#Jason knows exactly what he’s doing and he’s gonna be a better dad than bruce AND Vlad combined just to rub it in their faces | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ragingbookdragon · 4 years ago

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If We Were Fast Enough

Flash!Reader x Flashfamily One-Shot

Word Count: 5.3K Warnings: Explicit Language, Angst

Author's Note: I had this idea after watching a few clips of Flashpoint Paradox! Enjoy! -Thorne

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Her hand was tightly clasped in his, eyes narrowed in sadness, but there was a pride in them; she felt the speed transfer between them, flowing through her veins and he said, “You’ve got my speed, honey. It’s up to you now.”

The tears that had welled in her vision tipped over and she whispered, “I can’t leave you here, dad. I—I can’t just run away.”

He shook his head. “You’re not running away. You’re surviving.” A groan escaped him, and the pool of blood seemed to double in size. “We’re running out of time. You’ve gotta go before the timeline collapses.”

“Where do I go?” she asked, wiping her eyes. “This universe is home.”

“Honey, Speedsters are Speedsters whichever universe we’re in.” he smiled weakly at her. “You’ll have a family wherever you end up.”

She gazed at him, breathing deeply as fresh tears grew in her gaze. “I’m scared.”

“I know. But you can do this.” he replied, pausing to look her over. “You look just like your mother, honey.” He smiled tearfully. “She’d be so proud of you if she were here now.”

Pulling the cowl over her head, she gave a watery laugh. “Mom always said I looked like you.”

“Nah. You take your speed and nature after me, but you are a spitting image of your mother.” A blast sounded in the distance and they both looked over, eyes widening as the white flash of light grew larger and larger. “You have to go. Now.”

Swallowing thickly, she leaned down and hugged him around his neck as tight as she could, inhaling the scent of ozone and spearmint for the last time. “I love you, dad. I love you so much.” Her fingers dug into his ruined suit as she cried. “I love you.”

He caressed the back of her cowled head. “I love you more, honey.” Pulling away, he leveled her with a firm look. “Now run, Lightning Flash. Run.”

The bluish-white lightning flowed across her body, and she turned, letting her feet carry her across the war-torn field, escaping the atomic blast. The world melted around her, a blur of memories surrounding her: her birthdays, her parents’ faces, her first stroke as a Flash, the start of the war, the deaths of her friends and family, everything up until now.

She was helpless to stop the tears that flowed down her cheeks, the feeling of her heart pounding in her chest, and the booming in her ears as she ripped through the waves of time and the boundaries of space.

A shriek sounded behind her, and she turned her head, eyes widening. “Ah shit!”

The time wraith screamed at her again, reaching out to grab her and she just barely dodged it, turning back to face the flowing warp. She was close. All she had to do was get to the next time boundary and she could lose the wraith.

“Almost there!” she told herself as another bellowed sounded in her ears again, and with one final leap, she burst through the barrier, the waves collapsing around her. The shock of the blast sent her skidding along the ground, and she cried out as she rolled.

Shouts sounded in her ears, humans, but she was more concerned about the screaming time wraith. “I just lost everything! Can’t you just leave me the hell alone!” It shrieked at her again, advancing and anger welled through her as she pushed herself to her feet and she growled, “You wanna dance, you sonovabitch? Then let’s dance.”

Her eyes lit up in a white force and she darted past the wraith, hitting a point above it, then she darted past again, and again and again in a star formation, over and over until all that could be seen was a blur of blue and white. The clouds rumbled above, swirling faster and faster and she hit the top of the star, coming down at the wraith. A burst of lightning cracked from the sky, striking the time being just as she collided with it, and in a hail of blue and white strikes, the wraith exploded into smoking fragments.

As the smoke cleared, the human voices grew louder, but she was sprawled out on the ground, breathing heavily, her body crying under the strain. Someone placed their hand on her shoulder, worrying, “Are you alright?”

She nodded weakly. “Yeah…just gimme a minute. The five-star lightning strike always takes a lot outta me.” Shutting her eyes, she focused on breathing deeply.

“I’ve never seen anyone destroy a time wraith before.”

“It takes practice.” Craning her neck, she opened her eyes, and bit back a sob as the man’s face cleared before hers. “You’re this world’s Flash, aren’t you?” she whispered, “Barry Allen.” His blue eyes widened, and he nodded mutely. “I figured.”

“Who are you?” he asked. “What world did you come from?”

She shook her head. “Doesn’t matter. It’s gone now.” Meeting his gaze once more, she added, “But you can call me the Lightning Flash.”

“What’s your real name?” Barry quizzed.

(Y/N) Allen. And I’d tell you that but all it’d do is bring hurt to both of us.

“(Y/N) Sloan.” She laid her head down, closing her eyes. “I’m gonna take a nap for a while…I’m really…tired…”

His voice called out to her, but all she heard was a warbling noise as she drifted into darkness.

***

When she came to, her head felt like someone had thrown an overripe melon off a balcony ledge and watched it splatter across the ground. She groaned and forced her eyes to open, pushing herself up on her palms.

“Woah, woah, woah!” someone worried. “Take it easy there, Flashy.”

(Y/N) looked over, seeing a familiar green symbol, and an ever more familiar unmasked face. “I’m fine, Hal.”

He blinked. “You know who I am?”

“Please, I’d know that big head of yours from a mile away.” Smirking, she added, “I know everyone in the Justice League.” She grunted, pulling her left arm over her chest, feeling the taut muscles in her back ripple as she stretched them out. “Where am I?”

“The Watchtower.” Hal gazed at her curiously. “Man, when Barry said you knew who he was, I didn’t think he meant you knew all of us.”

“You sound upset that you didn’t get to introduce yourself,” she shot back with a pained grin, stretching her other arm. “If it makes you feel any better, I’ll forget I know you, and you can reintroduce yourself.”

He chuckled and pressed a button on the side of the med bay bed. “Nah, no point now.” He looked down at the small light flashing. “Hey, she’s awake.”

In an instant, a sharp wind blew across the room and there stood the scarlet speedster without his cowl; moments later, the doors opened and in walked the top League members, Superman, Wonder Woman, and Batman.

(Y/N) threw her legs over the side of the bed as they walked over, waving off Barry and Hal who both reached for her, and stood on shaky legs. “Shit, I feel like a newly born giraffe.”

“You shouldn’t be up.” Barry frowned. “You practically tore yourself apart at the molecular level.”

“It was that or be taken by a time wraith,” she shot back, cracking her neck. “How long have I been out?”

“Eighty-six hours,” Batman said, taking her chin in his hand, tipping her head side to side as he shown a light in her eyes. “Your body’s been recovering slower than it should for a Flash.”

(Y/N) blinked. “The particular move does like Barry said it did. It tears the body at the molecular level to contain the speed force into one location.”

“It was dangerous,” Barry scowled, and she couldn’t help but laugh at this younger version of her father who was still just as serious.

“Being a Flash is dangerous.” She felt Batman pull away and she flexed her fingers. “I don’t use the move unless it’s a life-or-death situation.” Glancing at Barry, she questioned, “What earth is this?”

Before he could speak, Batman denounced, “You time jumped, and you don’t know what earth you came into?”

“I didn’t exactly have time to think out a plan while a nuclear blast was going off, Bruce,” she growled, glaring at him from behind the neon blue mask. “And to top it off, I had a time wraith coming after me. I wasn’t in a position to choose which earth I wanted.”

He went silent, gazing at her intently. “Whose names do you know of the Justice League here?”

(Y/N) looked around at the superheroes before her. “You’re all the same Justice League as my earth, but in mine, you’re retired, and your children run the show.”

“I’m sorry, children?” Hal interrupted. “We have—we have children?”

“Some,” she laughed. “Conner Kent is our Superman, Donna Troy is our Wonder Woman, Jason Todd is our Batman, Kyle Rayner is our Green Lantern, and Roy Harper is our Green Arrow.”

“And you?” Superman questioned.

“I’m my Justice League’s Flash. The Lightning Flash.” (Y/N) smiled wearily. “The fastest woman alive.” She toyed with the blue and white gauntlet. “At least now I am.”

“You said you were our kids?” Hal said. “Are you Barry’s daughter?”

The two Speedsters looked at each other and she answered calmly, “No. My transformation into the Flash was a freak accident, much like Wally West’s. That being said, I’m not related to the Flashfamily by blood.”

“Hmm.” Batman grunted, then turned, wandering off. “You need to rest up more then we’ll run tests.”

“Only if she consents.” Barry called out.

Bruce stopped, not even bothering to look over his shoulder as he retorted, “She’s a Speedster from another universe. We need more information before we can let her loose in anyone’s city.”

As he wandered off, she placed her hands on her hips and griped, “God, I miss Jason being Batman. He’s less of a jerk-off about new things.”

Superman chuckled, resting a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t take it the wrong way…(Y/N), was it?”

She nodded. “Yeah, (Y/N) Sloan.” Sticking her hand out, she added, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Pleasure’s all mine,” he murmured, shaking her hand strongly, then he pulled away. “He is right though. You should get some more rest before you wander around the Watchtower.”

She waved it off. “I’ll be alright. If you’ve got a treadmill designed for Speedsters though, I’d like to run a bit.”

“I’ll show you where it is,” Barry answered, leading her from the group. As they walked down the hallway, she paused, leaning against the wall as a wave of nausea came over her; he caught it instantly. “Are you okay?” he frowned. “We should go back to the med bay.”

“No.” she grunted. “I’m fine. Just…just gimme a moment.” Shaking it off, she squared her shoulders. “I absorbed speed from the remaining Speedsters on my world before I left. It’s just taking a toll on me.”

“Why absorb their speed?” he asked, and she could tell from his voice that there was a level of suspicion in it.

“Because it was the only way to keep it from being stolen by our enemies as we were being slaughtered.” (Y/N) looked down the hall. “We can go now. It’s passed.” She bypassed him, wandering down the hallway, though she kept a hand on the railing the entire time.

***

It wasn’t a surprise that they sent her back to Central City with Barry after the few tests she’d let them run. Only tests on the outside, no blood or DNA samples for them to investigate. Barry’s apartment was cramped and there wasn’t room for them both to be in the kitchen, but she’d lived there before, so ducking under his arms and turning around him was second nature.

And Barry, bless the kindhearted soul he was, tried at every opportunity to make her comfortable in the home. (Y/N) respected it, knowing that even worlds apart, Barry Allen was still Barry Allen. She watched him sometimes. When he was sitting on the sofa or at the bar, flipping through paperwork or reading a book on physics. He always lost track of time, forgot what was happening around him, but his face showed ease. Peace. Like the world wasn’t on his shoulders.

It made her miss her father. It made her miss her family and friends. Her world. (Y/N) cried at night on the couch, silent tears dripping down her cheeks as she remembered every last moment of her family and friends’ lives. She’d been lucky in the end to come out unscathed. But her father, his friends, her friends, all dead. All killed in a pointless war that ended with the entire world blown to hell—and she was the only one left.

She sat beside the window, gazing down at the quiet street below her; she felt like crying, but by now, she’d cried out every tear, and all that remained was the hole drilled in her chest, empty and aching.

“(Y/N)?” Glancing over, she saw Barry coming out from his bedroom, brows furrowing at her. “Are you okay?”

Shrugging, she looked back out the window. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be okay again, Barry.” It was hard to not call him ‘dad’ all the time, and weird to call him ‘Barry’.

She felt him sit opposite of her on the little bench. “Can I help you anyway?”

It took a while for her to speak, but when she did, her voice was barely above a whisper. “It’s all gone. My life. All of it. I’m the only one left from my world.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I’m…alone.” His hand rested on hers and she felt tears well in her gaze. “I miss my family…and I miss my friends.”

She shook her head, looking at him. “Why my world? Why us?” tears slipped down her cheeks. “Everything was fine one moment and the next thing any of us knew, the world was going to war, and we couldn’t stop it.” A loathing laugh escaped her. “We were the Justice League. The proteges of the greatest heroes and yet we couldn’t stop war.”

(Y/N) wiped her tears. “We failed. I failed.”

“What happened wasn’t your fault, (Y/N).” Barry murmured. “You know that.”

“It feels like it.” She countered. “What do I have to show for all my saving? A sole survivor stuck in a world that has no need for her.”

His eyes were narrowed in concern, the way her father’s used to do when she’d tell him of her troubles and doubts. “There’s always a need for us. Everyone one of us.”

“Speedsters?” she asked, and he squeezed her hand.

“If the universe wanted you dead, you’d be dead, (Y/N). But you’re here and you’re alive.” He smiled sadly. “You can’t outrun the past. But you can change the direction you’re running in.”

She gazed at him and for once in the past few weeks she’d been there, she felt her heart lighten. “Thank you, Barry.”

He smiled warmly at her and patted her hand. “Since we’re both awake…wanna go for a run?”

(Y/N) chuckled and nodded her head. “Yeah. It’d certainly help burn off the emotions.” She held out her hand and Barry looked at the ring on her finger.

“Wow, your ring is cool.” He took her hand, gazing intently at it. “I noticed your suit isn’t red like most of us Speedsters are. Yours is mainly blue and white.”

She nodded. “It was too complicated to call myself Flash since there were more than one, so I took the name Lightning Flash and designed my suit the colors associate with lighting.” (Y/N) vibrated and reappeared in her suit. “Blue and white.”

“With silver trimming,” he added, poking the mask she wore, and she batted his hand away.

“Hey, gold’s overrated.”

Barry’s face pinched as he vibrated into his suit. “Is not!”

“Is too! It’s the colors for the Seminoles.”

He placed a hand to his chest. “I can’t believe you just told me my colors were FSU’s colors. I’ve been fatally wounded.”

“You’re a drama queen,” (Y/N) laughed then started towards the door. “Race you to Coast City!”

Barry sped after her. “Why Coast City!”

“Because it’s California, man!” she watched as he matched her speed. “And Hal’s apartment always has Doritos!”

“I think you might have a crush on our resident Green Lantern,” Barry teased and (Y/N) gagged.

“Dude, gross.”

“Oh, come on! Don’t tell me you aren’t friends with your Green Lantern!”

“The best, but Kyle and I were only friends! My dalliance fell with another team member!”

“Batman?” he asked, and she nodded.

“Batman.”

“Oh. Lovely.” Barry sighed. “You and Jason Todd seem like a wonderful pair.”

(Y/N) snorted. “Contrary to popular belief, Jason was actually a fantastic Batman. He loved it, oddly enough.”

“That is odd,” the Speedster countered. “Because as far as I know, none of the Batkids want to be Batman.”

She merely laughed in return, passing the Coast City sign.

***

“You know these aren’t…my world folks, right?”

He smiled, watching the group of young adults across the room laugh and joke around. “I know, but the lot of us thought it would be good if you got together with the age group of you own.” Barry looked over. “Besides, I think you’re going to fit right in with this world’s group.”

(Y/N) tipped her head side to side, huffing a laugh as Jason thumped Kyle in the side. “We’ll see.” She let Barry lead her over and the small group perked up at their arrival.

“Hey guys, thanks for coming on such short notice. I know you were busy.”

Jason crossed his arms over his chest. “So, why did the League invite us all?”

Barry gestured to (Y/N). “I’d like everyone to meet (Y/N) Sloan. She’s a Speedster who recently arrived on this earth.”

“Recently?” Roy asked and he nodded.

“There was a…problem on her earth.” He glanced at her and nodded, prompting her to speak.

“My world isn’t in the general stream of timelines anymore.” She smiled awkwardly. “I came here to…survive more or less.” Holding out her hand for one of them to shake, she said, “But it’s a pleasure to meet you all.”

“You know who we are?” Kyle asked as he shook her hand.

“Yeah. This world is surprisingly similar to mine, Kyle.” (Y/N) smiled with a little less awkwardness. “I know all of you.” Her eyes fell on Jason who was watching her closely, teal eyes narrowed in calculation. “Penny for your thoughts?”

He hummed. “Who are we over there?”

At that, all the awkwardness fell away. “You don’t wanna know,” she giggled, and his face dropped.

“No.” she nodded, and he whispered, “Me?”

“You.”

“I’m confused,” Roy interrupted, and Donna snickered.

“I think Jason’s the Batman of (Y/N)’s world.”

“HA!” everyone dissolved into hysterics as Jason proceeded to all but cry.

“I don’t wanna be Batman!” he whined. “Why am I Batman! Why not anyone else!”

(Y/N) laughed. “What are you talking about? You volunteered to be Batman.”

“Jesus, I must’ve lost my mind then,” Jason retorted, then looked at her. “Do I carry guns?”

“Non-lethal rounds.”

“Damnit.” He sulked. “Can’t freakin’ believe I’m the Batman on your world and I willingly put the suit on.”

“You were a good Batman,” she stated. “There wasn’t anyone I trusted more to watch my back on the team.”

He met her gaze, seemingly shocked, though it only lasted a minute as he quizzed, “So if I’m Batman, does that make all of us…?”

(Y/N) nodded. “Yep. Wonder Woman, Superman, Green Arrow, and Green Lantern.”

“And you?” Kyle asked.

“Lightning Flash,” she answered coolly. “The fastest woman alive.” Meeting their gazes, she tipped her head down. “I know you’re not them…but I do hope we can be friends.” She smiled. “You can never have too many of those, no matter what world you’re on.”

Kyle looked over at Barry who was almost crying. “We get to keep her, right? Because if we don’t, I’m going to be very upset.”

(Y/N) snorted and wrapped a loose arm around his waist. “Don’t worry, Kyle. I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.” A growling sounded and her cheeks warmed as she pressed a hand to her stomach. “Sorry about that.”

Jason laughed, getting to his feet. “I guess Speedster stomachs are the same no matter what world you’re on.”

“Isn’t that the truth,” Barry retorted, and the vigilante looked at her.

“Wanna annoy Batman and hang around Gotham City?”

(Y/N) nodded. “Absolutely.”

“Wait for me!” Roy shouted, yanking his legs from the table, and soon the others were following.

Barry watched them as they walked to the Zeta-Tubes, laughing and ribbing one another like they’d been friends since childhood; someone nudged him in the side, murmuring, “She’s gonna be okay.”

He nodded as Hal settled beside him. “Yeah…I know she will.” He smiled as (Y/N) leaned into Jason’s side and brought a hand to her eyes, wiping the tears away. “She’s already fitting in better than I thought.”

“(Y/N)’s a strong woman,” Hal acknowledged. “She acts a lot like you in that aspect.”

“How so?” Barry inquired and the Lantern shrugged.

“Well, you can’t get her to stop attending League meetings no matter what Batman says, and she’s always ready to put herself on the line for us.” Hal huffed a laugh. “And she treats me like I’m an old man. I’m thirty-eight and she acts like I’m fifty-six.” He looked at Barry. “But she flows in the world like you, Barry. Her mannerisms, her styles, her speech, it’s all you.”

The Speedster frowned, quietly stating, “You think she’s my future daughter, don’t you?”

Hal shrugged. “She doesn’t look like you, but she’s comfortable around you. Like she knows she’s safe if you’re there with her.”

“Why lie about it though?” Hal could tell Barry was hurt. “Wouldn’t she want to tell me?”

“If you lost everything and showed up in another world where there was a parent still alive, would you act like nothing changed or would you keep it at arms-length?”

Barry sighed. “You’re…right.” He shook his head. “I didn’t even think of that.” His frown deepened. “She must hate looking at me though. I’m not her dad but I’m another version of him.”

“She doesn’t hate you, Barry.” Hal said, clasping his hand on his best friend’s shoulder. “She’s just…trying to keep it all together and not mix this world with hers.”

“I feel connected with her.” He admitted. “The speed force works funny like that. We can feel other speedsters—we know their speeds and auras.” His voice became soft. “Hers feels like…like…”

“Like?” Hal encouraged and Barry sighed.

“Her aura feels like when I went back in time and saved my mom.” He shook his head. “It’s hard to explain but she feels like—”

“Like family.”

Barry gaped at Hal. “Yeah…that’s exactly it.”

Hal nodded. “She’s still your daughter even worlds apart.”

“What do I say to her?”

“Don’t.” he answered. “Let her come to you about it.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” Barry agreed.

***

The group had dispersed as quickly as it had come together, not that she was overly upset—she knew they all had prior engagements and teams to be apart of, but she would’ve been lying to say that it hadn’t saddened her a bit. Jason and Kyle, however, seemed to be the only ones that were usually around, Jason more than the latter.

(Y/N) liked being around Jason. He was much more hotheaded than she was used to, but she decided that like the Flashes, Jason Todd was Jason Todd no matter what universe he was in.

He was a little more reckless than she knew, playing fast and loose with the game, but he knew where his feet landed with each jump, and he was there when she needed help, her the same.

It hadn’t taken him long to deduce that the two of them were more than friends in her world, making the joke that she was his Catwoman—she’d cried she’d laughed so hard, but it given them time to talk about everything that had happened to her and her world; most importantly, her father.

She watched as Jason reclined against the cool stone of the ledge, passing one of the wrapped cheeseburgers to her. “Thank you,” she murmured, unwrapping it.

“Mhm,” he hummed, sipping his milkshake, setting his hood beside him; he swallowed and looked over. “What’s on your mind?”

(Y/N) blinked. “What are you talking about?” he merely cocked a brow and she sighed. “I forgot you could read people well.”

“Well maybe if you were a book and not a pamphlet, it’d be harder.”

“Did you just call me simple?”

“Never.” He waved it off. “What are you thinking about?”

She sighed again and set her half-eaten burger aside, pulling her knees to her chest as she whispered, “My mom’s maiden name was Sloan.”

Jason arched a brow. “You go by ‘Sloan’. Was your mom married?”

“My parents were. She died from cancer when I was ten.”

“I’m sorry,” he lamented, and she smiled.

“Thank you.” (Y/N) looked over. “My last name is Allen.”

His eyes widened. “As in Barry Allen, Allen?”

“Yeah…my dad.”

Jason blinked. “Holy shit.”

“Mhm.” She propped her chin on her knees. “The reason I’m just as fast as Wally West in this world is because I absorbed my dad’s speed before I left mine.” (Y/N) gazed at the city. “And then I left him to die in the blast.”

“You know that wasn’t your fault.”

She huffed. “So Barry’s told me.”

Jason stared at her. “Why do you live with him in Central City?”

“Because I don’t have anywhere else to go,” she answered. “And I…I—”

“You miss your dad.” He answered for her, and she nodded, feeling warmth gather in her eyes and she squeezed them shut.

“Yeah…it’s not him but…”

“It’s the only thing you’ve got that’s close enough to him.”

“Yeah.”

Jason nodded. “You’re welcome to come live with me over here.”

(Y/N) looked over at him. “I can’t do that, Jason.”

“Why not?”

She laughed. “We barely know each other.”

He shrugged. “We know each other enough.” Gazing at her, he added, “I’m not your world’s Jason, but we must be similar enough because I’ve seen and felt you fall behind me during fights, being at my six when I didn’t have it covered.” He smiled. “You know me, (Y/N), and I’d like to know you too.”

She merely gaped at him, then huffed a laugh. “I think that’s the most similar thing to my world’s Jason that I’ve heard you say.”

“Oh, come on!” he griped. “He couldn’t be that different from me!”

(Y/N) smiled. “Robins.”

Jason blanched. “I had Robins?”

“You had a son, who was exactly like you right now.”

“I wanna ask about the son, but what do you mean right now?”

“Oh, you know…hotheaded, anti-social, antagonistic.”

“You’re cute,” he scowled, then looked into the distance. “I can’t imagine bringing my kid with me.”

(Y/N) giggled. “Please, it took him like five years of complete begging on his knees before you’d even let him put on the suit, let alone go out with you.” She reached over and pushed hair behind his ear. “You were a good father…a good man.” Her expression turned sad. “I wasn’t fast enough to save either of you.”

Jason leaned into her touch, a frown on his face. “They know you tried, (Y/N).”

Tears gathered in her eyes. “I hope they knew that.” She shook her head as the tears started to spill over. “I lost everyone. You, JJ, my dad and all my friends.” (Y/N) stared at him through the tears. “How do I just start over after all that?”

He pushed the takeout bags out of the way and scooted over, pulling her to his chest; she buried her face in his suit and he propped his chin on the crown of her head. “I wish I had an answer for you.” He rubbed circles in her back. “But I do know that you can either let this keep you down, or you can get back up. Because if you don’t…then every life lost was in vain for you to survive.”

“I take it back,” she blubbered. “Your philosophical bullshit life lessons are the most Jason thing I’ve heard.”

He smiled, squeezing her tight. “That’s what we’re gonna call it now. Philosophical bullshit life lessons.” Jason pressed a kiss to her head. “It’s going to be okay, (Y/N). It’ll get better.”

***

It’d been a full year since she’d come to the new earth. She hadn’t moved in with Jason yet, but the moving boxes on the couch were the start of it—and she hadn’t told Barry she was leaving, or that he was her dad. (Y/N) wasn’t sure how to break that seal just yet.

She wandered around the tiny apartment, smiling at all the memories she’d made in the past year, and into his bedroom, where she paused at his dresser. A gold ring rested on top of it, and she picked it up, flipping it in her hand.

A woosh sounded from the door. “I’m home!” Barry’s voice trailed off in confusion and he called, “(Y/N)?”

“Here.”

He appeared in her peripheral, but she didn’t take her eyes off the ring, still gazing at the center stones. “There are boxes on the couch.”

“I’m moving in with Jason over in Gotham.”

“Oh…” he murmured, then took sight of what she had in her hands. “Is that—”

“Nora’s wedding ring?” she nodded. “Yeah.”

“How’d you know it was my mom’s?” Barry asked, stepping up to her and she finally looked at him, meeting his eyes.

“Because I had the same one in my world.” (Y/N) searched his gaze. “But you don’t seem surprised by that fact.” She sighed. “How long have you known?”

Barry’s face contorted in shame. “A few weeks after you got here.”

“Why didn’t you say something?”

He shook his head. “Hal said—” he sighed. “I wanted to wait until you said something to me about it. I was afraid if I did, you’d run.”

(Y/N)’s brows pulled together, lips pulling down sadly. “Barry…”

“I know I’m not your dad,” he whispered. “But I know, (Y/N). I can feel it.”

She felt her lips wobble and before she knew it, she was throwing herself into his arms, wrapping hers around his waist as tight as she could. “Dad.”

Barry’s arms came around her, one holding the back of her head, the other in the middle of her back. “I’m here, (Y/N).”

“I missed you so much,” she cried. “I wasn’t fast enough to save them, and I couldn’t save you either.”

“No,” he said. “You did everything you could. I know you did.”

“But I wasn’t fast enough.” (Y/N) sobbed. “You had to give me your speed so I could run away. Like a coward.”

“Like a survivor,” Barry corrected. “You’ve never run away.” He ran his fingers through her hair. “You’re a survivor, (Y/N). And your dad made sure of that.” He pulled away slightly, tears of his own dripping down his cheeks. “You’re fast enough.” She shut her eyes as more tears rolled down her cheeks and he pressed his lips to her forehead. “And no matter what world you’re on, you’re still my daughter.”

A laugh that sounded much more like a sob escaped her and she hugged him again. “I love you, dad.”

Barry smiled, holding her tight. “I love you more, honey.”

476 notes · View notes

internalsealpanic · 4 years ago

Text

Sealing the Deal part 1

Summary: Always, always be nice to sea creatures but never ever accept their pelt.

A/n: A fic I’ve been meaning to write since forever. My contribution to mermay.

warning: Disgusting fluff and bad decisions

Main Masterlist

part 2

You look like you're gonna die from boredom in your little fishing boat.

Dick rolls over to where Jason was sprawled and used his momentum to push the larger seal into the water. Jason gives an undignified squawk of outrage. Dick just preens and looks smug.

You cup your hand over your mouth as you begin to laugh.

Jason glares even harder at Dick. Dick... couldn't care even less if he tried. All he can focus on is the wrinkle in the corners of your eyes. They'd been gone for so long these past few months. It felt like the first ray of sun after a long storm.

Dick claps his fins in excitement even as Jason snuffs and rolls his eyes. You clap in return but accidentally drop your fishing pole into the sea. Reaching for it, you fall into the water. Dick feels a little bad for laughing but you manage to get yourself back up into the boat safely. You sigh in defeat as your fishing pole drifts away. Dick notices for the first time that your face has grown gaunt from the last few weeks. Are you eating enough? Are you even taking care of yourself? Dick swims over to your boat as it rocks back and forth on the waves. He hops in easily and plops onto your stomach. You laugh and pet his head. It was a weak laugh so he croons at you in question.

“Sorry pup, I don’t have any food for you today. I mean I don’t even have any for me.” Despite the sweet timbre of your voice, Dick can still taste the bitter hopelessness in the statement.

He nuzzles his face into your chest. He can feel just how thin you’ve gotten. He has to do something about this.

To say Dick had been afraid of humans would be a monumental understatement. It had been around 200 years since humans had left the island and the first thing they did when they came back was hunt down selkies. Dick's parents had been two of the unlucky few who'd been hunted down.

So when Dick found himself stranded onshore because of a fin tangled in a fishing line, he thought he was a goner. And when he saw you approaching; well, he still thought he was fucked but he thought you'd at least be nicer than the adults.

Maybe if he acts cute enough you'll spare him.

Dick whimpered and he gave you the big innocent look.

You shushed him harshly. Dick flinched then you flinched and muttered apologies.

You approached him slowly. You looked around before crouching and fiddling with the line Dick had managed to get himself caught in. Carefully, you began to disentangle him. It hurt, especially when you took the hook out, but once he was free. He clapped and trilled before you shushed him again.

Dick thought that it was all over and he could just roll back into the sea until you scoop him up and swaddle him in your shirt.

After 10 minutes of your father screaming at you, he agreed to treat Dick who knew better than to snap at him. Your father was kind with gentle hands. He worked on Dick while you fed him fish. It wasn't the best fish but Dick can't complain.

After an hour or so, Dick started to wriggle and you pull him closer to your chest.

"Dad, can we keep him for a few days? He might still be sick." You plead with big eyes.

Your father glared at you then sighed. "No more than two. His wounds just need to close up, understand?"

You squealed a little. Hugging Dick tighter, you thanked your father before scampering off to find you a basin to put Dick in. You, thankfully, had the good sense to fill it with lukewarm water.

Dick lived like a king in those two days. You fed him a lot of fish much to your dad's exasperation. You kept him warm. You even read to him and sang songs to him.

Dick wanted to stay but he missed Bruce, Alfred, Damian, and maybe that new kid Jason.

On the fourth day (one of the wounds was deeper than expected), Dick was released back into the sea but he never did manage to stay away after that

Dick sets the odd little trinket down in front of Jason's sleeping form. It was something you'd caught in your net days before along with the meager amount of fish you'd managed to net. You'd busied yourself with it for days before throwing it out. Dick wasn't sure what it was; all he knew was that it was something Jason would like.

He waits semi patiently for Jason to notice it, nudging it forward a little until it touches Jason's snout and the larger seal is forced to pay attention to Dick.

"I know when I'm being bribed, Dickface." Jason says, glaring.

Dick volleys it with a wide-eyed hopeful look. He nudges the little trinket forward again. This time, instead of ignoring him, Jason rises to his full height, teeth bared. This... does not faze Dick.

"C'mon Jaaaaaaay," Dick says as if the prolonging of syllables would whittle down Jason's irritation. Jason suspects if he were less inclined to tell Dick to fuck off, it would have worked. Probably. But as it stands, Dick is responsible for ruining a very good, very rare nap for Jason and so he's on the shit list and has lost any favor privileges until further notice.

"I said no. Go away or ask Bruce."

"But Jaaaaaaay, it's just a teensy tiny favor. It won't even take an hour. Not with your skill at least."

"That kind of flattery may work on Harper and it may even work on West but I'm not an idiot about to get involved with whatever shenanigans you have planned with the human."

Dick lets out a long-suffering sigh. Jason isn't stupid enough to think that Dick has actually given up. No, the stubborn little fuck is worse than a barnacle. "You've left me no choice-"

"I have given you plenty of choices. Most of them involve minding your own goddamn business." Jason says with a little snuff.

"-I'm calling it in."

Jason narrows his eyes at Dick.

"Don't you dare. That was 5 years ago."

Dick smiles, evilly. "Unless you want the rest of the family to know about-"

"Fine! What do you want?"

Dick looks smug. Jason wants to bite his face off.

"I need you to help me catch fish."

Jason looks at him, incredulous. "Did you hit your head or something?"

"Not recently. Look, I just need you to help me catch fish for the human." Dick explains like it's the most obvious thing in the world. Contrary to what Dick seems to think, Jason really isn't concerned with the one human on the island. Most of the selkies on the island have barely even interacted with you outside of staring at you.

"You're insane."

"I think we reserve that term for Bruce."

Jason raises his head from the ground. "You're not wrong."

You think you hear the light pitter-patter of raindrops. You sigh. You would be lying if you say you aren't the least bit thankful for the excuse to stay indoors today. You... don't exactly like foraging for food. You had avoided it for as long as you had food in the lighthouse. You thought it would at least last you 'til the ships came in but whatever is going on in the mainland has kept the ships from your shores. You don't mind. You never did find the sailors all that pleasant on the rare occasions that you did have to interact with them.

You like your island the way it is but... you're not exactly the most skilled at hunting... or fishing. You have no idea how your father did it. You chucked it up to the miracles of loaves and fishes. You miss him.

You curl around your pillow in a vain attempt to chase the wakefulness away but the sun in your eyes was too bright. You flutter your eyes open. The sun had the audacity to be there. Still the splushing sound continued.

You strain your ears to listen, trying to make heads or tails of it. It was a squishy sound, the sound of putty hitting stone over and over again. You scramble to the front door. In hindsight, you probably should have grabbed a weapon before running towards the strange sound.

Opening the door, you're greeted with the sight of a familiar seal caught red-handed with a fish in his mouth.

You stare at each other for a long moment before your eyes wander down to a pile of fish. A large amount of fish. Laughter rolls from your lips, musical and manic as you bury your face in your hands.

You think the seal furrows his brow at you, dropping the fish in its mouth before plopping towards you. Plop. Plop. Plop. He looks at you with big dark eyes. Your mouth twitches between curling down into a frown and a smile that spread across your face. On one hand, you are confused. On the other hand, you were gonna be able eat some meat.

A concerned croon comes from the pup and your face decides that it would rather smile at the moment. You throw your arms around him, not at all caring about the seawater getting on your nightclothes.

"Thank you." You whisper and the seal answers with a happy trill.

Dick is over the moon.

He can't even help how loud his trills get. It's ok you don't seem to mind either. He's just happy that you get to eat now.... but you don't.

Dick's a little frustrated when you don't immediately start digging in. Instead, you go back inside your home, swear, shout in delight then come back out with a basin and a jar of white powder. You then run around to fill the basin with seawater then add what Dick finds out is salt into the seawater.

Dick is... concerned.

You go back inside the house. When you come out again, you have a knife in your hand. Dick waddles back a bit. He knows you won't hurt him but it's a habit. You develop these kinds of habits around Bruce.

You settle yourself onto the ground cross-legged and grab a fish. Dick looks on with mild curiosity. You begin to dismember the fish by cutting off it's head, cutting it up in the middle then removing the bones and stomach. That kind of makes sense, Dick thinks. The bones are kind of annoying. Dick nods his head agreeably until you toss the fish into the basin.

Dick looks on in utter confusion as you repeat the process with most of the fish he's brought you.

You turn to him looking equally befuddled before your eyes soften. You look sheepish. "Sorry pup, I can't eat all of this today so I'm salting them so I can eat them the next few..." You count the fish in the basin. "... weeks."

Dick tilts his head but doesn't say anything. You really should just eat more. Dick can get you more if you need it. You just need to ask but you seem content with what you're doing.

Dick is about to rest his head on your lap when you shoot up and scuttle back inside. You return with a line and a smile. Dick watches you string the fish up like laundry. He could probably help you but he has no clue if he should. Just eat the fish damn it.

Finally after what felt like forever, you start preparing the fish and actually eat. You offer Dick some and Dick has to admit cooking the fish does taste odd but not unpleasant. It's totally different from eating it raw (the better way) but it's not horrible. Or maybe it just tastes good because you've got the biggest grin on your face while eating.

Maybe.

Probably, Dick thinks as he munches on his fish, pressed to your side.

___

You sing at the top of your voice. It's a cheerful song but Dick can't quite make out the words. He knows it's human but he's not quite familiar with it. The tune is nice though. Dick rests his head on your lap closing his eyes.

He croons happily when you being to pet him.

You stop midway through the song dissolving into a fit, of what Dick can only describe as, giggles snorts. It was a despicably adorable sound that was engineered to make Dick feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside.

He looks up at you with big curious black eyes. He's not complaining but he hasn't heard you laugh this much before and he may or may not want to know how to make you laugh like this again.

When you don't answer his questioning gaze, Dick nudges against your chest. Your shoulders are still shaking but you manage to stop laughing for a moment.

"Sorry pup," you say wiping a tear from your eye, "I must look crazy to you. "

A little but not as bad as Bruce, Dick thinks. Bruce thinks you humans still don't know there are selkies on the island. Dick snorts at the idea. Everyone knows that all you humans know about selkies. That's why those men keep coming here trying to trap them.

You squish his face affectionately with your hands. "My dad taught me that song and I just realized..." Your mouth turns into a curved line of held back laughter. "...It's a sea shanty about missing being between a woman's legs." The last few words come out more as giggles than proper syllables but Dick can't enjoy that because he can feel his face warm up from the thought. He hides his face in his flippers.

You squeal, absolutely delighted with his mortification. Smiling down at him, you say: "Yanno pup, sometimes I think you understand me."

Thought process-wise, no.

Dick snuggles up to you again, blowing air out of his nose to voice his ascent. You can't just say things like that but again, you just simply seem amused by his suffering when you bend down to press a kiss to the top of his head.

Dick looks up when you pull away. No! Give him more!

Dick stretches up to return the favor, having to partially climb on your lap but only managing to boop your nose with his snout. You nuzzle your nose against his and Dick makes the happiest noise in the back of his throat.

Sometimes after wandering around you had a habit of falling asleep on the shore which Dick thought was fine until he found out that you couldn't swim. Dick being the only with brains in this duo always nudges you awake when the tide starts getting too close. Dick doubts the lapping water will wake you up before sweeping you away. After all, you managed to sleep through Tim, Kon, and Bart's rock piling contest on top of you. Dick shooed them away but even after cleaning up, you didn't wake up.

Dick sees the sailors on the shore and nudges you. You... don't even blink. You hum, content to bask in the sun as you wrap your arms around Dick. Dick huffs. He likes this but he really would prefer it if you move. Dick considers slipping from your grip and grabbing a fish to slap you with like last time.

Dick cranes his head to look at the ship again. It was far too close now, too close for you to get away without being seen by the sailors.

Dick turns you back over to your back and proceeds to body slam you with all his blubber. He winces when you make a choked noise. Dick can give you apology fish later.

"Pup, what the fuck?"

You see the ship. Your eyes widen then flicker to his injured fin. Dick had injured it when he’d been swimming by the docks and got caught in one of the old traps. You’ve done your best to help it heal but you only know so much. You’re still reading up on herbs in case it happens again.

You try in vain to push him off but he's a big loveable sack of blubber and he refuses to move. “C’mon pup, you need to move. They’ll try to catch you if they see you.” You grunt but the sack of blubber refuses to move.

You and Dick stay still as the ship draws near, neither of your chests rises or fall as the ship rocks back and forth.

The ship passes and you let your head fall back with a sigh.

Dick nuzzles his snout against your face, his whiskers tickling your face. You giggle and try to push him off. It’s useless so you let him stay there.

You both decide to take a nap on the shore with Dick huffing in your face once in a while as he snores.

You curl up on the floor in front of the fire, watching the embers flicker, flash, and fade. It's the best thing you can do to calm your fraying nerves. The storm rages outside violently as if it was trying to tear the lighthouse down brick by brick. The whole building shakes with another boom of thunder. You close your eyes and burrow under the thick blanket.

In the back of your mind, your father is chuckling. The absence of a hand on your head is disconcerting. You remind yourself that it won't come, that you'll have to learn to weather the storm alone. You sigh then tighten the blanket around you.

Tok. Tok. Tok.

You blink. The fire was dying. When had you fallen asleep?

Tok, tok, tok.

Blinking, you rub the sleep from your eyes, but the haze doesn’t lift, only growing as you watch the firelight.

Tok tok tok.

You shoot up and barrel towards the door with the frantic knocking growing louder and louder as your feet pound against the stone floor.

You run into the door in your haste. The loud thud of your body against the door causes the frantic knocks to turn into muffled shouting.

Prying yourself from the door, you open it and you don't know what you expected but this wasn't it.

Standing in front of you was a man soaked like a wet rat. You blink in confusion before pulling him inside. You run to grab him a blanket. Wait. You should probably get him a towel. No, wait. You should have gotten his name first. Fuck.

You shuffle back into the room with a towel, spare clothes, and an extra blanket. You.. what can generously be called a heart attack.

For the first time, in the soft glow of the fire, you can fully admire your guest. Not see, admire because there was a lot to admire.

The light of the fire flicking over the planes of his chest, with a light dusting of chest hair, the amber glow highlighting all the muscles of his body, framing the ripples of his toned figure. Swallowing any good sense you have, you watch the rainwater turn golden as it drips down his perfectly bronzed skin. The water cuts through valleys of muscle that could have only been handcrafted by gods. Your eyes follow the flow until... Oh.

You flush furiously, your face glowing brighter than the fire. He's- He's- Oh my god, he's naked.

You reign your eyes in. Ok, you let it linger down there a bit. Not long enough for your guest to notice. You concentrate on his face which wasn't hard to do. The man pushes his raven hair out of his face letting you fully appreciate his face. In keeping with his body, his fine boned face looked like Pygmalion himself spent hours shaping it, not satisfied until he's made the perfect face. It's handsome in an adorable way. Not intimidating. It's the kind of face you'd like to pepper with kisses. You try not to focus on his lips in case of any sinful thoughts. You just met the man. The only thing you will note is that yes, his lips do look absolutely kissable and it aggravates you.

The most striking feature however are his deep blue eyes. The kind of deep that you feel like you could drown in. The kind of depth that looked too pretty to agonize over the fact that your lungs are burning. You stare, trying to carve a perfect replica of those eyes into your mind. Those eyes... that are currently staring at you... as he steps closer... at an alarming speed.

You hold the stack of fabric in front of you like a shield. Your guest stops, looking at the stack. His face goes from concern to confusion to blinding enthusiasm. He was probably freezing.

A smile spreads on his face, the cutest dimples you've ever seen forming on his cheeks, as he accepts the stack. He thanks you and your heart leaps from your chest. Whatever chill you were experiencing from the storm was completely gone. You turn away from him, rubbing the back of your neck and mumbling a halfway point between 'no problem' and 'you're welcome'. You hope it came out as 'no welcome' instead of 'your problem'.

The man snorts and you are pretty sure which one came out. To save yourself the embarrassment, you walk to the kitchen and start preparing tea. The man thankfully occupies himself by looking at the assortment of knick-knacks you've hoarded gathered over the years. It gives you ample time to breathe.

"Do you like sugar in your tea?"

The man nods enthusiastically. You can't help but smile a little.

You sit next to him in front of the fireplace as you hand him his mug. He leans his head against your shoulder. You can feel his body radiating a comforting heat.

You two sit in silence, sipping tea and watching the fire flicker. You wanna scold him for slurping his tea. You're not exactly his mother. You don't even know his name.

You turn to him, face scrunched and about to ask him for his name when he surges forward. His lips brush against your lips as he nudges his nose against yours. You fall backward in shock and the stranger falls on top of you, his eyes still glowing bright and cool against the amber light.

There's a thrill working up your spine or is it fear? You squeeze your eyes shut and throw your arms over your face.

"Please don't hurt me." You plead barely above a whisper.

You feel the body above you lower itself on top of you. He chuckles and shakes his head. "(Y/n), you're being silly."

You open your eyes. The man is laying his body on top of you keeping you pinned down and he's... pouting at you?

"I- I don't know who you are. You can take what you want but please don't hurt me."

The pout deepens into a frown.

"(Y/n), I'm not gonna hurt you. Don't you recognize me?"

You blink. You would definitely remember someone this eye-catching. "You always sing that sea shanty to me. The one about the sailor who misses his wife's..." The stranger flushes and makes a hand gesture. Your face scrunches again. The only person you've sung that to aside from your dad is...

"Pup?!"

His frown morphs back into a pout. "I'm not even that little."

You squish his face with your hands before you let your mind wander. You think back to the scars crisscrossing his limbs and chest. "How is this possible?"

He laughs, prying your hands from his face. "I'm a selkie," He says as if that was the most obvious thing in the world. "My name is also Dick, not pup."

You stare up at him wide-eyed and stupefied. Dick snuggles against you like he always does. Somehow snuggling you in this form is better. He can hold you closer like this. You run your hand through his hair, fingers lacing through the tangles in his hair. He lets out an excited trill.

Dick might just be in heaven right now.

"I dunno how but you're somehow even prettier when I look at you in this form," Dick breathes contently. "I'm so lucky to have such a pretty wife."

You stiffen. Dick looks up at you and the confusion in your face wrenches a knife in his heart. He swallows. "That is what you meant with this, right?" Dick asks, tugging at the collar of his shirt.

Your mouth turns into various shapes trying to piece together a coherent response. It settles on the simplest one. "No."

Dick looks stricken like you'd taken a club to his head.

You reel back. "I just- I- I thought you were cold and you-"

Dick's heartaches. It's a dull ache. He thought this kind of thing would be sharp like having a hook pierce your heart.

His insides twist as he peels of you.

Your stomach sinks as you feel the cold fill your body once more. You don’t want him to go. The thought of being alone right now makes your stomach curdle. Your hands grip his shirt without meaning to. The look on his face hurts but the idea of him leaving felt unbearable. You know it's selfish but here you are begging him not to leave.

"Dick, I'm sorry... I didn't know... I-"

Thunder booms. You squeak and bury your face in his chest. You can't stand storms.

Dick smiles down at you softly. It's still pained but it's bearable.

He lays on his side and pulls you closer. He slots your face into his neck. You're still shivering even when he uses his body to shield you from the rest of the world.

You whisper another apology.

Dick shushes you, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

The sunlight floods into the room like it does every morning but the room is still cold. Your mind works to understand what's wrong with this picture. Your hand pads beside you. The space next to you is empty save for the blanket left behind.

You sniffle, gripping the sheet in your hand. You messed up, you think, pulling it to your face. For the first time in months, the tears come easily. You lay there all day because the tears won't stop.

"If you sigh one more time, I am going to rip your throat out." Jason growls not bothering to open his eyes. Why would he? Dick has been flat and mopey for the past two weeks and Jason is really starting to miss his hyperactivity.

Dick lets out another mopey sigh. Jason. Is. Going. To. Scream.

"Can't you be depressing in Roy's direction? Or Bruce's?"

Dick sighs even louder at the mention of Bruce and Jason, for once, is considering murder or at least maiming.

"She doesn't love me back."Dick sniffles and Jason really should have known this had something to do with you.

He turns to Dick. "I'm going to regret asking but how do you know that?" The sooner he sorts Dick out, the sooner he gets to sleep. "Did she tell you to go away and never come back?"

"Well no-"

It's Jason's turn to sigh. "You fucking moron, What did she even say?"

"She said she didn't know." Dick lowers his head to the sand and Jason wants to slap him with his tail.

Jason is now fully awake and very ready to throttle Dick. Or he's just cranky. "Are you telling me Bruce was right?! This day just keeps getting worse."

Something seems to click in Dick's brain. "Oh, crap Bruce is right." He mutters stupidly.

Jason will take whatever consolation he can get out of this. "She probably thought you were just some random pervert flashing her then." Jason snickers. It's petty and childish but so is interrupting a well-deserved nap.

"What?"

Jason lets out an exasperated huff through his snout. He twists his body to look at Dick with minimal effort to lift his head. "Let's see, you turned up naked at her door and then you called her your wife and nearly kissed her in what? The space of 15 minutes?"

"I got confused." Dick sputters.

"Geez, I thought West was bad but you're just a disaster," Jason chuckles, "Oh! And you made the brilliant decision to leave without explanation," Jason is having far too much fun rubbing salt in the wound. "She probably feels terrible”.

"Are you guilt-tripping me?"

"Is it working?"

"What-" Dick growls. "Well, what do you want me to do?"

"Hmmmmm, have you tried talking? Yanno the thing Bruce never does. But seriously, I can’t believe you call her your wife and then abandon her." Jason shakes his head. "And you have the audacity to call yourself the smart one."

Dick strips out of his skin and begins running towards the lighthouse... naked.

Jason debates on letting him.... he probably shouldn't.

"Dickface!" Jason calls out.

Dick doesn't stop, face crumpled in determination and his little Richard swinging wildly as he walks.

Jason is gonna die of second-hand embarrassment.

"DICKFACE!"

"What?!" Dick asks turning around his hands on his hips. Like usual, his hip tilts to the side and his foot taps as he waits expectantly for Jason to gather a mildly coherent response.

"Your little Richard..." Jason says pointing with his fin.

Dick looks down and the look of mortification on his face is satisfactory. ".... Right. Shit."

"Just steal some from her laundry."

"But she'll be pissed."

"Ok, so you would rather flash her then?"

Dick sighs and this time Jason doesn't have the urge to throttle him only because Dick is already beating his own ego into a pulp. "I hate it when you make sense."

Jason raises a brow, setting his head back down to the warm sand. "I always make sense."

Dick just cackles in response as he heads to the lighthouse.

Dick shifts his weight on the balls of his feet. He feels sick like he'd eaten one of those pickled fish you made him one time. Maybe this was a bad idea. Why did he even listen to Jason? He flips onto his hands and begins to pace. His stomach feels like it's being tossed violently by ocean currents. It feels like a shapeless lump sitting in the pit of his abdomen. Maybe you're out or maybe you never wanna see him again.

Your face had been so blown wide with shock when he had called you wife that it looked almost foreign like the suggestion had been so audacious that your face had to reconstruct itself to accommodate the shock.

Dick puts a hand to his face trying to stem the flow of thought. He was such an idiot. Why did he assume you would love him like that and why did he just leave you? Dick closes his eyes and breathes. He'll knock just once more then leave if you don't answer.

Tok. Tok. Tok.

The knocks register just above a whisper. He thinks you don't hear it.

He lets out a breath and walks away. This was stupid. He should never have come back.

Jason was right. Fuck. Dick buries his face as he walks away.

Distantly, Dick hears the squeak of rusty hinges but it's lost in the tempest of thoughts plaguing his mind, in all the little hurts from that night.

"Pup?" The sound of your voice is followed by the pounding of your feet against stand. Dick's careening to the ground before he knows it as your body collides with his.

"Pup," you sniffle into his shirt, "it is you."

Dick twist in your grip so he's facing you. Your face is buried in his shirt. He strokes your hair, wrapping an arm around you, holding you tight. "Of course, it’s me. Who else would bug you at this hour?"

Dick feels his shirt grow warm. You mumble an apology.

You look up to face Dick with half your face still buried in his shirt. You've clearly been crying based on how red and puffy your eyes are. Dick's stomach churns at the dark circles under your eyes. He feels guilt stab him in the gut. All of that combined with your generally disheveled appearance. Dick can just tell that you haven't slept well the last few days.

"Let's go inside and talk." You say, peeling yourself off of him.

Dick shakes his head, not loosening his grip on your midsection. "Let's walk around you look like you need some sun."

You flushed and put a hand to your cheek. "Do I look that bad?" You ask absently, a shy smile creeping into your features.

Dick smiles at you and pushes your hair out of your face. "Never but the weather is sunny for once and we both need some air."

"So you really didn't know that the island was filled with selkies?" Dick asks, adjusting the infernal scarf you had forced him into. He insisted that he didn't need it. He could just cuddle up to you for warmth but you were equally stubborn about him wearing a coat and the wool monstrosity strangling him.

Your face scrunches up in confusion." I- I don't even know what that is."

Dick stops.

You slow down upon realizing he wasn't by your side anymore. "You... don't know what a selkie is?" He asks, his face the definition of dumbstruck.

You shrink into your coat." My dad wasn't interested in things like that," you shrug, "I dunno much about..." Your hand twists in a circle, reaching for the right words.

Dick tilts his head. That made sense. "You thought we were all just seals?"

You nod slowly, looking like you wanna shrivel up.

Dick starts laughing and you look like you're a second away from throwing yourself into the water.

"I'm sorry," he says, flailing. He's screwing this up again. He breathes to collect himself. "I just thought it's funny that we all thought my dad was wrong about you guys not knowing."

You rub the back of your neck. "Most of us mainlanders don't really believe in magic, yanno? It's just such a foreign concept. Kind of hard to wrap my head around it."

"I get that." The smile on his face makes your gut twist. You fiddle with your hands.

"So what are selkies?"

Dick tilts his head, not exactly sure of how to word it because how do you explain something that's been obvious to you since you can remember to someone who just found out about it a few weeks ago?

"We're fae, I guess-" Your face twists in confusion.

Dick needs to backtrack. "We're fae..." This is hard. "We have this human form and we have our seal forms. We switch between them using our pelt."

Your brow knits in confusion. "Which one is your true form then?"

Dick wraps his arm around your waist and holds you closer as you walk along the cliff tops. He hums as he thinks. "Both?"

You look up at him with a weary smile. “That makes sense in a way.” You hum. Swallowing thickly, you fiddle with your hands. "So what was with the... um..." You clear your throat. "What was with the wife thing?"

Dick’s mouth dries. “Well... when we want to ask someone to be our mate... we- we kind of give them our pelt and I thought it translated to human clothes…” He stammers out dumbly.

“Oh...oh!” Your eyes widen into a look of horror. You open and close your mouth trying to form words. “Dick, I didn’t realize , that must have - I’m sorry I hurt you.”

“Please don’t apologize,” Dick says and presses his lips to the top of your head. His lips are warm and comforting. “I’ve spent so long in love with you my brain just didn’t...” Dick’s mouth twists. “It just didn’t do what it was supposed to.”

You would definitely laugh at that last part but you’re still seeing stars from the startling confession he just hit you with. You snuggle tighter into his embrace as you look over the sea. You don’t know how to respond. You really don’t and it frustrates you. It was all just a lot to take in all at once like you’d been tossed into the sea and you’re flailing and grasping at water.

But if nothing else, you’re at least glad that Dick is still talking to you.

“If you don't mind…” Dick says carefully, the look in his eyes determined. “Would it be alright if I try and pursue you properly?” Dick braces for a no. He’s not dumb enough to be hopeful twice but he needs to ask.

Inevitably, you freeze. You pull his arm closer to your chest. Swallowing, you ask: “you mean like a human courtship?”

He nods closing his eyes. “Yes, I want to court you.” He coughs clearing his throat.

You’re silent for what felt like the longest 30 seconds of Dick’s life. Dick cracks one eye to see you fiddling with your hair. “Uh Dick, there’s this one problem that might make that difficult…” Dick raises a brow. It wasn’t an outright rejection but it wasn’t an answer.

“I don't know how that works either.” You laugh nervously, burying your face in his arm.

“Good - then we don’t know if I’m doing it badly.” Dick beams with a blinding smile.

You twist to look at him, the corners of your mouth twitching. “That sounds like cheating.”

Dick snorts, “would you rather I court you the selkie way?”

“I mean it depends. What's the selkie way?”

“Fish.”

Dick startles when you let out a loud bark of laughter. “Fish? You’ve already done that so many times.” You giggle. Dick tries to wrangle his mind away from the fact that he can feel your lips through the thin fabric of the sweater.

“I thought it worked.” Dick sighs. He really did, but alas, miscommunication is a cruel mistress.

You lower your gaze trying to concentrate on the fraying needlework of his sweater. “Maybe it has.” You mumble low enough for a human not to hear. How unfortunate it is then that you’re dealing with a selkie.

Dick is beaming when you look up again. He nuzzles his face against yours. Dick is once again insanely, stupidly, incredibly happy.

__________________________________________________________________________

Because neither of you knew what you were doing, Dick's attempts to court you ranged from ridiculous (a literal mountain of fish that you ended up drying, giving away to the other seals, and selling to passing ships.) to ridiculously sweet (finding you handful of pearls). Dick nudged a little shell overflowing with pearls and looked up at you with liquid eyes. He could have gotten you pebbles and it would have been endearing.

It wasn't always gifts though.

Sometimes Dick would just sit quietly with you on the beach, snuggling against your leg as you scratched his stomach. You love the ways his squish vibrated as he purred.

When summer passed and it became unbearable to watch the stars outside, Dick sometimes spent nights in your lighthouse, wrapped up in your sheets or wrapped around you. It was nice having him around the house even if he was kind of a slob. You love him but he is a mess.

You made the mistake of introducing him to tea cakes and got him addicted to November Cakes specifically. As it turns out, your cute pest has a sweet tooth and will nuzzle you into submission just for another bite.

If you ever doubted that Dick was evil before, you now have proof.

During the winter, Dick insisted on staying in the lighthouse to keep you warm. You wanted to point out that you had a fireplace for a reason but it was so hard to turn down hugs from him.

And because you hadn't had the heart to clean out your father's room yet and Dick clearly preferred it, you let Dick sleep next to you on your cot. You felt a bit bad but Dick was just so happy with the arrangement that you didn't want to make him go away. Besides, it was nice to wake up to his sleeping face in the morning, all sleep rumpled and drooling.

__________________________________________________________________________

"Hey Jay, do you have a book on selkies?" Dick asks, caterpillaring on the rock Jason is sunbathing on.

Jason takes the opportunity to roll down the rock and knock Dick into the sea before saying: "No." It shall be put on record that there are no drama queens in the Wayne family.

Dick shakes off the seawater, big puppy eyes staring at Jason.

Jason glares at him. He can't even let Jason have a second of smugness. "Ask Selina."

No one really knows where Selina came from or why she stayed (well, they had their suspicions), but if you need something you can't find easily, your best bet was to ask her and hope she doesn't ask you to do anything ridiculously hard.

Dick hasn't had first hand experience but from what Bruce tells him, they're mostly silly things like recite poems or do a flip. He could do both those things. Well, depending on the poem. He gets tongue twisted sometimes. Hmmm, maybe he should ask if he can avoid tongue twisters so he won't bite his tongue.

Sloughing off his coat, Dick walks towards the glowing cauldron.

"Still no clothes pup? You're going to give a poor girl a heart attack." Selina tsked, reappearing from one of the other cave entrances with a handful of things Dick can't recognize.

"Oh... I- I'm still not used to it." He says sheepishly.

Selina chuckles, dumping the handful of what Dick can assume is plant debris into the cauldron while before dusting her hands off.

Dick stares at the thick vat. A bubble rises and bursts emitting what sounded like a human voice. "What is that? Should I be worried?"

"Oh no, no, this? This is just a little soup for colds."

"It screamed."

"All soups scream."

"I- anyway, I came here to ask if you have a book on selkies."

Selina tilts her head to the side. "I believe I do-"

"Great!"

"Buuuut..."

Of course, the price.

"I brought pearls and some seashells." He says hopefully.

The angle of her head does not change. Though from the gleam in her eyes, she's clearly interested.

"Tell me why you need the book."

Dick's thoughts halt. Should he tell Selina about you? His eyes dart to the boiling cauldron. "... Why do you need to know?"

Selina flourishes her hand. The book appears out of thin air."Do you want the book or not, pup?"

Dick's nerves pinch. Why does everyone call him that? "I need it to teach someone Selkie customs." He manages.

"Oh! The little lighthouse keeper!"

"You know her?"

Selina shrugs. "Do you really think I wouldn't know something going on about the islands nearby?" She pinches his cheek. "Oh little pup, I know about your little crush. You spend more time on land than you do in the sea these days. Dami's been all huffy about it."

He has.

"I've told you my reason." Dick says holding his hand out.

"Hnnnn, you have I suppose." Selina sighs.

Dick takes the book, putting it into a waterproof pouch before gingerly putting his pelt back on. He happily caterpillars out of the cave with the pouch in his mouth. He really hopes you'll like this.

You really should just fix up another cot for Dick at this point and maybe buy him a set of clothes when you go to town.

"It's too cold to sleep outside." Dick whines, flattening himself against you on the bed.

You lift your book to look at him. Dick just gives you that wide-eyed look when he wants something. You roll your eyes, letting him snuggle up to you. "Dick, it is obviously summer and you're like 40% blubber." You snort.

Dick pouts. "You're still gonna let me sleep here."

You scrunch your face up and sigh. "I can't exactly let you brace the summer cold, can I?" You say, running a hand through his hair.

"Eeeeeexactly." Dick says happily as snuggles into you tightly. He nuzzles his face into your neck wrapping his arms around your waist. You hum helplessly, curling into his embrace.

"See." Dick trills with a happy grin.

"Are you going to be smug about it all night?" You huff, throwing a blanket over the two of you.

"No," he says, "you assume I can't keep being smug 'til sunrise."

"Dork," you snicker, setting the book down. It was a book on selkie traditions that Dick had gotten you a few days ago. You devoured it the same night but you're reading it again and subtly testing things while Dick was invading your house. You hum, running your hand through his hair, fingernails lightly scraping against his scalp. Dick purrs against your chest. "There was a one eyed seal on the beach the other day. He was a grumpy fellow but kind of cute. Seals really are a sleepy lot. The big lug started snoozing on my lap after like 5 minutes."

Dick tense under your touch. He looks up at you seriously.

"That was a selkie." Dick deadpans.

You stop your rambling. "What?!"

"That grumpy one-eyed seal was a selkie." He repeats carefully.

Your breath stutters. "Are all of the seals on this island selkies? ALL OF THEM?" Dick is pretty sure your eyes are mounting an escape.

"All of them, darling." Dick nods.

"Oh." You are so screwed. "Do you guys all talk to each other?!" You shouldn't have told that seal about your little crush. You want the mattress to swallow you up.

"Yes? Should I be concerned?" Dick asks, lifting his head.

"No! No reason!" You squeal, shaking your head.

Dick pouts at you with suspicion. It occurs to you with some amusement that Dick is actually glaring. You wisely decide to sidestep the conversation.

"You guys love taking naps on people, huh?" You say, absently twining your fingers into Dick's hair. He settles his head against your chest. "That's just cus we like you." He hums.

A snort rips out of you. "You're just biased."

Dick looks up at you seriously again. "We selkies like pretty things like any fae." Dick says, wrapping his arms around you more tightly. He's being petty but Dick has always been protective of you and he isn't about to stop now. Besides... he doesn't want anyone stealing you away.

You frown at him. "Dick, there are far prettier things on this island and sweet talking won’t magically make November cakes appear." You huff, kissing the top of his head before picking up the book and using it to hide the smile shaping your lips.

You feel Dick pick himself up off of you. You peek over your book to watch Dick. He scoots closer to your face until the only thing separating you is the far too thin book in your hands.

"You don't believe me, do you?"

"No." You say. You don't mean it but it's the easiest thing to conjure up when Dick is this close. Your lips prickle from imagining Dick's lips against yours.

You weren't paying attention. Dick has apparently been going on a two-minute diatribe on how pretty you are and in that two minutes, Dick has managed to scoot even closer. He gently takes the book out of your hands to make sure you're paying attention. He fails to take into account the fact that his face is in fact distracting. Your eyes zero in on his very plush and very kissable lips. If you just lean forward a fraction, you could...

Your lips feel warm and soft against Dick's, the rest of his diatribe dying in the back of his throat as his eyes flutter shut. His mind might just be melting out of his ears because the only thing he can think about is how soft you are and how perfectly your lips fit against his.

"I'm sorry." You whisper shyly. You should be sorry, Dick thinks. Who told you to pull away?

You touch your fingers to your lips. Fuck, what did you just do?

"You can do it again." Please, he almost adds.

You lick your lips. Dick perks up and leans closer. His heart is going to leap out of his chest. You lean closer. Dick can feel his heart pounding against his rib cage.

You kiss Dick on the nose and pull away, hiding your lips behind your hand as you snicker. Dick scrunches his nose and blows air out of it.

"You know perfectly well what I meant." He huffs.

You lean back into your pillow, grinning at him. "I have absolutely no clue what you're on about." You say slowly, smug.

"Let me remind you then,"A grin takes over his face. Dick leans in, pressing his lips against yours. You exchange breaths as you drink in the feeling of each other's lips. Dick caresses your sides. He feels you shiver and he smiles into your lips. "That ring any bells?"

"Not really..." You say, flickering your eyes to him. "But if you try again... it might."

"Oh sweetheart, I can keep reminding you all night." Dick chuckles, winking.

Covering your face, you attempt to hide your embarrassment. You hate how easily he flusters you. "You can't just say stuff like that." You whimper.

"Why not? I'm supposed to be courting you and that includes buttering you up," Dick says, nuzzling your cheek. You're just too cute. Dick gently pries your hands away from your face. "Don't hide your face from me, Honey."

"Oh god, you're making me regret letting you court me."

"Never."

______________________________________________________________________

Dick's eyes are struggling to remain open as he watches the fire. He burrows further into the thick comforter you'd given him. It's not quite as warm as his pelt but the fabric is puffy and it has a sweet smell that makes his head swim.

Dick angles his head slightly to watch you. You've been toiling for hours and refuse to tell Dick what it is. Your back is still hunched over with your foot bouncing on the floor. Dick lets his eyes flutter shut, listening to the sound of your shuffling tools.

You glance down at the adorable mess dozing off on your sofa. You gently move his hair out of his face. He swats at you sleepily, face scrunched even as he sleeps. You sincerely wish you had Damian's talent for art or that you had one of those cameras. You really wish you could keep a picture of Dick's sleepy face. It's the cutest thing in the world.

"Hey Dickie," you whisper.

"Hmmmmm?" He groans.

"Could you hand me your pelt?"

"Sure," he moans, blindly padding around for it. You snort as he nearly falls off the sofa. After groping nearly every surface, he finally finds the pelt. "here you-"

The fur brushes your fingertips before Dick stops. Dick shoots up, nearly clipping your nose with his forehead. He's looking at you fully awake, drool still hanging off the corner of his lips."Are you sure?!"

"Hand it over coward." You smile gently at him. You try your best to fight off the excitement bubbling in your veins.

Dick is off the couch, his own excitement barely contained as his whole body vibrates with happiness. He sits up. You hold out your hand but instead of handing you his pelt, Dick drapes it over you like a wedding veil. It's thick and warm to the touch. You let your hands brush over the silken fur. You can feel magic thrumming from it. It feels like a minute current of electricity but it doesn't flow linearly. It ebbs and flows as it pleases, pulsing beneath your fingers. You burrow yourself in it.

Something warm spills in Dick's chest as he sees you wrapped up in his pelt. Dick kisses your nose. "You have now been wifed."

You twitch your nose. "You missed."

"Nope. Don't think so. Buuuuut if you show me where you want me to kiss you..."

You roll your eyes and surge forward, pressing your lips to his. Dick smiles into it, pulling you close and savoring the sensation of your lips melding together. He makes a happy trilling noise while you laugh against his lips.

"That clear enough, Dickie?" You ask, pressing your forehead against his.

"Yeah, I think I got it, wifey."

__________________________________________________________

THANKS FOR READING

Tag list: @batarella, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @idkmanicantenglish , @birdy-bat-writes, @boosyboo9206, @americasmarauders , @l-inkage, @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay, @wunderstell @hyp-oh-critical @glorified-red @ marshmallow12435 @vvipgot7be @jadedhillon

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson x you #dick grayson #dorks #seals #selkie x reader #selkie au

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moonlit-imagines · 4 years ago

Text

Misbehavior (Part 2)

Jason Todd x batkid!reader

warnings:

a/n:

prompt:

part 1

Jason and you had completely lost track of time during the bonding session he’d enacted over ice cream, but that wasn’t a bad thing.

It was starting to get dark out, that meant that you’d have to start patrol soon.

“I guess we’d better get out of here.” You sighed while wiping melted ice cream off of your hands with a napkin.

“Yeah!” Jason slapped the table, making you jump back. “Yeah, we do! We’re going to see Bruce!”

“What are you going on about?” You asked while shoving your garbage together, a little intrigued by Jason’s sudden excitement to see Bruce. He was never excited to see Bruce. Ever.

“I’m gonna give that trust fund baby a piece of my mind.” Jason grabbed his trash and threw it away as he stormed out the door, giving you barely enough time to catch up. You rushed to the car and fell into the passenger seat, not even able to close the door before Jason his the gas. He had this look in his eyes, one that you only saw on special occasions. Like when Alfred makes margaritas.

“Wait give me your guns before we get anywhere near there.” You instructed as he swerved around three different cars. “And slow down, for god’s sake. Remember when Dick got in that car wreck? New stations ate that stuff up, we don’t need that kind of publicity again.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jason laughed at you as he flipped through the radio stations.

“Guns.” You demanded once more.

“Don’t have ‘em. Came unarmed. Because of the school.” You crossed your arms and stared at him until he noticed from the corner of his eye and groaned. “Under the seat.”

“Thank you.” You perkily answered while leaning over and fishing for his weapons. Crisis averted.

“Okay so, I’m gonna go in the Batcave and give Bruce a piece of my mind,” Jason explained over the blaring speakers, “I need you to stay nearby just in case he decides he’s sick of my shit and like, call’s Ra’s to undo my resurrection or something!”

“What?” You shouted back, trying not to laugh at his plan.

“Are you asking what did I say or are you asking what am I talking about?” You tried to reach for the volume knob, but Jason just pushed your hand away. “Don’t you dare turn my music down!”

“Jay, it’s a commercial!”

—————

Jason had stormed through the Manor full-speed while you loosely followed, wondering how this would turn out. The two of you arrived to the grandfather clock in no-time, Jason rotated the hands to open the wall.

“Why the fuck isn’t it opening?” Jason grumbled as you pushed him aside. “Don’t tell me he changed the code.

“You put in 10:46.” You poked the minute hand a smidge upwards and stepped back as the Batcave entrance revealed itself.

“So fuckin’ tedious.” Jason muttered while rushing down the stairs, leaving you to scramble after him. Your footsteps left an echo each time you hit the metal, which always scared you for some reason. Or maybe it was the fact that there were holes in the steps that revealed a drop into the great unknown. “Bruceeee!” Jason called into the cavern of delusional know as the “Batcave.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” The adoptive father that you had in common pinched the bridge of his nose as he sat before the Batcomputer. “What is it, Jason?” He asked, swiveling his seat to face the two of you. “Y/N, you should get ready for patrol.”

“No, no, no, y/n. Stay right there.” Jason commanded with his arm out, halting your from any further movement. “Bruce, are you fucking kidding me?”

“What’s the problem this time?” He asked bluntly, seeming to just barely care about Jason’s anger. I mean, he was usually like this, it wasn’t new or anything.

“This kid right here. This one.” Jason pointed to you. Well, to the right of you. You weren’t exactly where he thought you were behind him. “You need to start giving a shit, because man, this kid is special.”

“I care about all my children equally.” Bruce’s lies rolled right off of his tongue, it was fascinating.

“Bullshit, man!” Jason shouted back at his father, you were beginning to think this was more personal than ever. “I’ve been talking to this kid for like, six hours. Bullied, ignored, talented, badass, and some other stuff! But do you care about any of that? You didn’t even care enough to pick them up from school!” Jason’s face was starting to get a little red, you were contemplating whether or not you shoukd step in and give him a break.

“I had work to do, Jason. You know this.” Bruce was showing absolutely no remorse, it was sickening. Your stomach was literally turning whike you watched.

“If it were Tim or Damian you would’ve sprinted out the door, don’t even lie!” Jason replied, watching Bruce’s eyebrows lift up. “I barely knew y/n before today, and that sucks. That’s my little sibling, I should know more about them. Quick, tell me their middle name.” Your dad was silent, proving your brother’s point. “Uh-huh. It’s m/n.”

“Jason, you’re out of line—” Bruce attempted to scold, but you couldn’t win that game with Jason Todd.

“I’m bot finished yet!” He snapped. “I fuckin’ love this kid. No joke, love ‘em. How can you not?” Listening to this boosted your ego more than you’d like to admit, you weren’t used to all this praise. “That’s my little sibling,” he repeated, “that’s family that gets it.” Before he could go on, a few more of your siblings entered the cave.

“What’s going on here?” Tim asked, triggering a vein-pop in Jason’s forehead.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, replacement?” He rolled his eyes and looked over to you, who was actually doing the same! Heartwarming how that happens.

“Jason has decided to lecture me on how I parent my children.” Bruce answered Tim’s question in such a generalized way that your brother just couldn’t stand for.

“Y/N’s been getting bullied at school and he doesn’t give a single fuck!” Jason announced the the Batclan.

“You didn’t have to tell them that part, Jay.” You whispered while tugging on his sleeve.

“Oh, yes I did. It’s a sympathy tactic.” He whispered back and went on with his speech. “He doesn’t pay any attention to y/n. None of you do! That’s no way to treat one of your own!”

“Get over it, Todd.” Damian clicked his teeth and shoved right past you two, ready to get on with patrol.

“Well, if that’s how you feel then fine! Y/N, pack your shit, you’re staying with me tonight. It’s too crowded in this stupid mansion anyway.” Jason rested a hand on your back and led you out of the cave. “Gonna stop me, Bruce? Didn’t think so.”

taglist: @thatwaspossession // @ravenmoore14 // @thisetaernallove // @kinoko-kai //

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jinx-jade · 4 years ago

Text

Contagious adoption Part 2: Creatures

Marinette and Tim were sitting in the living room of one of Tim’s apartments. They had flown in from the Tibet village about thirteen or fourteen hours ago.

Tim had filled out all the adoption papers and any other legal papers his newly claimed daughter would need. To his surprise, Marinette had identification papers. He had thought the little deity didn’t need them. After all, Marinette had lived on the hill to grant wishes, why would she need identification papers.

Unless she didn’t live on the hill her whole life…

Thinking back to what Marinette had said when he asked her why she stayed up on the mountain all alone. Tim had a feeling she’s been abandoned before.

Back on the mountain, Marinette had shifted from one foot to the other a few times before answering his question. She seemed to have been contemplating what to tell him. Or was it how much to tell him?

Her answer, “Because I have nowhere else to go and no one waiting for me anywhere.” was a well-thought-out way to respond.

If no one wants you, then no one waits for you.

If no one waits for you, then you have nowhere to go.

“... ake, Mr. Drake,” Marinette called for the umpteenth time.

“Sorry about that, guess I got lost in my thoughts,” Tim said with a sheepish smile. “Did you need something? Oh, and you can just call me Tim, or any variation of dad that you’re comfortable with.”

“Oh, uh, I don’t need anything… ” The little deity trailed off. “But, uh, does… does Papa work?”

Tim gave his daughter a soft smile.

‘His daughter. Now wasn’t that a strange thought.’ Tim couldn’t help but think to himself.

“You can call me Papa if you want.” He said with a smile, before adding, “I can speak French and a few other languages.”

Tim was unsure why he felt like mentioning that he can speak French was important. However, when Tim saw Marinette look up at him in awe, he couldn’t help but think It was the right thing to say.

“Now, what is it you wanted to do,” Tim asked, picking his daughter up so she doesn’t have to look up at him the whole conversation.

“Can we make cookies? It’s… It’s been a long time since I’ve had any…” Marinette trailed off again.

“Of course we can make cookies. What kind did you want to make?” Tim asked with a soft smile.

Life continued like normal for the young CEO, vigilante, with the addition of a small deity. However, there were a few changes to his lifestyle.

Tim was now able to cook and bake, not as good as Alfred, but he figured that Alfred won’t ban him from the kitchen.

Tim also registered Marinette Drake-Wayne as being homeschooled. Which was fine since Tim was technically qualified to homeschool his kid. However, Marinette flew through the classes like they were nothing. Her teachers wanted to have her IQ tested, but Marinette said she didn’t want to, so no one pushed it.

Tim also worked from home, only ever showing up to meetings. He also seemed to have a little helper when it came to some of the paperwork. Turns out, Marinette knows how a business runs, and how to run one. It was slightly concerning, but his daughter waved his concern off.

Tim took a break from being a vigilante. He still helped out by sending the bats reports of the rogue of the day, or sometimes a week, that they were tracking. Marinette helped out with this as well. Apparently, she’s been a vigilante before. To say that Tim was concerned was an understatement, but his concern was once again, waved off.

After a month of living with his adopted daughter, Tim had his first in-person meeting at W.E.

“Hey bean, do you want to come with me to work?” Tim asked while making breakfast.

“Am I allowed to?” Marinette shot back in response.

“I mean, B. always took his kids to work so, I’m just gonna say you’re allowed to,” Tim answered with a shrug, setting the food at the table.

Marinette shrugged back.

“Sure! I’ll go ahead and call H.R. and let them know I’ll be making my first appearance as Marinette Drake-Wayne.” Marinette informed him, before digging into her food.

Tim chuckled at that.

“You’re definitely gonna be H.R.’s favorite.” He claimed before he began eating his breakfast.

“Papa, I used to grant magic wishes on a hill with mythical creatures, that is my version of normal. I’m willing to bet that I will be H.R.’s least favorite person by the end of the year.” Marinette claimed, causing Tim to laugh.

“Bean, sweetheart, you’re about to call H.R. to let them know about a mess they will have to clean up. The rest of the Waynes, myself included, usually just let them find out through the tabloids and news stations. You’re definitely gonna be their favorite.” Tim informed his daughter.

_______________________

Tim stepped out of his car and walked through W.E. up to his office. He was aware of the attention that was on him, not bothered by it in the slightest.

He looked down at his daughter to see that she was trying to hide from sight. She was clearly not comfortable with everyone looking at her. Well, everyone looking at her and the lack of magic. He really should have remembered that Marinette has extremely bad anxiety whenever she can’t freely use magic. In his defense, it seemed that neither of them had remembered due to having barely left the apartment the whole month Marinette has been living there.

Tim looked up and around the workplace. He raised a brow at the employees that were just watching, most of them scrambled to work, or simply turned their attention away to seem busy.

When Tim and Marinette finally made it to Tim’s office, they thought they could relax, only to see the rest of the Waynes sitting inside.

Bruce looked like he was about to ask something, but stopped when he caught sight of the little girl hiding behind Tim.

Tim of course, ignored his families questioning stares in favor of calming his daughter.

Tim sat Marinette down in his office chair with a cup of coffee, before turning his attention to the others in the room.

“I wasn’t aware everyone started working at W.E.” Tim joked with a raised brow. A clear question as to why they were in his office.

“Not all of us do,” Dick answered looking towards the small child. “Did you just give the tiny person coffee?”

Tim shrugs the question off easily, “Caffeine helps calm her anxiety when she’s too overwhelmed.”

“And who exactly is she?” Damian inquired, sounding a bit more like a demand than a question.

Tim looked over to Marinette who seemed to be doing slightly better. There wasn’t much else they could do besides give her more coffee and random tasks to do. He gestured for her to come over and talk, a simple task to take her mind off the lack of magic. She slowly made her way off the office chair and towards the group of people.

“Marinette, this is my adoptive father, brothers, and sister, Bruce, Barbara, Dick, Cass, Jason, Steph, and Damian. Guys, this is Marinette Drake-Wayne, my adopted daughter.”

Marinette gave a small, shy wave and smile before hiding behind her father once again.

“You disappeared for a month, and apparently adopted a kid.” Jason states. “Damn, and here I thought it was supposed to be my job to stress B. out.” He claimed with a chuckle.

“Could one of you watch Marinette for me while B. and I are in the meeting? I had asked her this morning if she wanted to come since I couldn’t leave her at home alone, but I don’t think either of us thought It would be this bad for her anxiety.” Tim states.

“How about those of us who don’t have a meeting to attend will go back to the manor, and we can watch over Marinette,” Barbara suggests.

Tim looked to Marinette to see if she would be ok with it, only to receive a shrug from the little deity.

“Ok.” Tim agreed after some hesitation. “If Marinette starts getting too anxious then give her something with caffeine in it and have her draw, or bake something,” Tim informs them.

After Marinette and Tim say their goodbyes, Marinette follows Barbara, Dick, Cass, and Steph out to the limo.

The drive to Wayne manor was awkward, to say the least. None of the Waynes had known that Tim adopted a kid, and they weren’t sure if she knew about their nightly activities, so they stayed quiet.

Tim’s daughter didn’t seem to mind the silence. Marinette was looking out the window calmly with no signs of her previous anxiety. However, every once in a while her hand slightly opens and closes as if grabbing something.

When they arrived at the manor, Dick was immediately grabbed into a hug by his daughter. Mar’i speaks too fast and excitedly for them to understand, unknowingly grabbing the attention of most of the Waynes.

Cass however, noticed the youngest and newest Waynes flinch at Mar’i’s unexpected appearance. Cass quickly and quietly, moved away from the other Waynes, bringing Marinette with her, inside the manor.

“Would the two of you like anything to drink or snack on?” Alfred asked when they entered.

“Tea. Muffin,” Cass says pointing to herself. “Coffee. Muffin?” Cass said pointing to Marinette.

“Of course, why don’t the two of you relax in the garden,” Alfred suggests.

Cass nodded her head leading them to the garden while Alfred left to prepare their snacks and drinks. Marinette seemed to be stuck in her head and simply followed Cass silently.

Marinette and Cass spent the afternoon in the garden, the plants seemed to have a calming effect on the smaller Wayne. After Marinette being in the garden for a while and drinking her coffee, Marinette seemed to have calmed down.

However, not all of Marinette’s anxiety and nerves were calmed by the coffee and plants. Cass just wasn’t sure what else could be calming the little bluenette.

After a few more minutes had passed, some small creatures started gravitating towards Marinette.

A white rabbit, some squirrels, birds, even a butterfly landed on Marinette’s nose making the girl giggle.

Cass could only watch in awe as the small creatures came closer. None of them wanted any food, water, or shelter, they simply wanted Marinette’s attention.

Then Cass noticed that the few small injuries and bruises she had received from last night’s patrol were fading away.

No.

They were healing.

Cass took out her phone and quickly recorded her injuries healing too fast to be normal, this seemed like the kind of thing the other bats would want to know.

Cass also took a video and a few pictures of Marinette playing with the animals. She had to admit, the pictures looked adorable, so of course, she sent some to Tim.

Chat: Tim

Cass: one attached picture*

Tim: good call on bringing her to the garden

Cass: Alfred idea

Tim: where are the others

Cass: Mar’i frightened? Marenet?

Tim: KEEP MARINETTE AWAY FROM KORI AND MARI

Cass: why

Tim: Marinette isn’t

Tim: normal

Cass: one attached video*

Tim: yeah

Tim: her anxiety is caused by not being able to use magic freely

Tim: should have mentioned that before

Tim: sorry

Cass: I text others?

Tim: Yeah go-ahead

Tim: Lunch break is over

Tim: I'll see you guys when the meetings are over

Cass: ok

Cass shot a quick text to Dick, warning him that Tim doesn’t want Kor’i or Mar’i near Marinette till he was at the manor, before looking up from her phone to check on Marinette. She seemed to be relaxed, definitely not as anxious as before. Cass probably wouldn’t have been able to tell that Marinette has anxiety from looking at her right now.

Marinette looked up from the little creatures she seemed to have befriended, with a smile. She got up with some plants in her hand and made her way towards Cass.

Marinette placed a flower crown on Cass’s head with a giggle, before running back to the animals.

Cass couldn’t help but think that Tim had a lot of explaining to do when he gets to the manor.

‘But that’s not my problem to deal with.’ Cass thought to herself as she took a picture of the flower crown and sent it to the family chat.

#maribat #maribat march 2021 #Contagious adoption

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imagine-nation20 · 4 years ago

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Sunshine and The Art of Picking Your Battles

Summary: “I wasn’t planning on rescuing anyone today, but it looks like my plans just changed.”

Requested By: Anon

Request: “I wasn’t planning on rescuing anyone today, but it looks like my plans just changed.” for Jason Todd (with the reader being kidnapped by any villain you want)

A/N: Jason Todd will forever and always be the best robin and I will not take criticism. Also I love writing established relationship with superheroes where one doesn’t know the other is a vigilante, so enjoy some reader having no sense of self preservation, and Jason outing himself as the red hood.

~~~

You hated Gotham. Or rather, you hated the criminal underbelly of Gotham, which wasn’t so much an underbelly as it was a very obvious toupee on the top of the head of the city. Gotham was built on crime, and it would probably crumble under the weight of crime. Most people who lived there were either involved in crime, or involved in the vigilante justice served by the masked crusaders.

Running a bar in Gotham was bad, running a bar in the crummy part of Gotham was worse. That is, if you could claim any part of Gotham wasn’t crummy.

Still, it was a better job than some of the other options. Who could blame the owner of the place appointing you manager and fucking off to his apartment in the only part of Gotham that could afford working deadbolts.

So it was no wonder that you got jumped on your way home after a particularly grueling shift.

Three men dressed in suits too nice for the area. It was pretty much common sense to learn some form of self defense if you were going to live in a city like Gotham, however, three against one wasn’t exactly fair odds.

They tied your wrists, dropped a bag over your head, and then hit you with something heavy and blunt that was probably going to leave permanent damage.

Waking up was a headache, to say the least. Your head pounded like a drum, the blood rushing through your ears sounding like the waves against the harbor. Or maybe that really was the harbor.

It didn’t really matter, because you had a bigger problem to worry about than whether or not the ‘whooshing’ in your ear was blood or water.

A man, dressed in an expensive suit, stood a few feet away. His head was covered in the dark, slightly shiny material of a mask, shaped like a skull. Beady eyes peered through, staring you down.

“So, what is a bartender like yourself doing associating with the Red Hood?” Roman Sionis was easily recognizable, and his identity was not a secret to the citizens of the city. He seemed almost proud to lord the fact that everyone knew who he was, but couldn’t put him away for anything tangible.

Unless of course that person was Batman or one of his many disciples.

“What the fuck are you on about?” You slurred. You cursed yourself internally for your inability to keep your mouth shut. Most of the time you were okay, but you were tired, and in pain, and this was the third time this week you had been assaulted, so you were over it. Criminals and crime lords were a dime a dozen, and despite his very intimidating reputation, you could not care less about Black Mask.

He laughed, and it almost sounded genuine, “I’m talking about the fact that I have on good word that Red Hood has been in your shitty little bar almost every night for the past week.”

You were going to kill Kallista.

You avoided associating with vigilantes, but your coworker, and the woman who worked most night to day shifts, was known for giving vigilantes free drinks when they dropped in. Now, it seemed you had been mistaken for her. Serves you right for having the audacity to pick up her shift when she was sick.

You had seen a few of them drop in on your way out, but never Red Hood. She probably told him not to catch you, since you would have reemed her for it. Red Hood wasn’t a criminal, but he was known for incurring their wrath like no one else, and that usually ended up in situations like this.

Yes, Kallista was going to die… so long as you made it out of this.

“Listen pal,” you started, glancing around the room for a way out. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

You weren’t a bad friend, and you certainly weren’t going to sick Roman Sionis on your friend. Even if she did get you in this situation in the first place.

“Don’t fucking lie to me!” He yelled, taking quick steps towards you. You winced back, hearing the flick of a switchblade, and feeling the cold press against your cheek.

“Listen, if I was associating with the Red Hood, I would have told you by now.”

“For some reason, I just don’t believe you.”

“Well well well, look what the cat dragged in,” A voice echoed through the warehouse. From above, you could see the familiar brown leather jacket, and bright red helmet of the Red Hood. He was reclined against a support beam, legs dangling off the one he was sitting on. “I’m going to be honest with you, I wasn’t planning on rescuing anyone today, but it looks like my plans just changed.”

Hopping down from the beam, he landed, knees bent, feet light. It was almost impressive, the way he could silently drop. If you weren’t so tired, you might have taken the time to marvel at the way his pants bunched and stretched. Kallista was right after all, there was a certain appeal to the vigilantes in uniform.

Roman shifted around you, knife going to your neck. You took in a sharp breath, glaring at the Red Hood as he faltered in his pace.

“Take another step and she dies,”

“I was gonna say thanks for coming, Hood,” You glared, “but you’ve kinda made the situation worse.”

You could almost see the tick of annoyance through the mask. His fists clenching slightly, he grumbled, “This is the thanks I get?”

“I’ll thank you when I don’t have a knife to my jugular.”

Black Mask tightened his grip on you, knife digging in a slight bit. You didn’t think it had pierced skin yet, but you couldn’t be sure.

The next few seconds seemed to go by in an instant. The shattering of glass, the whizzing of something through the air, the knife nicked your neck, then was gone, and so was the grip of Roman Sionis.

Red Hood moved towards you, gloved hands untying the ropes that kept you bound to the chair. You looked to the side, seeing Black Mask passed out on the ground, a strange arrow sticking to the outside of his helmet. You could have sworn you saw little strings of electricity still moving over the black material.

The masked vigilante hoisted you from the chair, his arms slipping behind your back and beneath your knees.

“Seriously?” You deadpanned, “I can walk, you know. My legs aren’t broken.”

It didn’t seem like he cared, as he scoffed, “I still haven’t heard a thank you.”

“I didn’t think heroes were so egotistical.”

“Not really a hero, sunshine,” you could hear the smile in his voice, even through the strange effect his helmet gave off. You went stiff at the name.

Jason faltered mid step, and you knew you had him. Spewing a flurry of curses, you wriggled out of his hold and onto the gravel below. The rocks bit into your skin, and Jason moved to crouch and help, but you were already up and slapping at his arm.

“You son of a bitch, Jason,” you whisper shouted, “you’re so stupid. How long have you been the- no, I don’t want to know.”

“Sunshine-”

“Don’t you sunshine me, Todd,” you growled, “You didn’t think to tell me you were a fucking vigilante? And moreover, you were getting free drinks from my coworker while she ranted to me about your thighs?”

“What?” Jason asked, shaking his head. “No, no, I wasn’t… I was looking out for you! I was trying to make sure you got home safe! What about my thighs?”

You paused, mouth hanging open. You hadn’t known Jason for very long. He had come in during one of your shifts with a busted lip and a dazzling smile, and left with your number and the promise of a date. You should have guessed back then, if you were being honest, but you believed him when he said he had gotten jumped. Maybe he had been telling the truth, just not the whole truth.

Stalling so that you didn’t give in to his guilty look so easily, you glanced around. So it had been the ocean you were hearing. You turned back around, trying and failing to hold the vicious glare.

“You better have a ride back to my apartment, cause we are about to have a long talk about impulse control, honesty, and the art of picking battles.”

“You sound like my dad.”

Silence.

“OH MY GOD IS BRUCE WAYNE-”

#Jason Todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd oneshot #jason todd fanfiction #dc

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an-android-child · 1 year ago

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Hello! I am procrastinating and autistic, so I'm gonna refute the rebuttal, if you don't mind. Please, don't take anything personal. I do not know you and I'm not judging you as a person. With that out of the way, let's begin:

"However, 2 is where most of the discourse seems to be happening. Your argument is that Jason doesn't have the right to ask that that of Bruce. I do actually disagree on that point, both more generally because I think children are allowed to ask things of their parents that a peer shouldn't ask of another peer, and more specifically I think a close reading of Jason's original '80s Robin run shows a Bruce that would've been more willing to grant his request." Parents are still human beings who deserve to have boundaries respected. Just because someone is a parent doesn't mean the child deserves to take away their one boundary to force them to do something against their will. We're not talking about Jason wanting a hug and Bruce having touch aversion, we're talking about Jason telling him to kill a man or watch him kill a man. Also, about that other point, I have no words to explain how much him granting that request would have ended him as a person. In every universe he gives in and kills the Joker he's unable to rationalize himself from stopping, because once he has already crossed the line, he can cross it again, and again, and now everyone is safe and no one will die and who cares if he's alone or if he's an enemy to the Justice League, or who cares if he'll kill without thinking if the person deserves a second chance. Once committed the crime there's no going back. Everytime he starts killing, he stops trying to rehabilitate the crooks. He becomes disillusioned, he decides this is the way Jason would have wanted this. So, no, I do not believe 80's "even rapists deserve to face a fair trial, and if that doesn't work it's a societal problem we have to fix instead of just simply killing off the guy" Batman would have given in. He would have wanted to, he may have even almost given in because he tended to be quite emotional and impulsive, like it happened in canon, but I'm completely sure that if he actually did it, it would have killed him. Jason would have come back to a ghost or to a grave.

"2 (If Bruce won't kill the Joker, then Jason will.) is hardly more kind, but I do think it is an important element people don't actually address when they talk about this moment. Jason isn't necessarily asking Bruce to kill; he's asking for him to bear witness. It's a halfway point. It's still unacceptable to Bruce, which is allowed. But it is a significantly more complex moment." Bruce has raised that boy so he would be better than him, so he could experience the happiness he never truly could. The only reason he didn't kill the Joker was because Clark convinced him Jason wouldn't have wanted that. He didn't even care about starting WWIII. Hell, child!Jason wouldn't have wanted that: He didn't mind Two-Face as a child (or even as an adult) after he killed his bio dad (maybe that has been retconned actually, comics are weird). Watching people kill has been exactly what created Batman. His disgust for guns and killing has been a core trait of the character for decades, and the fact that Jason would make him watch him, the son he grieved and failed, kill someone he has always wanted dead, would be incredibly traumatizing, to say the least. It's not as complex of a situation, because Bruce would never live with himself knowing he could have prevented Jason from becoming a killer. Because when Dick killed the Joker and started struggling with guilt, the one that made everything in his power to bring the man he hates most in the world back was Bruce. And it was out of love.

"Bruce violently imposes his own boundaries on Jason. They're both pretty awful to each other in this moment. I love it." With a hand over my heart, I think someone is a little bit more awful here, and the other is a little bit more justified. We're using comic context here, right? Jason has almost killed Tim, Bludhaven has blown up and is swimming in radioactive waste with Dick still in it, and Jason is purposefully taunting Bruce about the fact that he won't be able to save another son again, because he's forcing him to stay right there, with him and the kidnapped Joker. He's the one forcing him to stay here and every minute that passes is a minute Dick can die, which I would say it's a bit more unethical. Also, I'm pretty sure Bruce was trying to get away as fast as possible. I'm not even sure he wasn't expecting Jason to dodge, like he had already done before, but I digress. He needed to find his first son quick, he needed to save him and as many people as he could, but instead he was in a warehouse full of bombs with his dead child telling him to watch him kill or to kill somebody. With a gun. That's like, one of Scarecrow's hallucinations levels of fucked up.

"I think I generally agree, but I disagree that Batman can or should be considered a single person." Batman is a man. I know, I know he tries to create an idea, a symbol. The symbol literally means there will always be second chances, no matter what. But underneath that, Batman will always be Bruce Wayne, will always have seen his parents gunned down in an alley, and will always try to stop bullets from hitting anyone else, no matter what. That's Batman, too.

"Batman is a self-appointed vigilante. He is not beholden to literally anyone. He regularly transgresses upon other people's rights. He is functionally a public figure free of any oversight. People are allowed (and ought to) demand better of him. No one owes Batman the benefit of the doubt or personal consideration because he rarely grants those things to others." One word: GCPD. Another word: Justice League. These two powerful organizations have held him accountable plenty of times. Hell, he has a team full of people who will hold him accountable, as shown numerous times, even in the infamous Gotham War. He's not a figure free of oversight, he's basically a cop, but if a cop actually got the job done and didn't kill (a fantasy indeed, at least at the time this was written). And, if I may agree he doesn't grant the benefit of the doubt to a lot of people, he did grant it to Jason Todd, the man we're talking about, when he may or may-have-not killed Felipe. So, this is definitely not a fair argument in this context.

"Now, whether "demanding better" encompasses "demanding that he kill" is a different question. I think, within the world of the comics, Batman as self-appointed arbiter of justice being permitted to do everything he does, but having his no-killing rule respected because "he's just a man" is sort of not tenable, because Batman isn't a man, he's an idea, and I don't think he can be both." It's in the name. If he's an idea, the idea is redemption, vengeance for the innocent, but he will always be a man first. There are countless stories of Bruce having to come to terms with this simple fact: that he's just a man. And this man wants to do good, and he wants to save as many as he can, and he wants to give second chances, because if he can reform just one person, if he can help just one civilian, then it doesn't matter all the pain that he has to go through. It's not only tenable, it's the only thing that doesn't make him an actual cop, or a tyrannical murderer.

"I think Bruce Wayne not killing because he personally doesn't want to is compelling and interesting; I just don't think it's really ethically justified?*" In a world where the Joker has seen himself rehabilitated countless times (even if he relapses) is it fair to just kill him without lawyer or judge? In a world where Bruce decides if someone will take a life, it will be with an electric chair, after a fair trial, because he won't be judge, jury and executioner, in what world is that not an ethical position? Yes, yes, the Joker always escapes because the Joker needs to sell, but Bruce has given money to the asylum countless of times, has made it as humane and high-tech as his billionaire's money allows him to. And that's the thing, the Joker is always sent to a mental facility because he's incredibly dangerous, but also because he's mentally unwell (how unwell, depends on the writer or reader), and so people can try to get him the help he needs. How is this an unethical position for Batman to take? Hell, Commissioner Gordon only trusts him because he never kills, because he knows he tries to give everyone a fair chance. Batman at his core is compassion, and many writers forget that.

"All that said, I mainly replied because I think you're working from an ethical framework that's highly individualistic. I think that makes sense for discussing Bruce & Jason in UtRH, but I don't think it works for Batman, The Vigilante or for Bruce Wayne, The Public Persona or for Bruce Wayne, The Parent.**" At the end of the day almost all moral is individualistic because all moral concepts come from the minds of individuals, if that's what you meant. But also English is like, my third language, so I might be jumping the gun here. Also, all of those masks make the man that is Bruce Wayne, the man who has watched his son die because he was too late, his other son get beat up almost to death, and is now seeing his first son get blown up in a radioactive explosion while the son who died is taunting him and telling him to traumatize himself even more by letting someone die where he could have prevented it, or letting his son become what he fears most. So.... yeah.

"I'm sort of troubled by the insinuation that billionaires don't owe their communities anything. I mean, I know that's basically libertarianism, and if you're a libertarian then we're just going to have to disagree but: Bruce Wayne, billionaire, is not legally obligated to do any of what you mentioned (and canon is very inconsistent on if he actually does) but the idea that someone with a literally unfathomable level of wealth isn't ethically responsible for giving back to his community is weird to me. Even ignoring real life logic, which states there's no way Bruce could have that wealth in an ethical way, having that kind of money creates, imo, a moral imperative to help people." Bruce Wayne canonically gives to charity a ton of money, tries to create as much change as a billionare as he can, and the only reason Batman exists is because he realized he can't really help the middle man as a philanthropist as much as he could by being there in person. But Bruce, very consistently, gives back to Gotham constantly. I don't understand what is your point here. Bruce The Persona, as you called it, very much is a billionare playboy who only makes public apparances when charities are involved, and who gives and gives without second thought, whose whole company is full to the brim with ex-convicts and street people because he tries to hire as many as he can so they can afford an honest living. Hell, he even pays college tuitions and has pretty good healthcare plans, but that, of course, will depend on what continuity you consider canon. But, even with that, the constant is always the same: He donates, at least, large quantities without second thought.

"Additionally, I'm extra troubled by your saying "he didn't have to agree to cars for several angry, reckless, and bitter kids with death in their hearts" because like. That's a really weird way to frame his adoption of ... most of the kids." I'm pretty sure OP didn't mean it literally, but more like he could have not helped any of his kids and just let the authorities or assorted Wayne-paid subsidiaries deal with them. But, as we know, he's a bleeding heart to the core, so of course he decided to help the only way he knew how to. I don't see your point about it being a weird statement, so I'll assume it's simply a personal opinion phrased as fact.

"I think Bruce wanted to help his kids. I also think he wanted to help himself, (NOTE: while I do see what you mean, he has explicitly said multiple times he wanted his children to turn out better than he did, which is exactly why he took them. It's not as clear-cut as you make it seem) and it's weird to frame his taking in of Jason (post-crisis) as a selfless desire when he admits in Batman #416 that it's at least in part because he misses Dick." I wouldn't say all his motivations are selfish, because he states multiple times post-crisis he wouldn't leave Jason's side if he ever decided to stop being Robin, and that he'd always be there for him. He was more closed-off, less talkative (because we started with the arguments in this universe), but Bruce was very much against taking Jason in at the beginning (the whole Ma Gunn incident) and also him being Robin at first (he spent half a year training).

"It's even a weirder argument to make for Tim, who explicitly offers himself up to a grown man in A Lonely Place of Dying as a replacement goldfish since Bruce can't cope with Jason's loss." I think that's an incredibly oversimplification of what Bruce was going through, and of what Tim was truly offering. Bruce was not in a good place, and Tim decided to help by asking for Dick. Dick set a boundary, and Alfred decided to entrust way too much responsability in a very young person. I don't appreciate the dismissive tone of what is one of the more interesting takes on grief in the DC, at least in my opinion. Bruce is struggling, Bruce is passively suicidal. His enabler, Alfred, basically hires Tim to keep him afloat, something Bruce was so against at first that it took Tim saving his life for him to consider it, and even then he wasn't that ok with it. Hell, Tim didn't even do any field work 'till his Mother's funeral passed. That's a lot of months with nothing but training and comms duty (and it would have been longer if not for Scarecrow and Tim proving himself once again, against Bruce's wishes, but I digress). They formed a relationship with time: from boss and employer, to lifeboat and drowning man, to colleagues, to friends, to father and son, with all the tumultuous things that come with that rollercoaster of a relationship. They have a very complex one, and an incredibly interesting one.

"For Bruce's other canonical kids, Cass is mostly cared for by Barbara, explicitly does not have death in her heart, and is pretty poorly treated by Bruce." Once again, depends on the run. I've read Batgirl 2000, and I can see what you mean, even though I'm one of the few people who's very against the idea of Barbara as a mother figure (no, not all women who are caregivers or who try to help someone young need to be a mother, sometimes things can be messy and still be ok, but that's more of a personal opinion on the idea of maternity as something all women should aspire to or end up in) but for what I've read, I'm not exactly sure what you mean when you say "treated poorly". He has troubles comunicating, yes, but he never did truly go out of his way to treat her bad, even tried to give her the choice of reconnecting with Cain without as much as a second thought, and has had her best interest at heart multiple times, if not a bit overprotective. He was closed off and wasn't good at talking, but they had an understanding of each other thanks to Cass' unique abilities, and they're arguably the most similar of the bunch. I truly don't know what you mean. Maybe you meant when they sparred because he didn't know how to talk to her and knew this was the only way she knew how to talk, and when she told him that was what his abusive father also did he stopped? He's a very decent father to her, I can't think of many instances, at the moment, but I could do more research later.

"I can't speak to Duke because I haven't read his run, and Damian is his biological kid so yeah, he actually did have to be responsible for him." I would say he's pretty good with Duke, and as someone who's seen some friend's families... I can tell you blood can only do so much. If he hadn't wanted, he would have been in his "right", be it as morally questionable as you may think it is, specially because the child was hidden from him for ten whole years (if we go by Morrison canon, then there's an even bigger and valid reason). It would have been a complicated situation, but I think I get what OP truly meant.

"If you're counting Steph, who can go either way since she's not officially adopted, Bruce is super weird and awful to her." I have this whole meta in the drafts that's a three part long text BUT I haven't finished it, so meanwhile I'll link two of my favourite metas: the first and the second.

"Like I'm sort of not sure why you even brought the kids up (NOTE: probably because we're talking about one of them), or brought them up in that way,(NOTE: probably as a way to mention offhandedly one of Bruce's defining character traits: a strong, sometimes misplaced, sense of responsibility) because while Bruce does want to help his kids, his relationship with all of them is constantly motivated by a mixed desire to help, control, project, and mold. His impulses towards most of them are often rather selfish because he had trouble getting out of his own head and he is canonically a sub-par parent at best." I actually agree with this point, but i don't believe he's a sub-par parent... then again, it depends heavily on the writer and continuity. He has done very horrible things in different canons, and it is confusing to keep track, but I do find it more interesting when good intentions simply backfire, than just sheer selfishness... which I guess it could be debated isn't always the main motivator. I would actually say his paranoid nature and need to protect are much bigger setbacks as a parent, more than the sheer need to mold and project. But then again, i'll assume this is an opinion stated as fact, again.

"1. Public figures, especially vigilantes, do not get to set interpersonal boundaries the same way regular people do." A person does not stop being a person just because they're famous or a law enforcer, specially if that boundary is: I won't kill people and I will let criminals be judged by the justice system.

"2. Wealthy people have, in my own ethical formulation, a moral imperative to use their wealth for good." This is a moot point. Bruce Wayne already does that in all main continuities, as far as I'm aware.

"3. Parents absolutely owe their children more than the bare minimum. I do not think that extends to committing murder for them, but I do think Bruce taking in kids when he doesn't have to doesn't prove much about his moral character." The only thing it proves is that he wants to help, and that he cares for them somewhat, be it for better or for worse. And, again, this is a moot point. You say it yourself, the bare minimum does not extend to crossing your one and only boundary.

"4. I think I understand your point about boundaries and I think they're reasonable on an interpersonal level, but fail to take into account hegemonic power structures and social expectations." Talking about crossing boundaries, Jason has already done that a few times, and that is barely discussed in your argument. If I may add, from a moral standpoint, I believe Bruce has an ethical reason not to kill the Joker, just because Jason has stomped on so many lines with him over and over again since he came back (antagonizing, beating and almost killing his loved ones, using a friend's daughter's rape against her, stealing his company, killing people and showing him the bodies, forcing him to choose between killer or spectator, forcing him not to go save his son from dying, and I think I'm missing a few). I think you fail to see that if someone had power over the situation, it was the one with the trigger.

TL;DR: Your whole argument seems to need to depersonalize the man behind the mask, to make him just a symbol so that his one and only boundary, that comes from very deep trauma, can be torned off and used against him. I don't think there's a good resolution for a conflict like this, and that's exactly why I love it. But there are wrong choices. Bruce killing and Bruce doing nothing would be devastating for him. And that deserves to be taken into consideration.

If someone has burned all the bridges, it wasn't Bruce this time.

Jason Todd is my favourite character in all of DC but:

If someone doesn't want to kill, you can't ask, tell, or expect them to kill for you

Or, you can, but you'd be a complete asshole. The only time those expectations are valid is when a person signed up for a job where killing is expected (e.g. the military).

But as we all know, Batman is not the military nor the police. He only has one rule—or only one rule he truly cares about—and that's to not kill.

And frankly, I don't care what his reasons are for that; the bottom line is that he doesn't want to kill and we should respect it. Because at the end of the day, when you take a life, you're the one who's fully responsible for it. You're the one who has to live with it. And because of that, nobody should force you to do it.

Look, like I said, Jason Todd is my favourite character too. But that doesn't mean I don't find it disturbing or unfair when he expects Bruce, and only Bruce, to kill the Joker for him.

Do I find it understandable and human? Of course! Jason died horribly and gruesomely to a madman who'd do the same to anyone else so long as he finds it funny enough. It's only natural for him to want and expect someone—especially his father, the one he loved the most and the one he'd been searching through the thin crack of the door for even as the countdown struck zero—to put an end to the clown permanently, but. Does that mean he should? Absolutely not, and I think it's straight-up awful that so many people in this fandom encourage this take.

And the kicker is, if Catherine was still alive, if Catherine was the sort to become a vigilante and this happened to the both of them, do you think Jason would have the same expectations for her? I bet not. Not because he's sexist, but because Bruce is Batman and we take Batman for granted.

Yeah, you heard me. We take him for granted. We expect too much out of him.

This has been a slow-coming realisation, but it comes after a particularly harrowing conversation with my sister during which she told me that I was taking her for granted and I surprised myself by agreeing with her. I won't go into the nitty gritty details but what I took away from the conversation was that just because someone can do something, and you yourself would do that something for them, that does not mean you should automatically expect them to do the same for you—especially if it goes against their character and what they stand for.

This goes the same for Bruce. Just because he's capable of murder and is justified in doing it, that does not mean that he should do it if he doesn't want to. And just because Jason would do it for him if the reverse happened, that still does not mean he should do it if he doesn't want to (which Bruce would have never asked for anyway because that's just not part of his character). No matter their similarities, Jason and Bruce are two completely different people and they can't be expected to do and choose the same things.

Batman, of course, chooses to take responsibility for many, many things, most of which are completely optional. He's a billionaire, he doesn't have to help his city by spending his nights saving people, facing the worst the city has to offer, and risk his life and sanity on the daily. He's the CEO of one of the most wealthy companies in the world, he doesn't have to uplift his city by donating to orphanages, hospitals, and charities, creating programmes to help the youth, the poor, the disabled, ex-convicts, and other minorities, as well as funnel any struggling person he encounters to his company so that they can be assured of a job. He was a single and free man, he didn't have to agree to care for several angry, reckless, and bitter kids with death in their hearts.

All of the shit he does is completely optional! Yet, the one thing he explicitly chooses not to do, the one thing he absolutely refuses to take responsibility for and takes great pains to avoid, is killing.

And I get it, this is murder we're talking about here. You can't just expect people to be just okay with doing that, even if that person is a demented dude in a bat costume.

Actually, why are we expecting so much out of such a person? Cause Batman can do anything? Cause Jason is his son and Gotham is his city? Cause if given half a chance, we wouldn't let Jason down? Cause if something happened to us, we hope that we mattered enough to someone for them to avenge us, no matter if doing so would completely destroy them? Tear them apart from the inside-out? No matter that we're already dead and they'd have to live the rest of their lives like that?

Just something to think about.

At any rate, I think it's wrong to look at someone and expect them to kill for you. If Gotham wants Joker gone, they're just gonna have to do it themselves cause expecting a volunteer to do this extra shit they never asked for and explicitly does not want to do is more than just appalling.

It's cruel.

#meta #dc meta #dc comics meta #comic meta #can't believe i care this much about batman #maaaaan this was long #jason todd #bruce wayne #under the red hood #utrh #utrh meta #dc #dc comics #fandom meta

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soulmate-game · 4 years ago

Text

Useful Part 2

fluff with a little hurt and comfort. If you want answers as to the lack of angst, look through my recent posts for an explanation.

—* — * — * —* —*

“Wait, you have a WHAT?” were the first words that the rest of the Gotham-based vigilantes heard when they finally were able to track down where Damian had gone. Dick looked over at Bruce, who was noticeably tense. No surprise there, the man had just found out that he had a second biological child. One who was apparently a superhero already, without his intervention, and also apparently had a tragic background in the League of fucking Assassin Assholes. Not to mention that Damian’s track record with meeting siblings wasn’t great, even if this one wasn’t actually new to him. Nobody had any real fear of Damian relapsing on his no-kill rule, they knew he had matured far too much to be at risk of killing for something as immature as sibling rivalry anymore.

But there was still fear. Because this new Wayne was an Unknown Factor, and as a rule the Bats hated Unknown Factors. And they had no idea what the relationship between the two had been before they had been separated, or what it would become now.

“That wasn’t Damian’s voice,” Dick helpfully pointed out the obvious. Bruce only frowned, doing his best (and failing) to hide his anxiety about what they would find. Silently, the group inched forward to the edge of the abandoned building they were on top of so that they could look over at what was happening. What they saw was a girl, presumably the same one who had been in a ladybug onesie and had fearlessly begun to ask them to leave Paris— until she had laid proper eyes on Robin and fled, that was. That girl was sitting down next to an unmasked Damian, who had his arm around her shoulders and let her lean into his side. He even smirked cheerfully at her question before continuing to speak to her.

“A dragon-bat. I knew you’d love hearing about him, I’ll introduce you when you come visit the Batcave. His name is Goliath,” Damian admitted smugly. Despite the familiar attitude and pride behind his words though, his spying family couldn’t help but notice that he kept periodically rubbing the girl’s (they really needed to find out her name) shoulder in reassurance. None of them missed the tear tracks on both of their faces, or how red the girl’s eyes were. Clearly they had missed something big.

But nobody wanted to try to figure that out yet. This scene was too precious, too breathtaking for them to interrupt just yet. They had never seen Damian this vulnerable around someone outside of their little circle before, someone from the Time Before Bruce, no less. Most of the time, only Nightwing was able to see this side to Damian. And usually the roles were reversed, with Damian being the one consoled. They had never seen him in the position of the comforter before. The pillar of support.

It really cemented just how far he had come.

So they watched silently as the girl flinched, pulling away a bit and hunching in on herself. The laugh she let out was small and overflowing with self-degradation.

“You make it sound as if the rest of your family actually wants me to visit,” she replied sourly. Damian gently cuffed her over the head, frowning.

“Two things,” he held up two fingers from his free hand. “One: They will. They accepted me, and I was— well, you remember how I used to be. Once they actually meet you, and process the fact that there’s another Wayne now, they will bombard you with more welcoming than you will know what to do with. Two: It’s Our family, Marinette. Not mine, ours.”

Well, at least they had a name now. But it seems like they had bigger issues now, like Marinette’s clearly damaged sense of self. Jason and Tim traded knowing glances; it wasn’t hard for them to guess where, or how, she might have been damaged enough to think so lowly of herself.

They watched as Marinette shook her head.

“I don’t know. It’s one thing to try to… to get to know you again. We used to be close before… everything,” she haltingly argued, voice small and frail and uncertain. But she never once looked away from Damian’s eyes, trying to convey as best as she could what she was feeling. “But they’re different. They don’t have any reason to trust or like me, Dami. And I’m bad at, well everything, but especially,” she waved her hands frantically as if indicating the whole situation they were in. “I mean, listen to me! I can barely articulate right now, and I’m talking to someone I’ve known my whole life! I’m a mess. Nobody wants a mess.”

It was Damian’s turn to snort, and he pulled her right back into his side. “Please. If anything, that’s exactly the type of child Father goes looking for. We’re all a mess. Especially Father, trust me.”

“You’re just trying to make me feel better,” she accused suspiciously, but sank into his sideways embrace anyway. Damian chuckled.

“No, I’m being honest. He’s terrible at emotions, not that I really have much room to talk. We all are pretty bad with them. But he’s the most obvious when it comes to that issue,” Damian smirked over at his sister conspiratorially. “For example. He still tries to tell people that he works alone, and pushes people away because he has this intense desire to protect, but doesn’t know how to say “I don’t want you to get hurt, stop worrying me,” so instead he says “Go away, I don’t need you,” only for us to see through that nonsense and remind him that the amount of people in his team is in the double digits already. He doesn’t want to admit he cares about us and is vulnerable—”

“Sounds familiar,” Marinette teased with a watery grin, startling a short laugh from her twin. He nudged her a little roughly (but not to roughly) and playfully glared at her. Marinette just giggled.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he lied with a grin before waving his free hand in dismissal. “Anyway. Another example. He has no idea how to tell a stranger, “hey, I’m your father and I will not reject you. In fact, I’m completely willing to adopt you right this moment and whisk you away to Gotham and relative safety and hire an entire team of therapists to help you and buy you half the world if you asked for it,” so instead he and the rest of our emotionally constipated family just lurks on the edge of a building in broad daylight eavesdropping on us and expects us not to notice.”

“Wait what,” Marinette’s gaze instantly whipped up towards the sky, taking only half a second to locate the aforementioned eavesdroppers. Everyone except Bruce at least had the courtesy to duck down and pretend not to be there when they noticed she had seen them, leaving Batman standing seemingly alone on the concrete roof. Marinette blinked once. Twice. Then turned to Damian. “I’m gonna blame the fact that I didn’t notice them on emotional turmoil, because there is no way I’ve gotten THAT rusty.”

Damian smiled, but didn’t laugh. He knew that was a deflection to try and distract from Marinette’s quickly resurging self-consciousness. Her hands were already trembling again, and the fear from only minutes ago had resurfaced. The insecurity. He could practically see the words “I’m not good enough,” written in her irises.

“You’ll be fine,” he whispered, standing up and pulling her with him. “If anyone has to worry here, it’s me.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Marinette whisper-hissed right back, eyes wide in disbelief and confusion. “You’re— You! Mister Perfect!”

Damian rolled his eyes, and his self-deprecating smirk matched the laugh Marinette had given just a few minutes earlier. “For the League, maybe,” he shrugged. “Never the Wayne family. Which is why I know you’ll be fine. If they put up with everything I’ve done and still call me one of them, they’ll accept you with barely a second thought.”

Marinette’s next argument was cut off by the sound of a dozen soft footfalls stirring up dirt not far ahead of them. The BatClan had landed from the rooftop.

Marinette gulped.

But if there was one thing— one thing she still remembered from her days as Marie Al-Ghul, it was how to fake pride and confidence. She straightened her shoulders automatically, lifted her chin, and pulled away from Damian’s supporting arm around her shoulder. Damian let her.

A little bit of old resentment flared up in him as he saw Batman walk up close enough to comfortably talk with them. Resentment that he no longer held onto, but that had haunted him nearly every night of the first two years he spent with his dad. The realization that maybe his twin was the one that was meant to be a Wayne. Marie had the blue eyes, the compassion, the more specifically detective-oriented mind. The calm head. Sometimes. Marie was exactly who he imagined when he thought of a naturally born member of the BatClan. Stubborn, clever, morally just. She had risked immediate death just because she refused to fight him, for crying out loud. Because she didn’t want to hurt the boy who used to be her best friend. The only ally she had ever had, growing up.

Meanwhile, he still had issues reigning in his anger sometimes. He had too much blood on his hands, he was more of a battlefield tactician than a long-term strategist. Still stubborn, but also completely unaware of the pain he brought others with his words or actions a lot of the time. He used to be such a rage fueled little demon, and thinking about how his sister fit the classic Wayne outline more thoroughly than he did had made him destroy more than a few practice dummies in frustration.

But now, looking at Marinette trying so hard to appear strong and proud when he knew she was still so shattered inside, relief overpowered the old and dull resentment. This was what she needed, he could sense that easily. She, just like him all those years ago, needed Bruce and the others to start to heal her and reforge what the League had badly molded.

“... Marinette, I suppose?” Damian nearly facepalmed at his father’s awkward attempt at a conversation starter. Marinette herself was clearly too keyed up and overthinking things to even register any amusement at the lame attempt, merely nodding with an overly serious expression on her face.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Monsieur Wayne. Or that’s my name nowadays, that is,” She stumbled a little in her response before clenching her fists and forcing herself to continue as calmly as she could muster up. “My birth name was Marie Al-Ghul.”

Bruce’s eyebrows visibly furrowed underneath his cowl. “Was?”

“I…” Marinette finally looked away, shame creeping back onto her face. “I was explicitly told that I was stripped of the Al-Ghul name and would be killed if I ever dared lay claim to it again. So I not-so-legally changed it. And I was later adopted.”

Several sharp gasps or the hiss of breath through teeth bit through the quiet breeze. Nobody was necessarily surprised, Marinette could see it when she looked through her eyelashes and examined the winces and sympathy on the faces of the vigilantes before her. Batman’s shoulders were stiff, as if someone had paralyzed only his shoulder blades.

“And the people who adopted you?” Batman pursued. Marinette couldn’t read his tone very well, but it sounded vaguely angry so she quickly raised her hands in a placating gesture and her eyes widened significantly.

“They’ve been amazing! They don’t know anything about my past, or who raised me, but they are endlessly patient with me. I mean, honestly! Sabine caught me when I was trying to steal one of her gold bracelets in Hong Kong— and I know I’ve never been as good of a combatant as Dami, but I’ve always been better at sleight of hand and stealth so honestly that’s impressive— and she saw my dirty eight-year-old face and for some reason decided, ‘yeah I want this one as my daughter’ and roped Tom right into it and next thing I know they somehow tailed me to my hideout? I still don’t know how the hell they managed that, but Tom had a huge plate of steaming buns and I was so hungry and suddenly it’s two years later and I’m adopted and we’re on a plane to Paris—” Marinette threw up her hands. “I still don’t fully grasp what happened sometimes.”

She belatedly seemed to realize that she had just gone on an entire breathless rant at the speed of sound, and slapped her hands over her mouth before lunging into a deep bow. “I apologize! I spoke horridly out of turn!”

To her surprise though, she was met with a soft laugh instead of a scolding. She jerked in surprise, whipping her head up only to see Batman holding a hand over his chin to hide his large grin. It only took another second for the boys behind him to laugh a lot LESS softly. Nightwing strolled over casually and swung an arm around both her and Damian’s shoulders, playfully nudging her brother with his knee.

“I think she fits right in, don’t you little D?”

“Of course,” Damian scoffed, though his eyes were playful. “She is a Wayne by blood. She ‘fits in’ more than you strays.”

“Dami!” Marinette whipped back to him and puffed out her cheeks. “That was uncalled for!” she barked. Damian held his hands up in surrender.

“Relax,” he said as soothingly as he could manage. “They know I’m joking,” he dropped his hands and a knowing smirk took over his face. “And besides, now you’re relaxed so my plan worked,” Marinette could only blink at that. She… did feel more relaxed, actually. “Also. I told you you’d be accepted easily. They already consider you one of us.”

“Wha— there’s no way—” she frantically looked at each of the older men around her, but each of them just shot her a smile or grin and a short nod. Her shoulders and jaw both fell, and it broke a little of everyone’s heart.

Marinette looked so utterly shocked, bewildered to be accepted as if it was still something profoundly foreign to her. And there was that disbelief in her eyes, that distrust that screamed that she expected some sort of lie here. That told that she thought this would all crumble away at any second. If anyone had any reservations about bringing her into their inner circles, it vanished right that moment. She needed support, or she’d crumble away and they all knew it.

“How about we start by talking about the situation with Hawkmoth?” Red Robin spoke up, walking forward to stand beside Batman. “I assume that’s a little more in your element?”

Damian silently vowed to thank Tim later for that. In a silent, completely anonymous way of course. Couldn’t have Tim thinking they were friends or something now, could he? Marinette instantly straightened up and nodded, her confidence returning with a little more sincerity this time.

“Yeah. Yeah, let me transform again. It’ll be easier to explain.”

—*—*—*—*—*

It was three weeks later, on Marinette’s third now-weekly visit to the Batcave, when the question finally came up. Jason had asked to spar with Marinette for the first time, having seen her in action as Ladybug and wanting to test the girl when she didn’t have superpowers to rely on. Damian hadn’t been down in the cave to warn him, and the result was Jason’s gut sinking as Marinette scrambled as far away from him as she could, eyes wide and chest heaving in the beginnings of a panic attack.

“Shit,” Jason muttered before he quickly knelt down and did his best to talk her down, to calm her until her breathing slowed and her pupils were back to normal. It wasn’t long afterwards that Marinette started hugging herself, refusing to look at him. But he wasn’t going to just back down, he wanted to solve this issue. If even the mere suggestion of a spar was enough to set her off, he needed to figure out why and fix it.

So he carefully lowered himself so he was sitting only a foot away from her, resting his arms across his knees casually.

“Sorry,” he apologized. “Didn’t think it would be a sore subject. That’s on me.”

Marinette just shrugged, but didn’t answer him. She just buried her face in her arms and took a shaky breath.

Jason let the silence linger for a while before trying again. “Does this have to do with certain Asshole Assassins?”

That startled a slightly hysterical bark of laughter from her, and she had to wipe away a few tears when she raised her head and finally turned it in his direction slightly. Not enough for her to be looking at him, but just a subtle turn to show that she was listening and speaking to him. “Yeah.”

“You know, you never told us why you got disowned,” Jason tried to make his words as casual as possible, but wasn’t surprised when Marinette still stiffened and took a sharp breath. He didn’t push. The stage was set, and he’d wait until either she took the opportunity to open up or told him to leave well enough alone. Her tongue flicked out to wet her lips, and her foot tapped on the ground a bit. Clear signs of her anxiety around the subject, and Jason’s hopes vanished a little. He would probably have to wait longer for her to be ready to share.

But, to his pleasant surprise, he was wrong. She took another few minutes to gather her thoughts, but she did eventually open up to him.

“I refused to fight Damian,” she admitted. “It was… We were seven. It wasn’t supposed to be a fight to the death, but it was a very important spar. We were using live weaponry, and we were told to fight until we couldn’t anymore. Whoever fell first would be relegated as a mere soldier, and have to fight for status like any other assassin in the League. The winner would officially be named as G— as Ra’s Heir. I didn’t want to fight, because I knew Damian would win but I also knew that it wouldn’t be as easy as Ra’s probably expected if I gave it my all like he wanted. I knew both Damian and I would be heavily injured if I did as he asked, and it wouldn’t be worth it. If I misjudged anything, any single hit, I could have accidentally injured Damian permanently and ruined his worth in Ra’s eyes, and that wasn’t an option. I didn’t care that throwing the fight was as good as giving up my life, because at least I could be sure that Damian kept his. I could make sure that he was treated well, or as well as anyone could hope for in the League anyway. I could, with only a few words, make sure he became indispensable. Ra’s and Talia never liked me as much as Damian anyway, I figured… I figured it was nobody’s loss,” She swallowed heavily, clenching her eyes shut. “I was always just the spare. The extra. Damian was their crown prince, the one with actual value. Even to me. I saw him, and I saw everything I wanted to be. I… I tossed down my weapons and let him stab me, because I figured I owed it to him for being such a failure in comparison to him. That I owed it to him to do everything I could to make things easier for him, since I was just an unnecessary obstacle—” strong arms wrapped around her, and she turned to sob into Jason’s chest as he just silently held her.

“Idiot,” Damian whispered, making Marinette jump. Her twin sat only a few feet away, though only Jason would have known when exactly he had gotten there with them. He shook his head at her. “I never would have gotten as far as I did without you,” he whispered, looking up at the cave ceiling. “You were the only real rival I had. When you left, everything was either too easy or nearly impossible, nothing was the same as trying my best against someone who was just as good as me. And when I got here and met the others, I didn’t think any of them were worthy of taking your position, you know,” he scoffed a bit as he got lost in his memories. “That’s why I hated Tim for so long, I think. He reminded me of you so much that I wanted nothing more than to punch him for daring to replace you—”

“Heh, the Replacement twice over, huh?” Jason joked. Damian chuckled with a small eye roll.

“Plus, he just has a really punchable face,” Damian added, trying to distract from the emotion behind everything he had just admitted. “Part of me thought you were dead. The other part refused to believe that. And seeing Tim and how some of his mannerisms were the same as yours,” Damian shrugged a little. “It stung. Especially that second year, when I started to regret that you never had the chance to come here and join them with me. Meet them with me.”

Marinette sniffled. “... Who are you and what have you done with Dami? He’s never this sappy.”

Damian flicked a pebble at her head with a good natured glare, successfully diffusing the serious air a little. Marinette wouldn’t ever be normal, and it would take a while before she was no longer fragile, but she could get there. Especially now that her bridges with her brother had been mended, and and a whole new family had cropped up to help support her.

She was glad Damian had convinced her to try, again.

#maribat #platonic daminette #sibling daminette #bio!dad au #bio!dad bruce wayne #ml x dc #mlb x dc #Useful

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marauderundercover · 4 years ago

Text

Taking Chances Ch. 14: Back to Basics (De-Aged)

AO3

The constant attention after her temporary death was a little stifling. Adrien was good about not overwhelming her. He’d seen her take bad hits before and he knew (from personal experience) that the cure would bring the two of them back to normal. No, despite being there in person as she died, Adrien was not drowning her in attention. She was thankful.

Her family, despite her constant reassurances however, did not get the memo. That she was okay. That she would be okay. Now and in future attacks. No, instead they constantly blew up her phone. ESPECIALLY during akuma attacks. Which was one of the only times she didn’t even have her phone on her. But whatever. One good thing did come from her temporary death though. She was talking to her dad. Like, actually talking. The bonding kind of talking. He wouldn’t talk to her about hero stuff (though she imagined he also wanted to forget about her “death” seeing as it was the third time he’d seen the dead body of one of his children). No, instead they got to know each other. She asked about Bridgette, which led to her finding out about his fiance- Selina Kyle. Marinette was really looking forward to meeting her, hopefully next time she took a portal to Gotham.

They also talked about Marinette’s designs- Uncle Jagged, MDC, how the company started, where she wanted to go with the company. Most of their conversations stayed at the surface level of getting to know you, but they were definitely getting closer. Though, she thought that if he’d just talked to her about hero work already (or took her on another patrol), their bonding would happen more naturally. Less like twenty questions. Her brothers, though…

Her brothers were constantly asking questions about how she was, how she felt, if she was safe, if she was sure they couldn’t convince her to leave Paris. It was a lot. But still nice. Nice to know that they cared so much, even if her death was only temporary (as she’d tried to remind them a million times).

The whole “dying painfully and then being resurrected after the battle” thing also led to her and Adrien making a lot of plans. Different ideas and things to do in case of certain akumas, types of attacks, deaths, just a LOT of contingency plans. She’d filled Alfred in on some of the plans, since several involved that half of her family or running to Gotham. But she didn’t tell her brothers. Or her dad. No need to worry or stress them out more than they already were. So she moved on. For several weeks. An entire month passed without Hawkmoth using a nightmare inducing akuma. It was nice. --- Adrien Agreste was not having a good day. It wasn’t really anyone’s fault though. Well, okay that’s a lie. It was definitely his fault. He’d thought after his crazy declaration in Gotham, asking Mari out would be easy. Simple. It was not. All the times he’d said she was “just a friend” were definitely coming back to haunt him. Every single time he tried to ask her out, something happened. An akuma attack. Marinette fell. Emergency photoshoot. Mari dropped all of her stuff and was almost late to class. Lila got someone to confront Marinette about something. He suddenly had an extra fencing lesson with Kagami.

But no more. No. Even though today hasn’t exactly gone as planned (overslept, late for photoshoot which made him extra late for school, got permission to eat at school but forgot to bring his food and then Mari left lunch instead of staying because her brother called so he didn’t even get to see her, forgot his science homework- yeah, bad day) it would be better. Because now he’s walking over to Mari’s and he’s going to ask her out if it’s the last- The shrill blaring of the akuma alarm breaks him out of his thoughts. Really? Now? Groaning, he darts into an alley.

“I blame you.” He deadpans to Plagg, glaring at the kwami’s maniacal laughter.

“Sure kid, sure. You know Pigtails is crazy ‘bout you. Doesn’t mean anything that you can’t ask her out.” He says once his laughter dies down.

“I hope you’re right.” Adrien mumbles. “Plagg, claws out!” He smirks as he’s transformed, feeling a lightness he hasn’t felt all day. He immediately uses his staff to launch himself onto the roof, taking in his surroundings. No crazy weather. No giant stone monster or baby. Nothing flying around. Nothing looks out of the ordinary. Frowning, he retracts his staff to call Ladybug. It rings, but she doesn’t answer.

“Hey Bugaboo. Where should we meet? I don’t see anything unusual. Call me back.” He hands up and decides his best bet is to patrol around, keep an eye out for anything unusual. Just as he starts to think that maybe it was a false alarm, a red blob flies at him. He blinks.

“Chat! Follow me!” Tikki directs, whirling around and zooming away. Adrien’s heart sinks. Please let her be okay. I can’t watch her die again. Please. The words go on a cycle in his head as he runs behind Tikki, too worried to ask. He frowns when she dips down into an alley where someone- not Mari- is waiting.

“What’s going on?” He asks, completely confused.

“The akuma was able to get to Marinette before she could transform.” Tikki explains and Adrien frowns.

“Marinette? Are you- that’s Marinette?” He asks in bewilderment. The girl standing in front of him couldn’t be older than three.

“Unfortunately. The akuma can de-age people.” Tikki says with a sigh.

“Oh gosh, okay. Hi, I’m Chat Noir!” Adrien says, squatting down so that he’s eye level. He extends a hand, smiling at the girl.

“Kitty!” She giggles, throwing her arms around him.

“Oh, uh, hi.” He says, putting his arms around her and picking her up. He turns to Tikki.

“So is this one of those “take her to Mr. Wayne until the fight is over because she can’t be Ladybug right now” situations? Or a “hide her until this is all over” situation? We had a lot of plans. De-aging was not one of them.” Adrien asks.

“Take her to Mr. Wayne. This akuma is sneaky and we can’t risk Marinette revealing her identity.” Tikki says.

“What?” Adrien asks. How could a baby Mari reveal her identity?

“Adri, wanna cookie please.” Mari says with a pout. His jaw drops and she giggles, patting his face. “Silly kitty!”

“She still knows?” He asks, his voice jumping an octave as he panics. How much did she know? Did she still know everything about the other kwami and the other heroes and- oh god, her dad is Batman. Oh this could be bad. Very bad.

“Okay, nevermind that, where are the glasses? I’ve got to get her out of here before someone hears her tell everyone’s secrets.” Adrien says, suddenly understanding the entire situation.

“Here go!” Mari says, pulling glasses out of her purse. Adrien takes them with a forced smile and merges Plagg and Kaalki. Though the akuma didn’t appear to be deadly, it was going to be a long battle for just one person. Especially since this akuma was actually good at hiding. He makes the portal and steps through, scoffing at the immediate defensive stances from her brothers.

“I’ve been here before.” He reminds them, letting his transformation fall.

“Who’s the kid?” Jason asks, going back to his breakfast when he deems Adrien not a threat. Adrien grimaces.

“So, yeah about that...um, Plagg will explain.” He says, slipping the ring onto Mari’s finger and taking the earrings. Time to get out of this mess. --- Bruce blinks as Adrien leaves as quickly as he came, no explanation. Only a ring of light. He glances at the little girl and frowns. Based on pictures he’d seen, he’d guess the girl was Marinette. But his daughter was a teenager. Which meant this little girl couldn’t be Marinette. But then who-

“Daddy!” She squeals, finally looking at him with her bright eyes. She runs up to him and raises her arms. He blinks, unsure of what she wants. She huffs. “Up.” She demands. He picks her up, eyebrows furrowed as she squeezes him tightly.

“Marinette?” He asks, still confused. A loud cackling draws his attention to the tiny floating black cat at the other end of the table. Of course.

“Pigtails is gonna freak about this later.” He says with a snort.

“And you are?” Bruce asks, wary of the creature. It was definitely not hostile, Adrien did leave it here. But he was still uncertain of its intentions.

“Plagg. The black ca kwami. Akuma back in Paris hit her and you all are her safe house. If she’s unable to fight as Ladybug, someone is supposed to bring her here. The kid or her, if she can still use a Miraculous.” Plagg explains, glancing around. “Say, you got any cheese?” He adds, and just like that, the kwami is off-supposedly to find cheese in the kitchen.

“So- how does she know you if she’s this little? She’s gotta be like, three.” Dick asks with a frown. “You just met.”

“Cause I’m Batman!” Marinette says, mimicking his voice. Jason snorts.

“Sure Pixie, and I’m Ladybug.” He says, reaching over and ruffling her hair.

“No, I am!” She pouts, crossing her arms. “You can’t be, you’re Red Hood.” She adds. Tim- who had been silently sipping coffee- spits over the entire table.

“Good job Drake. Now breakfast is ruined for everyone.” Damian sneers.

“She knows! But she’s tiny! She shouldn’t-” Tim rants.

“It’s magic, Drake.” Damian says, cutting him off. “I am unsure of what you expect. Now, since breakfast is ruined, I will be taking Titus on a walk.” He adds, standing up and starting to leave. Bruce is barely able to stop Marinette from falling as she leaps from his lap and rushes to Damian.

“Can I come?” She asks with a wide smile. Damian hesitates, glancing at him. Bruce shrugs. “Can I come, please?” Marinette adds, sticking out her lip in a pout.

“Tt. I suppose you can come with.” He says with pursed lips. Marinette squeals, grabbing Damian’s hand and tugging him along. The sound of a camera shutter makes Bruce whirl around to see- of course. Dick had his phone out and was taking picture after picture, a wide smile on his face as the two walked away, Marinette babbling on about how cool superheroes are as they walk.

“Who would’ve thought we’d be able to get pictures of baby Mari with us!” He says cheerfully, looking down at his phone. Bruce stills. He could have pictures with one of his kids, as a baby. He glances over at Tim, trying to figure out a way to ask that wouldn’t be too weird. Was the request too weird?

“Don’t worry, B. Already on it.” Tim says, shaking his phone. “Got several pictures of your little hug situation.” He adds. Bruce nods. Still…

“Everyone in the parlor in five minutes. Make sure Alfred comes too. I’ll go get Damian and Marinette.” Bruce says, standing from the table.

“For what?” Jason asks, visually bristling at the orders. Though their relationship was getting better, it was still rocky. And it likely would be for years.

“A family picture.” Bruce says simply. They’d have to take another when Marinette is herself, but he wasn’t about to miss this opportunity. --- Damian Wayne was many things. A former member of the League of Assassins. The current, (and in his unbiased opinion, best) Robin, an animal lover, a brother and a son. He also enjoyed drawing, occasionally painting too. What he was not, was a babysitter. He did not enjoy small children. They often cried for no reason, talked too much and smelled odd. His sister, luckily, did not smell odd. Nor had she cried. She was, however, babbling incoherently. And smiling. Nonstop. It was odd, but not awful. Looking down at the small girl, he was suddenly struck with the awful memory of her death. Of the sword that- no. She was fine. She may be a toddler now, but she was still fine.

“And then, Chat was a bad guy.” She says as he tunes back into her words. He frowns. That’s odd.

“What do you mean?” He asks, sure he misheard her.

“Chat! His suit turned bad and the moon went boom!” She exclaims, gesturing with her hands to mimic an explosion. Why was there no footage of this?

“That sounds like a very bad dream.” He leads, certain that it was just one of her fears. He knew Marinette struggled with anxiety and doubted herself as a hero. Surely that’s all she was referring to. She shakes her head.

“Nu-uh. Not a dream.” She denies, frowning. He starts to ask for clarification, to try and help, when she squeals and runs forward, wrapping her tiny arms around Titus. Damian sighs. It was useless to attempt to have an actual discussion with her right now anyway. Perhaps later they could revisit the topic.

“Careful, Titus.” Damian says, slightly concerned for how the large dog would react to Marinette. He had never really been around small children before, and while he was nice, some dogs just disliked children. Not that Damian blamed them. Instead of knocking her down or growling at her though, Titus nuzzles into her. Gently pushing her along as they walk around the gardens. Damian feels his lip quirk up in a smile. Pulling his phone out, he takes a quick picture, certain Marinette would like to see it later. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices Father walking towards them swiftly.

“Father.” He acknowledges.

“Damian. We’re going to take some pictures together before she turns back.” Father says, glancing at Marinette who was giggling against Titus. She turns and notices the two talking, her smile growing even wider.

“Daddy!” She cheers, running forward and jumping into Father’s arms. Damian quirks an eyebrow at the uncharacteristically large smile on his father’s face. It was odd, but he also knew that his father regretted losing so much time with both him and Marinette. The others it was to be expected, but to not even have that time with his own blood children….

“Did you have fun with Damian, sweetheart?” He asks, and Damian blinks at the surprisingly soft tone. Very odd. He suddenly couldn’t wait for Marinette to turn back. He did not care for the sudden changes in his father.

“Yup! Dami showed me the flowers and the trees and Titus is so silly!” She rambles, nearly whacking Father in the face as she gestures wildly. Damian barely holds back a snort as he watches them.

“I’m so glad you had fun. Can we go inside now, there’s some things we want to do before you go back to Paris.” He explains. Marinette frowns, a pout replacing her large smile.

“I don’t wanna.” She whines, and Damian is shocked to see tears. Actual tears.

“Why don’t you want to go home?” Father asks, and the look on his face makes it obvious. He’s thrown.

“Tired.” She says, laying her head on Father’s shoulder. “Akumas are bad.” She adds.

“We’re going to help Marinette. You won’t be alone anymore. You and Chat Noir will both have help. We’ll figure this out.” Father assures her, holding her.

“Perhaps we could continue this conversation later, Father. You wanted to take pictures and there is no guarantee how long she will be...young.” Damian points out, making a mental note to also bring up the ‘Chat was bad’ scenario later.

“Er, yes. Let’s go. Come on honey, it’s okay. You’re still here.” Father says, turning and walking towards the house, quietly reassuring Marinette until she starts smiling again. While seeing his older sister younger than him was entertaining, Damian much preferred older Marinette. She had a better handle on her emotions. And though he would never admit it to her face, was also much more bearable in conversation. --- Jason was not fond of family pictures. Hell, he wasn’t fond of most things that involved family bonding. He’d been around more since they discovered Marinette, but that was mostly to make sure that Bruce didn’t fuck it up too badly. The kid was the most emotionally available one he had. She could do more than brood. And Jason was not about to let Bruce mess that up by being an asshole. So, sure, he’d been around more. But that didn’t mean he had to be in a family picture.

“I don’t wanna.” He argues, glaring at Dick who was trying to get him to come stand next to him. Dick, Alfred and Replacement were all coming up with poses will B got Demon Spawn and Pixie to come back inside. Jason wanted no part of any of it.

“Master Jason, this is a unique opportunity.” Alfred chastises. Jason rolls his eyes.

“I’ll join when he finds another kid.” He mumbles, trying not to sound too bitter. He wasn’t mad at Marinette, not at all. But being Bruce Wayne’s kid was a fucking recipe for disaster. Three of them had died (and come back). All of them were a vigilante or hero of some sort. None of them had a normal life. So as nice as it could be, being a kid of the Bruce Wayne, it was also a bit of a curse.

“Jay!” Marinette squeals, practically throwing herself from Bruce’s arms as they walk into the room. Jason lunges forward, catching her.

“Shit, Pix, you just about fell.” He swears, eyes wide as she giggles uncontrollably.

“Language.” Dick calls. Jason narrows his eyes, about to argue, when Marinette shifts in his arms. Oh yeah. She’s kind of tiny right now. Probably shouldn’t say anything too bad.

“Daddy says we’re gonna take pictures!” She says, grinning widely. Jason winces. Damnit Bruce.

“Really? Well, I’m sure you’ll have lots of fun.” He says, preparing to put her down so that he can dip out.

“We have to get a picture of just the kids too! Daddy says we’ll take more another day, but we gotta hurry.” She rambles, struggling in his arms to be let down. He sets her down, taken aback by how strong she is as she grabs his hand and tugs him behind the couch. Standing right next to Dick. Of fucking course.

“Pix, I don’t-” He tries to say.

“Nope. Picture time!” She cheers, running back to Bruce. Jason shakes his head. Of fucking course the Pixie was gonna get him to do some stupid shit he didn’t want to do. Of course. --- Alfred glances at the new pictures on the wall as he walks down to the kitchen. It had been a few days since Miss Marinette had left. A few days since he was able to see a genuine smile on Master Bruce’s face. The family had managed to get dozens of pictures and videos on that day, including a picture with himself, Master Bruce and the children. Glancing at the picture of just the children, all laughing and cuddled up on the couch, Alfred smiles. It was nice to have these pictures, pictures with genuine joy on his family’s face. Even if it happened because of a villain attack.

Master list

Tag list: @maribat-bdbwm @vixen-uchiha @stainedglassm @liquid-luck-00 @jayjayspixiepop @jjmjjktth @mizzy-pop @trippingovermyfeet @queenz-z @thepaceperson @iloontjeboontje @waiting247 @laurcad123 @toodaloo-kangaroo @ritacrow-blog @deathssilentapproach-blog @kittenmywaythrulife @nerd-nowandforever @tazanna-blythe @jaybird-and-co @jumpingjoy82 @imarivers8 @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks

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piedpiperart · 2 years ago

Text

Danny, maybe doing crime: what are you gonna do, arrest me?

Batman, holding adoption papers: no...

Danny:… honestly I’d rather you just arrest me

Danny: what is it with rich people thinking they can just adopt people? It's so ugh

The robins:

Batman, adoption papers mentally filled out: hm

#Danny already has to run from vlad and now he has to run from batman and this other guy named Bruce #he chooses to not go with any of them but is starting to have a hard time avoiding all three #they just seem to be everywhere #especially when Bruce Wayne’s kids get involved and try to convince him #and then the batkids try to bring him home #Danny is just trying to survive here #Bruce and Vlad get into a fight at a gala over danny #same when plasmius and Batman meet #Danny ends up moving in with some guy named Jason who may or may not be dead and after the third time jason cooks him dinner and makes him #go to bed early danny is just like fuck did Jason adopt me too??#dp x dc #dpxdc #dc x dp #Jason knows exactly what he’s doing and he’s gonna be a better dad than bruce AND Vlad combined just to rub it in their faces #and also because danny is just so small and he’s gotten attatched

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discocactusblogs · 4 years ago

Text

Heather- Jason Todd x Chubby Reader Pt.1

{Author's Note: _____ is a blank to put your name}

"Girl, just tell him!" Barbara whispered and nudged me towards my best friend, Jason Todd aka Robin, the boy wonder.

I had found out about him being Batman's sidekick when we were 13, shortly after he became Robin.

"Easy for you to say! Look at you! You're gorgeous! You're fit and thin and redheaded! Just look at me… I'm...not so fit... I'm chubby. I'm a plain bagel. I'm not ugly but I'm not exactly pretty either." I sighed and gestured to my chubby body.

" ______, I know what I'm telling you. Just tell him." She sighed. "Besides, you're gorgeous too! And very intelligent and mature for a fifteen-year-old!" Barbara smiled, holding up a banana like a wand.

"As if. What guy my age sees a girl and goes, 'What a lovely personality?' Get real Babs, no one wants a plain bagel." I shrugged.

"Welp, I gotta get going or I'll be late for work. But trust me, he won't turn you away." She turned away, obviously knowing something I didn't.

"Hey _____!" Jason spoke as he walked up to me from the curb of the grocery store, I had gone to buy some fruit my mom had told me to get.

"Hey Jay." I sighed with a slight blush on my cheeks.

"Are you okay? It's kinda cold today… Where's your jacket?" He asked, tilting his head to the side slightly.

"My jacket!" I gasped. "I forgot it at school!"

"School's closed now. They just locked the gate." He replied with a shrug.

"My mom's going to kill me. That's the only jacket I have!" My eyes watered, knowing my mother was going to be furious with me when I got home.

"Take mine then. I have others at home." He unzipped his hoodie.

"N-no. It's fine. I can get it Monday from school." I spoke softly while staring at the ground.

He draped his jacket over my shoulders. "I said, take it. Besides, it looks better on you than me. It goes well with your hair color. Here, let me hold your stuff so you can get it on." He smirked, knowing I wouldn't refuse if he spoke sternly with me. He took the bag from my hands and I looked at him. "Zip. It. Up." He frowned.

"Yes sir." I put my arms in the jacket and zipped it up. He was bigger and bulkier than I was, so the jacket fit me rather loosely and was down to my mid thighs but it was comfortable and warm. Much warmer than the jackets and sweaters I had before.

"Hm… keep it. I know your dad hasn't been working a lot lately. It gets pretty cold so you can keep that one. Bruce got me some others at home. Just don't tell anyone, got it? I only share with you because I've known you since we were kids. You took care of me so I'm taking care of you." He looked at me, handing back the bag of fruit. "Now, don't think I'm getting soft or being a gentleman. You're still carrying your stuff." He smirked.

I smiled and chuckled. "Thanks." I took the bag and walked down the street with him.

"Hi Jason!" An annoying voice called out from the ice cream shop.

"Hm? Oh, hey Heather." Jason turned around and seemed slightly irritated.

"Are you going to the pep rally tonight?" Heather asked with fluttering eyelashes. She was Jason's girlfriend.

Dark hair, slim figure, bright eyes, how could I compete with that?

"Uh, no." He replied flatly.

"Why not, I'm going to be performing!" She countered.

"I'm just not feeling it. I don't like pep rallies." He shrugged. "Not my thing."

"Okay then. Wanna get some ice cream?" She asked.

"Go ahead and go home ______, I'll catch up later." He looked apologetically at me and walked across the street.

I nodded and kept walking.

I watched as Heather smiled and hugged him.

It hurt.

He was dating her and she was so sweet. Everyone loved her so, I can see why he did too. She always had a smile on her face.

I kept walking, tears stinging my eyes. There's no way I could ever be like her. He liked her more and would run to her at the drop of a hat.

Arriving at home, I stepped inside. "Hey mom! I'm back!" I set the bag on the counter.

"Oh good! Make sure you do your homework!"

"Yes ma'am!" I sigh and go up to my room, closing the door.

Out of instinct, I called my friend, Valerie.

"A simple solution to your problem is to play spin the bottle or something." She teased.

"Why would he ever kiss me? I'm nowhere near as pretty as Heather!" I clutch the sleeves of the hoodie before taking it off and throwing it onto my bed.

"He gave her his sweater." My eyes watered as I told her what had happened at school that day.

"The black one or the fake polyester one?" Valerie asked.

"The black one."

"Oh dear. I'll be right over." She hung up.

"Is it wrong to wish she were dead?" I chuckled softly when Valerie came through my bedroom door.

"Yes. It's your jealousy and I'm gonna chop off your legs if you continue on this path, Anakin." Valerie smirked.

"Dude, I was kidding." I turn in my swivel chair.

"Yeah, it was a failed attempt at a joke. I'm sorry about Jason. If it makes you feel better, Bradley dumped me." She looked at the ground.

"Here's the plan, I drive the car and Jason shoves him into the road and we make it look like an accident." I spoke whilst drawing out the plan.

"Don't worry about it."

"Worry about what?" Jason walked in.

"Oh, you came!" Valerie smiled.

I looked at her, what a traitor.

"So, I heard you gave Heather your sweater!"

"This one?" He held up said object. "Eh, we broke up. She liked someone else and so did I." He sat on a beanbag chair.

"Wait what? But you really liked her and she's so nice!" I exclaim in shock.

"Relax ______, it was mutual." He chuckled. "There's actually something I came to talk to you about." He seemed nervous, his cheeks tinting red and so were the tips of his ears.

"What is it?" I asked.

"I'll go get water." Valerie got up, stretched and went downstairs.

"I don't know how to say this. This is difficult for me but… I'm sorry. I don't want to be your friend anymore." He sighed.

My eyes widened. "W-what?"

"Yeah. I'm...tired of it." He stood up.

"But Jason, you're my best friend!"

"I know. Hey, do you know what material this shirt is?" He checked his shirt.

"Jason, now's not the time-"

"Answer!"

"I don't know! Cotton, maybe?!" I was growing panicked and my eyes were stinging with tears.

"Wrong, it's boyfriend material. And so is that hoodie." He smirked.

I stood in silence.

"What?" He asked.

"Jason Peter Todd, are you...asking me to be your girlfriend????" I stood, mouth agape in shock.

He smirked and nodded. "Sure thing buttercup! I... love you." His face turned beet red.

"Why? I'm not pretty. I'm not slim or fit or anything-"

"Because you're smart, and cute, you're kind and brave. You're so cool too and geek out with me. We both nerd out over science stuff and books. What's not to love???" The look on his face was one of pure confusion, as if the answer was as clear as day.

"Jason, I love you too." I spoke in a hushed whispers as a few years fell from my eyes.

"Don't cry! Why are you crying???"

"I'm just happy! I've liked you for so long!"

"So have I but I'm not crying!"

"I didn't think you'd like me because I'm chubby!"

"What?! You think I'm that shallow? I'm offended!"

"Jay and ______ sitting in a tree~" Valerie teased from the doorway.

"Val!" We exclaimed in unison, Jay pulling me into a side hug.

"Fine! I'mma head out!" She grabbed her backpack and left.

A few days later, Jason was going to leave for a mission that I didn't want him to go on. I knew how dangerous it was for him to go alone.

"I'm leaving...for Bosnia. Bats needs my help." He looked at me sadly.

"Jay, please. Don't go. What if something happens?" I pleaded, clutching onto him tightly.

It was only a few days ago that he confessed to me and we were trying to figure out where to go with our relationship, which led to this argument.

"I'll come back. I promise." He kissed the top of my head. "Love ya." He smirked. His forest green eyes shone in the sunlight like an emerald.

He seemed so confident that he would be okay.

"Jason, no! I have a bad feeling you're not coming back!" I pleaded harshly, grabbing his wrist and asking him to stay.

"I'm just going to meet my birth mom, I'll be fine!" He assured me. "Here, hold onto my jacket for me." He took off his leather jacket and handed it to me.

I nodded with tears escaping the corners of my eyes. "I love you Jason…" I said as I watched him hop into the car and leave. Little did I know that would be the last time I ever saw him.

I kept that jacket with me at all times after that.

A few weeks went by without a word from Jason and the pit on my stomach only grew, the only thing keeping me sane was the scent of his cologne on his jacket that lingered still.

Finally, I mustered up the courage to go to Wayne Manor and ask if anyone's heard from Jason. It was then my heart shattered into pieces.

"Miss ______, I am so terribly sorry. I thought someone had already told you… Master Jason died last week." Alfred sat me down at the kitchen counter for tea.

My eyes widened and the porcelain teacup fell from my hand, shattering onto the tile floor. Tears flowed from my eyes like a cerulean waterfall. "No one told me!" I shouted, falling to my knees to clean up the mess with blurry eyes.

"Miss ______, I can get it." Alfred stopped me, only to realize I was bleeding from a deep cut from a glass shard on the top of my hand, a cut that would leave a scar for years to come.

"He can't be dead… he promised he would come back." I whispered, not even flinching from the cut.

"Here, allow me to tend to that." Alfred took out the first aid kit and cleaned the wound, giving it a few stitches.

"How…?" I asked, flinching from pain.

"... The Joker. Master Bruce didn't make it in time." He replied, the sorrow evident in his tone.

I nodded and thanked him for the help and the tea.

"Send a car to take her home." I heard Bruce from the doorway.

"Right away, Master Bruce." Alfred excused himself.

"His funeral is this Saturday if you'd like to come." Bruce turned away from me.

"I'll be there. Time?"

"Noon."

"See you then."

When the funeral finally took place, the reality of Jason's death set in. He wasn't coming back like he promised. I left a rose on his casket and bawled as I watched them lower the casket with my best friend and love of my life, into the dark, cold ground and with it, my heart.

"You promised." I whispered to myself, looking away from the scene. It was then I decided I wanted to be a nurse to help heal people.

Five years later, my dream of being a nurse was nearly achieved. I was two years away from graduating and I went to visit Jason every day on the way home from work. I still lived with my parents since I was a student at the local university, thanks to Bruce.

When I approached the door, that's when I saw it. A single rose on the bench outside the door along with a cryptic letter. 'Hang in there.' it said with a happy face at the end.

I was stumped but the notes and roses kept happening at least once a week and they soon came every day. At least, until the night that would change my life forever.

(Part Two)

(Masterlist)

#jason todd #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x reader #batfam #red hood #red hood x y/n #red hood x reader #batfam fanfic

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elareine · 4 years ago

Note

I had a thought for a prompt: What if Tim had a Costco membership, for getting groceries for Titans Tower right? But what if he got himself a Costco sized tin of those Danish Butter cookies (you know the ones that everyone’s grandma uses the tin for sewing supplies?) for his and Jay’s apartment. Que every single one of their siblings, friends, and Bruce sneaking into their apartment to steal some. Because Alfred DOES NOT let them into the manor for reasons.

That is a hilarious prompt, thank you, love!

(Also thanks to @atasteforsuicidal for explaining what exactly Costco does XD)

It started with Dick.

Which, okay, not too weird. Tim and Dick were close, and if you asked Jason under torture, he would admit that the two of them managed just fine these days, as well. So Dick was a regular visitor these days, and with his metabolism, him sneaking some cookies from the big tins wasn’t too surprising.

“Eat something real,” was Jason’s only reply, and then he made Dick some pasta because no one in this family could feed themselves.

Stephanie was a lot less subtle about it. She marched in with a fervent: “God bless your kitchen” and ate everything in sight. Nothing unusual about that.

Duke was next, though Jason only retroactively added him to the list. That kid was just charming as fuck, dropping by to ask for some opinions and making such a show of stealing Jason’s quesadillas that Jason never noticed him going for the cookies.

The problem really started when Damian broke into their kitchen.

Jason didn’t even figure it out until after it happened, which bugged the hell out of him. Apparently, the hellspawn was willing to do the song-and-dance of slipping through their alarm system but didn’t care about being recorded. Possibly because nothing Damian was all that bad, as far as Jason could see. He went through a few of their assorted tins and boxes, ate a few things, crammed some cookies into his bag, and… left. Maybe the kid had just been hungry on patrol?

(Jason still replaced all of Tim’s coffee, just in case.)

Only that wasn’t the last break-in. No, they had nightly visits by two speedsters. Two. Jason was amazed they had any food left at this rate. This was why Tim had become a Costco member; they would be broke otherwise, inheritance or not. Damian broke in again. The second time, he even brought Jon.

Jason just wished he knew why their kitchen had turned into midnight-snack central. When he complained, Tim just laughed at him.

It didn’t click until Roy fell upon the tin with a cry of delight. “Oh, Jaybird, you bought the good stuff!”

“They’re just cookies.”

“Yeah, but the good ones.” For some reason, Roy looked… disappointed with him? “You really don’t appreciate the finer things in life, do you?”

Normally, Jason would’ve taken that as the starting point for a rant about quality in food and art in these modern times. Right now, he was too busy experiencing an epiphany. “Is that why fucking everyone is trying to burgle our kitchen?”

Roy patted him on the shoulder sympathetically and inhaled another cookie.

Sadly, Jason didn’t feel any better about the madness just because he now had an explanation. They still had the nightly visitors, and more daytime ones than ever, too. Even Damian stopped pretending and just invited himself over for lunch.

One night, Jason switched on the kitchen light, saw Bruce standing there, and switched it right back off.

“Barbara is now my favorite sibling,” he declared upon returning to the bedroom.

Tim didn’t look up from whatever he was typing. “Does she really count as a sibling? She does have a dad.”

“Half sibling, half future sister-in-law, then.” Jason would feel more awkward about that sentence if he wasn’t literally sliding under a blanket with Tim. In their bed. In their apartment. Sooo. No stones to throw here. “Anyway. She’s my favorite.”

“Any specific reason?”

“She didn’t yet try to steal those fucking cookies.”

The typing stopped.

Jason groaned. “…seriously?”

He must’ve sounded truly pathetic because Tim actually put the laptop on the nightstand and scooted his way over into Jason’s arms. “She stopped by when you were out with the outlaws yesterday.”

“And there goes my last hope,” Jason sighed.

Tim showed his sympathy by cuddling in closer, which Jason appreciated, but he wasn’t done with this whole thing yet.

“It tells me I need to start baking again,” he grumbled into Tim’s hair. “If ya’ll are going that crazy for some fucking butter cookies, you should try my mom’s recipe.”

“Yeah, but if you make them, Alfred will love them.”

“What does Alfred have to do with this?”

“He forbade those cookie tins from the manor years ago. No one wants to cross him, but… the lure of the forbidden…”

“So we’re in some sort of reverse psychology experiment?” Jason chuckled. That. That actually explained a lot. Except—“Wait. If you knew—why did you buy it in the first place?”

Tim mumbled something unintelligible. When Jason poked him, he raised his voice, but not by much. “It’s kinda nice, isn’t it?”

“Oh.” Jason cupped Tim’s jaw, gently tipped his head so they were looking at each other. “Sweetheart, you know they would visit with or without the cookies, right?”

Tim just looked at him. “Kinda?”

They had done this for long enough that Jason just asked: “You want logical or emotional reassurance?”

And Tim knew he could reply: “…both.”

“Literally every single one of them has a trust fund. They can afford all the Danish butter cookies in the world. Dames could just break into Cosco—and you know he would, cause it’s a corporation, so ‘stealing is ethical.’” Jason allowed that to sink in. Then he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Tim’s temple. “And they love you very much.” Just like I do.

When he thought that Tim got it, he nodded and let go, allowing his boyfriend to hide his face in Jason’s neck again. That turned out to be a mistake, for Tim chose that moment to strike: “You know the same goes for you, too?”

Jason took a moment to blink. “…Nah. It’s definitely the cookies.”

“Sure, Jay.” Tim pressed a kiss to the side of his neck. “Keep telling yourself that.”

Jason hummed. A peaceful quiet settled over their bedroom.

He waited until Tim was just settled in, his breathing starting to slow down, to say: “By the way, Bruce is in our kitchen.”

“I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that.”

#elareine writes #batfamily #jaytim

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ragingbookdragon · 4 years ago

Text

I’m Only A Crack In This Castle Of Glass (Hardly Anything Else I Need To Be) PT. 7

Batfamily x Batsis Story

Word Count: 2.1K Warnings: Explicit Language, Angst

Author’s Note: Anyone order a part seven? Cause I got a part seven for y'all. Enjoy! -Thorne

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Ever since the meeting that night, she’d gotten more letters from her family than she’d ever received in twenty-one years. Not that she decided to read them. The first line from Dick’s letter was, ”I never wanted you to leave because of me. If only I’d known…”. She couldn’t keep reading, and she wasn’t sure if it were from guilt, sadness, or anger, but there was something there that she didn’t want to face.

It didn’t stop there though. They kept coming even if she tacked a return to sender on it and sent it back. She’d even labeled one and written, ”Stop writing me.” but that didn’t stop them. Wally texted her every other night on top of the letters and she wanted to strangle him through the phone.

She knew though, that if she could keep holding out for three more months, she’d be home free. Wherever home was at this point. Every city she kept thinking about had some type of vigilante and there was nothing that didn’t; eventually she decided on Coast City. Somewhere warm and sunny, and as far from Gotham and Central as possible.

Of course that little voice in the back of her head just kept telling her to talk to them, but she was going to be as stubborn against it as possible—but time was dwindling, and so was her resolve.

***

“Ophelia, have you seen the extra bag of espresso beans? I can’t remember where you put them the other week.” She waited for a response. “Ophelia?” she turned and frowned. “Why did I accept the manager’s position when I can’t even round up my workers?”

She walked out of the storage and wiped her hands on the rag at her waist. “Ophelia?” A giggle sounded at the counter and when she walked out, her eyes went wide at the sight.

Jason was leaning against the counter with that smile he used to use on the models at the galas. He smiled at Ophelia. “Tell me, what do you make better, the cappuccinos or lattes?”

“Well, I make a —”

“She makes a mean ‘get in the back and find my espresso beans’,” she grunted and both of them jumped.

“Melisandre!” Ophelia stuttered, pale cheeks flushing pink. “I thought you were in the back.”

“I was. Think you can go find the coffee beans you put away?” She shot Ophelia a stare that screamed ‘scram’ and the girl nodded, hurrying to the storage room.

“Aww, why’d you run the cutie off, Melisandre?” Jason queried. “I was going to ask her out on—”

“Can I talk to you?” she interrupted, voice barely containing her seething rage. “Outside.”

Jason shrugged and shoved his hands in his jean pockets. “Sure, but be careful, people might get suspicious.”

She grunted and walked outside, listening to him follow and when the door shut, she turned around and hissed, “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was just getting coffee.”

“Oh, don’t play dumb with me, Jason. We both know that’s a load of bullshit.”

His eyes narrowed and he noted, “You’ve really gotten comfortable using foul language. You know that, (Y/N)?”

She glared at him. “What. Do. You. Want.”

“You won’t answer our letters,” he shrugged. “Didn’t have a lot of options to talk.”

“And showing up at my job is the better option?” she griped.

“It was that or your house, (Y/N). Take your pick but you can’t have both.”

“Well, maybe my silence is supposed to be the answer to those letters. Did you think about that?”

“I did,” he nodded. “But after the third letter being rejected, I decided to go big or go home.”

(Y/N) growled. “Go home.”

Jason smirked. “No.”

“I’m not fucking joking here, Jason. I don’t want you coming here. Ever.”

“Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn,” he retorted then stepped forward and grabbed her wrist. “You don’t wanna talk willingly, fine. I’ll make you talk to me. And if I have to show up here every day, I will.”

“No, you won’t.”

Jason cocked a brow and tightened his grip. “You wanna bet? Because I’m not Dick and I’m sure as hell not Bruce. I don’t have a day job to get to.” He smirked. “I can do this all day.”

(Y/N) bit the inside of her cheek and thought for a moment then sighed and yanked her arm away. “Fine. Come to my apartment after five. We’ll talk there.”

“Thank—”

“Don’t thank me yet,” she interrupted coldly. “I’m agreeing for one meeting and then you fuck off back to Gotham City and leave me the hell alone for good.” She spun on her heel and started back for the door when his voice reached her, tired and pained.

“Do you really hate all of us? Do you really hate us like you make yourself think you do?”

(Y/N)’s feet felt like lead and she stopped, gazing at the glass door. “I don’t know, Jason.”

“Then let me help.”

“You can find the apartment on your own. I know you’re good at looking for homes.” She slipped in the café door, leaving him standing there shocked and hurt.

***

Sure enough, a minute after five o’clock, her doorbell rang and she called, “It’s open.” The door opened and shut, and she looked up from the little kitchenette, watching the way Jason walked into her apartment, gazing around the empty living room.

“Shit, do you live in a home or a prison cell?”

(Y/N) grunted. “Nice quip. Come up with that by yourself?”

He wandered into the kitchen, leaning back against the counter as she prepared dinner. “What’re you making?”

“Chicken marsala,” she replied. “You’re here to talk. Start talking.”

“Are you going to be a bitch like you were the other night or can I ask about life in Central the last three years?” she shot him a glare, warning him, but he paid it no mind. “You going to school?”

(Y/N) nodded. “I go to Central City Community College. Take classes all week at different times.”

“What are you studying?” he asked.

“For now, general studies, but I’m minoring in political science.”

“Planning on a four year after you graduate?”

She shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not.” Her hands stalled for a moment. “I don’t have the money for a big school to get a bachelors.” Shaking her head, she chopped up the vegetables. “Figure if I can get a job in the area, I can scrounge up enough to start the process though.”

“Might take years,” Jason noted, and she nodded.

“Yeah, hard work usually does.” (Y/N) glanced at him. “What’s Cassandra like?”

He blinked, evidently not expecting that, though he recovered and smiled. “She’s great honestly. Kicks ass better than anyone I know.”

“Even Batman?”

Jason huffed a laugh. “I’m sure she could wipe the floor with each of us if she decided to not hold back. Her mom’s Lady Shiva and her dad’s David Cain.”

“I don’t know who they are but I’m assuming from the tone that they’re not exactly the best parents in the world.”

“No…they’re not.” He agreed. “David didn’t teach Cass how to speak so she’s been mute all her life.”

“I’ve heard the few interviews she’s given,” (Y/N) replied. “She’s very eloquent when she does.”

“Shakespeare’s influence. And probably Emily Dickinson.” He smiled. “I leave her a lot of books to read so I can be her favorite.”

She snorted. “Yeah, that sounds like you.” Sliding the cast iron skillet into the oven, she sat at the crappy metal dining table, Jason taking the seat on the other side. (Y/N) scratched at the table. “Does Bruce like her?” she questioned lowly, and he nodded.

“Loves her like she’s his own.” He her with cautious eyes. “Just like he loves you.” Jason watched the emotion flash across her face, quick as lighting, a deep sorrow, then she was humming.

“Well, that’s good then.” She cleared her throat and looked at the clock. “How’ve you been? I hear a lot about Outlaws.”

Jason chuckled. “Yeah, that’s my band of renegades. Me, Roy Harper, and Koriand’r.”

“Remind me, those were Speedy and Starfire, right?”

He snorted. “Arsenal and Starfire. But yeah, close enough.”

(Y/N) got up and pulled two glasses from the cabinet before going to the refrigerator and getting the lemonade. She poured them both glasses and sat back down. “How’d you manage to wrangle two of the Titans into your posse?”

“Kori willingly tagged along, and Roy won’t leave me alone,” he griped, sipping his lemonade.

“Mmm…and how does Dick feel about you stealing two of his exes?”

Jason choked on his drink, spilling it on the table and down his chin. “That’s not—” he coughed. “That’s not what that is.”

“Uh huh, sure it’s not.”

“It isn’t,” he glowered.

“Riiiiiiight,” she drawled out with a grin, then took a sip and set her glass back down. “Figured you’d get Cass along with you. she seems like she’d be fit for Outlaws.”

He shook his head. “Nah, she’d be better off with Tim and his Young Justice weirdos.”

“She non-lethal?”

“Mhm.”

They dwindled into silence until the timer went off on the oven and she pulled the skillet out and set two plates on the table. “You’re gonna feed me?” he asked as she handed him a fork.

(Y/N) scoffed. “Duh. I’m a bitch, but I’m a bitch with manners.” She smiled sweetly. “But you have to leave afterwards.”

“Mmm…can I crash on your couch?”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

He shrugged. “Figured I’d try anyways.”

They ate in silence, occasionally speaking about their lives the last three years, and when the food was all gone and the lemonade drunk, he sighed and reclined in the chair.

“What?” (Y/N) questioned and he shrugged.

“Dunno…I’d like to do this again soon.” His teal eyes found hers. “It’s been too long since we were together.”

“Tread carefully,” she murmured, looking at the wall and he sighed.

“Sis, talk to me,” he begged. “Even if it’s just to tell me how much you hate me, just talk to me.” She didn’t respond and he sighed again, standing from the table. “Thanks for dinner.”

“…I hate that you all put Gotham and every civilian before our family.” Jason stopped dead in his tracks and turned, gazing at her, though she didn’t tear her eyes from the wall. “I hate that the only time I felt like anyone paid any attention to me was when we were at galas and even then, the attention was just for show. It didn’t matter because all anyone wanted to do was get the hell out of the manor and go on patrol. It didn’t matter because I wasn’t like any of you. I wasn’t a part of the real family.”

Tears gathered in her eyes. “I hate that I spent more nights sitting in a dark and silent manor than spending them with my family. I hate that I never had a normal family growing up where we’d go for ice-cream after school and attend school performances. I hate that I got stuck with a bunch of siblings hellbent on giving every piece of themselves to the world and they couldn’t take one night off to have a family night to save their lives. To at least pretend to be normal.”

(Y/N) finally took her eyes from the wall and he felt his heart tighten as the tears slipped down her cheeks and she breathed, “I hate that I was born Bruce Wayne’s biological daughter and I’d give anything and everything I have to be someone else’s daughter and sister.”

Jason’s mouth felt dry, and he didn’t have single thing to say to her and she whispered, “Is that what you wanted to hear, Jason?” she blinked. “Because that’s what I feel every morning I wake up.”

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, and she cleared her throat, wiping her cheeks.

“Yeah well, I’m three years passed sorry.” (Y/N) nodded to the front door. “You should leave now.”

Jason nodded but his feet didn’t move. For a moment, he couldn’t move them, then he sucked in a breath and started edging back to the door. When he neared the door, he pulled it open and paused, looking back at her. “(Y/N)?” she didn’t answer but he said it anyway. “I love you. More than you’ve ever known.” He sighed and stepped out, closing it behind him.

(Y/N) buried her face in her hands and sobbed alone at the dinner table.

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Tags!: @itsnottilly @cloudyskylines @starflyer-104 @iwillstaywiththemforever @justine-en @weirdgirlfromtx @notsostraightweeb @candlestudy @willowoo @peterxwade24 @the-atlantic-french-fry @bad-bouquet-of-emotions @vvipgot7be @pure-princess-97 @atomicsoulhumanspy @foreverthefloor @natatawa-ako @impactshawol @bethabear12 @adazzlingsakura @kimhanbiin @thatanonymouschocolate @mischief-writter-24-7 @lostinwonderland314 @elz-zalarrr @lady-of-the-abyss @peqchynero @d3m0n8ch1ld @goldenguki @fallen-wolf22 @battlenix

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ectonurites · 4 years ago

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hey! how knowledgeable are you on stephanie brown? because i got in a bit of an argument with a dc fan on reddit who claims she's all these awful things, but im still relatively new to steph and i want to see what was true and what wasn't. link to screenie right here: https://ibb.co/vh6CYCJ

these may be matters of opinion, but even then, i'd like to know your take. i haven't read her firsthand often enough and i trust your judgement over this random redditor who seems to have some sort of blonde-woman related trauma left untapped.

I'm not necessarily the most knowledgable on her in the world, but I do know a decent amount because she's one of my absolute faves and I love her

But ohhhh boy that screenshot is a lot.

I will say that several of the things this person brings up are based in canon but are taken in the worst faith and framed in the way that makes her look as bad as possible, if that makes sense? It’s ripping things away from any context, because there's a very clear bias against her here.

I'll go through it point by point under the cut

First of all though before digging into this, I want to make it clear she was a 15 year old for the majority of the things this person is talking about. Like just pause for a second and remember she’s a 15 year old victim of abuse. That is something that I think factors into a lot of her behavior! Anyways, I kinda while doing this got into a ranty 'talking at you' format in response to the person who wrote all that, so don't take any of this as me yelling at you who asked the question/you anyone reading this.

"She always acted entitled" - Saying Steph is entitled is absolutely ridiculous to me. Stephanie grew up with a very unstable childhood due to her dad frequently being in prison and her mom dealing with a drug addiction, living in a lower class part of the city. Tim is entitled. I don’t mean that as like a bad thing about him, but he is based on his living situation, she is not. She has wanted life to be better for herself and her mom, and is determined about that, but she is not and does not act entitled.

(Secret Origins 80 Page Giant)

"and stubborn" - I will give you stubborn though, that one is true. She’s stubborn as hell! I don’t really see that as a bad thing though, pretty much every bat is stubborn?

"demanding that Batman and Robin accept her untrained ass" - Steph may have been untrained in fighting but she's shown to have exceptional gymnastics skills from the start, and at one point Bruce even says that with the right training she could be as good if not better than Tim (in Robin #88)! So like... her realizing she enjoys trying to be a hero after she tried it out to deal with her personal business, so she looks to the local experts… and is determined about it… how is that a bad thing? It’s also not like she walked up to them and said ‘im perfect as i am let me in’ what she wanted was a chance to be a hero. But she also wasn't even really looking for approval, either, not having Batman's blessing was never going to stop her. ("So excuse me if I don't jump when you bark, Batman." in Robin #16) Later when Bruce does bring her in to train (and she also gets to train with the BoP) she's excited! She’s stubborn about wanting to be in the hero business, but it’s not like she’s unwilling to work for it.

"advocating leaving criminals to die because they 'deserve it'" - She’s a 15 year old who grew up knowing firsthand how dangerous Gotham criminals can be because of her dad, of course off the bat when they’re in a dangerous situation where any of them could die (because that’s the context here, this is in Robin #35 where they’re trapped in some super dangerous snow) she thinks they shouldn’t go back for another criminal who just tried to kill them and should instead save themselves. But she also literally WITHIN THAT SAME ISSUE then says she realized she learned something after listening to Tim and trying to save the guy! In the same issue! Characters in a story aren’t supposed to be perfect from the start… they learn things along the way???

(Robin #35)

"trying to steal from the shops they just stopped from being burglarized" - She’s 15 and doesn’t have a ton of money. She was gonna take two sodas, and when Tim said not to do it she paid with very little fuss. They stopped people who were robbing the place at gunpoint for prescription drugs. If you can’t understand the difference in severity between those things like… I do not even know where to start. (this situation is in Robin #56 btw)

"forcing physical affection onto Tim despite his visible discomfort and repeated objections (not even stopping when he told her he had a girlfriend)" - This one I will give you because she did cross boundaries with all that! But I do also want to clarify that she didn't start coming onto him until after Tim kissed her first (in Robin #5) while not telling her he had a girlfriend. That doesn’t excuse her later actions but for the first issue that she’s coming onto him from her perspective he expressed interest and she was just returning it! She even specifically says 'Maybe I should pay you back for saving my life the same way you paid me' (in Robin #16) before kissing him. That first time she kissed him unprompted was under essentially the same circumstances he kissed her unprompted, and she literally did not know about Ariana until after the fact. From that point once she knew about Ari she definitely should have backed off and she didn’t, that’s a very fair thing to criticize about her as a character. But Tim lead her on first, and I feel a lot of people like to casually forget that when talking about this situation. The way this is phrased of ‘not even stopping when he told her-‘ implies she was repeatedly doing the bad behavior before he told her, which is not the case. She still did bad things here but don’t misrepresent the situation.

"And lashing out at Tim, her mother, and her classmates in violent fits of anger" - Every comic book character lashes out at other people for the sake of drama like, I dare you to come up with a well-known superhero character who hasn’t done shit like that to a partner/family/friends in a moment of high tension/stress?

"She treated the girls around her like they were stupid bitches" - frankly this ones a little too vague like, I'm not sure off the top of my head exactly what they're talking about? in that era right around her pregnancy and stuff I really don't recall her being mean with other girls? I could be forgetting something I guess but the closest I can think of is a bit after this period of time when she has the confrontation with Greta in Young Justice but that was Greta attacking her first, not the other way around.

"got insanely jealous if Tim so much as expressed concern about another girl" - Steph getting jealous and thinking Tim was cheating isn’t that crazy when STEPHANIE BASICALLY WAS THE OTHER GIRL DURING TIM’S LAST RELATIONSHIP? Tim has cheated a little bit before! Tim cheated on Ari with both Jubilee from Marvel (during a crossover thing where he even mentions Ari specifically so it’s not like this was out of continuity/a setting she wasn't an issue or something) and also with Steph. While most of the kissing between them was Steph coming onto Tim which I wouldn’t count as cheating on his end, he did still kiss her which I would count. Not to mention that the jealousy thing (I imagine they’re talking about the instance with Star, the girl who taught Tim to skateboard, this arc of stuff starts in Robin #80 and continues for a few issues) is happening during the time she’s dating him while she still doesn’t even know his real name. He literally has a whole other life she doesn’t know about, and is someone who has initiated romantic moments with other girls while in a relationship multiple times before! With that in mind I don’t think a 16 (she's def 16 by this point) year old girl being kinda paranoid about how he interacts with girls he might know in his civilian life is that unreasonable? The later big instance with jealousy is the Darla situation- where Steph sees Darla kiss him and gets mad about it (and doesn’t talk to him about it) and thats what prompts her to become Robin. The important thing to remember about Steph in this time frame is that DC decided she had to die and they wanted to make her Robin first to drum up more attention for that death. They were doing ooc things with her to set those pieces in motion, and that needs to be taken into account. I think her getting upset about seeing something like that isn’t even ooc, but her using it as motivation to become Robin and not even saying anything to him about it is. In the earlier instance where she’s upset/jealous about Star, she does communicate to him what’s going on at least a little bit on the rooftop after they’d saved her. She makes it clear the thing she was upset about is that she feels like she can’t trust him because she doesn’t really know him while he knows everything about her, and that’s why she thinks he’s cheating. Her reaction to the Darla thing is not in line with how earlier in canon Steph would have handled the same situation, because they wanted her to die and needed a way to explain her becoming Robin.

"and expressed that jealousy by accusing him of cheating and throwing things at him" - I just addressed the cheating stuff but the throwing things was fucking slapstick oh my god this is a comic book for kids/teens like. ah yes this is horrible abuse in this little funny montage of how Steph wants him to leave her alone because she’s mad at him and he refuses to give her space

(Robin #82)

I don’t think anyone at DC or even in fandom would/should try to argue she’s perfect, because she’s not! And I don’t want her to be because perfect characters are boring. Steph is flawed, Steph has been compared in canon to Robin-era Jason by Cass & Bruce

(Detective Comics #790)

And I think these highlight some of her very real flaws that are an interesting part of her character. These plus her stubbornness and determination are part of what makes her her.

And for fuck's sake the world was mean to her, and to act like it wasn’t is just blatantly ignoring a lot. A criminal father who made her life really difficult (‘when my dad was mad at me he’d lock me in the closet!’), that time she got kidnapped for two weeks and her mom had left her (a 15 year old) alone at home so long she didn't even find out it happened (in text Steph says Crystal was visiting friends, a lot of people interpret that as her mom possibly being in rehab for her addictions again), that whole thing about how one of her dad’s friends tried to sexually assault her as a child, also just how due to her dad's work sometimes criminals would be living in their house (Literally the fucking Riddler at one point!), the fact that we as an audience watched her get tortured for several days because a plan she tried to enact to prove herself backfired since Batman didn’t trust her with important information (something Selina even calls him out on in her internal narration), like… sorry but in what way is all that not the world being mean to her?

She was Robin, she dated Robin, she likes Eggplant (because purple would've looked stupid), and makes jokes. She’s also impulsive, headstrong and determined, and wants to prove to herself and others that she can be more than just the daughter of a shitty criminal, that she can actually be a force to do good in the world.

She’s a complex character, and nobody is required to like her, but to act like she doesn’t have a single redeeming trait is ridiculous. You could write a paragraph like that with the worst moments of basically any character and make them look like shit if that's what you were setting out to do.

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alecmagnuslwb · 4 years ago

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Giving Home a Heartbeat - @doubleredweek Day 7

Read on AO3

Jason’s pretty sure that somewhere underneath all these boxes is the house they bought, he’s just not quite sure where.

“Jay Jay, Daddy stopped picking up boxes and sat down, so I’m picking up the slack!” Lian shouts over the distinct scraping sound of cardboard. Jason turns and there she is walking backwards her tiny hands pulling a box along that’s practically the same size as her not even breaking a sweat. Sometimes Jason thinks they really need to ask Jade about any superhuman abilities she might be hiding that could have been passed down.

Jason shakes his head and walks over to her lifting the box and sitting it over with the rest of the living room Jenga stack of cardboard boxes that is their life.

“Good work princess,” Jason says ruffling her hair as she sidles up next to him looking at all the boxes with a much more gleeful look on her face than the one he’s sporting.

“I am not slacking,” Roy shouts with a struggling groan. Jason turns back to the door watching as Roy takes a step through with three heavy boxes precariously stacked on top of one another in his arms blockading Roy’s body almost entirely from view. Jason rushes over to his side taking the highest one revealing Roy’s head his messy hair dripping with sweat and poking out wildly from underneath his backwards cap.

“These are the last ones and I just didn’t want to make numerous trips,” he grunts shifting the boxes in his arms. “Dick and Babs are taking the truck back and sweetly said they will not be coming back to help us unpack.” Jason rolls his eyes eight siblings, one younger than them aunt, two pseudo sisters-in-laws, a literal space traveling brother-in-law, three parental figures and one grandfatherly figure between the two of them and not one of them stuck around long enough to put all these boxes through the front door.

“We don’t know exactly how you want everything set up,” Connor had justified as he and Kyle started floating up into the sky and away as soon as the truck was full as if Jason, Roy and especially Lian wouldn’t happily boss them around with instructions of where to place things.

Stephanie, Tim and Damian even had the audacity to eat half the moving day pizza on their own, pick up one box together and then disappear. Teamwork Steph had called it before high fiving Roy and running after her boyfriend. Chaotic bisexuals Roy had sighed as they sped away on her motorcycle Damian already long gone slipping off like a silent shadow in the mid-day.

At least Roy and Jason hadn’t had to pay for the pizza they got one shared slice of, after twenty minutes of arguing about who should pay Oliver and Bruce had settled on splitting. Though knowing Bruce Jason would bet he added on a bigger tip when Ollie’s back was turned just to spite him.

“Do you think the Aqua Family treat each other this way?” Jason says watching as Lian tosses a small box up on the still covered in plastic couch and starts tearing at the tape.

“I bet they swim across the seven seas and happily move their family’s underwater décor without complaint,” Roy says as he slips behind Jason resting his chin on Jason’s shoulder. Together they survey the room with the knowledge that every other room in the house looks much the same, a labyrinth of boxes. It’s gonna take them weeks to unpack all the stuff from the workshop alone.

“I know we don’t know her as well as my dad and Bruce, but do you think if we put in a call to Zatanna she’d just,” Roy says flicking his hands around Jason’s waist in a pale comparison to the intricate patterns Jason’s seen her do in battle. “Ya know, poof and we’re unpacked.”

“I don’t think that’s gonna happen,” Jason sighs. Lian has fully opened the box now pulling out item after item that definitely all belong in the kitchen not on their living room couch.

Roy faux cries burying his face in Jason’s neck sadly. Jason reaches up a hand only slightly condescendingly patting at Roy’s head.

“Alright, we gotta start somewhere. Lian’s room is the priority, you and I have slept on far more uncomfortable things than a plastic wrapped couch,” he says, they’ve already got a start in there anyways thanks to Alfred the only member of their families who’s not an ingrate setting up her pink and green matching bed, bookshelf, desk and wall shelves without even being asked. Jason survey’s the room eyes falling over to the kitchen. “I’d say we shoot for finishing the kitchen tonight too, but we can always just order takeout again.”

“More pizza!” Lian squeals in delight twirling a bundle of measuring cups around and around in one hand.

“No, we’ll get something else,” Roy says and Lian’s face drops just a little. “Something with lots of vegetables, like Thai maybe.” She perks back up at that.

“As long as I don’t have to eat peas,” she grumbles trading the measuring cups out for a ladle she taps delightedly on the boxes flap.

“Fine, no peas,” Jason says slipping away from Roy and grabbing the box Lian has been playing around with as she shouts triumphantly about the lack of peas in her future. He tosses the things she’s taken out of the box back in and slides it onto the kitchen counter to deal with later.

“Go to your room and start unpacking the boxes labeled books first okay,” Roy says lifting her up from the couch her legs sticking to the plastic as he does and settling her feet on the ground. “Put some on the lower shelves, but don’t try to reach the high shelves without Jay or I’s help okay?”

Lian nods furiously skittering off clapping her hands in joy, her light up Scooby Doo shoes going wild with every step.

“Promise, Daddy!” she shouts as she hightails it up the stairs and turns the corner sharply. A light thud earns their attention as soon as she disappears from sight followed by silence.

“Lian?” Jason shouts after her already braced to rush the stairs if she doesn’t respond instantly. Roy does the same.

“I’m okay, I just kicked a box over!” she shouts back and they both breathe a sigh of relief. “And it knocked over two more!” she says with utter delight causing them both to chuckle.

“If we want to get this house done before she’s out of high school, we’re gonna need to send her for an archery range day with grandpa tomorrow,” Roy says walking over to Jason. He hops up onto the kitchen island kicking his feet out back and forth.

“And maybe an ice cream day with aunt Emiko the day after that, just in case,” Jason adds on as he settles himself between Roy’s dangling legs his back to Roy’s front. Roy wraps his arms back around him, placing his chin back where it had been in the living room.

They both gaze out across the rooms, across their home, across what it will be in a few days’ time. Jason never thought he’d call Star City home, hell he never thought he’d get out of the Narrows, but here he is a homeowner with a man he fully intends to keep for the rest of his life and a little girl he considers his daughter.

“It’s gonna look great when it’s all set up,” Roy says nuzzling his face softly to Jason’s temple. “The perfect mix of superhero chic and parents of a five-year-old who only occasionally cleans up after herself.”

“An interior designers dream,” Jason chuckles leaning back further into Roy’s arms.

“Jade’s gonna hate it,” Roy laughs.

“Oh god, I’ll fly Alfred out to help me clean just to be sure it’s spotless when the time comes. When does she get back from South America?”

“The fourteenth, she’s taking Lian for the week, remember?” Roy says pressing a quick kiss to Jason’s jaw. The fourteenth, that’s plenty of time to make it look it’s best to at least cut her sly judgements in half.

They’re quiet for a while comfortably listening to the rustling sound of Lian tearing tape off of boxes above them. She’s probably gonna be wrapped in it by the time they get up here.

“We own a house,” Jason says breaking the comfortable quiet still stunned by the fact they’ve made it here. Six years ago he walked away from Roy, the worst mistake he’s ever made, and somehow impossibly when he came crawling back Roy welcomed him with open arms and now they’re here. It feels almost too good to be true.

Roy nods and Jason can feel his smile against his neck.

“Your stuck with me now Jaybird,” he chuckles and Jason pulls Roy’s arms around him tighter, happily stuck. They bask in each other’s arms a little longer when the sound of tape gets louder and more prominent followed by a giggle and comical ‘oops’ from Lian.

“We better go help her before she mummifies herself in packing tape,” Roy chuckles slipping out from behind Jason and making his way to the stairs taking them two at a time. Jason hangs back for a moment just looking one last time at the space in front of him, looking at their home before following the sounds of tape being unwrapped from clothes and the laughter of the two most important people in his world.

#my fic #jayroy #jayroyweek2021 #jason todd #roy harper #writersmonth2021

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avaritia-apotheosis · 4 years ago

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Phantom Children Ch. 6

Hi guys! I'm back <3 (also, I'm currently looking for alpha/beta readers for Phantom Children, so if you're interested, feel free to shoot me a message!)

In Which: Danny Attempts to get Answers, Bruce Learns, and Dick Finally Learns What's Inside the Door that Doesn't Exist

AO3 | Prologue | 5 | [ 6 ] | 7

DANNY IS KNOCKED DOWN three, four, eight times on the ice. Each time made his back ache, his bones bruised and tired, and his mind burning with embarrassment and a drive to lash out. But each time he gets back up. Each time he lasts a little bit longer against Talia.

The ice still shifts, cracks and rumbles with every wrong move. Danny learned to roll with it. Move on light feet but attack with a firm stance, gauge which parts of the ice are stable and which should be avoided. Multi-tasking has never been Danny’s strong suit, but he’s good at learning and learning quickly.

Talia corrected his form as much as she beat him down. Exploited every one of his openings until he learned to defend them and praised him whenever he managed to pull one over her. The League’s martial arts was the holy amalgamation between almost every single fighting style there is, mashed and refined to perfection to become almost unpredictable to the untrained. A vast improvement to Danny’s previous ‘fuck around and see what works’ brawling and had the added benefit of meshing together with his spontaneity.

“You are doing well, Daniel,” Talia said as she sheathed her sword, hand resting just above her hip. “You have improved greatly in such a short time, as I have expected.”

It takes every ounce of Danny’s superhuman energy to not collapse to his knees, his every breath a ragged shudder as he tries to get his breathing under control. “Still can’t beat you, though.”

“Very few can boast that feat.”

“I’m not exactly sure if that’s supposed to make me feel any better or not. Do I get my prize at least?”

Tahlia tossed her braid over one shoulder with a laugh. “Come, then, let us rest in the caves. The sun is to set soon and we must make camp before we freeze to death.”

“Hypothermia is so last season. I’m way too cool for that.”

He didn’t know whether to be disappointed that Tahlia didn’t react to his pun. It was pretty clever, in his opinion.

('Puns are the lowest form of comedy,' said mind-Jazz.

Says the one who named the Box Ghost the ‘Crate Creep.’

'That’s alliteration, not a pun.')

It was kind of pathetic that even his mind-version of Jazz was smarter than him.

“What would you like to know first?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Sarcasm dripped from Danny’s voice. He sheathed his sword and let it hang loose at his side. “Maybe how old this mysterious brother of mine is?” Ancients, his life was weird enough already, it wasn’t supposed to sound like the B-plot to a bad soap opera.

“Damian is younger than you by a little over four years. He will turn eleven this year.”

“Huh. Never been an older brother before.”

“Perhaps you might have been, if circumstances had been different.”

Cryptic. Great. Danny stepped over a particularly large crack in the ice and scampered over to solid ground. “You gotta give me more than that. What’s he like?”

“Prideful,” she said. “But skilled enough to warrant it. He was raised like a prince—as how you should have been.”

“And he lives with…our dad?”

“Yes. In America.” The cave was deep enough to shield them from the worst of the eventual mountain winds. Tahlia had already started building a campfire with equipment from her knapsack, embers eating away and growing into a steady flame. He sat down, legs crossed, beside the fire, hands tucked beneath his armpits.

He bit his lip, a question forming in his mind. “Do…do we have the same dad?”

Tahlia looked up at him. “Of course. Only your father has had the privilege of being called my beloved, and only he is worthy enough to have sired my children.”

Once night fell, it fell quickly. Blanketing as far as Danny could see from the mouth of the cave in a thick darkness. Snow fell from the skies in thick tufts and covered their footsteps.

“Does he—do they know about me?”

“No, they do not.”

“And you probably aren’t going to tell them anything about me, if you could help it.”

“That is very perceptive of you, habeebi.”

“You won’t tell me anything more about them, will you?”

“In due time, I will.”

Danny blew part of his fringe away from his face. Figures.

Despite the ever-present niggling at the back of his mind, Bruce had yet to see what was in the flash drive. The weeks since his strange meeting with Vlad Masters suddenly exploded with criminal activity with the recent breakout in Arkham and the brewings of another gang war in the shadows of Gotham’s paved streets. It was all hands-on deck. And Bruce, whether as Batman or Wayne, had always prioritized Gotham and its citizens over anything else.

The flash drive remained on his person despite the crisis, tucked away in one of the sturdier compartments of his utility belt to prevent the data inside from becoming damaged. Sometimes he found his hands gravitating towards it, fingers brushing against the button that would release the mystery from its confines before he realized what he was doing and steeled himself. Hands fisted to his side and attention forcibly directed elsewhere.

Eventually, the rogues were placed back into Arkham, and Gotham let out a shuddered breath of relief as it remained standing for another day.

Most of the family were out on a light patrol, cleaning up the remains of the breakout and helping where they can. Jason and Dick bickering over the comms whilst Barbara laughed in her clocktower.

(“It’s not that bad.”

"‘It’s not that bad’—shut the fuck up.” Jason spat. Bruce could hear him revving his bike. “You’re a fucking idiot, you know that? Certified Grade A idiot. B’s gonna kill you.”

He could hear Dick roll his eyes. “Sure, pile it all on, Jaybird. Blame the victim.”

"It was your fault.”

“It’s not my fault I didn’t see it there!”

"You tripped and got a concussion. From a stick. A. Stick.”

“Can we please just leave that out of the report?” Dick groaned. Barbara laughed. “Oh god.”

“Richard motherfucking John Grayson. I swear if you vomit on me then—”

“I’m not gonna vomit on you! You just turned the corner a little too fast. It’s nice to see you care though.”

"Fuck no, I just don’t wanna smell like regurgitated cereal.”)

Damian was benched from a patrol. Their last conflict with Poison Ivy ended with Damian sticking a bad landing and twisting his ankle. He dealt with it with as much grace as can be expected. Meaning that he spent the last few days sulking as he caught up on his missed schoolwork and shooting daggers at everyone else who came back from patrol.

Bruce flicked the flash drive open and plugged it into the computer. The flash drive contained only a single folder dated six months ago.

He clicked it, and a news headline popped up.

LOCAL TEEN DIES AFTER DRIVING OFF CLIFF

Beneath it, a picture. Blue eyes. Black hair. A familiar face.

Blood pounded in Bruce’s ears. He could hear nothing except a sharp gasp from Damian behind him.

When Dick and Jason arrived at the batcave, it was to an eerie silence. Not that it was usually loud, only that Bruce spent most of his free time down in the cave and Dick had come to expect hearing some signs of him around. Typing on keys, the clicking of a mouse, the heavy thuds of a fist meeting a punching bag or a training dummy, etcetera, etcetera. Or maybe even Alfred cleaning up around the cave, feeding the bats, or restocking their med bay.

(Dick, it turned out, didn’t have a concussion. Probably. Not a severe one anyway. What mattered most was that he managed to convince Jason to have dinner at the Manor. Alfred was making a tarte tatin for dessert tonight and those were absolutely to die for. )

One of Tim’s cases took him to the other side of Gotham. The only person in the cave was Damian, who was staring agape at the batcomputer.

“Why the hell is the demon spawn looking at old pictures of Bruce? We get it. They look alike.

“Uh, Dami? What’s up?”

Damian snapped his mouth shut. “I believe it might be best if you asked father that, Grayson.” Despite his clipped tone, there seemed to be little anger in his voice. His proud shoulders were hunched over on the chair, eyes trained on his lap.

He looked so small.

Damian clucked his tongue. “He’s upstairs, if you need him. So is Pennyworth.”

Dick shot a glance at Jason who raised his hands in mock surrender. “You’re up golden boy. Whatever the fuck the old man’s problem is this time, I’m not dealing with it.”

Dick sighed. “Fine.”

There was a door in Wayne Manor that didn’t exist.

When Dick was a child and recently adopted by Bruce Wayne, one of the first things he did was explore the manor. It’s the prerogative of every child that somehow found themselves in a large mansion—even more so given the castle-like exteriors of Wayne Manor. All castles have secret passages, and if the Batcave lay in the subterranean depths below, then surely the manor proper must have its own secrets.

Dick would tumble and cartwheel along the hallways, opening any and every single door he came across. A lot of them were just empty bedrooms or unused parlors and sitting rooms; the furniture covered by white sheets to keep the dust away. Alfred was probably magic, but even he can’t keep the entirety of the manor dust free.

The majority of the unused rooms were unlocked.

Except for one.

It was a room in the west wing, on the second floor. A couple doors down from where Bruce’s and Dick’s were. Why it was locked, Dick never found out. But he was curious since it was the only room on that floor that remained shut.

When he asked Alfred about it, the old butler only said that it was an unused storage room they preferred to keep locked just in case. When he asked Bruce about it, he’d be quick to change the subject. Usually something Batman related. Which, well, always worked, because it was Batman related. And Dick, young and spry and itching to fly under Batman’s wings, would quickly forget about that curious little mystery in favor of punching bad guys in the face and flipping over rooftops.

At some point that locked door quietly disappeared, leaving a blank expanse of wallpaper and a decorative vase where it once stood. It was never brought up again. And Dick slowly forgot that it was ever there in the first place.

Until now.

The wooden table and vase were shoved off to the side. Wallpaper sliced away to reveal the lines of a doorway. The door, covered in its faint damask wallpaper, was kicked open, the wood around the bolt splintered and cracked. He could hear voices—Alfred’s and Bruce’s—speaking softly on the other side.

He pressed his back against the wall and kept his breathing quiet.

“Three times, Alfred.” Bruce’s voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. “Three times she’s done this to me.”

“Master Bruce…”

“I don’t—I don’t understand why—” Bruce choked, swallowing a shuddered breath. “Damian, I can understand. Jason, I can too. But…This? I—” Bruce suddenly quieted. Dick knew the jig was up.

He unlatched himself from the wall and slowly slid through the once-hidden-door, a hand kept on the frame. “Um. Hi, Bruce? Alfred?” The words fell flat, stilted. Dick winced as he said them. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but, uh…” He trailed off the second he registered what was in the room.

It was large, as so many rooms in the manor were. The room was covered in peeling green wallpaper with faded pictures of baby deer and owls and other woodland creatures prancing about. There was a dresser on one wall. A shelf filled with little picture books and stuffed animals on the other. A brown teddy bear had fallen on its face on one of the shelves.

In the middle—where Bruce was hunched over—was a crib. The wood streaked and aged with time, the beddings within pristine and untouched, if not dusty. Hanging overhead was a mobile with little animals dangling on a string.

“Worry not Master Dick. It is good that you are here since it will inevitably involve the rest of the family at some point.”

Dick nodded absentmindedly, trying to lock eyes with his guardian. “B? What’s—what’s going on?” Dick took one step deeper into the room. “The pictures in the cave. I thought they were you since they were too old to be Damian—” Bruce’s hands on the crib’s railing flinched.

Dick’s breath hitched.

“They’re…not your photos, are they.”

Bruce took a deep breath in, the lines of his shoulders tense. “No. They’re not.”

In their line of work, the answer could have been anything. Clones, magical doppelgangers, alternate universe counterparts, hell, even just someone’s genetic code being coincidentally similar to another person. But…this room, this nursery, pointed towards only one conclusion.

“Who is he, Bruce?”

Bruce angled his head towards Dick, unshed tears glimmering in his eyes. “He’s my son, Dick.

“He’s my son.”

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

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