dignity as if she was a Princess but much more. As they sit and Alfred leaves to bring the promised team Martha notices how the woman’s eyes sweep over the place.

“How may I help you?”

Her voice attracts the attention of the toddler and this time, he is not clutched tightly enough to his mother’s chest to turn his small head and look at her. Martha gasps. Because the child looks too much like Toddler Bruce. But instead of the blue eyes like her son, this child has glowing green ones, like his mother. But still, the resemblance is uncanny.

“Yes, he is your son’s.” The woman answers the unasked question.

She is explained the existence of Multiverse, and it’s workings and how Bruce survived instead of them in that world, met Talia (the woman’s name is Talia Al Ghul) and had a child but had to leave. Talia mentions the reason she came here was because her son’s life was in danger and Talia’s father wanted to raise her son as an assassin Prince and a tool for him to use. Talia’s solution to protect her son was for her to give her son to the Bruce of this world to raise, since the Bruce of that world had gone missing.

“I can raise him.” Martha suddenly declares and the woman looks at him shocked. “I will not raise him into a life of violence but I can certainly protect him and give him a happy civilian life.”

Talia looks unsure, hesitant, but says, “I...have been a warrior since the day I can remember. Never once have I ever thought of my son not being a warrior. He was...born to be one.”

Martha smiles. “He doesn’t have to be one. Yes, his life will be infinitely different than the one you imagined but...he will be well loved and protected. I can assure you of that.”

“Damian.” Talia whispers as he deposits the baby in her arms after a lot of consideration. “His name is Damian.”

She looks at her son tenderly one last time and places a kiss on his forehead and Martha’s heart breaks a little for the young mother.

“Will you return back for him?” Martha asks as she follows the Talia to the door.

“No.” Talia whispers, her voice strained. “I will not. Any action taken by me is monitored by my father closely. If I return back, then he might know that I have left Damian here and I cannot let that happen. He is yours, forever.”

Martha gives her a sad smile. “You’re a brave and good mother Talia. Thank you for doing what is best for your son.”

She nods, not turning to look at Damian one last time as she leaves the manor grounds, never to return.

Martha looks at the baby secure in her arms and her lips quirk up into a grin at the sight of two curious green eyes watching her with interest.

“Welcome to the family, little Damian.”

When she introduces the new addition to the family, Thomas is dumbfounded. Dick is ecstatic at the prospect of having a new baby brother, Jason is secretly pleased, Cass is happiest and Tim looks unsure.

That’s how Damian Wayne - Al Ghul joins the family.

Damian fits in their home spectacularly. After few days of hesitation, like he had with Dick, Thomas takes to Damian quickly. He has an epic competition going on with their eldest grandson to become the baby’s favorite. Damian refuses to sleep without Thomas but his tantrums are only controlled and won over by Dick. Damian loves Jason manhandling him and giggles happily when the older boy throws him in the air or swings him around. Damian loves Cassandra because she knows what he wants before any of them do. And Cass loves to carry her little brother around to watch birds and animals in the manor grounds.

The only person Damian seems to not get along with is Tim and the older boy seems not be fond of him either. Because Damian wants everything Tim does and the older brother has to compromise for Damian every time. But Martha has to bite laughs a lot now a days because almost everytime Damian falls asleep, it is with Tim in vicinity. And she has caught the older boy tenderly covering Damian in his favorite blanket more often than not. Martha thinks that this is kind of cute but keeps her opinion to herself.

Her little grandson is quite protective of his siblings though. Anytime someone upsets any of his siblings, they are threatened with scowls, growls and even bites and stabbings in extreme cases.

Like last time when Mrs. Park made fun of Cassandra’s speech impairment, Damian almost bit her finger off. Damian hates one of Dick’s racist colleague (they all do) so much that anytime the man enters his field of vision, the first thing Damian gets his hand on is thrown at the guy’s head. With deadly precision. And last time when Mr. Link had called Jason ‘street rat’ for personally volunteering charity work for poor and homeless, Damian had smeared his juice and drool covered hands on the Man’s thousand dollars suit. And when one time, a reporter had infiltrated a Gala and chased Tim around to ask uncomfortable questions about his parent’s death and the Wayne’s involvement in it, Damian, noticing Tim’s distress had stabbed the reporter with a fork with no hesitation.

Martha is still not sure if she should encourage or reprimand Damian for that.

...

As she sits on the head of the table with Thomas on her side and Alfred on the other end, she wonders how miraculous it is for her to have all these children in her life.

Dick is engaged in an animated conversation with Stephanie who was introduced to the family as Tim’s girlfriend. Barbara, the daughter of James Gordon and Dick’s girlfirend/or not was helping Cass pile up food on her plate. Damian and Tim were bickering over something as usual but Jason trying to hide his snickers in guise of drinking water which made Martha sure that the something was Jason’s doing.

These people were her family. The ones she had gained after losing Bruce. She wonders, if there was a universe where Bruce got to meet her grandchildren.

Would he accept them? As family?

Would he love them? As family?

She brightly smiles when the multiple sets of eyes turn to her waiting for her to blow the candle.

“Happy Birthday Martha.”

Thomas says warmly, his voice thick with emotion and she meets his gaze and sees the love, affection and thankfulness in his eyes for this family that they had created after their earth shattering loss. She knows what she wants as she blows the candle on the cake flickering in front of her.

I wish for us to be family in every universe.

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thealtoduck · 4 years ago

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Being The Huntress son and dating Jason Todd...

When you were born it became Helena’s one goal in life to keep you safe and happy.

She takes the safe part really seriously because of her past.

Growing up she taught you many life skills like cooking, Italian and self-defence.

Whenever your mom needed a babysitter she just dropped you off at Dinah Lance’s a.k.a Black Canary’s apartment.

And sometimes without telling her, She could be in the middle of a romantic dinner with Oliver Queen and the Huntress would be knocking on the window carrying a baby.

She didn’t mind though mostly because you were so adorable and called her Auntie Dinah.

When you reached your teenage years you started to worry about your mom fighting crime by herself.

You told her you wanted to join her and be her sidekick. She would have declined but she realised that you would fight crime even if she said no.

So she got you a crossbow and a suit and the two of you became a crimefighting duo.

It was around this time that you met Jason, at this time he was still Robin.

The two of you would playfully flirt with eachother as you fought off criminals.

One time it was only you and Jason patrolling, the two of you worked like a well oiled machine while taking down the bad guys.

The night ended with the two of you sitting on a rooftop looking out over Gotham and sharing your first kiss.

He took of his mask and introduced himself as Jason Todd, you did the same and introduced yourself as Y/N Bertinelli.

When you got home you were looking forward to the next time you would meet him, little did you know you wouldn’t see him for a long time...

A few weeks later you noticed that Batman had stopped bringing him along. So you asked him about it...

He told you about the Joker and the warehouse. He wasn’t expecting you to burst into tears though.

Now you were pissed, the Joker had taken away your first love and as every grandson of a mob boss knows blood cries for blood.

One night you were out patrolling by yourself and you came across the joker.

You attacked him but it seems like Batman had also found joker and he stopped you from killing him.

But nothing was gonna stop you from revenge so you attacked Batman and of course you lost.

You didn’t get in trouble for attacking him. Bruce understood exactly what you were going through, so he just took you home to your mom.

In time you were able to move on buuuut...

Then he came back but more violent and he was using guns.

Bruce used you to try to get Jason back on his side.

Eventually Bruce and you got through to Jason and he came back.

Jason then asked you to be his boyfriend which you gladly accepted.

You two eventually moved in together in to a small apartment.

Your mom being the protective mother she was had mixed feelings about Jason at first but grew to love him.

Bruce thinks your great for Jason since your presence seems to keep him calm.

Dick and Tim loves you and wants you and Jason to get married.

Damian has a crush on you and is jealous of Jason. Which is another reason to why they don’t get along.

Alfred and you became BFFs that share food recipes.

#jason todd x male reader #red hood x male reader #X male reader #dc comics x male reader #dc x male reader #jason todd #red hood #batfam x male reader #X male reader fluff

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wife-of-magic-monkeys · 3 years ago

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Gotham's Lost light of the night

@legenderylearner18 here is part one of chapter two I hope you like it

Chapter two part 1 the reunion of the bat and her clan.

Dracula the second pov

It been year's and my granddaughter is a cold killer then her soft side when she was human.

She has killed everything in her path I am proud of her. And for the frist time I be showing her my true from and let her live because it Time for her to trun.

(y/n) pov

Grand Father has wanted to show me something before I get trun to my true form.

When I walk in I am scard nothing has sacrd me this much before.

D2 : my child don't be aferd you will live.

Look at me and come to my arms it time for you to be trun into your true From. And then train for your long mission.

Dl this will hurt but I will be holding you do not fret your granddad has you

The pain it hurts it hurts so much my body it on fire every thing feels like it being teared off. And then being put on new parts

I don't know what happened but I must have past out but I do know is I feel reborn.

10 years have passed and they reader is on a boat in her coffen.

Her garndfather words in her head

Dl : your next mission is to hunt down and kill Batman and his son's and do not heed the lies the will tell you. They killed your mother and it time to show them they mess with the worng vampires. And do not fall me you will be the future head of the rulers of the moon~ and for your birthday here a sword and cake and gun's happy 15 Brithday my granddaughter.

For my mother I will not fall you or you grandfather. I will make you both proud.

Meanwhile at gotham City

Tbc

Dundun daaaaa Clif hanger

Info on the reader grandfather

He is the greatest great grandson of Dracula and the frist one to be named after him and he rlues the night and loved his daughter. But lost her to the Batman. And he is the Last oldest Prue blood vampire.

But here the question did the batfamly kill the mother or did something else happen who knows you just have to wait and find out.

#yandere platonic batfamily x reader #yandere x reader

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mxtantrights · 3 years ago

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past lives | 10

a/n: final part!! AHHHHHHH stay tuned for the epilogue!!! And thank you guys so much for coming on this journey with me. I really appreciate it and YOU! <3

You awoke to the smell of cement and dry wall. It smelled so bad you could feel it in your throat. Your eyes cleared up to the spectacle in front of you. It was Ra's and Nyssa with their arms crossed.

“Is this some sick parent teacher conference?” you joked.

“No games. You failed to deliver the package.” he said.

“You mean your grandson? The one who left of his own volition?”

“Nonsense he is the heir to everything I have. He can’t leave.”

You looked over more to your former friend, “Nice to see you too Nyssa.”

“Why didn’t you stick to the plan?” she asked.

You look at Ra’s and he’s already staring you down. You don’t think he’s told her. It would have been best not to. Withholding information is his favorite skill anyways.

You’re about to say something when Ra’s comes over and backhands you. It makes you curl in the chair they’ve put you in. You weren’t surprised, that didn’t make it any less worse however.

He really doesn’t want her to know.

“All you had to do was seek him out. You couldn’t even do it.”

His smack- you hate to say it- brought up a thought to the front of your mind.

“When did you know about my father?” you asked.

It’s in words that Nyssa isn’t able to pick up on. You know. He knows. It’s clear he doesn’t want her to know. Another hint at telling her might earn you worse than a slap.

“After you came out of the pit. I looked into your identity some more and did some research.” he said.

“Tell me,” you move your arms bound to the back of the chair, “Did you spawn Damian afterwards because of me?”

“No, you’re not the reason. I had already been watching him for some time. You were just a happy coincidence.” he answered.

Ra's folds his hands behind his back and moves around Nyssa, and then around you. In a circle. The predator and the prey. What was Nyssa this time around?

“You never reached out.” you said directly to her.

“You left.” she shot back.

“He wanted me gone.” you nodded to her father.

“It was a test you imbecile!” she shouted.

It made you flinch. You realized that maybe Nyssa wasn’t going to let bygones be bygones. And from her stand point she didn’t have to. You hurt her.

Ra’s circles around you once more. His eyes never left Nyssa though. It gave you a sickening feeling. How everyone was his pawns. Specifically Talia and Nyssa. The women in that family needed serious counseling after being brought up by a man like that.

“If it was a test then why did he let me live? The moment I stepped out the door I should have been dead!” you shouted back.

She stayed silent. So you continued.

“He’s lying to you Nyssa.” you said.

“She’s right I lied to you. It wasn’t part of some test.”

Nyssa turned to her father in shock. You were sat wondering why he would give himself up so easily. What did he have to play here?

Whatever it was could wait. He was far enough now to not strike you again. You needed to let her know.

“He wanted me as a back up for Damian. My half-brother.” you said.

Nyssa turned back to you and when she did Ra's smacked her too. You winced for her, his hand print would probably be on your face in a few minutes. Just like old times.

He turned to you.

“You ruined my plan to bring my grandson back. Now he knows I’m here.” he said.

“He ran away for good reason. I’m glad he did. I would've never handed him over to you anyways.” you spoke.

“You didn’t have to hand him to me, you were just going to serve him to me on a platter.”

“No. Because I know you were tracking me through my phone, both of them. You think I didn’t notice how heavy that flash drive is? I know a cloning device when I hold one. And the burner phone? That was cheap work.”

He began to laugh. It made you sit further back in your seat. Him laughing was never a good sign. And it never sounded right. All those years in the pit must’ve done something to his laugh, along with the rest of his mind.

Ra's al Ghul came face to face with you. He wasn’t a pleasant man to look at. His breath even more telling on how close to death he is. But you looked him in the eye anyways.

“And that’s why you’re here. The bargaining chip. He’ll come for you, because just as you care for him he cares for you.”

He lets up and in the background you saw Nyssa shift her arm really quickly. You don’t know what it was for.

The family had gotten a hit on your location. It had been four hours since you were taken. Everyone decided to suit up and hit the streets for the first two hours. Redhood and Red Robin took downtown, Nightwing enlisted the help of GCPD to search Midtown and Batman and Robin took Uptown. With the league they couldn’t be too careful.

In the middle of searching is when they got a comms message from Alfred. Your phone had pinged off a tower in Crime Alley. As Bruce and Damian were closest they began to head over to that neighborhood. The rest of the boys and some footmen from the GCPD were on their way over.

Batman and Robin got there and Alfred was able to narrow down the closest tower that your phone pinged off of.

In the bat mobile Damian remained quiet. He had kept mum about the real reason you were there with him when Gotham Academy had caught on fire. Bruce could tell it was something he wanted to speak about alone.

“So what's the real reason?”

Damian let out a sigh, “This isn’t our first meeting. We’ve had a relationship since I was born. Back on the island.”

“With the league?”

“Yes. It was sad when we could no longer see each other, grandfather had offered an out. I never thought we would see each other again.”

Bruce stayed quiet for a moment. All that could be heard was the engine of the batmobile.

“Did you know you were related?”

“I found that out the same day as Gotham Academy. We had a conversation later that night.”

“You snuck out?”

“I had to father. It was for good reason. We were able to put the pieces together. I said I would handle grandfather.”

“Damian.”

“This has gone on for too long. It’s my fault. If something happens-”

“We’ll make it.”

Then he steps more on the gas.

Your head lulled forward after the sixth blow he dealt you. It wasn’t like you earned it. He wanted to prove a point to Nyssa. That you were expendable to him. That in the grand scheme of things you didn’t matter.

“All that training, wasted! You can’t even get out of the restraints.”

You swallowed the blood that was in your mouth, “What makes you think he’ll come for me?”

“We’re going to send a public ransom across all of Gotham. I figure a hundred thousand as the bounty will circulate enough to get to him. And then he’ll come and find you.”

“He’s just a child.”

“No he’s more than a child. He’s my grandson, the son of Bruce Wayne and Talia al Ghul.”

“And what does she think about all this?”

“Enough!” he shouted.

You were punched again.

“I’ll get someone to send the ransom around.” Nyssa’s voice said.

You lifted your head up to look at her but her back was already turned to you. This however did earn you another punch, to the gut this time, by Ra’s. You let out a disgusting sound at the impact.

“Instead of a coincidence you’ve become an inconvenience. This time I won’t put you in the pit.”

“Why would you ever put me in there in the first place, huh? I was a no one! You didn’t know me or my mother. You just snatched my body and made me one of your foot soldiers.” you screamed through the incoming headache.

He did that mechanical laugh again and you wanted to spit at him. You never thought he was a good man. All the things he did. The things he told you to do. You can’t absolve all of the blame but he was an undeniable reason why you did those things.

Drop offs turned into stake outs. Stake outs into undercover. Undercover into sedation. With him the lines were blurred, because there was supposed to be nothing you wouldn’t do for him. But you chose Damian. Or, you chose Damian’s new life over his old one. And he didn't like that one bit.

The door bused open and in came Batman. You didn't think you'd live to see him up close. It’s true that while in Gotham you would probably see him once or twice. But this?

You watched as Ra's attacked him on sight. It was like the two were in sync. Batman hit, Ra’s dodged. A kick here, a swerve there. They seemed to be equals. You know you could never pull that off. Ra’s would have you flat out in under a minute.

When Batman should have swerved he didn’t. And Ra’s got the best of him with a punch. This gave way to a kick to the side and a head pull into the ground. You struggled to get out of your restraints. It wasn’t looking good for either of you.

Ra’s picked him up, and you watched in horror as he hurled him toward you. Batman collided with you so hard that he broke the chair you were in. It sent you back into one of the many crates in the room.

Batman groaned as you lifted him off of you. You slid over to the side on the floor. He was definitely not light. He knocked the only wind out of you that remained after Ra’s punishment.

No more chair meant your hands were free.

You pulled your arms around to the front. You could try to take him like this. Even though you could hear him laughing in the foreground.

“Here.”

You looked over at Batman. He was holding out one of his knives, shaped like a bat. You took it without passing a comment on it. You passed the blade over the restraints and made quick work of them.

On your feet, the laughter stops. You inched closer and closer to him.

“I didn’t snatch your body, your mother handed you over when she found out you were murdered. She asked me for this!” he said.

You stopped.

“What are you talking about?”

“When you died she went to a very dark place. With how dark she got it didn’t take long for her to find one of my associates and get in contact with me. She begged for you to be brought back. Her child!”

You ran into the attack. The words that came from his mouth just made you see red. He threw his fists but you ducked and weaved. After weaving you landed multiple blows on him. You grabbed him by the shoulders and brought your knee into him.

He went down a bit, only for a few seconds, then got his bearings back. Ra’s spit out the blood from his mouth.

“You’ll leave here with no parents. And it’ll be at my behest.”

In through the door comes Robin. A robin with a face too familiar to hide behind a mask.

“Grandfather!” the little robin shouted.

That makes you look behind you. At Batman. Bruce Wayne.

Your father was Batman. Your father.

#dc x reader #batman x reader #damian wayne x reader #Bruce Wayne x reader #Ra's al Ghul x reader #robin x reader #Tim Drake x reader #Nightwing x reader #Dick Grayson x reader #Jason Todd x reader #PAST LIVES

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fleckcmscott · 4 years ago

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Coffee & Donuts

Summary: Arthur’s thrilled to be part of a crowd. Though the evening doesn’t go perfectly, Y/N’s flirtations make it sweet.

Warnings: Smut

Words: 4,602

A/N: Alright. After the heart wrenching angst of my last piece (which I love, by the way; don't get me wrong! 😂), I had to write another story in which Arthur and Y/N are happy and together. It's inspired by one of Arthur's visions during their kiss. I hope you all like it! Special thanks to @jokerownsmysoul for beta-ing!

If you have any thoughts or questions, please comment, feel free to message me, or send me an ask. Requests for Arthur and WWH are open!

Parties and celebrations weren't foreign to Arthur. He'd worked plenty, enough to make him realize what he'd been missing out on. He was well-versed in pin the tail on the donkey, musical chairs, and balloon animals. But as an adult, those activities didn't satisfy. He wanted to be included rather than paid. Connect with people, introduce himself. Discuss his experiences and pursuits. Feel sufficiently at ease to loosen up a little and have a good time.

Now he was a guest - a certified guest - at Patricia Gorman's fifty-sixth birthday party. The first party he'd been invited to since being the weird kid in class who'd rotated between three worn out sweaters and could never afford a gift.

He'd been a tad apprehensive about going to Burnside. Gotham's nicest borough had a reputation for high rents and low tolerance. When Y/N and he had entered 2E, however, Patricia's greeting ("You made it!") and the apartment were thoroughly welcoming. Crocodile brown walls and forest green shag carpet made the spacious living room a cozy hideaway. Marigolds leapt across the polyester of the T-cushion sofa and its easy-chair companion. The floor lamp's amber, crimped glass shades cast the spacious living room in a glow borrowed from warm autumn days.

Patricia's husband, Robert, was out on an emergency call. An HVAC had gone haywire in a residential building in Hinckley. Her daughter, son-in-law, and grandson had been by for lunch. That meant the only other guests were Matt - Y/N's old boss - and a bottle-blonde in a black halter dress and spike heels, who Y/N introduced as Laura. ("She's Matt's ex-wife," Y/N later disclosed. "He's been trying to win her back since I moved to Gotham.") Both shook Arthur's hand when he offered it, and he felt a little thrill whirl his stomach when Y/N laid claim to him by telling the woman, "This is my husband."

A collection of appetizers served as dinner, a fun and novel menu. The slow cooker meatballs Y/N and he had lugged over on the subway were a bit tangy; he still couldn't believe the recipe called for grape jelly. The deviled eggs with paprika, a pleasant mix of savory and sweet, was a dish he'd heard about on television. Cream cheese and cucumber sandwiches were light and airy, a good match for his iced tea. Only the artichoke and spinach dip gave him pause. Its beans and hot sauce made his taste buds wince.

That unpleasant flavor was quickly forgotten when Y/N pulled him to sit next to her on the sofa, so Patricia could open her presents. She proudly showed off the orange, clay ashtray her grandson had made for her. Arthur, having successfully kept the secret of her light smoking from Y/N, chuckled at Patricia fibbing she'd put candy in it. She thanked Matt and Laura for the champagne, wrapped in a silver bow with a simple "Happy Birthday" tag. The bottle wasn't popped. Upon peeking into the large giftbag Y/N placed on her lap, she made a soft sound. The Dazey whirlpool bath, which attached to the side of the tub and had three strength settings, was a hit. She announced her plans to try it in the morning. The dark blue Rexbuilt briefbag was intended to replace her cracked, leather briefcase, Y/N explained. Patricia ran her fingertips along the expanding inner compartments, the personalized planner that included the credential "CLA" after her name, and flipped through the included steno pads, eyes brimming.

She sipped at her cocktail and put an arm around Y/N. Melancholy tinged Patricia's voice. "At my age, the people in your life tend to stay the people in your life. Whether you like them or not." She reached further and patted Arthur's knee. "I'm glad an old dame like me gets to call you all friends." His throat clenched in gratification, though he wasn't daring enough to squeeze her hand and thank her for deciding he was a friend.

Still on top of the world an hour later, Arthur sauntered to the red and white enamel dining table to serve himself a second slice of upside-down pineapple cake. The evening had gone well, better than a guy with a natural inability to mingle could've expected. He bobbed his head to the beat of "Come Fly with Me." It was a happy coincidence that Patricia's taste in music aligned with his. She'd regaled him with tales of seeing Sinatra and Count Basie on her and Robert's honeymoon in Vegas. Arthur took a bite absentmindedly, wondering how long it would take for him to save the money to surprise Y/N with plane and concert tickets.

The daydreaming didn't last long. Matt's plodding footsteps preceded him, followed by a long sigh as he propped himself on the beige stone of the dining area's accent wall, across from the u-shaped kitchen. He held out a Budweiser and smirked. "Marriage is a hell of a lot of work."

Pleased that he was being treated like one of the guys, like a regular husband with a regular relationship who got to speak about his regular wife, Arthur accepted the beer and considered the comment. Matt's sentiment was hard to grasp. Dr. Sally had said marriage could be difficult, and Y/N's first hadn't survived the ripples of her life. But it didn't feel like work with her. Their arguments were minor. Her nagging him to find a primary doctor for annual check-ups, even though he'd survived this long without one. Or back in Missouri, when he'd told her to stop shielding him and trust he could take anything she had to give.

Arthur adopted a similar nonchalant posture and jutted his hip against the table's edge. "I like it. It's easy to take good care of her." He wasn't able to completely erase the smugness of success from his tone.

"You're what? Two years in with the most headstrong woman in Gotham? She's great and all, but she spikes my blood pressure." Matt slapped Arthur's back and let out a hearty guffaw. "Give it five more and you'll be in my office trying to avoid alimony."

"Don't. Say that." Arthur crinkled the can in his grip and glared up at him.

"Hey," Matt started, withdrawing even as he tried diplomacy. "It was just a joke. I didn't mean anything by it."

Flinching, pulling at the cuffs of his red sweater, Arthur fought the surge of anger in his veins. It wouldn't do to lose control and cause a scene. Of course Matt's comment about them splitting up was supposed to be a joke. But Arthur didn't find it one bit funny. Even with his complete faith in her and his firm belief that they were meant to be together, the possibility that she'd stop wanting him hurt. It didn't occur to him that the implication of the punchline could be that he'd get sick of Y/N.

With a muttered apology, Matt walked to the others in the kitchen. Arthur glanced over to see her laugh tipsily, until she grabbed her stomach and swatted Patricia's shoulder, a stark demonstration of how much he and Y/N differed. She always knew how to respond to people, the right comebacks. Appropriate timing and levels of interaction. It seemed she was in her natural element, the loveliest swan on a lake. Whereas after years of therapy and practice with her, he was still a fish out of water, flopping around on the shoreline in hopes some stranger would take pity on him and throw him back into the sea.

Maybe that was the real punchline. Eventually their contrasts would no longer complement each other and instead become a chore.

Scowling, he ambled towards the record player stationed before two double-hung windows. Increased the volume to drown out the intrusive notions. It didn't really work. He settled on a grounding technique he'd practiced, all the while lamenting that he couldn't handle a party without needing it. His attention went to the spinning LP, the needle following its grooves. The bright blue album cover, where Ol' Blue Eyes beckoned him, the scuff marks on the cardboard's corner edges. He acknowledged the spider plants sat on the windowsill, worried a papery leaf until it broke off. He stared out the window, taking in the whole of the city. Pinpricks of light dazzling in the darkness.

"Gotham's beautiful at night," Y/N said from behind him. He glanced over his shoulder to watch her approach. Her cheeks glowed with alcohol and good cheer, the collar of her ivory blouse unbuttoned. "There's a life behind every light out there. Ten million of them. Here. Try this." She offered her hurricane glass, filled with an off-white slush.

He sipped the pina colada with cautious skepticism and grimaced as soon as it hit his tongue. The blend of pineapple and coconut tasted of cheap sunscreen and tropical imitations, the kind advertised in smudged brochures for bad cruises to islands with made up sounding names. "No, thanks."

Snorting, she shrugged and embraced his back at the waist. "How are we doing?" she asked, curling into his side. After a few seconds, she prodded him. "Had your fill of Matt?"

"He was just joking." Arthur rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. She set the drink next to the record player and brought her hand to his, trailed it over the inside of his wrist, up his forearm. She pecked his chin and nudged him until he turned to her. As soon as their gazes met, the concern in hers told him she'd continue to pepper him with questions. But he wasn't about to let his misplaced doubts spoil her evening. And he knew the perfect way to distract them both.

A new song started. An oldie that sang of Jupiter and Mars, playfulness among the stars. He cupped her cheek, thumb sweeping the corner of her mouth. "Dance with me," he said. Before accepting his proffered palm, she laid a sloppy kiss on him. With a flutter of her eyelashes, she grinned, and his smile grew to match her own. As he held her side, led her in a slow, swaying circle, he marveled at her. At her ability to soothe every molecule, every lingering ache. Self-assurance welled in him, chased away his earlier dejection. He cradled her to his lanky frame, trembled and felt himself blush. She was the only woman for him. That was as certain as his cigarette habit.

Despite Patricia's reassurances she was fine, that Robert working late wasn't unusual, Y/N insisted on staying until he got home. Though Arthur would have preferred they take their leave an hour earlier, being allowed to smoke inside blunted his grumbling. The disarming flirtations she bestowed on him also didn't hurt. She'd pour herself a drink (four in total, if he counted correctly), help Patricia make a plate of leftovers for her husband, then throw him a wink. Whisper and cackle while cleaning, then kiss his temple.

Around midnight, Patricia put her foot down. Ushered them out with a promise to call and a hug fierce enough to crush his ribs. She raised a brow at Y/N's unsteady gait, grasped Arthur's arm, and said with a wry, tired smile, "Make sure you put that woman straight to bed." His dark brows shot up and held. Had she intended a pun? Or had Y/N's spare caresses caused the interpretation? Either way, he liked being trusted to take care of her. And the hint of arousal that flared in his belly.

By the time they stumbled into their apartment, that arousal had reduced to a dull exhaustion. She kicked off her heels on the way to the bathroom, calling a slurred "night!" as she closed the door. Yawning, he put dish soap and hot water in the crockpot, scrubbed burned bits of sauce from its rim, turned it upside down on a towel to dry. Once he'd brushed his teeth for one minute rather than the recommended two, he tossed his sweater, trousers, briefs, and socks in the hamper, and went to the bedroom. He found his blue pajamas in their usual spot, the chair in the corner, and slid them up his skinny but toned legs. Tucked in next to her, he was carried to sleep on waves of fatigue and her quiet, wet snoring.

~~~~~

A tickle threatened to rouse him. Whispers along the waistband of his bottoms. Heat snuggled his back. Delightfully drowsy, he cuddled deeper into cozy, cream-color sheets, already returning to a pleasant, dreamless slumber. But a rumble of exhaust, likely from a bus that needed a new muffler, dragged him to consciousness. Arthur grumbled and tucked his arm under his pillow, not ready to transition to a world of overcrowding and concrete, commotion and bad jokes.

Yet, Y/N's insistent grazes continued, luring him with promises of placid pleasure. Her toes wiggled at his heel until he made space for her to slip her foot between his ankles. The corner of his mouth quirked. He was reminded of last night's playfulness, her endless teasing. The way he'd held the crockpot as a shield to fend off her advances on the train home, her forwardness to the point that he would've preferred having a laminated card to present on her behalf. Forgive my wife: she has a condition. It causes frequent and uncontrollable displays of affection.

Nimble fingers edged lower, loosened the tie of his pajamas before dipping beneath the loose elastic to lace through his dark brown curls, darker than the chestnut hair on his head. Her knuckles ran over him, lazy caresses full of intent. Up and down, up and down. Delicate. Deliberate. The blood racing to his groin, the pleasant swelling, made his abdomen twitch. Soon full and heavy, the sensitive tip straining the cotton seams, he pressed his lips together. When she skimmed the tender skin resting on his inner thigh, he flexed the muscle at the base of his erection. It bobbed and hit her wrist and she let loose a girlish giggle, more intoxicating than wine.

With her left leg draped over him at the knee, she undulated against his rear. Plush lips brushed the boney knobs of his spine, damp breath fanned the nape of his neck, labored, needy. Pebbled nipples grazed his back through the thin nylon of her nightgown, taunting and compelling. He made up his mind to throw an arm around her, to yank her on top of him. To eagerly take part in her seduction.

But she withdrew from his bottoms to palm his stomach and plant a gentle kiss to the shell of his ear, whispering, "Sleep tight." The mattress shifted and she rolled away from him. He furrowed his brows. She rarely relented this easily - other times he'd awakened, hard and aching, enveloped by the captivating wetness of her mouth. What was she up to?

Covers rustled. Her calf bumped his. And the opposite of what he'd assumed occurred. Instead of light footfalls leading out of the room, there was silence, silence that seemed to stretch on and on...

Until a hitched gasp gave her away.

Touching herself. She was touching herself. She'd just been all over him, acted like he was some sort of model on the cover of Vue magazine, and now she was touching herself. Right beside him! Ecstatic to have inspired such brazenness, he grinned and fisted the pillow. Her fleeting, stifled moans tangled him in knots, implored him to give her what they both burned for.

He flipped in her direction, his hand shooting under the sheet to grab hers. "Gotcha."

Eyes wide, she gaped at him in surprise. But adoration softened her expression as she entwined their fingers. "How long have you been awake?" she asked.

"Long enough."

He stretched to rewind the shades, the diaphanous curtains staying in place. Sunlight diffused over them, wrapped around her face, lent her disheveled hair a warm luster. He twirled a feathered lock and pecked her eyelids. "Finishing what you started on the subway, hm?"

"Me?" Y/N brought his knuckles to her mouth. "You're the one who came to bed without any underwear."

"Well, it was a late night." The pad of his thumb tugged at her bottom lip to reveal the pink tip of her tongue. He bent to claim it. "I was lucky to find my pajamas."

Chuckling, she broke their connection. "Did you have a good time?"

"Yeah. The cake was good. And the music. Everyone was nice."

"Patricia loved having you there. She thought you were very sweet." A pause as she mapped a dimple. "Matt said he'd upset you. Something stupid about breaking up?"

Vague shadows of discomfort flashed through Arthur, a frustration he'd mostly moved on from. He did his best to ignore it, waving her concern away. "Don't worry about it."

"He was just jealous, you know." Her nails ran along the small of his back. "He wants Laura to look at him the way I look at you."

Arthur had spent so much of his life yearning for change, to understand his purpose in the world and improve himself. The idea that a man with a good education, a successful career, and no disabilities could ever be jealous of him was, frankly, bizarre. But he didn't correct Y/N, instead locking her praise within his heart, preserving it for when he needed it most. He boosted himself on his forearm and fiddled with her V-neck, traced its button loops as he slipped the plastic knobs through them. "And how's that?'

A hint of scandal glimmered in her irises. She arched into him as he eased a strap down her upper arm to reveal her shapely breast, the lilac fabric momentarily catching on its taut peak. "Like I can't get enough of you."

He huffed at that, fondled her faintly before his lips met the velvety skin of her chest. A tonic comprised of the musk oil she'd dabbed on before the party and distinct sexual wanting wafted to his nostrils. He licked at her nipple, the bumps on her areola, and drew it between his teeth. She whined softly and lifted the bottom of her nightdress to her waist.

Hurriedly, he yanked on the waistband of her cotton panties, pushed them past her knees. She kicked them off while he knelt to lower his bottoms. Straddling her, he pumped himself back to hardness and opened the drawer of her nightstand. He searched haphazardly until he retrieved a small, glass bottle of lubricant. (She'd ordered it from a mail catalog, both of them a bit too bashful to walk into an adult shop, even together.)

She snagged it from him and poured half a teaspoon in her hand, then palmed herself. He moved between her legs and she grasped his length, coating him with the warm, slippery liquid. He pushed forward into her. Gradually, slowly, savoring every millimeter of her enticing heat. He noted the stretch of her mouth, the jut of her jaw, the lifting of her upper lip. "Mmm..." she breathed and begged him to keep going. When he did, her head tilted back into the pillow, eyelids falling shut. A smile cut across her cheeks as she purred her satisfaction. "Arthur, I love you."

His touch wandered down the curve of her thigh. At the sight of her subtle writhing beneath him, the sway of her slightly uneven breasts in time with his languid thrusts, he pushed her knee into the mattress, splayed her wider. He grunted lowly. "Look at me."

Their gazes met but didn't hold for long; hers dropped to where they were joined. She caressed right above his pubic bone. "I love seeing you like this." Her fingertips walked a line up his sternum to his chest. "And touching you like this." She wrapped her arms around his middle and drew him to her, locked their lips in a greedy kiss. "And making love like this."

He snorted. "I think this is the only reason you married me."

"Well, not the only reason. There's your good hair, too."

"I've been thinking about cutting it. Trying something new."

"Don't you dare." She tugged at his loose curls, wore her best pout. "What else would I hold onto when we're doing this?"

Laughing lightly, he bumped his nose to hers. Falling into her was like falling into his old fantasies, the ones that'd sustained him through years of isolation. Dates at diners, at comedy clubs, at donut shops, at home. Their shapes had changed as he'd matured, his role in them, his aspirations and infatuations. But they'd remained a warm comfort nonetheless, a place that felt like belonging. And now he belonged with her. Hunger filled him. Happiness. And love. So much love, more than he'd ever believed he'd carried in him. He bucked a little harder. "You feel so good," he murmured. "You make me feel so good."

A strained cry left her and her pelvis answered his steady rhythm with demands of its own. Her calves rose to squeeze him closer, encircle his narrow hips. They were pressed together so tightly; it felt like they were one flesh. He never wanted it to stop. But a dizzying euphoria had ignited, one that eclipsed the romantic yearnings of his heart, twisting his desire to last all morning into the desperate drive to possess her. Gasping, Arthur raised himself to his knees, delving deeper with each push. Their foreheads met and he grit his teeth at the scald of her, the texture of her walls. She fit as though she'd been made for him.

He supposed she was.

Pressure began in the base of him, building and building in terrific torment. The muscles of his inner thighs contracted inward. Tingling climbed his shaft, his tailbone, his spine. He wove his fingers into the sheet, his grip a vise that wrested its corner from the mattress. She kissed the spot where his jaw met his neck, all the while murmuring encouragements for him to let himself go.

Bliss shot through him, from the tips of his toes to the follicles on his scalp, and his back stiffened as he whimpered and poured into. Fever engulfed his frame, sublime in its frenzy, leaving him in a heady stupor. Aftershocks made him tremble. Once, twice. Until, sated and spent, he landed on top her. He closed his eyes, ribs rising and falling as he forced air into his lungs.

A minute later, he swallowed and looked down at her. "You didn't come."

She carded through his sweaty locks. "It's all righ-"

"Shh." He slid out of her and settled at her side, reached between her legs to swipe at her core. "I'm not done," he declared, tracing the edges of her entrance, slick and swollen. One of his favorite things about getting her off was demonstrating his prowess in bed, how well he'd learned with her. His thumb met her plump clitoral hood, and he felt her throb beneath his ministrations.

Nails biting his bicep, she rocked upwards. A bewitching blush crept up her breast, her neck, spread across her cheeks. Shallow pants hit his face, short puffs suffused with high-pitched whines, utterly irresistible. He circled her nub at a steady cadence, tapping when she'd shiver, and she clasped the back of his hand. He swirled his tongue around her nipple, sucked the pretty peak, and lowered the other strap of her nightgown to bare her completely. A hushed plea fell from her lips. "Please, please..."

Suddenly, her vulva grew white hot and she seized, her hips stuttering with each flutter of his touch to her folds. She thrusts her breasts towards him, a sharp moan caught in her throat. Liquid pooled against his fingers, proof of her rapture that made him wish, with mild amusement, that he could be an unmedicated young man again. He would've gladly taken her a second time.

Giggling and rubbing her temple, she released a long exhale and opened her eyes. He brushed her hair back and grinned, completely smitten, like the first time he'd heard a joke and understood the punchline. The light brown picture frame on his nightstand caught his attention, and he regarded the wallet size photo in it, one of the shots of Y/N from the booth at Amusement Mile. The last thing he looked at before turning in each night. He lay his head her shoulder and hummed, listened to the drum of her heart.

She smooched his hairline and wriggled out from beneath him to stand. Her nightie had been reduced to a crumpled stripe of lilac cinched about her waist. It felt tawdry and shameless and he wanted to see her in it for the rest of the weekend. But she peeled it down her legs, wrinkling her nose when it got stuck on her thighs, and stepped out of it one foot at a time. She dropped it on the floral bedspread and retrieved her bathrobe from the closet. "Meet you in the kitchen," she said, opening the door.

The sun had risen higher, its beams slanting across the covers. He basked in it, catlike, then swung his legs over the side of the bed. He pulled on his pajamas, got a new pair of socks from their dresser, and made his way to the kitchen. He washed off the remnants of Y/N's arousal from his fingers, popped open a prescription bottle and took a tablet. He poured water into the coffeemaker, grabbed the can of grounds from the second shelf, added three scoops to the paper filter. Their three-tone brown mugs sat in their spot next to the machine, waiting to be filled.

When the glass coffeepot was half full, Y/N emerged from the bathroom, chuckling to herself. She opened the breadbox on the opposite counter and took out a wax paper bag. "Do you have any idea how dull this morning would have been if we'd never met? I'd have read the Sunday paper, had a drink. Probably worked on a file." He handed her a couple dessert plates, watched her put a donut on each one. "I wonder where you'd be. What woman you'd have breakfast with, what jokes you'd be writing, what magic tricks you'd have learned."

"Um..." At first he wanted to ask where this speculation had come from, if Matt had let her in on exactly what he'd said. But the confident slant of her smirk told Arthur she was teasing. He tried to play along but winced. No matter how appealing, how extraordinary she found him, his gut told him there wouldn't have been another woman. There'd be no more stand-up routines, no more Carnival. He certainly wouldn't be taking care of Penny. He'd likely be locked up in the hospital, maybe even dead. Without an anchor, his life would have lost what little sense it had.

Y/N was one of his anchors now, hooked into the sand alongside his material, treatment, the ability to pay bills. He seized her hand and squeezed it tight, unaware he was squishing her fingers. "I don't wanna think about it," he said quietly.

She sidled up to him and pulled him to her side. Rubbed his flank soothingly and pecked the corner of his mouth. "Don't worry." She took his chin and guided him to look at her. The intimate comfort of her smile helped him believe her next words, even before she spoke them. "I'll always be here."

~~~~~

Tag list (Let me know if you want to be added!): @harmonioussolve @ithinkimaperson @sweet-nothings04 @stephieraptorr @rommies @fallenstarsabyss @gruffle1 @octopus-plasma @tsukiakarinobara @arthur-flecks-lovely-smile @another-day-in-chuckletown @hhandley80 @jokerownsmysoul @fakestreet @ralugraphics @iartsometimes

#arthur fleck #arthur fleck fanfic #arthur fleck smut #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck x female reader #arthur fleck x ofc #joker 2019 #watchwhathappens

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deaddee-anime-brownfanlady · 3 years ago

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BATJOKES Vigilantism & Fatherhood DRAMA AU: Bruce Wayne and Jack on Differencing Parental styles also Conflicting Moral issues, Baby troubles bits.

(So before I continue on with the rest of the small details of Joker & Harley Quinn first time meeting & them becoming like this crime spreeing friends duo / also how Joker “Jack" meets up with Bruce again & them reconnecting becoming more romantically involved...yet also having to deal with the Children of Arkham.) [Right here is just a side slice of Bruce & Jack dealing with being first time fathers to their son also along with other regular weird bullshit within Gotham City.] With having little Malik newly apart of both their lives now, lives that are already filled with enough adrenaline fueled high obtaining levels of stress also danger that’s comes with being heroes and doing the whole vigilante thing in keeping Gotham safe. Now double that with a baby within the mix as well, on top of that there still dealing with the after effects of the entire Children of Arkham mess also the possibility of Lady Arkham most likely still being alive also having to deal with other villain rouges & Bruce and Jack now have a son to worry about amongst everything else, so yeah there hands are pretty real full. While Jack might be fully rehabilitated...that isn’t to say that his mental problems / issues are “gone for good” or “ he no longer has them” even though he's been doing so much better also been very good as of late especially with officially moving in with Bruce, he still every now & then prone to getting bad panic attacks or gets way highly overwhelmed or have night terrors sometimes, he has scheduled therapy sessions with Dr. Leland which helps a lot as well as being medicated too which clams his hyper overactive brain. With Malik around both of there routines had greatly changed, especially in terms of nighttime-patroling which before tend to usually involved both of them but now with a infant son they have to take turns or one of them stays behind. Even with Alfred helping out with Malik when Bruce & Jack are out working on a case or dealing with some villain rouge , they can’t help but still worry about their little boy especially Jack, Bruce knows that if there is any danger at the manor he perfectly setup extra protective precautions within every single inch also rooms of Wayne manor, including the nursery most importantly. Also he knows Alfred will always be willing & ready to be on the lookout for Malik who is particularly his grandson. NOW ON BOTH BRUCE & JACK DIFFERENING PARENTING MOMENTS & BABY MALIK TIDBITS : While Malik isn’t yet at the age to talk as of now, but further on down the mouths or so he’ll eventually start calling Bruce "Dada" & Jack "Baba" although that soon will change into "Papa". | When it comes to bonding & playtime, Bruce enjoys lifting Malik up in the air and holding him tight to pretend fly also whoosh him around like a airplane , other ways Bruce likes to bond with his little man is to help him with his little baby exercises or most of all he loves having Malik sleeping & just laying on top of his chest, holding Malik so close & tight to him always calms him down or helps takes his mind off the constant pressure also worries of keeping Gotham city safe. Malik always manage to help grounds him and drives him even more to make Gotham a better place. Now another thing Jack loves to do for his sweet tiny boy is dress him up in all kinds of crazy outfits & cute clothes, such as super bright also colorful onesies with different kinds of fun patterns. Like polka dots or zigzags or ones with animals on them, he enjoys dressing Malik in funny, adorable themed clothing like having him as a bat with the little ears also including with little flappy wings, he’ll have him dress as a bear or an ducky also a shark too. | Bruce sometimes thinks that Jack tends to goes a bit overbroad with the outfits but he tries not to get on him too much about it since he knows how much its means to Jack, ones of Jack favorites things to do in terms of bonding or playing with his dear boy is blowing raspberries on Malik chubby cheeks also on his tummy and play pretending to eat his little feet & toes or making silly faces also other weird faces that would mostly either creep out or put-off anybody else...considering Jack sometimes inhuman unsettling wide full teeth smile & grin that’s freaks some people out ; but for little Malik it tends to get a giggle out of him or hearing his Papa laughing and non-stop off-kilter giggling always gets a excited or happy gurgle/coo out of him because he knows Papa is near or around. | Yet another thing Jack loves to do when it comes to entertaining his boy is to uses one of his many stuffed animals as like puppets and add funny voices to each of them with their own little personalities as a way to either make Malik laugh or a way to comfort him when super upset. | NOW ON SOME MORAL ISSUES / PROBLEMS BETWEEN B & J. | As mention before when Bruce & Jack are out and about as Batman & Joker handling criminals or villains or other hardcore crimes in Gotham, while they tend to usually work well together on a case or being a power house duo. They tend to have their every now and then non-stop back & forth arguments with each other on dealing with Batman/Bruce *No Killing code* , Jack ‘Joker’ deeply feels that some or a good half of most of the scumbags they deal with...especially ones who’ve done things like Rape or child abuse & such would be much better off dead instead of them lock in prison and yet every time when Jack expresses these thoughts or what he feels should be done, its always ends up in a fight on morality or on “what heroes can’t do” with Bruce. Bruce sometimes have to constantly reminds Jack on not going way too hard when they be crime-fighting criminals or even the big names villains since he knows how much violence gets Jack riled up or seriously turn him on or how he tends to enjoy it a bit too much sometimes, Bruce has to reminds Jack that if he does kill or goes off the edge again then all that hard work on bettering himself would be for naught or if he gets sent back to Arkham again then Malik wouldn’t have his loving Papa around anymore. While Jack still seriously don’t believe in the whole “Heroes don’t kill” junk, he wouldn’t for the life of him ever risk losing his little prince; But one thing for sure with Jack that if anybody and he means anybody whether they be mob bosses or low goons or high level super-villains or basically anyone ever tries to do anything to harm his baby boy...then they can kiss their asses goodbye for good because he’ll make sure there killed painfully and horribly in the most worst ways possible...he doesn’t care if it against Bruce code at all, like if someone trying to hurt his son in any kind of way there dead period end of story. He sure that Bruce can at least understands that.

#batjokes #batjokes au #batman x joker #the joker #batman #batman telltale au #dadsbatjokes Au #joker #batjokes headcanons #jack napier×batman #dadbatjokes au #jack napier #john doe telltale #joker x batman #batman telltale #bruce wayne #joker headcanons #bruce wayne headcanon

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avaritia-apotheosis · 3 years ago

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Phantom Children Ch. 3

In which: Danny getting yeeted into the Lazarus Pit yields anticlimactic consequences and Bruce Wayne converses with a fruit loop.

AO3 | Prologue | 2 | [ 3 ] | 4 |

DANIEL BARELY HAD TIME TO SCREAM before he’s plunged into the green depths of the Lazarus pit, primeval waves crashing against the walls of the pool. Talia flicked her wrist, signaling the ten League members hidden in the shadows to approach. Each one spaced equally apart around the pit with smoke pellets synthesized from blood blossoms held in their hands, ready to drop at a moment’s notice.

Pit madness rendered the majority of the living uncontrollable, with even the weakest of humans imbued with a strength that could only be induced by the purest of rage. The League was not taking chances as to how a being like her son would react to it.

The waters stilled.

Then—

A bright flash of light. Then, faster than the eyes could follow, a figure erupted from the waters. Bone white hair that twisted and curled as if it were still underwater. Skin lightly tinged frostbitten blue and clad in a suit of black and white and shrouded in an aura of blinding light. Phantom appeared from the depths, floating above the pit like a god reborn.

His eyes burned a toxic green.

“What the fuck was that?”

But not pit madness green.

Talia ordered her assassins to at ease with a raise of her hand. She slowly walked to her father’s side just as her son—Phantom—landed at the edge of the pool. Idly, Talia noticed how different Phantom seemed in comparison to her son. Physical attributes aside, Daniel tended to make himself smaller. What venom that may coat his words and the vitriol in his glares dampened by the way he held himself. Shoulders hunched and head tilted down. Non-threatening. Hands always needing to do something, whether it be holding his arms or shoved inside his pockets or constantly brushing it through his hair. No matter how she and his instructors taught him how to hold himself like a warrior, like a soldier, he still tended to present himself as a skittering little animal.

Phantom was different. He squared his soldiers and lifted his chin high, unafraid to stretch out to his fullest height and use his defiance of gravity to make himself look bigger. Stronger. His arms held steady at his sides, curled into tight fists. Green eyes—green as the Lazarus pit yet without that spark of madness that so consumed everyone else—burning with righteous fury.

“You fucking threw me into the weird green pool. What even—who does that?”

Ra’s tilted his head. “Fascinating. It seems you have a resistance to the pit madness.”

Phantom blinked, caught off guard. “Pit…madness,” he echoed. A statement, though from the wrinkle in his brows and the look he shoots Talia, it was more a question than anything else.

“It is one of the side effects of the Lazarus pits.” Talia approached her son with caution, holding his face with both hands and inspecting for any differences. “While the waters rejuvenate, restore, and even temporarily imbue one with supernatural strength, it also tends to inflict users with temporary insanity.”

“Insanity?” His eyes widened, trembling hands coming up to hold her wrists. Strangely, Daniel did not pull away from her touch. “I could have gone insane?”

Those bright eyes of his looked so frightened. Haunted. Pupils dilated to mere pinpricks of blackness, lost in a sea of Lazarus green. “Oh habeebi, only temporarily.”

“Like that’s better!” He yelled. “Even temporarily, I’m—” He staggered back, breaking out of her hold. Harmless Danny Fenton bleeding into proud Phantom as he ran his hands through his hair, unwilling to look at anyone.

Ra’s continued to watch, his arms crossed beneath his sternum, muttering to himself. Her father had prided himself on being one of the most knowledgeable about the Lazarus pits and its effects. Now, faced with a new mystery, the scholar within the Demon’s Head emerged as he observed his grandson.

“No,” Ra’s said, mostly to himself. “Perhaps less of a ‘resistance’ and more of an ‘immunity’ to it, given how both Daniel and the Lazarus pit have similar compositions. It would be a fascinating tangent to follow.” He chuckled to himself. “How droll. The life-restoring Lazarus pit holding a connection to the land of the dead.”

Talia turned to her father. “So, Daniel will not feel any of the pit’s side effects, then?”

Daniel perked up at the sound of his name, halting in his pacing. “I…might not go insane?”

“Perhaps, though it is too soon to tell. You have the waters of the Lazarus pit flowing through your veins, Daniel.” Ra’s smiled; eyes gleaming with the sparks of pride. “You and it are made of the same chemicals, the same reality-defying compounds that can bring the dead back to life.”

“Well, great. I have the same chemical makeup as a glowing hot tub, what else is new—” Her son staggered, and she caught him. Impossibly bright rings formed at his abdomen and then split, transforming Phantom back into a human. Mortal. His face haggard and sweating from the temples, eyes back to her beloved’s pale blues.

Her father did not bat an eye. “The pit’s healing effects are slowed down, then? Or perhaps it is because he has no wounds to heal?” Ra’s hummed; chin cradled in his hand. “Set him back into the pits, Talia. I believe young Daniel has yet to absorb all his needed energy.”

“Sure, yeah, that’s fine. Put me back in the crazy water, why not?” Daniel tugged at her shoulders. “Just…gently, please?”

Talia smoothed down his dark hair with a smile. “Of course, habeebi. I will even stay with you as well.”

When he looked at her, it was something almost akin to gratefulness.

------

In Gotham City, the upper echelons of society gather together at the Gotham Expo Center. The shining halls, which had been used as the site of a week-long exhibition of new scientific research, was reoutfitted to serve as the venue for the exhibition’s final event.

A gala. The hunting ground of the nouveau riche and old money families. Corporate moguls and debutants made their rounds across the floor, chatting with heirs and politicians and the who’s who of the upper class.

Scientists and researchers attempted to step out of their shells and dazzle the crowds. Wanting to fish a willing patron with deep pockets to fund their next project. Reporters huddled together like schools of fish, warily approaching the predators in their midst for a question or a photo. Both things many of the wealthy and affluent are easily ready to give, as long as it only showed off their best side in tomorrow’s society papers.

Bruce Wayne, the Prince of Gotham, and society’s darling observed everything as he always did, in that most people believed he barely noticed anything beyond what’s right in front of him. He raised the flute glass of champagne to his lips, pretending to take a sip as he listened to the chatter of sycophants around him. A few were even some promising researchers of which he made a mental note to pass along to Lucius.

Two nights ago, Bruce received a tip of unusual movements from the League of Assassins. The organization had been quiet as of late, and while Bruce had been very carefully monitoring their activities in the background, the sudden tightening of their security prompted him to take a closer look.

There had been sightings of the League of Assassins centered around a small town in Illinois—Amity Park. A rural tourist trap championing itself as the most haunted place in America. Something that Bruce would normally scoff at or zealously research about if not for John Constantine’s warning to “never go within a ten-mile radius of that hellhole.” With similar sentiments from others in the occult community, the Justice League decided to take that warning to heart. Bruce’s curiosity may have been piqued, but even he was tactful enough to avoid courting more trouble.

Suffice to say, Bruce—and especially Batman—could not afford to ignore Ra’s al Ghul’s movements. Whatever his plans were involved whatever anomalies were going on in Amity Park. And wasn’t it simply serendipitous that one of the guest lists for tonight’s gala was Vlad Masters, the mayor of Amity Park?

“Vlad Masters, is that you?” Bruce, slapping on his signature Brucie smile, masterfully detached himself from his previous group, quickly heading towards the nearby bar where he spotted Vlad getting another drink.

“Why, Bruce Wayne, it’s been so long!” The two shook hands, of which Bruce was slightly surprised at how cold to the touch Vlad was. A health condition, perhaps. Then again, there was something in Vlad’s appearance and stature that spoke of a deeper reason.

“It’s been, what, two years? What brings you to Gotham?”

“Business; the usual really.” Despite whatever friendly aura they’re projecting, Bruce Wayne and Vlad Masters weren’t friends. More acquaintances that have been forced to mingle a few times because of the nature of their business and the demands of high society. From what Bruce knows, Vlad is a business tycoon that’s as blindingly charismatic as he was infamous for his quick rise to wealth and a few rather shady dealings.

Bruce stuck his hand in his pocket. “Well Vlad, last we all heard was you dipping your toes into politics. You’re a, uh, what, a governor?”

Vlad let out an obviously fake chuckle. “Oh nothing as grand as that. I’m only a small-town mayor, really.”

“Right!” Bruce snapped his fingers. “So, what’s that like?”

“Oh dreadful work, really. So much paperwork, so many things to do or oversee, but rewarding in its own way.” He puffed out his chest. “Many of the people in Amity Park do rely on me, you know. Though I’m afraid my schedule’s busy enough that I barely have time to go home!”

“Well, we’re very happy that you made room enough to visit us here in Gotham.”

Bruce sensed Damian coming to stand beside him and instinctually placed a hand around his shoulder. Though his youngest had been steadily adjusting to his new life here in Gotham, he still preferred to stick to his father’s shadow than mingle with those of his own age groups at galas. (Then again, Bruce was very similar when he was younger so perhaps it was a genetic thing).

He smiled down at Damian—frowning as he’d rather be patrolling the streets in uniform as opposed to schmoozing with people he hardly cared about. “Have you met my son, Vlad? Damian, this is Vlad Masters, a business partner and a, uh—” He scrunched his face, pretending to remember what Vlad’s current occupation is. “Mayor of some small town out west.”

Bruce turned to look at Vlad, expecting to see some variation of ‘insulted but trying to keep up a polite façade’—only to freeze.

Vlad’s face paled considerably. His beady eyes comically wide as he looked at Damian, the fingers curled around the stem of his flute glass bone white. Damian, unnerved, steadied his stance but shifted minutely closer to Bruce.

Well, this was interesting. “You alright, Vlad? You looked like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

Vlad jerked his head towards Bruce. Surprise—and fear? —contorted his features for a brief moment before smoothed back down into a proper mask. “Mayor of Amity Park, yes. My apologies,” he chuckled. “Young—Damian, was it? —only reminded me of someone I knew once.” He shifted his gaze back to Damian. “The resemblance is actually quite uncanny.”

Damian furrowed his brows. “Amity Park?”

“You’ve heard of it, Damian?”

“I would be surprised if you did.” Vlad masters took a small ship of his champagne. “Then again, it should be expected that you might have heard of it. The town does love it’s ghosts.”

Bruce laughed. “What, like Casper?”

“Something like that, yes.” There’s a tightness to Vlad’s voice. “Amity Park is its own breed of strange. We’ve handled things well enough on our own in the past, and quite honestly you get used to all of the spooks eventually. Though I must say the shadows are quite new—I’d often ask myself if I should petition your city’s vigilante and put him on the case.

“Shadows?”

Vlad easy smile shifted into a faint grimace. “They have a rather nasty habit of snooping.”

------

Despite Bruce and Damian’s attempt at plying Vlad for more answers, Vlad kept his mouth shut, evading questions and changing topics skillfully. Something that only raised Bruce’s alarm that something was going on.

“So,” Bruce unbuttoned his suit as he stepped into the car, “How did you hear of Amity, Damian? Ghosts and ghouls don’t exactly seem like something you’d be interested in.”

He waited for Damian to buckle his seatbelt before shifting the Bentley into drive and pulling out of the Expo. They had stayed at the gala long enough, making their rounds and giving the media enough for a headline in the society pages.

Damian rested his hand against the window. His face scrunched as he watched the looming facades of Gotham’s architecture pass by. “Mother mentioned the name once or twice,” he said. “I was not…privy to every operation that happened in the League, so I don’t know anything despite that my grandfather took an interest in Amity.”

“And I’m sure that from Masters’ odd phrasing, Ra’s didn’t just magically lose that interest either.” He narrowed his eyes. “Contact Oracle and have her dig up everything we need to know about the situation in Amity Park. I think it’s time Batman made his introductions to some out-of-town guests.”

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

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imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl · 4 years ago

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Dangerous Love (Pt. 13 of 13)

Pairing: Bruce Wayne (Batman) X Harley Quinn's sister!Reader

Word count: 1.7 K

Summary: You're Harley Quinn's sister, Havoc, one of the many villain's of Gotham. But you've been caught, and has been tortured constantly for an year in Belle Reve. But when your think your life can't be anything else than the nightmare you find yourself into, Bruce Wayne, the Batman, takes you in for a project. He has a program to rehabilitate villains, and you're his lab rat. But soon enough confusing feelings start getting in the way. You know falling for Bruce is stupid. But can you keep your heart under control?

<- Previous part (12)

{Justice League - DC Masterlist}

Freedom

“Bruce! I'm back!” You yell as you push the door closed with your back, carrying the two bags from the supermarket. Alfred is driving the car to the garage. Today was the fourth time you went out all by yourself. Alfred has to drive since you still can't take your license, but you feel like you're doing well. He stays in the car while you buy the stuff you want, and it's actually good to be out there, with the people. “I met this sweet lady on the line and she was so cute. She told me about her grandson who's starting in the kinder garden this year.” You follow the sound of his voice coming from the living room, leaving the bags on the table at the main hall and making your way there. “She–”

The words get stuck on your throat when you see he's not alone. Amanda Waller and the other five people responsible for Belle Reve are here. You're frozen, busted because you don't know if they should know about all the freedom you're having. You look at Bruce, searching for any signs of what to do. His expression is calm, light, and he reaches out his hand. “Come here, sweetheart.” He says, and you take a few seconds to find your legs, making your way over him, taking his hand, noticing how yours are shaking.

“Is everything alright?” You whisper to him.

“I see Havoc is already allowed out. And apparently without your supervision.” One of the men speaks, his angry eyes on you. This one wants you back in your cell, being beaten up.

“She is. (Y/N) is adapting wonderfully well.” Bruce says. “This is not the first time she goes out without me, and there hasn't been any kind of incident.”

“I couldn't help but notice you engaged in a romantic relationship with her,” Amanda states, reading something on her tablet. “The rest of the world didn't recognize her, but we did. You've been seen with her in... Three different galas.”

“I'm well aware of the contract we both signed, Amanda. I made it. And a romantic relationship wasn't mentioned, which means it wasn't forbidden.” You hold tight on his arm as he speaks. “And yes, I've been to some parties with her, I believe you saw us on the news.”

“I don't need you to tell me about the contract, Bruce. I read it. And honestly, I couldn't care less about who you want to put in your bed.” She mumbles, typing something down. “Let's make it quick, Bruce. We're here for a reason, but Havoc isn't the only criminal we have to deal with.”

“Her name is (Y/N). And soon enough you won't have to deal with her anymore.” Bruce turns to you, placing a kiss on your lips. “I need you to wait upstairs, my love. You can't be present while we discuss this.”

Nodding, you give them one last look before walking away.

But you can't go to your room. You're too scared now. What if you lose what you have here? Your life with Bruce... If you're thrown back in Belle Reve... You can't handle it anymore, you'll die. Inside first, until your body gives up. So you move downstairs, a few steps so the wall is hiding you, sitting down and paying attention, trying to bring sense to their words.

“Mr. Wayne, eight months ago you took in one of Belle Reve's intern, (Y/N) Quinzel, also known as Havoc, to test a project of your creation. In which you tried to rehabilitate her, so that she could have a life out of her criminal actions, being able to be fully reintroduced into life in society.” The man speaks slow, and by the looks of it, they must be recording it. “Do you believe your project succeded?”

“Yes.” Bruce answers.

“Do you believe (Y/N) could be released to live among other people without causing any kind of harm, stealing, killing, torturing, or any other dangerous behavior?”

“Yes.”

“Are you aware that the condition for her release is you being completely responsible for her actions from now on?”

“Yes, I am.”

“It will be like a damn marriage, Wayne.” Someone says, and your heart stops. “Anything she does, she steals a freaking pencil, you'll have to answer for it. You'll be bound for life.”

“Good,” Bruce mumbles, and you hear some laughs.

“For goodness sake, Wayne. I get that you want to have fun with her. The girl is insane but pretty, I'm not blind. But–”

“I'm not having fun with her. And you will watch your tongue before talking about (Y/N) again.” A smile comes to your lips, and you cover your mouth with a hand. Every passing day you're more and more sure that Bruce is going serious with you. That he has a goal with your relationship, but it still warms your heart when he says something like that.

“Whatever you want, Bruce Wayne,” Amanda mutters. “I will need you to sign here. And your fingerprints.”

A silence falls, and everything you hear is your heartbeat. Bruce told you he was starting the last procedures to set you free once and for all, but you didn't think it would happen so fast. Guess he did had everything under control after all.

Your mind suddenly floats back to when you first got here, when you tried to run, when you attacked him so brutally. Back then, on the first days, you never thought you'd fall for him. And it took a while for you to even allow yourself to. Bruce, being Batman, the hero, could never have feelings for you. And it's true that the signs where there, when he touched you, or when he went to your room to dance with you, leaving the party behind... But you were so scared back then... That you'd have your heart broken for the very first time.

But it had a happy ending. An ending you know you don't deserve. You want to be with Bruce, you want the life you have now, to go to college next month, study and become a nurse. Find a job and... The rest you don't know. But you know it'll be good.

“Go get the girl. I need her fingerprints too.” Amanda speaks up.

You hear his footsteps as they grow closer. You stand up when you see him on the bottom of the stairs, waiting until he reaches you.

“Did you hear it?”

You nod, letting yourself fall into his embrace when he opens his arms. “I don't want to see any of them ever again.”

“You won't, I promise.”

“Bruce... A-are you sure you'll sign that thing? I heard what they said.”

“Hey...” He pulls away, just enough to look into your eyes. “I already signed and I don't regret it. This is the last step, (Y/N), don't let them get to your head.”

“Okay,” you mumble, tiptoeing to kiss him.

Bruce guides you back to the living room, and you try to keep your head up, fearless.

“Havoc. Put both your hands here.” Amanda says, her voice filled with anger and disgust. She doesn't want to release you, but she has no choice. Nodding, you place both hands on her tablet. You watch as the screen reads all your ten fingerprints, and your picture appears on the top. Then, a green X covers it, blinking, and then everything is gone. And now, with your hand still on it, the screen shows up a few dots, and the word ‘searching’. “It's done, Havoc. But don't you ever come back under my jurisdiction again... I won't give you any other chance. Even if another Kryptonian comes from the sky demanding for it.”

“(Y/N).” you simply say, stepping back until you're by Bruce's side.

“Of course.” She mutters. “Well, I believe this is it. Mr. Wayne, I believe we're done here.”

“You may now kiss the bride, Wayne.” A man says, and two others laugh with him. You sink a little, stepping back, letting Bruce's shoulder hide you.

“You won't get an invitation Mr. Rochford, but I'm sure you'll know about it on the news,” Bruce says and the men immediately shut up. “I must ask you to leave now. Our business is over. For good.”

“I wish you luck, Mr. Wayne.” Amanda Waller reaches out her hand and Bruce shakes it.

You stand there, watching them leave. It's ridiculous, but you feel like your chains are falling off. All the terror, the infinite days and neverending nights in that hell are over. You still don't like thinking about it, and remembering is painful, but you're glad that's what it is now: a memory. A distant, faded memory. Some scars will accompany you for the rest of your life, even though Bruce has you under some esthetic treatments to get rid of most of them. But you're ok with that, with the ones that will stick around. They'll be a different kind of badge now, a prove that you crawled out of that nightmare, and despite needing a little push, you did some of the work too.

“Why are you crying, my love?” Bruce asks when he comes back, but you haven't noticed the tears rolling down.

“It's nothing, I just... I'm happy. Truly, wholeheartedly happy, I...” He pulls you into his arms, holding you tight. “I love you so damn much, Bruce, but... I guess I love me too. Who I am now, who I want to become.”

“Whatever happens now, (Y/N), it's up to us. To you. You can make your own decisions, and I'll be here to support you.”

“I know, babe.” Pulling away, you jump up, wrapping your legs around his waist. “Life starts now, and... I want you in it.”

“Me too, sweetheart. That's why I had no trouble sighing that contract.” His eyes get darker, and you furrow your eyebrows.

“What is it, Bruce?” He's dead serious, bouncing you up to have a better grip.

“Marry me.”

Your heart stops, as the answer slides down your tongue. Enough with the nightmares. This life is way better than any dream you couldbever have.

@fionanovasleftnut @glitterypinkkitty @mybabyboytony @chipster-21 @agustdpeach @yaakimoon2 @chloe-skywalker @rosalynshields

#bruce imagine #imagine bruce #bruce x reader #bruce wayne fanfiction #bruce wayne x reader #bruve wayne x y/n #bruce wayne imagine #imagine bruce wayne #ben affleck batman #batman imagine #imagine batman #batman x reader #batman fanfiction #justice league imagine

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jaydicksummerexchange · 4 years ago

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JAYDICK EXCHANGE: SEPTEMBER 3

[ ❤ Works posted so far! ❤ ]

SECOND TO LAST DAY OF THE JAYDICK EXCHANGE!

Why the second to last instead of the last? That’s because we’ve reached 114 Exchange works for 2020! The more treats get added, the more we time we add to our juicy cabooses and keep the exchange train rolling. Until Saturday that is. Tomorrow is the final posting date, and we’ll reveal the wonderful participants on September 5 no matter what.

Here are today’s releases!

Claws by anonymous for solomonara [ART, Not Rated, No Archive Warnings Apply, Dick Grayson/ Jason Todd]

Additional Tags: FanartHurt/Comfort, Injured Jason, Secret Identity, dick's teams don't know the red hood's identity, dick's harem of morally ambiguous older men, dick: he's not older, dick: wait i mean he's not my villain boyfriend, dick: damn it

Summary: Dick takes the Red Hood to a Titan safehouse after an injury. Explanations are expected.

Learning To Love The Fall by anonymous for 3isme [ART, Teen, No Warnings Apply, JayDick]

Additional Tags: Fanart, Alternate Universe - 1920s, Mechanic Jason Todd, Plane Pilot Dick Grayson

Summary: It's the early 1900s and the country of Gotham is recovering from a long war.

Trying to get a better life, Jason Todd has been moonlighting as an underground plane mechanic for illegal aeroplane racers, getting a cut of whatever the pilot wins. After one particular competition, he's accused of sabotage and, despite his protests, forced into deeper debt. At the end of his rope, he runs into Dick Grayson, ex-ace of the Gotham Air Force and supposed dead man. The war hero was supposed to have been shot down near the end of the war. Regardless, this pilot is the best chance Jason has to grab hold of that better life, and he's not going to let it go.

The Still and Quiet Surface by anonymous for TheWayneManner [FIC, General Audiences, No Warnings Apply, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd]

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Merpeople, Gift Fic, Ficlet

Summary: Dick leaves the sea behind and never looks back.

Scents & Sensibility by anonymous for Nitrojen [FIC, Explicit, No Warnings, JayDick]

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Regency, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Fae, References to Jane Austen, although the writer has a pretty dark secret concerning our dear friend jane, Getting to Know Each Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

Summary: Prompt - Something along the lines of the Princess and the Pea. It can be A/B/O, modern, fantasy, or even something that takes place in canon where there's some kind of curse. Have fun with it!

Give It A Shot (of espresso) by anonymous for morimaiter [FIC, Teen, No Warnings, Dick Grayson/ Jason Todd]

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Hurt/Comfort, Barista Jason Todd, Flirting, Awkward Flirting, Sexual Tension, JayDick Summer Exchange, very minor injury, art included

Summary: Dick was one of their regulars. And yes, that was his real name. The first time he’d asked Jason to write it on his cup Jason had given him a death glare until the man had whipped out a driver’s license to prove it. ‘Richard John Grayson’, printed right there. It hadn’t been an innuendo after all, just an unfortunate choice of nickname. He came into Gotham Grinders (and hell if Jason hadn’t heard enough innuendos about that name to make up for any lack of innuendo in Dick’s own) every Tuesday and Friday, which happened to always be Jason’s shifts. Every time he asks for some new over-the-top order, and every time without fail he also asks for Jason’s digits. Jason replies every time with:

“I’m sorry sir, we can’t give out personal information to customers. Will that complete your order?”

(Fic + Art)

Lazy Days by anonymous for BehindTheRobinsMask [ART, Teen, No Warnings, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd]

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Married Life, Married Couple, Established Dick Grayson/Jason Todd, Literal Sleeping Together, Lazy Mornings, Domestic Fluff, Fanart

Summary: It's the weekend! Jason and Dick sleep in after a long night on the streets.

Taken in the Butt by the Gay Vigilante Acro-Bird by anonymous for solomonara [ART, Teen, No Warnings, JayDick]

Additional Tags: Romance Novel, Cover Art, Jason Todd is an Author, Partial Nudity, Birds, Vintage Gay Pulp Novels, Chuck Tingle-Adjacent, Please Forgive me, FanartDigital Art, JayDick Summer Exchange

Summary: The Red Hood has a secret: he's a part-time romance novelist.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, business, events and incidents are the products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Between The Devil And The Deep Blue Sea by anonymous for stribird (timidGoddess) [FIC, Mature, No Warnings Apply, Dick Grayson/ Jason Todd]

Additional Tags: Heavy Angst, Self-Doubt, Lazarus Pit, Panic Attacks, Established Relationship, Bad Decisions, Romantic Fluff, Amnesia, Broken Promises, Road Trips, On the Run

Summary: Jason couldn’t do that. He could never forget what Dick meant to him. Which is why he had to bring his Bluebird back. Which is why he had to remind Dick of everything that he had lost.

Even if that meant forcing him into the Lazarus Pit. Even if it meant cursing him in the process.

tell your boyfriend, if he says he's got beef, that i'm a vegetarian (and i ain't fucking scared of him) by anonymous for prompt_fills [Mature, No Warnings Apply, Dick Grayson/ Jason Todd]

Additional Tags: Fluff and Humor, Crack Treated Seriously, Damian Wayne is a Little Shit, Protective Damian Wayne, POV Damian Wayne, Batman: Reborn, Jason Todd has a Heart, Damian Wayne Has a Heart, Dick Grayson is Damian Wayne’s Parent, Dick Grayson is Batman, Mutual Pining, enemies to idiots to lovers, Misunderstandings, Damian Wayne Plays Therapist, Jason Todd is Bad at Feelings, Dick Grayson is Bad at Feelings, My Continued Mocking of Tim Drake (it's loving i swear), Donna Troy is a goddess and no one deserves her, My love for Donna Troy is so strong that I projected it onto Damian and I am not sorry, Unbetaed we die like Jason Todd refuses to, Past Dick Grayson/Slade Wilson, Jealous Jason Todd, Pining Dick Grayson, BAMF Donna Troy AND MORE

Summary: It had taken a few weeks for Damian’s ill-fated hopes for the more platonic explanation of Grayson’s unseemly conduct regarding Todd to expire because Damian (unlike Drake) is not an idiot (and Brown had prattled on about every instance of very clearly not platonically fueled tension, slowly crushing Damian’s remaining hopes for Richard’s taste in romantic partners). Denial, heavenly as he has now known it to be, can only take one so far. And as a pragmatist and the grandson of the great Ra’s al Ghul and son of the great Bruce Wayne, he assesses the situation from a logical perspective, free of any emotions clouding his impeccable judgment, and comes up with a solution that benefits both himself and Grayson.

Jason Todd must die.

Or the story of how Damian Wayne became the number one shipper of JayDick and is not at all happy about it.

Si solo fueras tú by anonymous for fallogory [ART, Gen, Creator Chose No Warnings, Dick Grayson/Jason Todd]

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Fanart, Kid Dick Grayson, Adult Dick Grayson, Kid Jason Todd, Adult Jason Todd, King Bruce Wayne, Prince Damian Wayne, Prince Dick Grayson, Poor Jason Todd, Hurt Dick Grayson, Jealous Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug

Summary: Blue came first

Then Green arrives

Then Blue meet Red

And Green hate that

Or where Dick was Bruce's bastard child who was forced to lived like a prince until Damian's born and meet someone who make his world be upside down.

the smell of cold stone by anonymous for abcission [FIC, Mature, No Warnings Apply, Dick Grayson/ Jason Todd]

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, Bisexual Dick Grayson, Autumn, American Football, College Football, Blow Jobs, First Time Blow Jobs, Getting to Know Each Other, Getting Together, referenced Jason/Kyle, Past Dick Grayson/Koriand'r, Past Dick Grayson/Roy Harper, past dick grayson/wally west - Freeform, implied Roy/Kory, implied Roy/Wally, implied Donna/Kyle, future besties Jason and Roy, Roy's eternal crush on Donna, frat boy Dick, Fluff

Summary: Their eyes meet on the quad one day; he’ll probably never see the frat boy again, but he’ll be nice fodder for Jason’s dreams at least.

#2020 jaydick exchange #dcu fanfic #jaydick summertime blues.#jaydick #dickjay #dick grayson & jason todd

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krispydefendorpolice · 5 years ago

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The Demon’s Bride (7)

So Here’s the next chapter of Demon’s Bride. I’m gonna try to finish my ficlet the Miraculous Awakens and add an update to Miraculous Future before doing another Demon’s Bride update.

I’m also trying a new method of taglist. I love that people enjoy my story and want to be tagged but the list got really long really fast. (I think by the time I had the third chapter/first ficlet out it was a full list). Unfortunately this meant a lot of the readers who had longer comments about things they enjoyed or questions in the story (things that keep me motivated to write!) wouldn’t get a tag. So I’m redoing the taglist. Some will keep changing because except for a select few that got me started in the cursed Daminette ship (god I love you people) everyone is gonna be kind of flexible. Meaning your name might get bumped in the next update.

I do try to tag these stories with (The Demon’s Bride) and (The Betrothed AU) let me know if there’s another tag I can add to make finding them easier. Believe me I know the struggle of trying to find out if a writer has updated.

One person suggested I cross post on AO3 and since I finally got an account let me know what you think. Not just would you read it but would this story be something you would download to save a copy? I do that with all my favorite works on that site and would consider it to be the biggest of compliments.

Okay, thank you all for enjoying this story. Thank you for being patient while I work out my own tag list system. Enjoy the next chapter

Beginning Previous Next Masterpost

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The next morning the class ate breakfast in the hotel breakfast lounge. It was large enough that they could break into their two groups but not so large that Marinette’s group could ‘accidentally’ get left behind.

Marinette rolled her eyes as she listened to Lila continuing her stories from the day before about meeting the youngest Wayne and how ‘It was love at first sight’.

“Damian is just such a sweetheart. It nearly broke my heart to have to put our relationship on hold when mama got her assignment in Paris. But I am happy she did as I got to meet all of you. And now I have a chance to see my Damian again.”

Lila smiled slyly as she leaned closer to her slaves, “In fact, we have plans to see each other tonight. He’s going to take me on a romantic dinner date. If you can keep it a secret from Ms Bustier I’d be ever so grateful. I don’t think she’d like it if I did something by myself but I’ll just never have a chance like this again.”

Marinette had a feeling she’d strain a muscle at some point before the end of the trip, either from rolling her eyes too hard or from fighting back the urge to roll her eyes. She’d have to somehow arrange for Lila to be supervised if she actually made it out of the hotel and more than likely that duty would fall on her as her usual alternatives were in Paris.

A glance at Juleka showed that the girl was already anticipating Marinette’s thoughts and would be taking on the supervising (stalking, call it what it is) duty for Marinette. Fortunately, continued training and practice during Akuma attacks had refreshed skills instilled by the league to readiness in both girls.

“No worries girl. We got your back, unlike some people,” Alya said with a pointed glance at Marinette. Alya had blamed Marinette when her relationship with Nino fell apart and once Marinette had stopped responding to her phone messages Alya had made it her personal mission to blame the worlds evils upon Marinette.

Marinette ignored them and kept typing on her phone.

“You guys are so trustworthy. I don’t know what I’d do without you guys,” Lila smiled at them.

“Class finish up your meals we need to meet the bus outside in five minutes for us to head to the mall,” Ms Bustier called.

“Hey Nino, I forgot a jacket up in my room. I’ll catch you at the bus,” Marinette said nonchalantly as they cleaned up their dishes.

“You’re planning something,” he stated. A raised brow dared her to deny it.

“Not at all. Just have Markov do a recording would you?”

“Sure, sure. But you’re reporting this, not me.”

“Done,” Marinette agreed as she headed back to the elevators. On the ride up she pulled out her phone and sent a quick text.

M: Meet me outside the hotel? I might need a ride.

D: Why? Are you safe?

M: I’m fine right now. But if things play out like they usually do I’m gonna need a ride

D: got it

Grabbing the bike jacket she’d left on her bed Marinette hurried outside the hotel. The bus’s engine was just starting to rev when she called out.

“Wait. I’m here,” she called and ran towards the bus.

It slowed for a moment before picking up speed and taking off. Marinette watched as it drove off and shook her head. She pulled out her phone and dialed a number.

“Bonjour Commandant,” she said cheerily before he did more than greet her.

He sighed, “What happened?”

“I might of made a stop in my hotel room this morning to get my jacket before meeting the rest of the class at the bus.”

“And you were left behind again?”

“I was left behind again,” she confirmed. “I was nearly at the bus and called out for them to wait. It started to slow but then took off again. There were open windows and Nino should have Max and Markov making another recording.”

“I’ll wait for the files. You know we’re going to have to report this when you return to Paris.”

“Absolutely. This is getting ridiculous and entirely too unprofessional of Ms. Boustier. If it were any other person getting left behind they could end up killed here in Gotham.”

“Do you need us to arrange transportation?”

“No thank you, I already did,” Marinette turned to look at the motorcycles that stopped next to her at the curb.

Damian lifted the visor on his helmet and looked at her. She smiled at him and finished her call.

She looked at the second bike and rider and back at Damian.

Damian held out a second helmet to her and explained. “My father and brother’s aren’t entirely comfortable with me being alone and unsupervised with someone from the League. Todd volunteered to chaperone today.”

Marinette took the helmet and sat on the back of his bike. “Had many run-ins with Leaguer’s?”

“Too many,” Damian admitted. As soon as Marinette wrapped her arms around his waist and told him the class’s destination he took off.

Marinette smiled as she sat behind him on the bike and let herself fall into old patterns of trusting him to get them where they needed to go. Within minutes they pulled up alongside the bus. Marinette grinned as she asked him to rev the engine and get the class’s attention.

When several faces turned to the window Marinette lifted her visor and waved at the class. Just as she was laughing at their shocked faces the lights changed and Damian took off again with her laughter trailing behind them.

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Jason followed behind Damian and watched as Demon Spawn pulled up next to the bus before the girl waved at the class whose attention they had gotten. When Damian took off again he had to watch as the two moved together as they wove through traffic. What surprised Jason more was Damian never turned to check the cars behind him. Instead he watched as the girl would do checks and then Damian would move. Damian trusted her to watch their backs.

They seemed to have a system down and had seemlessly fallen back into it. Like they had ridden together before? But they couldn’t have. Damian came to Bruce at 10 years old. The girl had to be about the same age so how...?

Jason let the thought go as they pulled up to Gotham Mall. Damian parked near the main entrance the class would have to go through after parking the bike and let Marinette off first. He and Jason followed suit before locking their bikes and the helmets up and waited for the class to catch up.

“So Pixie-pop, you know Demon Spawn from the League?”

Most people would say Jason didn’t know how to use tact but most people were also idiots. Sometimes when you did things blatantly and unexpectedly you would get more honest answers from others.

Marinette glanced at Damian and then turned to Jason when he nodded. “I’ve known Damian most of my life in the League.”

Jason looked at her. The answer was factual but there was undertone of meanings behind it that he was missing.

“He mentioned the League was divided into factions? Divisions?” He fumbled his question and waited to see how she would respond.

Marinette turned to Damian and spoke in a language he didn’t know. It wasn’t English, French, Japanese or Chinese which he’d learned from Bruce and Alfred before his death. Nor was it Arabic, Russian, or German, which Talia had forced him to learn after his resurrection. The closest he could compare it to was Chinese but it had a different cadence, intonations, sounds, everything really so it was completely not understandable to him.

When Damian responded in the same language Jason was less shocked. He just waited for the two of them to finish.

Marinette nodded before turning back to Jason, “The word you were looking for was designations and yes Damian and I both had one. Most trainees are given one by the end of the first year of training though it can be changed if a particular aptitude is discovered. Or if they lose enough standing with the League.”

Her eyes were a little darker, a little sadder at the mention of losing rank within the League.

“Ah,” Jason nodded and looked at Damian, “you didn’t mention you had a designation last night.”

“TT, I didn’t think to mention it last night. My designation was the Demon’s Right Hand. The heir of the Demon.”

“Makes sense since you were Ras grandson,” Jason admitted.

Marinette snorted, “the old Demon had at least five grandchildren, though no one’s sure if his son had any children so there could be more out there. And Damian was the third born. Nothing the Demon ever did made sense.”

Jason was startled. No one knew that Damian had other siblings, blood-siblings, since he’d made it sound like his trainee group were like his only brothers and sisters.

“Grandfather insisted that only the best could succeed him. Even from my early trainee days my brother’s knew I could take their inheritance from them if I was better than they were. Our rivalry,” and boy was that a loaded idea, “was actively encouraged and the only way it could end was with the deaths of our competition.” Damian grimaced at that.

“Hey, Ali wasn’t so bad. He loved his big brother.” Marinette bumped Damian’s shoulder, trying to distract him.

“Ali loved his big sister,” Damian tapped a finger on Marinette’s nose, “who got her mother to take in the kid when he began his training and gave him family. Just like his big brother.”

Marinette smiled fondly. “He’s a good kid. Did you know Talia has him doing some PR as they’re ‘rebranding’ the League? I think the American, Luthor, has done that a few times.”

Damian quirked a brow.

“He’s shown up in Paris a time or two. Mostly as PR attempts to promote ‘acts of charity’ or such. My class actually ran into him a few years ago. He made a friend with one of the girls in my class. We pass messages through her when we can,” Marinette nodded to herself, “but it’s been harder to do with the tension between my classmates.”

Before Jason could ask anymore questions the bus with her classmates in it pulled into the Mall parking lot. Strangely another car seemed to be following behind it.

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Cliffhanger!!!!

Permanent tags: @mindfulmagics @ozmav @bluerosette23 @multifandomscribette @mochinek0 @northernbluetongue

@fertileleaf @evil-elf16 @scribblinggraveyard @mellownieice @mystery-5-5 @indecisive-mess-named-me @sonif50 @tog84 @g-arya @legendaryneckjudgestudent @tbehartoo @ravennightingaleandavatempus @zebrabaker @autisticlinx @moonyloonyx @hinata3487 @evil-elf16 @mooshoon @shamefullove @pepelachanel @queenmj10 @bluefyoto94 @valeks-princess @luciferge @novicevoice @vivilakitty @2sunchild2 @littleredrobinhoodlum @black-streak @interobanginyourmom @crazylittlemunchkin @alwaysnumberonetruth @nataladriana9 @that-feeling-wyn @motherly-type @jardimazul @mysteriouslyswimmingfan-blo-blog @peachedpocky @thesunanditsangel @daminett4life @risingmoonyue @dorkus-minimus @tired-butterfly @alenee13

Can’t find a blog: @fusser90

Okay, tag list capped out as I was scrolling back through comments on ch. 5 but the taglist is flexible anyways at this point. I have plans to update the Miraculous Awakens prologue and the Miraculous Future chapters this week. Please vote which you would like to see first. I’m hoping to get the first update posted either Wednesday or Thursday nights. (Though sadly I am suuuuuper flexible with my posting schedule. Basically I post whenever I have a chapter ready). Also i plan to wind up the Once Upon A Miraculous epilogue next weekend so that’s three chapters I’ll need to be toying with this week.

#The Demon’s Bride #Betrothed AU #daminette #maribat #marinette x damian #DLDR #dead dove don’t eat

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awkwardbluefish · 5 years ago

Text

Under The Broken Boy

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Summary: Alfred confronts Jason the night he tries to kill the Joker. Bruce won’t be happy but when is he ever.

Warning: Death angst

A/n - saw this on a tumblr post by @batkidsaremadkids and I had to write! Also I’m tagging @geminibabyhere cause I know they wanted someone to read it. Also I haven’t seen this in a while so somethings may be eh

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Bruce Wayne was nothing more than an utter fool in Alfreds eyes.

His son, Jason, was alive and yet Bruce was nothing more than disappointed and disturbed mixed with a desperate happiness attacking his heart.

Alfred couldn’t blame him for the happiness and shock. His heart had stopped in his chest as the silverware slipped past his gloves as he saw the recording and heard that achingly familiar voice. That was Jason Todd, helmet or no helmet. That was his grandson.

And yet, after their confrontation, Bruce was no longer happy. Disturbed and disappointed. Jason has killed people, a lot of people. Maybe Alfred wasn’t exactly please with that but he was a man born and bred in a war. He knew sometimes you had to take a life. And those people? They truly where scum.

“Alfred, do you have the locations?” Batman’s voice is low, lower than normal. More tired then normal.

Bruce will be mad but he doesn’t understand. Jason woke up in a world where the Joker was still alive. A man who was crazed and killed millions for fun. Alfred wasn’t one to take pleasure in killing, and anyone who did was sick. But he understood this time more than any of the others.

“At the warehouse on 28th Patrick Avenue, sir.” Alfred replies simply and Batman’s lips go that bit tighter.

The cape ripples in the air as he turns, boots silent on the stone as he heads to the platform holding that death machine of a vehicle.

“Just like them,” Alfred resists throwing a batarang at the mans head and scowls as the engine roars and the wheels squeal as the car speeds out of the cave.

He lets out a sigh and heads up the stairs. It’s quiet without Master Richard and Timothy. Timothy was with the Titans and Alfred knew the boy would just be so excited to meet his hero, his older brother. He was going to make sure that happened.

“Would you look at you?” He murmurs and the reflection of the case showed his wrinkles. “I never thought I’d be using you again.”

Putting the bullet into the gun is nostalgic and oh so familiar. He checks the safety before walking to the car. He’ll use one of Bruce’s undercover ones for these. A limo would be too eye catching after all.

It doesn’t take long to get there. A few minutes really. The worn down apartment is made of brick and he easily shoved the rusted door open. He may be old but that doesn’t mean he isn’t strong.

The hallway is nothing but filth and dust and he shakes his head as he makes the way up the stairs. Jokers muffled giggles are followed by a pained Yelp and Alfred decides to let Jason go for making him go to this filth of a place.

The door is an old wooden one and Alfred raises a brow. No wonder why this old complex is a warehouse now, no security what so ever. That won’t do in a place like Gotham.

He doesn’t bother to knock and the door creaks as he opens it. A bullet shatters some stone from the brick near his head and he raises a brow at the boy who had grown quite taller since he had last saw him.

Jason is shaking ever so slightly. His shoulders tense and fingers tightening around the gun as he takes Alfred in.

Now Alfred knows Jason could’ve easily killed him. But he didn’t. That shot was a warning, a warning that this man knew how to use it and wouldn’t hesitate if needed. The boy was too young to be acting like a soldier.

“Jason,” Alfred greets, tilting his head. He wanted nothing more than to wrap the boy in his arms and refuse to let go but he wouldn’t. Not yet at least. And especially not when that clown was giggling at him with wide eyes.

“Oh~ is that your name Red? Or should I say you stinking little their?! Jason? How cute- can!” The barrel slams into the side of his head and Alfred nods appreciating the second of silence.

“Why are you here?” His grandson snaps, voice low and robotic. Alfred isn’t even offended. “To talk me out of it?!”

He shakes his head, eyeing Joker with distaste as he steps forward. Glass crunches under his feet as he takes another one, he knows Jason won’t hurt him.

“Not at all,” he says simply and Jason’s shoulders freeze before a scowl covers his lips.

“Of course you are! You work for him!” He spots and Alfred let’s him have his well deserved tantrum. “After everything this freak has done, after everyone he’s killed he’s still alive! He didn’t do anything, not when he even killed me, his own son!”

Alfred watches as he huffs, cheeks flush red in anger and from his small speech. “I know, it isn’t right. I’m a man from war, if anyone knows that it’s me.”

Jason freezes at that and the Joker lets out a laugh, shattering the silence. “A man of war you say?! What an interesting story?! Do tell me, how many of your friends did you fail and watch die?”

“Too many,” Alfred says simply as Jason knees him in the stomach. Joker wheezes out a laugh as blood smears his mouth. “But I don’t dwell on the past when there’s nothing to be done.”

Eyes snap up to his and Alfred sends him a strong look. Telling him that this message was for him, not the piece of filth grinning ear from ear. “I believed it was my fault for a long time, I still do. But going around and hunting down the people who did it won’t bring anything back.”

Jason blinks rapidly and Alfred smiles softly at the broken man. The gun drags down Jokers cheek, smearing the blood before it drops numbly to his side.

“He didn’t- he- why didn’t he do anything?” It’s croaked and mumbles out but Alfred hears every broken word.

He shakes his head. “You can ask him that yourself.” He says softly, pushing gently with his words.

Jason doesn’t move for a second, staring blankly at the cracked floor before nodding slowly. The gun clatters against stone as he lets it slip from his fingertips.

That’s when Joker looses it. “HAHA you can’t even do it! I took away your like and you can’t take out measly old me?! You’re missing an opportunity here!”

Jason freezes just by Alfred side. Alfred pats his shoulder, un-clicks the safety of the gun and fires.

“If you had used those bloody ears to listen, you would’ve understood. I said when there’s nothing to be done. This was something that was overdue to be done.” Alfred tells the corpse, huffing and pocketing the gun.

Jason stares at him wide eyed as he leads the shocked boy down to the vehicle. “Y-you? Why?”

“There’s one thing you got wrong in your speech,” Alfred tells him simply. “I am under orders of no one. I do what I want. Now come along, there’s two brothers and three sisters just dying to see you again.”

Jason laughs then, quiet and shocked as he’s man handled into the front seat. “Bad choice of words Alfie- wait brothers and sisters?! As in plural?!”

Alfred just smiles and shuts the door in his face. It was good to have him back.

#alfred pennyworth #jason todd #red hood #joker #dc #bruce wayne #batman #tw death #mine #my writing

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