#League of assassins are for saving the animals and such like that was part of its original goal

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 128

Everything was gone. But it had been gone for a long time. Cities crumbling to dust under the march of time and under the battering of the weakening sun. Everyone had long since passed into the realm of the dead, and he had long since retreated from the land of the living as he aged, growing larger amidst Time’s coils. 

He’d long since stopped being known as Danny to most, his true Name cradled in his core as it grew in power and importance with his own primordial ascendence. Others called him by just as many names as Clockwork, if not more as his planets grew life, his galaxies cultivating their own beings into existence. 

To some he was a creator, the bringer of life itself. To others he was destruction, the end of all. So many names, so many even coming close to his Name, each cradled gently by his core. 

He was Space, he was stardust, he was a blackhole, the far off galaxies, newborn stars forming in his hands and dying with a blink. Galaxies dancing in his hair, what was, what will be, splintering into planes amidst his strands of hair. 

He was Balance, chaos and order dancing together on a tightrope twisting through existence. He was Phantom, a name whispered amidst the Realms as a guardian, a protector, and yet a hunter, a destroyer at once. 

He was a Brother, a Father, an Uncle, a Son. He was many things, and that was fine with him, but even if hypothetically he should be impartial, he would freely admit he had favorites. Danielle, his little Moon, his first Daughter and her children of Krypton. Dan, his raging Sun, his Son and his little Laughing Magicians. Clockwork, his Father of Time, and his Speedsters who raced through timelines like giggling toddlers, not really understanding but loved all the same. 

His dear Sister’s children, her Ma'aleca'andrans and Atlanteans she tenderly cradled and protected as long as she could before sleep overtook her. His dear Tucker’s Champions, the children of Magic lost and alone. His dear Sam’s children of Lazarus, dancing with blades and between life and death. 

Their dear children that came from all of their blood. The Lords of Chaos, of Order, entire Cities brought to life by their magic, entire planets whose heartbeats pulsed with their own. 

Everything of what they had once been was gone. And it had been gone for a long time. But they were all still here. For Death was just as much a beginning, as it was the end. 

[enigmaris]

Reading a lot of DPxDC fics lately, heres my take on the Danny is Damian's twin AU:

Danny was injured to near death and left for dead by the League as a young boy. Ra's only wanted one heir and Danny was less bloodthirsty than Damian, so it was decided that Danny had to go.

Danny is found and taken to a hospital in Illinois, barely alive. He is saved and wakes up with basically no memories of where he was from and speaking a rare dialect of arabic that none of the cops investigating his case can identify. What words Danny does know in english are concerning so the cops figure Danny was being held by some sort of murder, death cult.

The investigation runs cold and Danny is sent to foster care once his injuries heal. He is then adopted by the fentons and moves to Amity Park. As he grows the only clear memories he has of his past is another boy his age who he felt safe with. He knows the other boy is important to him but not why. He cant even really remember his face, certainly not his name. Danny always felt shitty that he couldnt remember the other boy because if he did, then the cops would have rescued him from the murder death cult too. Instead the other boy is presumably there and getting hurt all the time like Danny was.

Danny gets his powers like normal at 14 and decides that now that he has superpowers he absolutely has to save that other boy. Sam and Tucker help him gather clues, he starts to remember a bit more. He remembers the word ahki and realizes that the other boy is his brother!! Which just really enhances Dannys need to save him from the murder death cult. Eventually Tucker finds a picture of Damian Wayne and Danny is like thats him. Thats my brother.

Wait.

Bruce Wayne is his brothers dad???

Bruce Wayne is a rich fruitloop like Vlad obviously, so he is probably a member of the murder cult. Danny has to rescue his brother from the illuminati.

Cue Sam going to a socialite dinner in gotham much to her parents delight. Getting close to Damian by talking about animal rights, slipping him some sleeping pills in his vegan food. Tucker hacking into the gala and causing a commotion. Danny lugging an unconscious Damian out of the Gala and into the GAV ( no, his parents dont know why he borrowed the car or where he is).

Damian wakes up and immediately tries to attack Danny thinking hes a clone. Danny is like woah shit no its me! Its your brother. Damian is like Danyal is dead. Danny is like obviously not. Now chill out im rescuing you from the cult.

Damian, who has been secrectly mourning his twin for years, has never heard anyone call the League of Assassins a cult. He has to reevaluate a lot of things while Danny drives the GAV out of Gotham as fast as he can. Danny explains his whole backstory and how he is sorry he didnt come to save Damian earlier, his memories were gone but he had never forgotten how important Damian was to him. Damian doesnt do emotions on a good day and is unable to handle that like a normal person.

"Father isnt part of the cult, Danyal."

"Hes a billionaire from Gotham, of course he is!"

Damian who has fought many rich people from gotham, all of whom were evil, tries to find an explanation that isnt 'our dad is batman'. Danny isnt listening to any of it, promising Damian that he will be safe from the murder cult in Amity.

Damian eventually gets out that their mother was in the cult and their father didn't know about them. Danny pulls the GAV over and looks at Damian.

"Did i just kidnap you for no reason?"

"It was a kind gesture at least Danyal."

"Fuck. I just kidnapped bruce wayne's kid in the middle of a gala, am i super villain now?"

"Not if you take me home. Father will understand Danyal."

"I dont want to go to jail!"

Damian gives Danny the address to Wayne Manor and Danny drives to Bristol.

When they walk inside Damian now has to explain the whole 'had a dead brother i never told you about' thing to a less than amused batfam.

Danny introduces himself to Bruce and says that he has an adopted family back in illinois, but that he would be happy to get to know Bruce, also sorry about the kidnapping i dont normally do that i thought you were part of the illumimati and i had to rescue my brother.

Bruce just hopes this kid is normal.

(Hint: he's not)

[bitterrobin]

Let's talk about Damian, the League of Assassins and the al Ghuls. A.K.A things to keep in mind when writing them.

You don't have to force yourself to comply with this, but there are some important facts you need to know and things you absolutely SHOULDNT do (be racist or orientalist).

Read on for a long post about Damian and the League and his family - giving context, some research and comic storylines, and characterization.

There are basically three different backstories for Damian.

Batman: Son of the Demon - technically, this baby is unnamed and not completely Damian. But the writer of that comic does still (sorta) resent that Morrison was able to write Damian in current comics while he wasn't. This baby was given up for adoption by Talia and we never see him again. Fans vastly prefer taking this backstory (me) because Damian is NOT a product of rape and Talia is written like herself.

Morrison's canon/the 2006-2011 era - the Damian we know and love. Kinda-sorta. So, in Morrison's whole run - Damian was raised in the League and trained as an assassin. One key point here: Talia DID NOT raise him. Morrison instead wrote that Talia only first met Damian when he was eight years old, and she was out of his life before then. Morrison also completely fucked up by writing Talia as a rapist who assaulted Bruce in Son of the Demon rather than the actual consensual sex they had. While it gave us the character, its not the complete version that many like. (and also its pretty racist)

Tomasi/Gleason's canon in Batman and Robin/Robin: Son of Batman - almost the same Damian as before, with one key difference: we actually get see what his training and life in the League entailed. Additionally, Talia in this version raised him from an infant, thus making his connection with her much stronger. A win/lose situation there. Talia would never raise her son under her father, but we do get a stronger mother/child bond than we ever had before. (Still fucked, but insanely better than Morrison).

From these three versions, only two utilize the League of Assassins in Damian's origin.

The League, then, is very important to his character. By extension, so should Ras right?

In Morrison's canon/the 2009 era - no, apparently. As per Resurrection of Ras al Ghul, he only sees Damian as a vessel for his soul. To stay eternally youthful and does not care for him as grandson in any way. This...is a lot. You could use it for angst. But it's also not in line with Ras' characterization. You could argue that this version of him and Damian have never interacted before but still.

Here's what you need to know about Ras al Ghul. He was and still is: a doctor. A man of science. He loves and wants to save the beauty of nature. Ras is an eco-terrorist. Not a generic assassin. He believes in the life of nature, animals, but he despises humanity for what they've done to the world. He has seen it all, and he canonically laments of loss of endangered species, of ruined habitats and long-gone animals he once cared for.

He also loves his family. A lot. The entire reason he becomes the Demon's Head is because his first wife, Sora, was killed by someone he treated, and then he was imprisoned and forced to co-habit with her corpse. Of course, over the centuries he's been alive, she's become only one reason for his existence, as we see how jaded he sees humanity and how little he trusts people. He latches onto Talia, his surviving daughter, because he loves her and he grieves her mother. He degrades Dusan, the White Ghost, because he cannot bring himself to love him. He was murdered by Nyssa because she felt betrayed and began to despise his love (and inaction). In current canon, Damian is his grandson and he loves him, despite everything.

Of course, it doesn't justify what he's done. But it's a crucial part of his character: the twisted love that cages. The love that binds and says it knows best for you - "I only want the best for you, I want to protect you, I want the world for you. Can't you see that? I can bring you something better." The fact that he's an ancient immortal only adds to the superiority he believes he's giving to his family.

We return to the League of Assassins. SO, the League was canonically created to further his ultimate goal: saving the planet. Again, eco-terrorism. The League exists to cull the human population. Ras believes in utopia, a world without any humans (even himself and his family). Ras is willing to die, eventually, like a really long time from now, if he gets to complete his goal. Thus, the League wholeheartedly believes in him, for the betterment of the world with their savior at the head. Exactly how the League treats their mission and Ras depends on the writer - but it's common to write them as a cult. Almost a religion.

We don't really get a lot about they operate. There are figures like Dr. Darrk and the White Ghost and all the stuff that comes up in Red Robin. We get some interesting ideas and characters in Robin: Son of Batman. But we don't get how the League works. There's no comic that does a step by step breakdown of their finances, operations, assassins, employees, what Ras actually does to lead and impart his vision to his followers.

We go the cult route, then. Here's something that I'm currently exploring and that I think others should too: The League is a global cult that believes in the holiness of death and the end of humanity in order to save nature/the planet. The League is far-reaching. It is eternal. It has existed for centuries, just as long as Ras al Ghul has.

Damian was part of a cult. Depending in your version of events, he was either taken from his adoptive parents or born into the League. Either way, he was indoctrinated. He believes in his grandfather's ideas. His training, canonically, began when he was very young. It was fast paced, trainer after teacher after teacher. He didn't grow attached to them, but he retained the skills. He is raised not just as an assassin. He is raised as an heir. A leader. An overachievement of talent and privileges. He embodies Ras' beliefs.

He is worshipped. A symbol of the cult. A prince. He is dehumanized. He is a figurehead, a piece of Ras that the common folk can touch and see. Damian believes in this superiority, misguidedly thinks they respect him and not the word of Ras. And there begins the struggle.

He grows up arrogant. Manipulated by his loving grandfather into something he really shouldn't be. But there is still Talia.

Either she only met him later in life when he was eight years old, or she was there from the beginning. In both cases, she would NOT stand for her son being treated this way.

Talia is not a completely non-violent character. She has killed before, and does not have the strict rules of Bruce. But she's not an assassin (at least , she didn't used to be). She can cry over a soul lost. She can shoot a gun but with a trembling heart. Talia was raised by her father with affection. She was sheltered, spoiled. She was educated and trained, yes, but she was not made into a weapon. She was taught martial arts for skills, protection, for Ras' paranoid benefit.

She was loved, but Ras has canonically hit her in moments in rage. He has canonically manipulated/threatened her to try and kill Bruce. I fully believe that she would want to protect Damian from as much abuse as possible even if they're both in the League.

You can interpret her split from her father as many things: her love for Bruce, her love for the world, her own love for her father and seeing in horror how twisted he'd become, her need for independence, to be her own woman without Bruce or Ras in her life, an abused child becoming an adult, etc.

Talia also canonically studied medicine (in Cairo). She believes in life. She would impart this onto her son. She wouldn't want him to grow up sheltered as she was, nor would she want him to become a weapon to be wielded. Talia would advocate for him to be taught arts and literature and respect for nature, and to try and give him some sense of normalcy. She was the one who let him keep Goliath. She would never kill Damian's pets (Morrison you have three days what were you thinking?!).

(EDIT: adding some more context to the Talia section of this post!)

After Talia healed Jason using the Pit and sent him to be trained, she left the League in entirety. For several comics, she was entirely independent and drifting - enjoying her life apart from Ras as her own woman.

For a brief moment in comics when Lex Luthor was the US President (yes that happened), he chose Talia to oversee LexCorp. Talia does not like Lex, but she agreed anyway in order to secretly change his company from the inside. While she put on a front to the public and Superman as another cruel businesswoman, in reality she was draining Lex's finances, shifting LexCorp into a more ethical direction, and digging up as much dirt as possible on Lex in order to take him down. She secretly gave Superman information on all of Lex's evil plans as she could, but didn't directly work with him. She wasn't LexCorp CEO for very long, but it was pretty much all she was doing until the events of Death and the Maidens. It can be assumed that while she was a CEO, Damian was being trained in the League in secret.

In Batman: Death and the Maidens, Talia was kidnapped and repeatedly tortured/resurrected in a Lazarus Pit by Nyssa Raatko (her half-sister) in order to brainwash her. She was killed, over and over and over again, then resurrected every single time afterwards in immense pain until she was filled with nothing but primal rage. Nyssa's goal was to use Talia as her own pawn against Ras in a revenge plot. The brainwashing made her a loyal follower of Nyssa, hate Bruce, and made her kill Ras without a second thought. Eventually, they succeeded in taking over the League - leading to the eventual storylines in Robin: One Year Later and Infinite Crisis where Nyssa is shown leading the League (before her unceremonious death). Ras eventually returns in the Batman: Resurrection of Ras al Ghul storyline that precedes Final Crisis/Bruce's death.

Some fans use this Pit event to explain Talia's butchered character in later appearances - making her abusive and cold to Damian and a full villain towards Bruce - as a consequence of this horrific brainwashing. It's definitely a far better explanation for her actions in Batman and Robin (2009) and Batman Incorporated than her sudden heel turn under Morrison. Unless you're completely re-writing her actions in the 2009-2011 era to be more in line with her original characterization, then this explanation is an easy add-in to explain her dynamic with Damian in your fic if you want.

You could take the complicated family dynamics of the al Ghuls and write some seriously heavy stuff on love and abuse and the cycles of trauma and violence. From Rúh to Ras down to Talia/Nyssa/Dusan down to Damian and Mara. It's one big circle.

Speaking of which, here's a list of all known al Ghuls for your convenience.

Rúh al Ghul - AKA Mother Soul. Ras' mother. She's fairly recent, but I think she's interesting enough to include. Unlike Ras' hard beliefs in science, Rúh is very spiritual and a practitioner of magic. Through her, it can be implied that every al Ghul has the possibility of learning magic. She believes in a figure called the Demon. Led the League of Lazarus on Lazarus Island, where she was basically imprisoned for centuries.

Ras al Ghul - real name unknown. The originator.

Sora - his first wife. Deceased. Killed by a raging prince who was healed by the Pit, as Ras did not know what it did back then.

Melisande - his second wife. Talia's mother. Half-Arab, half-Chinese. Deceased. Ras canonically met her at Woodstock (lol). She was murdered by Qayin, the antagonist of Son of the Demon. In some depictions (basically only Morrison) she was revealed to be alive and a fortune teller who hid her identity from Talia. (I think her being dead makes more sense for how Ras treats Talia, and her issues/love for her father).

Nyssa Raatko - I believe she's Ras' oldest child. Technically, she's been dead since Infinite Crisis and has not appeared in comics ever since. Canonically tortured and brainwashed Talia. Led the League for at least a couple months to a year. Half-Russian, part Arab and Chinese. Jewish ?, it's complicated. Canonically survived the Holocaust. Is immortal.

Dusan al Ghul - the first White Ghost. Albino. The forgotten and despised son. Still very loyal to Ras, does not call him father and instead calls him the Demon's Head. Mara's father. Is not immortal.

Talia al Ghul - the younger child. The beloved one. Damian's mother. Is not immortal.

Damian al Ghul-Wayne - you know already.

Mara al Ghul - Dusan's daughter. Damian's cousin. I think they're pretty much the same age. Raised in the League, led the Demon's Fist. Can be assumed to have been trained in the same subjects as Damian at the same time.

Compiling all of this, here's the things to NOT DO when writing the al Ghuls and the League:

Making them animal abusers, encouraging Damian to kill animals or showing him their deaths. The League stands for nature. They would not kill them unless its for food or mercy. It's insanely racist, even, to imply that a group of Arab-based people or Ras or Talia would gleefully brutally murder a puppy in order to teach Damian a "lesson."

Making Ras or Talia comically abusive. Ras would be hard on Damian and manipulate him. He's smart. He knows what he's doing all the time. He'd rather keep Damian's loyalty than turn him against him using physical violence. That doesn't mean he wouldn't ever threaten him, just..idk show some restraint when you write them interacting. On the other hand, Talia WOULD NEVER ABUSE HER SON. You could make an argument for Ras, but Talia would never ever hit her son unless she was forced to.

This is just common sense. DO NOT write the League or al Ghuls as racist, orientalist tropes. Research before you write? Use your brain. Please, I'm begging you. If you think of a concept you think might be problematic, look it up, try and find sources, ask around.

Make Ras weirdly obsessed with/in love with Tim. Seriously. What the fuck. This also weird and racist. I've seen horrendous tik-toks making shitty jokes over this. ITS NOT TRUE. STOP MAKING HIM A PEDO BC YOU THINK ITS FUNNY OR EVEN REMOTELY INTERESTING. Never once has Ras expressed a desire as making Tim "his bride" or some fucked shit like that. I'm going to beat you with hammers.

Having everyone take a dip in the Lazarus Pits/using them extensively to become immortal. As far as I know, only Rúh and Ras have used them frequently. Only they are the immortal ones, the ones arguably driven slowly mad by the unknown sciences of the pit. Talia is not immortal, she's not even that old, and she doesn't have the desire to be ageless. She has to be at least near Bruce's age, maybe younger than him depending on the timeline/your interpretation. Damian did not ever become exposed to the Pits until after he was killed in Batman Inc, and even then- he was NOT resurrected by it. (Actually I don't think he's ever been put into one.)

Having Talia hate Bruce. Like, No? Currently, they have more of a "we are Divorced but still care another but also we don't agree" dynamic. But they were once really in love, star-crossed even, they were married. But Ras and circumstances and even Damian pulled them apart. (I do think writing Damian as a child of divorce is both accurate and kind of funny).

Finally, demonizing all of the al Ghuls and making Bruce's half of the family Damian's saviors. THIS is racist. Full stop. Making his majority white family the "good ones" and "saving" him from his evil brown family is an insanely bad thing to write. We have to see it enough in comics, please don't write it into your fic. There can be redeeming things about the al Ghuls, about his life prior to meeting Bruce. Keep in mind, always, that Damian is part Arab/Chinese, that the al Ghuls are all a mix of Arab/Chinese ancestry and that they should/would be imparting their culture onto him. The League was where he was taught art, to appreciate animals. You could write Talia imparting certain tea preferences onto him, favorite cultural foods, practices, numerous languages. Ras is immensely proud of his own heritage, muddled by age it may be, there's no way he didn't let Damian express himself this way. I fully believe Damian is fluent in various Arabic languages and Chinese, and that his first language is not English.

My final message: think before you write. Consider the actual comics, in fact, I'll put one here for Ras.

Ras al Ghul: One Bad Day. Published 2023. Unfortunately written by Tom Taylor (sigh). Its still good though.

Ras kills some rich guys for facilitating the extinction of the wolf species you see. Of course, Bruce investigates.

Ras kills Bruce, keeps him dead for three months before resurrecting him in the Pit. Damian stays by Bruce's side. There's a lot more, but I implore you to read this comic for yourself to get the full experience.

Thus ends this post. Read this comic for yourself! Have fun writing them, just take these things into mind.

[vinelark]

do you have any good reverse robins fic to rec?

oh hell yeah!

Reverse Robins: Joker Junior series by miyaji_08 i rec’d the second fic in this series over here for the timkon of it all, but the series—two parts, both complete—is also one of my absolute favorite reverse robins stories. it goes the joker junior!tim route, so heads up for A Lot of tim-centric trauma, but gives tim (and everyone else) so much healing, too. it also gets creative with the robin of it all, as in, the call sign for batman’s partner is different from the jump because dick wasn’t around to originate “robin” for it, which i always think is a fun extra detail. the batfam characters are great and the young justice crew is also great, so read for top-tier hurt and comfort and great characters and satisfying plot and tim and damian competing to see who is the most Tired big brother of the bunch.

blood of the covenant by envysparkler robins are angsty in any order, but man does this hit the angst sweet spot, which in turn makes the soft parts feel even softer. i genuinely can’t decide what my favorite dynamic is in this AU, between damian & tim (damian wracked with guilt, tim hurting and still wanting an older brother even if he’d never admit it) and tim & jason (no spoilers but chapter 4 especially lights my brain up like a supernova) and tim & dick (i think about the part where dick grayson [tiny, cheerful] uses tim [undead, annoyed] as a jungle gym like once a week).

Wing Beats in Reverse by firefright a longfic where jason gets kidnapped by the mysterious red hood, who turns out to be jason’s not-so-dead predecessor. the jason pov here is great, and i was so compelled by how this AU explored his place in the bat family, and how it managed the emotional fallout from the kidnapping. tim is also so interesting in this—it does something i love in a reverse robins concept, which is make tim’s motivations (and lazarus pit effects) less about anger/hurt/revenge and more about ice cold logic, about being the villain so the bats don’t have to/whether they want him to or not. plus some league of assassins trauma as a cherry on top. also, kon gets to show up for a bit. (as a fair warning—and spoilers ahead—the fic has a somewhat hopeful ending for tim, but doesn’t reach full reconciliation in the scope of the plot.)

i woke up so worried that the angels let go by circees a short but potent batkids age reversal au that’s also a grisha au, starring duke as the coveted sun summoner that damian is trying to deliver to safety without mentally adopting a new brother (damian fails on the second part). even with my limited memory of grisha lore i could tell a lot of thought was put into this au, and i have a feeling it would be even better if you are able to catch all the details. i also love that even in a fantasy world where some of the bat family have magical abilities, duke is still extra special—a great analogy to being a metahuman among the bats.

The 90s Are Back! by RedWritingHood saving the two silly ones for last to lighten the mood! in this one, red hood!tim gets de-aged to sixteen and meets all his new siblings. it’s like .01% angst and 99.99% shenanigans, and pretty much all the dialogue is super quotable but Dick holds out his hands like he's calming a bunch of wild animals. "Okay, I know everyone's real upsetti spaghetti right now, but I think we all just need to calm down." might take the cake.

Clowns Don’t Kill People by mademoisellePlume very short, very silly reverse robins brother shenanigans, in which tiny dick grayson isn’t scared of recovering joker junior!tim because dick, having been raised in the circus, doesn’t associate clowns with evil yet. the fic is fun (and a great palate cleanser if you need a break from the angst above), and the author’s note at the end made me fully laugh out loud.

[higaneruthyll]

ELUYA

SSR DMG/Burst - Umbra Assassin Troupe position: Costume designer Play: Mikey (In the Name of Darkness), Eluda (League of Gods) Birthday: October 4 Join date: 1 year Race: Human Hometown: Tyriania Alias: Amaranthine Flower

Outfit: Trial Product - Each time Eluya tries a new design style, she tries on the clothing herself. This shows her confidence in both her design and her body shape.

Valentine's Day Outfit: Heartfelt Thoughts - Eluya is keeping it a secret where this well-designed outfit should be used, but the look on her face betrays her.

Weapon: Haute Needle (Sewing needle) - With her creativity and dexterity, the most iconic fashion designer Eluya uses the needle to tailor the pain for Dream Eaters.

Skills:

Basic Attack: Needlework Passive: Fickle Affection Active Skills: Fate Sewed (Dislocate/DMG), Quick Snip (Dislocate/Debuff) Ultimate: Ethereal Show (Debuff/DMG)

Awaken:

Stage 1: Bonus Skill DMG +10% Stage 2: Bonus P.DMG +5% Stage 3: Increased Fate Sewed damage for enemies with low HP OR short buff in DMG after casting Quick Snip Stage 4: Increase Unyielding by 20% OR increase Physical Lifesteal by 15% Stage 5: Increas P.DMG OR Armour Penetration by 20% Stage 6: Reduce healing received for target by 50% after Ult OR inflict 3 Dark Mark onto target after Ult

Voicelines:

Greetings (Morning): (Yawn) Morning Director, didn’t anybody tell you that all great designers are nocturnal animals? Greetings (Noon): Welcome, Director. Feel like changing your look today? Greetings (Evening): Good evening, Director. Have you been bewitched by this fine night as well? Greetings (Midnight): I come alive at midnight, Director. Think you can keep up with me? Weekends: Director, working on the weekend dulls my inspirations! You should take charge, find us some fun. Long time no see: Well, look what the cat dragged in! You’re a rare sight in these parts, Director. Hello at work: I must protest! Prolonged labour dulls the mind and dampens the aesthetics. Days off should be mandatory for me and you, Director. Prepare for combat: Fighting Crystalis Conflux always gives me fresh inspiration. Return from battles: Exercise really stimulates the mind! Excuse me, but I have designs to work on. Back to airship: Great job, Director! I’ve got something special for you… Ta-da! Fene’s new foot massager awaits its new sub- I mean, enjoyer! Shake: Director, your pranks sorely lack… finesse.

Affinity dialogue 1: Your sense of style is not bad, Director. Simply… a little stuffed. Affinity dialogue 2: Paying attention to the way you dress is basic etiquette, even for Dream Eaters. As for the Crystalis Conflux pigs, they’re beyond saving. Affinity dialogue 3: Behind the curtains is where the designer works her magic, but this designer is no slouch on stage either. WIP.

Touch (Head): Careful! There’s a pin in there. Touch (Body): How does it feel? I worked hard for these curves. Touch (Legs): Can’t help but touch them, hmm? Seems like Director knows the value of these legs. Touch (Continuous): An ornery child should be punished accordingly. Do you wish to be bound with a tape measure, or should I get to the point with the prick of a needle?

Leisure talk 1: I hear that a lovely maid does wonders for restoring vitality. Would you… like Euphie to give it a try, or perhaps give it a go yourself, Director? Leisure talk 2: Ridicule is the tribute of the mediocre to the genius. How pitiable are those who do not admire my designs. Leisure talk 3: Why do Rooco and Euphie refuse to wear my dresses? At least 30% is still covered… Leisure talk 4: Techwear seems to be in lately. I should give it a try… WIP.

First encounter: I am Eluya. You may know me as Tyriania's godmother of fashion and designer extraordinaire. Be glad and rejoice. Join team: Let’s aim for an elegant, graceful, beautiful victory. Face common enemies: Begone, you outdated eyesore. Face elite enemies: I’ll shred you and sew you back together, and still you’ll be lovelier! Face powerful enemies: Ah… the sanguine bloom would suit you so. I cannot wait!

Use skill 1: Fate Sewed! Use skill 2: To shreds, you say… Use skill 3: And trim like so. Use skill 4: Vanish! Use skill 5: You’re an ugly one! Use skill 6: Fine needlework! Ultimate: Inspiration comes… and it says failures like you need a do-over! Victory: Better than nothing. MVP: Praise! An ode to beauty. Ally at low HP: So it’s true… ugliness is fatal. Fallen: My work will gain such value… Companion down (Fene): The craftsman is gone, but her work remains…

Receive food 1: A pleasant aroma and a delectable texture. It is indeed my favourite. My thanks, Director. Receive food 2: It seems the Director knows what I’m fond of… This must be what special treatment feels like. Receive food 3: Mmm~ I can eat this all day. Seems like great foods require a chef’s touch. Receive food 4: Oh? Are you telling me this perfect body needs more fat? Receive gift 1: Mm, a present just for me? Well then, Director, what kind of… reward… are you looking for? Receive gift 2: I must say, your taste has improved quite a bit under my tutelage. Receive gift 3: I will keep it in my room and cherish it. This is my recognition of your taste. Receive gift 4: This… I think Rooco wanted it, why don’t you try giving it to her instead?

Lamb Tea Party dialogue:

Eluya: There must be something very important for you to ask me to leave my workshop to come here. After all, the time of a genius fashion designer is precious. Every minute we waste having tea here could cost me priceless inspiration. Isn't it important to rest as well? +600 Eluya: Never thought you were so caring. Prolonged work may dull your brain and concept of beauty. Of course, it is important to rest. However, is a cup of tea your idea of resting? WIP this branch of dialogue

Director: Eluya, have you ever hit a creative rut? Eluya: Hitting a design wall is rare for a genius. Usually, I can come up with five designs in the blink of an eye… What? You don’t believe me? How about you tell me whose combat suit needs to be redone and I’ll show you what a perfect design looks like? Mireya +600 Eluya: That strict instructor? Maybe it’d be better if she tried something new. Something that’s trendy and allows her to comfortably draw the bow and run… Overall, the best way to go about it is to use less fabric. Director: As long as you don’t influence Ume in a bad way…

Eluya: Director, a fitting outfit not only fits your body, but also fits your personality. For example, though they’re both kids, clothes that suit Rooco would be utterly unfitting for Isa. Does that make sense? Now then, answer my question. What do you think fashion is? You're a better judge of that than me. +600 Eluya: Although hearing you say that pleases me, fashion is not something that belongs to anyone in particular. Be they the nobility from Tyriania or the likes of the Dark World, everyone has their own idea of beauty. There’s no point in wearing clothes designed by Tyriania’s fashion godmother, aka me, without agreeing with my design concepts. After any Eluya: To be honest, though you’ve given me your answer, I still can’t imagine what kind of outfit suits you the best. Maybe it’s because your soul is… overly complex? Director: You’re just setting me up, and I fell for it again…

Personality:

Eluya has a reputation for being someone you do not want to cross - so much so that everyone in the Troupe advised the Director not to do so. In fact, in the past she has tampered with the outfits of the Troupe after they have suggested improvements, with some saying she made their outfits masochistic or more revealing. She has an interest in the Director, spending her weekends in her studio buying lace, bandages, leather and mesh fabrics. Her persona as a whole is perverted and sadistic.

History:

Relationships:

Personal Story:

Eluya creates a new outfit design for the next performance, but the package is accidentally sent to the Director and he opens it. Furious at her design having been leaked, she attempts to undress him to take his measurements. Meeting backlash, she decides instead to punish him by making him her assistant for life. WIP.

Chats:

If your profile picture is ugly, do us all a favour, and don’t send messages.

Eluya: Director, I’m afraid the design of our outfit for the Phantom of the Opera has to be put on hold for a few days… Eluya: I need to rethink the design with Carotta and the Phantom. None of the previous 15 versions works. Director: 15 versions are a lot! Did the actresses not like them? Eluya: No. Usually, the actresses like the first version of my design, but I just feel like there’s still room for improvement. Director: Since everyone is satisfied with the first draft, can’t we just use it? Eluya: Absolutely not. From a client’s perspective, it might seem satisfactory, but it’s not that easy to please a professional designer. Eluya: A good piece of work has to go through countless revisions, and I won’t approve any piece that doesn’t satisfy me. Director: You are very serious about this today, Eluya! Eluya: Am I? Do you like me better when I’m more serious or when I’m more casual? Director: I like you better when you are more casual, Eluya. Eluya: I knew you were going to say that, Director… Eluya: After I’m done with this design, let’s have a meal together. You cannot turn me down this time.

Letter:

Hoho~ The new Director, you are so cute! I can’t wait to have you put on the clothes I’ve designed. Fufufu… I can see your distrusting gaze. Do you know how great of an honour it is to be able to wear clothes designed by me, Eluya, the most fabulous fashion designer in the whole of Tyriania? After meeting you today, I wondered whether a bandage maid skirt or patent leather tights fit you better. After all, gender is negligible in the face of fashion. Make sure you let me know if there’s one that you prefer. Well then, we’ll leave the greetings simple today. Next time, I’ll bring the completed pieces for you to try on~

Official artwork:

[a-cacophony-of-silent-words]

Still Breathing Part One: Into The Tiger's Den

Chapter 6: Hook and Line

It’s cold. Not really something Alvin thought would bother him, but in this moment it commands his attention. Distracting him from the task at hand; Waiting and watching. He sighs and his breath forms a mist, that fades into nothing almost as quickly as it took shape. The frost is making him regret he left the jacket behind in his motel room, it's even making him miss his old cape. The cape was good for keeping warm at times like this, even if he did hate the fact that pretty much everyone dragged him around by it when they got the chance. Heroes, villains, even civilians on occasion. Fun times.

Shaking the reverie from his mind he tries to focus, he’s come too far in the past five months working towards this moment to let something like cold distract him. Bruce would be disappointed in him for the way he’s used Batman’s teachings lately, but Bruce wouldn’t have approved of going back in time at all. What Alvin gets up to in the interests of saving this damn family isn’t bound by Bruce’s opinions anymore. Besides, there’s no real point in worrying about that now. He’ll be disappointing Bruce and probably everyone else he’s ever known a whole heck of a lot more before the year’s out. Hell, before the night’s out if things go even a little wrong. But if that’s what it takes… then that’s what it takes.

Something stirs in the undergrowth on the forest floor below. Alvin tenses and leans out just a little from his perch in a giant evergreen tree careful not to dislodge any of the snow further out on the branch. He waits. Watching intently. Was it just an animal? Is his target running late? He should be here already.

No, wait. The undergrowth parts and a person dressed in thick black winter gear from head to toe, face covered by a mask and goggles, steps into view. About damn time. Operation: Piss Off Ra’s al Ghul is a go.

Without a sound, he drops out of the tree onto his target and knocks him out. Quick as he can, he trades clothes with the assassin and ties him to the tree. Not the most ideal of situations, but it’ll do. He doesn’t have time to do any better and if nothing else the guy can be grateful that Alvin didn’t leave him next to naked as well as unconscious in the snow. The clothes themselves fit nicely, which is a relief, Alvin had to watch for days before he found an assassin who looked to be the right size. He’s none too happy to know that the kid is maybe sixteen at most. Oh well, no use grumbling about lost inches now.

He cuts through the woods in more of a straight line than the usual patrol route and runs most of the way to make up for the time he lost trading clothes with his target. Reaching the last stretch of undergrowth he slows to a more leisurely stroll, adjusting his posture and stride to match the assassin he’s trying to imitate. The forest opens rather abruptly into a large circular field around a concrete building. It’s not a particularly large structure above ground, but Alvin knows he’s walking over decent sized complex just below the surface. It’s not the largest League of Assassin’s facility he’s ever infiltrated but its purposes are mainly storage of resources so it’s certainly not small. Which maybe makes it a terrible choice for a mission like this, but there are other reasons Alvin chose it over any of the bases in say Iran. Very good reasons.

A guard standing just to the right of the only entrance to the building watches Alvin approach. This is the most nerve wracking part of this plan. He’s been counting off the minutes since he left the assassin in the snow but if he’s off by even a little it could ruin the whole plan. Too early and the guard will figure him out before he even gets inside. Too late and he risks the next patrol finding their unfortunate coworker before he can get anything done.

Pushing his worries to the back of his mind Alvin keeps his breathing and movements steady, by his calculations he’s right on time. The guard makes a slight gesture with one hand as he slows to a stop. Asking the assassin if he saw anything on his route. Easier than trying to make out voices muffled by thick cloth. Alvin shakes his head. She nods and waves him on.

Mentally sighing in relief, he walks through the door and down the stone stairs into the base itself. At the bottom of the stairs he starts taking his time, pretending like he’s looking for something in front of the cameras. Not for the person on security duty, but for the recording. Better to not look like he knows exactly where he’s going when the tape gets reviewed later.

But he does know exactly where he’s going. If his meddling with time didn’t somehow manage to change the schematics of the place – the ones he memorized when he was Robin – then his goal should be… Ah, perfect!

He takes a turn down a random hallway walks until he finds a blind spot for the cameras, then doubles back, being especially careful not to get caught on any footage. He slips through the shadows until he gets to the camera just across from the security room. Standing just below it he pulls his bo staff out of the assassin uniform and extends it. Gently peels a panel off the bottom of the camera and sticks one end of the bo staff up against the circuit boards. He hits a button and the circuit’s spark and fizzle. The small red light on the front of the camera goes out.

Immediately Alvin moves over next to the door and waits. A moment later a very confused looking guard pokes his head out and Alvin promptly hits that head with his bo staff. The guard goes down like a sack of bricks. Alvin looks inside the command center, confirming his suspicion that there’s no one else in the room. No one’s really expecting an attack on a completely out of the way storage complex. He pushes the unconscious guard into the room and steps inside, locking the door behind him. Just in case he ties the guard up with a bit of twine he brought with him. The last thing he needs is this guy coming to and causing problems.

Now to do what he does best; fuck with Ra’s al Ghul’s tech.

He pulls the bulky rifle that came with the clothes off his shoulder and leans it against the wall next to the console. Removing the goggles too and leaving them on the floor. Not going to need those anymore, but it does remind him of something important. If the countdown in the back of his mind is right the next patrol is about to find the assassin Alvin left in the snow. They’ll raise the alarm fast as hell if Alvin doesn’t shut down their comms now. So he does, as discretely as possible. Nobody should know their communications are down for a little bit yet.

From there he goes deeper into the system, setting up all the little things that will keep anybody who tries to undo what he’s about to do to the system busy for a good few hours. Ra’s really needs to get techies who know better than to link so many important systems together like this. Oh well, he’s about to learn that lesson soon. Alvin sets up the final touches and checks the cameras. The latest patrol is running up to the door guard. Busted. Too bad… for them that he’s had plenty of time. He cuts power to everything but the cameras. If all goes well they’ll think he left the cameras working to drive home the ‘message’. Really it’s more like sending in a video resume. All part of the plan.

He takes a few moments to prepare himself and watches as the door guard gathers a few people to her. With a small group secured she starts leading them down into the facility, heading directly for the security room. Smart. He’ll have to keep an eye out for her in the next phase of his plan, she could be trouble. Speaking of which, about time he got started on that next phase. He climbs up on the console and starts fiddling with the screws holding the vent cover in place.

This facility was built long before Ra’s had ever encountered Batman and it was built to accommodate a fairly large amount of people. People who would need a lot of air. People who would need a way to escape if part of the building collapsed. So the vents were built large and with the intention that someone would be climbing through them. They haven’t bothered remedying that design flaw because it’s unlikely Bruce would ever take interest in this place. It’s definitely going to work in Alvin’s favor tonight though. He gets the vent open and holds it open with a pen as he carefully hoists himself inside. Safely inside the vent he kicks the pen loose and pulls the hood on the uniform up over his head.

Time to become the boogeyman.

.

The League assassins are well trained. Skilled in the art of killing. Capable of fighting under a vast variety of conditions. Willing to do anything to succeed in whatever mission they’ve been given. But they’re not immune to fear. Fear is a deadly weapon in the right hands, especially against people who don’t think there’s anything left for them to fear.

Alvin, perhaps better than most, knows how to terrify League assassins. Anyone can become unnerved by darkness. To have to fight an enemy they know nothing about who wears that darkness like a second skin is terrifying. Even to trained assassins. This is something Alvin can easily use to his advantage. Unexpected fear of what you’re fighting can lead to mistakes and not being able to see what you’re shooting at can lead to bigger mistakes.

Of course, Alvin himself is no stranger to fighting in conditions where he couldn’t see at all. Taking down enemies who are carrying flashlights and other light sources just in the vague hope of catching a glimpse of him is a piece of cake. There are a few who are capable of fighting in the dark, but they’re hardly King Snake. A few more have equipment – whether thermal or infrared – that allow them to fight like they might’ve if the lights were on, but those have wider blind spots than the ones with flashlights. Anyway it’s barely more than a few so it’s hardly an inconvenience.

Could’ve been a lot more trouble if shutting off the power hadn’t meant he ensured they couldn’t open the locks on their supply vaults. Sure, if he gave them time they could maybe get in manually, but he doesn’t have any intention of giving them time. Most of them go down fast and hard before they ever even see a vault door.

Their numbers are starting to dwindle, Alvin thinks maybe there’s twelve left. Out of the sixty-five in the facility to start with, that’s not bad. He reclines against the wall of the vent above an access point, catching his breath. The last fight was annoying. One of them clipped him with a knife and he’s still assessing the damage there. God, he’s so ready to be done with this. Back to work--

He freezes. There’s a dim semi-circle of light in the hallway below, growing steadily brighter and spreading further as he watches. Someone’s coming. He rearranges himself silently in the vent. Waiting.

A pair of assassins come into view, picking their way down the hall towards where Alvin had left his last group of defeated assassins. They’re walking almost back to back, shining flashlights in any direction they hear a noise from. Much more on their guard than any of the others. There’s something in the hand of one of them. Looks like maybe a transceiver. Someone, it seems, thought ahead for comms going down. Alvin’s willing to bet he knows who it was too. He hasn’t seen her at all since he got started. She’s probably back at the control center trying to get everything back online. It’s what he’d do. Thanks to her these two might be a tad more difficult to take out. Alvin really hopes Ra’s is paying her well, she deserves it. He follows the pair silently, waiting for an opportunity. Anything will do really. Just a distraction is enough.

They come across a group of their allies that Alvin left lying on the ground, mostly unconscious… probably. Slowly the one in front scans the group with his flashlight, less like he’s surprised, more like he’s looking for something. He must find it because he starts cursing when the light stops on a particular assassin and turns on the transceiver. Apparently that assassin was a pivotal part of their plan. Too bad he’s way too unconscious to be of any help. Alvin hears a rough voice respond with disappointment. She orders them to continue on to the vault, warning them that they shouldn’t linger too long or lapse in their guard.

It’s a warning that comes just a little too late. Alvin was ready to move the moment they started paying more attention to the radio than their surroundings. As she finishes speaking, he kicks the grate above the pair open and drops straight down onto the shoulders of the one taking up the rear. He uses his weight and a little momentum to toss this assassin into his companion.

He’s back on his feet before either of them can gather their wits. They’re scrambling for the flashlights they dropped in the collision, but Alvin’s faster. He swipes a knife off an already unconscious assassin and jabs it into the crook of the closest assassin’s arm, pulling it out as he spins to kick the other in the face. Ducking under a swipe of a knife held by the assassin behind him, he elbows the man in the crotch and sweeps his legs out from under him. That’s one down.

Out of the corner of his eye he sees the other assassin finally grab a flashlight off the floor and take aim. Alvin dodges back out of the glow of the flashlight. Staying just out of the light and moving quickly Alvin makes a much less easy target. Flashes of gunfire light up the room in brief intervals, bullets whiz by their mark coming to rest in the walls, the floor, and finally in the skull of the assassin Alvin had just knocked down.

The shock of hitting a friendly must hit the assassin hard, because he hesitates for just a moment and a moment is all Alvin needs. He moves in from the side knocking the gun and flashlight from the assassin’s hands before he can react. Swinging behind him Alvin locks an arm around the assassin’s neck and holds on tight. The assassin struggles, trying in vain to grab on to Alvin or shake him off. Gradually he falls to his knees, grasping at Alvin’s arm, trying to pull it away, struggling for breath. The strength in his desperate pulls slowly fades until his arms fall to his side and his body goes limp.

Releasing his hold on the assassin and letting him fall to the ground Alvin retreats a bit sinking to the floor. He’s just catching his breath, he tells himself. The voice of door guard demands updates from her subordinates somewhere to his right. Alvin turns his head to look at the radio lying in the blood of the dead assassin. This is probably as done as his job is ever going to be here. If this were the League Alvin knew from his original timeline – the Ra’s he knew – he never would’ve made it this far. He knows after this Ra’s will adjust and he’d never survive a second attempt. After all, as much as he hates the man, Alvin will never deny Ra’s is damned good at what he does. Right now though, Alvin is in a unique position of holding all the cards. All the months of playing cat and mouse with lackeys, all the sacrifices he’s had to make, and it’s all amounted to this. He needs to make it count.

Bait for a really dangerous fish.

Ignoring the way the blood soaks through his gloves, Alvin picks up the radio and takes a deep breath. “I’m afraid they can’t come to the phone right now, may I take a message?”

There’s a beat of silence, then the woman speaks in her thick, Russian accent, “You think yourself funny, yes, intruder? But when I catch I swear--”

“Let’s not go making promises we can’t keep.” Alvin cuts off what was sure to be a most gruesome threat against his person. He looks up at the nearest camera. “Listen, we could play this game all night, but I think I’ve already made my point pretty clearly, haven’t I?”

She’s silent.

“You have maybe nine people left with you, right? But you’re not stupid enough to think they’ll be any more difficult for me to take down than the last fifty.”

“…And you are not stupid enough to come hunting me when I know you are coming,” she responds, a bit more sedate now. “So our battle has come to stalemate.”

Alvin laughs ruefully. “Not really, it was never a fight between you and me after all. No… you all know what happens when I’m crossed now. If you’d be so kind as to pass that message along to the Demon’s Head, I’d be most obliged.”

“Bold, little shadow,” she says, slowly. “To know who it is that you trifle with and still do such things? I do not know if you are fool or simply crazy.”

“Well…” Alvin closes his eyes for a moment. “I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”

He drops the transceiver back to the ground and flips the hood of his stolen assassin uniform back up. Time to get the hell out. It’ll be a while before they get the power back on so by the time Ra’s gets his message Alvin will be long gone. It’ll be some time before he knows if he’ll get a bite… or if he’ll get bitten.

.

The Demon’s Head is unreadable in this moment. His eyes flicker from screen to screen as the events of the previous night unfold across them. One of his long fingers taps slowly against the side of his wine glass as if he were deep in thought. What those thoughts might be however is unknowable. He could be enraged at his assassins for failing to defeat one, young, unarmed intruder or perhaps he is angered at the nerve of the intruder himself. Maybe he is assessing the intruder’s work and planning how he will take precautions against such things next time or working on a strategy for revenge. There is also the possibility – however slight – that he is… interested, even impressed.

Rurik does not know. He has only relayed what was told to him by the survivors and has tried not to make any judgments on the intruder for himself. Though he cannot deny that an impression has been made. The intruder made short work of many skilled assassins. Some of them will never fight for the Demon again.

“How long in total?” The master asks, abruptly.

Caught off his guard at being addressed, Rurik does not know the question he is being asked. “My lord?”

Languidly, the Master’s eyes turn towards him, fixing him with that sickly green gaze for a terrifying moment. “From the moment he attacked the patrol to the moment he defeated the last operative, how long was it?”

“T-two hours, twenty-five minutes, and thirteen seconds, my lord.” Rurik answers, dutifully.

“How many casualties?”

“Of the sixty-five operatives in the base… two.” Odd. Potentially quite impressive, considering the damage that had been done to many of them. Twisted limbs, broken bones, some will be discarded as they have become useless to the League. Still the intruder had managed to avoid killing nearly anyone himself.

“I see.” The master leans back in his seat, sinking into the soft cushions and silken cloth that adorn it. He watches as the footage loops on the screens before him in silence for some time. Then he speaks again, almost as if to himself, “He is fascinatingly skilled for one so young… Every move is calculated far beyond what previous reports on him have stated.”

He glances down at the papers that Rurik had brought him, reports of encounters assassins had with this same young man. Encounters that had led to a futile attack against him. Seeming not to find what he was looking for the master lifts his gaze to the screens once more.

“His skills rival the detective’s, perhaps not as refined, but significant in similar fashion.” The master’s eyes narrow abruptly and he hisses, “How did he learn that?”

Rurik blinks and directs his attention to the screens as well. One of the attacks the intruder uses is eerily familiar. To his embarrassment it takes Rurik a moment to realize that it is a League killing technique, though it has been modified to be less lethal there can be no doubt. This man fights as though he were trained alongside members of the League.

“Hm…” The master sighs and sets aside his wine glass. “What information has been discovered about this young man?”

That question has only invited disappointing news. “Not much I fear, my lord.”

“Tell me all that you have uncovered,” the master responds, unbothered, as he leafs through the reports.

“As you command.” Bowing his head his head slightly, Rurik nods to the assassin controlling the screens. “Unfortunately, we have discovered nothing of his origins, we presume he is American, but we have found no documentation relating to him in our searches. In many ways it seems as though before May of this year he did not exist. At that time he began operating as a mercenary in the area of Ethiopia.”

Images of the young man appear on one of the screens. His hair had been shorter then, his clothes had been somewhat out of place. He had looked better suited to playing video games in a college dorm room than mercenary work. As they say though, looks can be deceiving, it is perhaps unfortunate that they had not thought to regard that old saying before last night.

On that thought, Rurik continues, “He carried out his first mercenary job near the border of Ethiopia and Somalia, a group of people were requesting that someone remove a local crime boss from the city. The intruder took this quite literally it seems. He kidnapped the man, took him into the wilderness with no method of returning to civilization, and abandoned him bound hand and foot in the desert just over the border in Somalia. He then proceeded to cut the legs out from under the man’s entire organization, destroying it entirely in less than a week.”

This information earns a raised eyebrow from the master, he seems almost amused by it.

“He took similar contracts as he traveled north. His first encounter with the League was in Yemen, where he stole a kill from one of our top assassins. From there he continued to steal kills or otherwise inhibit our work. He became a minor, but annoying thorn in our side, so we sent a mid level assassin to eliminate him, as this attack happened only days later and we have not heard from that operative, we presume him to be dead. That is all we know of him.”

The reports pass across the screen apparently unheeded, the master seems far more interested in the map of the intruder’s path from Ethiopia. “By what method did he travel?”

“We are uncertain, my lord,” Rurik admits. “We presume as his method of travel is undocumented that he managed through hitchhiking and stowing away.”

“Such an effort.” The master places a hand on his chin, stroking his beard thoughtfully. “He travels in a nearly straight trajectory for five months by the most difficult and dangerous means. I applaud his skill in planning but I do believe he failed to account for what this method of travel would make evident. He was aiming for that facility from the start.”

“M-My lord?” The questioning exclamation slips unbidden from Rurik’s mouth. Normally he would not think of speaking if not asked a question, but what the master has deduced seems near impossible. The thought is ludicrous. For a random young man who has never encountered the League before to not only have wiped out one of their less conspicuous locations but to have known about it this entire time? It is unthinkable. What vendetta could he have against them to warrant such dedication? Or is it perhaps--

Abruptly, a smile spreads across the master’s face and a chill runs down Rurik’s spine. “Find him. At once.”

“Y-yes, my lord.” Rurik bows. Hesitantly he ventures the question, “…and when we find him?”

“Bring him to me.” The master lifts his wine glass and reclines in his seat, his eyes drifting closed, his expression changing to one that resembles a large contented cat that has already caught the rat. “I would be remiss to not welcome such a promising recruit personally.”

.

Next Chapter ��

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[thatstheproblemwithnapkinman]

ok very quickly

in the main continuity as of the current timeline (just roll with it) there have been 5 or 6 robins depending on who you count plus other bats, currently there are 2 using the robin name

1. dick grayson, the first robin and gave the role the name, parents murdered at the circus and became bruce waynes ward, was robin for about a decade before getting fired by batman and is now nightwing, an incredibly important character for dc as a whole. in fanon he's the flippy bimbo one (*cries at the mischaracterisation*)

2. jason todd, was taken in by bruce after stealing the wheels off the batmobile (like straight after he fired dick) and was robin for around 3 years before he was lured into a warehouse, beaten to almost death by a crowbar, and then blown up, all by the joker. he came back as the red hood years later after some timeline and reality shit caused him to come back to life and he’s sort of a part time vigilante and part time crime lord, more towards vigilante these days. in fanon he's the angry *tries to murder tim* one (also just no)

note under jason, the lazarus pit did not bring him back to life, he came back bc of the reality shit with superboy and was put in the pit by talia al ghul a good bit after he came back. he also doesn’t really get the green over his eyes and the whole pit controlling him thing.

3. tim drake, was robin then not robin then robin again then red robin currently robin again. i know, nice and confusing, i will explain more in the next 2. he convinced batman to take him on as robin after jason’s death, he also figured out bruce wayne was batman, dick grayson was robin 1 and jason todd was robin 2. in fanon he's the sleep-deprived coffee addict one (still a big nope)

tim often goes by red robin in fanfics bc a) it's easier for hi to have a different name to the other robin and he has been red robin before, and b) wayne family adventures

4. stephanie brown, the forgotten robin. she is the daughter of clue master and the first robin to be her own vigilante before taking up the role, spoiler, when tim drake’s father made him quit and some things happened and she didn’t it to prove to herself and tim that she could. she got fired pretty quick and has been spoiler and a batgirl. in fanon she's the bimbo *not surprised is she isn't mentioned* one (also the girl one)

she is sometimes portrayed as a bimbo which is kinda rude to her as a blonde woman bc she is also super smart but because she is more comedic and quippy, she gets belittled to being a dumb blonde (similar to dick tbh)

5. damian wayne, tHe BlOoD sOn, long story but he’s real and bruce’s biological kid. raised in the league of assassins and had to learn to be less violent and also not kill anyone when he moved, he’s doing better now, also currently robin. in fanon he's the stabby *loves animals more than people* one (ok yeah that's pretty similar to canon, he is still mischaracterised but *shrugs*) EDIT: damian took over from tim forcing him to be red robin until recently when he went off to be with the teen titans and tim took over being robin for batman

6. duke thomas, not a robin under batman but was a robin during the we are robin movement and so some people do include him in the list. metahuman with light-based shit that i am not qualified to talk about as i’m only just starting to read his character but he is awesome and also just as batshit mental as the rest of them and is signal. he is the also forgotten *not as crazy as the others* one (just nope this dude risked his life and saved loads of people specifically during the robin war event with no powers and no suit and is wild he's great)

also need mentioning is cassandra cain aka either orphan, black bat, or batgirl depending on the writer, has her disability constantly mischaracterised but is a badass and is just so cool and i’m also starting to read more of her. in fanon she's the mute and uses sign language one (not how her disability works tho, it's a developmental disability as she never learned who to read or write or talk so she struggled to actually find the words which is something that sign language doesn't help with. she is not mute in the comics and has been learning how to read and talk and is almost at the same level as everyone else now)

and barbara gordon aka the original batgirl and now oracle or sometimes batgirl she is amazing, she got shot and more by the joker which paralysed her and she became the eyes and ears of the bats and then most of the hero world, has had experimental surgery and braces so she can walk again and currently in the comics acts as both batgirl and oracle. she is actually not done too badly in fanon bc she's just that awesome, she is often still wheelchair bound bc fanon isn't scared to show that physically disabled people are also badass

other potential figures that are less part of the family but still feature sometimes that i don’t know a lot about (i am reading up on them more)

- kate kane aka batwoman

- harper row aka bluebird

- luke fox aka batwing

and theres still more than hopefully other people elaborate on but there’s a super quick overview :)

oh and on the dying note, they have all died and come back, have fun with that

i want so badly to understand the batman lore because i want to read the fan fiction and actually know who’s talking but there’s just.

so.

many.

people.

why are there so many robins? from what i’ve gathered i think one of them died, came back to life, and isn’t TECHNICALLY a robin anymore but kind of sort of still is? i have that one narrowed down to being either nightwing or red hood, but i DONT KNOW because i’m trying to keep track of another two dozen children whose hero names are just variations of Robin.

there’s also someone named Signal who can maybe i think see ghosts or something? who is he? where did he come from? was he also a robin?

i just need like a google doc or something with summaries of who everybody is, with personalities and generally agreed upon fanon descriptions, along with WHO IS CURRENTLY OR USED TO BE A ROBIN. (WHY ARE THERE SO MANY OF THEM)

[coffee-latte-sprite]

Damian al Ghul and The Annoying Reporter

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Chapter 3

Agedup!Damian al Ghul x fem!reader

Warnings: violence

WC: 1,300

Synopsis:

Wanting to make a name for herself, Y/N does the unthinkable and tries to interview the heir to the League of Assassins. Although, it doesn’t go as planned. How will she be able to salvage this, especially when Damian Al Ghul doesn’t like strangers.

Her heart beats wickedly as the katana is forced further onto her skin. She tries to speak but is afraid the blade will cut through.

“I said, who are you?” The voice asked again with more power.

“I-uh,” her mind is blank with fear as the sword is the only thing on her mind.

The sword holder raises a brow at the woman. He couldn’t make out her face since she was facing away, but he is startled by the lack of fight in her.

Usually, when he has someone beneath his sword, they whirl around and fight, but this woman is shaking and unable to talk.

“Uh, you know,” she licks her lips as she tries to think, “if you want to like-you know-kill me, could you possibly do if after I print these pictures?” She asks softly as her grip tightens around her camera as another part of the building below explodes with fire.

The woman almost groans at the sight. That would be such an amazing picture.

The sliver metal digs deeper drawing a small line of blood, “Are you mocking me, woman?”

“No, sounds like you are doing it to yourself.” She antagonizes finding the “fight” in her.

“Oh, you’re dead!” He said as he pushes deeper, as a scream erupted from the woman.

Suddenly, the pressure of a sword leaves and clatters to the ground as the man who was above her, groans as his body slams to the ground.

She doesn’t have to be asked twice. She gets up, presses her finger down onto her camera’s button to take pictures, and runs as it is still pointed to the League’s home base.

She knew the pictures would not be the best quality, but it is better than nothing.

She doesn’t spare a glance behind as she runs, but unfortunately, she hears the gasps of someone running behind her.

“Ah! Leave me alone!” She says as she glances behind her to see the man, but instead, a big black dog.

As confusion wrapped around her, she lost track of her surroundings and ended up tripping over her feet.

She let out a yelp as she put her hands out in front of her, but she forgot about her camera. She tried to maneuver so that she’ll take the blunt of the force, but luck was not on her side.

She watched as the lens made an uneasy crunch and the rest of the camera crumbled to pieces before her eyes.

She screamed as the camera was in broken chunks, “NO! No, no, no, no, no!” She was a hysterical mess as she looked at her prized possession of her camera.

She worked long hours and days to save enough for this camera. She took better care of this camera than herself. She spent more money on her camera than her own self, while her dog took an easy second.

As she grabbed the pieces of her camera, a big paw landed in front of her. She let out a gasp as the Great Dane loomed over her.

“Woah!” She let out as she put her arm in front of her to shield herself from the animal.

It lets out a huff as its snout came to her forehead. His nose bumped against her hair and pushed her back.

“What?” She asked as the big dog continued his actions. She began to stand up as the dog began to push her further back, “wait!” she yelled as she ran around the dog and searched through the broken fragments of her camera.

SD card. SD card.

She chanted in her head as she looked for the card. She was not going to let her camera die in vain.

She let out a sigh as the little blue card was safely in her hold and stood back up.

As she turned back to the dog, in front of the Dane was a large man who wore a scowl, a sword, and a long green robe.

“AH!” She let out as her leg came up and kicked him directly in the kneecap.

The man let out a string of cruses as he fell to one knee, but the woman wasn’t done.

As he was now down, she brought up her knee to his face and clocked him right in the nose.

===

“Get out of my way,” Damian said to the woman who stood in front of him.

Her arms were held out wide to stop him, and he was growing more and more agitated.

“No,” she said as she stood her ground.

Damian could easily slice her neck and leave her here to rot, but his loyal -not loyal anymore- companion of a dog, stopped him from killing her, unfortunately.

Titus plopped down by her feet and looked up at him as well.

“Just because the dog doesn’t allow me to kill you, doesn’t mean that he dictates if you can accompany me.” He said as his eye twitched.

Titus barked.

“Hear that? He said I can come.” Y/N said as she let a cocky smile grace her lips. Damian has never been more eager to kill someone.

Damian looked down at his dog. Irritation growing within a mere second. “Keep this up, and you and Alfred are going to be very comfy.” He pointed to Titus.

Y/N raised a brow, “you named your cat. . . Alfred?”

Damian’s eyes rose back to hers, “Yes, do you have a problem with that?”

A beat passed, “Well, yeah. Who name’s their cat Alfred?”

“Yes, just like who names their daughter Y/N?” He fires back.

A gasp escapes her as Damian feels a sense of pride as he hurt her ego.

“You want your other kneecap broken?” She challenged as she stepped forward toward Damian.

Damian matched her steps, “Do you want a sword through you?”

They fell into a standstill as they stood outside the safehouse deep within the mountains.

After Y/N hit Damian’s kneecap, she grabbed his sword and tried to kill him, but her tactics were weak as Damian overthrew her in an instant.

Titus was the one who broke up the fight, again, seeing the journalist as an ally. To the misfortune of Damian who wanted nothing more than to slide his katana through her.

Seeing that the woman was not worth his time, he continued on his original journey of getting his pets to the safe house he built specifically for them.

Bat cow and Alfred took the opportunity to make themselves comfortable in the house, while Titus was refusing to move from his spot on the outside.

That is why they are currently standing outside the building with two of the most stubborn beings in the world.

After Y/N found out who Damian was, she was determined to get every piece of information out of him as possible for her “exclusive story," starting with his journey of vengeance against Slade.

Damian stepped back, “TT, I will not waste my time with you, out of my way.” He states as he looms back to his terrifying stature.

Y/N is not at all affected by this, “Well, you are a waste of time, but I’m paid to waste my time with you, so let’s go.” She said as put her arms over her chest. Titus stands up, ready to go with them.

“No, neither of you are coming!” Damian stressed as the journalist and his dog looked at him, with no wavering determination.

They turn around and walk into the mountain tops.

“Come back here!” He yells.

They don’t.

He groans, “I won’t tell you twice!”

“Because apparently, I have to tell you everything twice,” Y/N yells back as her strides don’t stop.

Damian huffs, as his eyes, twitch again.

This is not going to be fun, but he pulls his feet alongside theirs.

Taglist: @royalmuffinsworld

[thatasianstereotype]

Fuck. I’m Gay.

I’ve been reading a lot of ml salt fics lately (mainly @unmaskedagain which is a literal goldmine of saltiness). And getting into the Damienette ship. Marinette really does deserves better (Fuck Canon) but so does Adrien. He is not a “sidekick”. Chat Noir and Ladybug are partners = equals. So I decided why not write a fic where Adrien gets his own happy ending in the form of a grumpy assassin-turned-vigilante that loves animals more than people. 

Somewhat of a crack writing where creative liberties were definitely taken. 

.

.

.

Lila Rossi is a bitch and everyone knew it. Well, by everyone, Adrien means himself, his good-amazing-make-pastries-for-him friend Marinette, his maybe-not-really-sure friend Chloe and his-not-that-close-really-classmate Nathaniel. 

Yeah. It was a small number. 

But Lila is still a bitch. 

Anyway, Lila’s lies and manipulations have disturbed the status quo and not in a good way. She ended up making the majority of the class fawn over her like she was a perfect goddess and not a pompous-temperamental-hormonal teenager. Teenagers were prone to be gullible; he can understand his classmates being inclined to believe her. But this was utterly ridiculous (man, Chloe is rubbing off on him). No. You know what’s even more ridiculous? Ms. Bustier letting Lila get away with it. She doesn’t even stop the class mistreating Marinette who claimed she was a bully just because of you know who - Fucking Lila Rossi. The audacity of that bitch and her bitchy followers, am I right? 

Growing up he watched the tv shows and the animes. High schools always had their drama but he thought that was to get some plot going on. He didn’t think it was an actual thing that happens in real life. But he was proven wrong. Françoise Dupont High School had their drama and it was way worse than what he watched on screen. 

The worst part was that he couldn’t get away from Lila. Or he’ll be pulled from school (Fuck you Dad). He had to sit next to that bitch and listen to her drone on and on about things they both knew she didn’t do, about things she promised to do for her ever gullible followers friends. And couldn’t say anything against it if he wanted to stay in school. But even his discreet questioning didn’t do that much. It got some of the class to think something’s possibly fishy with her stories but not enough to think Lila was evil. So he just gave up. Because what was even the point? 

He was distancing himself from Alya and Nino. He couldn’t really be friends with people who thought Lila held the sun and moon. They didn’t hang out as much as they used to and he made excuses when they did invite him to stuff. Lately, he was making outrageous excuses - like he had to take his cat to the vet even though he didn’t have a cat - to see if they caught on. They didn’t. It was fun but he didn’t know whether to feel happy or sad about that. But feeling sad-depressed-pain over it was a bitch so he decided to take his victories as they come. 

Chloe had left the school earlier on. Her mom wanted to spend one-on-one time with her daughter (Yeah, Audrey is better at being a mother here). She was completely out of this drama mess. And Nathaniel kept his head down to not paint a target on himself. 

His only consolation and ally in this whole mess was Marinette. His darling angel. His sunshine incarnate. His own goddess (not like that bitch Lila let’s get one thing straight). 

When he was feeling overwhelmed (which was a lot), he spent it at her house. They spent it discussing fashion, trash talking Liar-la and the sheep class, playing video games, and making/eating the best baked goods in all of Paris. If he wasn’t at his photo shoots or at school, he was at her house. And with how often they spent time with each other, it wasn’t long before they accidentally revealed their alter egos to each other. 

(The class’ Everyday Ladybug was actually Ladybug. How amazing is that! Isn’t Marinette the absolute coolest?!) 

Since they outed themselves to each other, they had to give up their miraculous. And new heroes had to be chosen. As the guardian, Marinette decided to give the Ladybug miraculous to herself and the Cat one to Adrien. And make them the superheros of Paris. 

(Just when he thought that Marinette couldn’t get any cooler) 

They both collectively decided that being friends were for the best and put away their obsession crush over the other far far away. Now they were best friends-almost siblings. Oh who was he kidding? He was an honorary Dupain-Cheng. Marinette and her parents said so. And who was he to deny the goddess? 

All was well. 

Until he met this gorgeous boy with raven black hair and piercing green eyes that made him question everything in life. 

Like fuck. His life wasn’t hard enough already? 

.

It was a slow patrol. Just stopped a few petty crimes. No akuma tonight. He wasn’t really expecting much to happen.

Mari said patrolling regularly gives citizens a sense of security and it helps if one of them were on scene if an akuma does appear. 

He didn’t mind. He loved running on the rooftops and feeling the wind in his face. After some time, he stopped and stood on top of one of the tallest buildings. Just soaking the view. The peace and serenity of it all. Seeing the glowing lights of his beloved city. Seeing the Eiffel Tower standing tall and proud. 

(Forget school. Forget Liar-la and her hoard of bitches) 

This was his city. This was why he fights Hawk Moth with Ladybug. They had something precious to protect. 

He was done patrolling the regular routes and all his schoolwork was already finished. He could go to sleep but he didn’t feel that tired. And he really didn’t want to go back home. Mari shared her theory on his dad being Hawk Moth. She had really good reasons and a plethora of proof. If they could switch miraculous, why couldn’t he and Mayura - most likely Nathalie? Which would explain how Gabriel got akumatized.

After all her support with dealing with Lila, he was way more inclined to believe her even without the evidence. But those things just made him more wary of his dad. And he wasn’t too stoked on spending more time than what he can get away with with the guy. Because his dad being Hawk Moth explains why he wants Lila (his strongest supporter - Chameleon and Oni-chan, anyone?) close and makes Adrien play nice with her. And anyone who enables Lila’s bitchiness is on his enemy list. 

Anyway, he was out here to enjoy the good mood not think about evil bitches and evil dads. So he sat himself down and enjoyed the sights. It was more calming than you would think. 

He heard cars blaring and even a dog barking. The slight breeze felt nice. The moon was pretty bright tonight. The stars too. There was a lone couple walking through the park. There was also another teen in black running on rooftops a few buildings away. 

Wait. 

What? 

He blinked and looked again. Huh, there was another teen in black running on rooftops. And it was not a hallucination. 

What the actual fuck?

He was instantly on his feet, baton already in hand as he raced across the roof to reach said stranger. 

“Hey!” 

But because he was the lucky owner of the unlucky miraculous, the moment he said that, the guy was about to jump off a building to presumably roll onto the next one like Chat was watching him do beforehand. But his call made him lose focus and Chat watched horrified as the guy slipped and started falling into the alley. 

Oh fuck! Mari was going to fucking kill this dumbass kitty!

He hoped to everything that Mari thinks is holy that he makes it in time. Extending his baton, he used it as a huge Pogo stick to basically catapult himself towards the stranger and wrapped his arms around him as he braced himself for the full weight of hitting the gravel at this height and speed. But he wasn’t that that concerned. His suit protected him from the majority of the injuries that would’ve occurred if he wasn’t wearing it. It hurt but it isn’t as bad as it could’ve been. Remember earlier? He takes his victories as they come. 

This was not the smartest of ideas, he’ll admit. Mari had the brains to be honest. But it wasn’t bad if he say so. And he does say so. 

He rolled over and immediately looked over the stranger that was remarkably unharmed in this whole mess. 

And oh.

Oh.

The stranger was taller than he was with a lithe and lean frame. He had raven black hair that complimented his tanned skin and gorgeous green eyes that pierced through him, making his heart do funny things. 

He was not expecting him to look as hot as he did. He wore a simply black t-shirt and jeans but he looked like a fucking Adonis, what the fuck.  Even the moon shone down on him, highlighting his handsome features even more.  

He shook himself of those thoughts and focused on what was more important. “I’m so sorry. Are you alright?” 

He was rudely pushed away, but he didn’t take offense. He did cause the guy to fall after all. 

“Do not touch me.” (What kind of accent is that?) “I’m fine. You are truly a moronic imbecile of the highest accord to yell like that. And what are you even supposed to be? Some kind of knock-off Catwoman?” 

At that, Chat looked at Hot-And-Sexy weird. “Are you new here? I’m the superhero Chat Noir. I protect Paris with Ladybug.”

“You’re joking.”

“I know I come off as the goofy hero because I make purr-fect puns all the time but I’m not joking about this.” 

He took out his phone to show the foreign (since he’s obviously not a Parisian) stranger the akuma attacks and Ladybug and Chat Noir being a dynamic duo, saving Paris and beating Hawk Moth. Ok, he showed the stranger a lot of stuff. Sue him. He gets to brag about his Princess. And himself too.

“I never heard about this before.” Hot-And-Sexy (he has got to come up with a better name) said afterward. “3 years this has been going on? Why didn’t you ask for help from the Justice League or other superheros?” 

Chat shrugged. “We tried. But they said we’re obviously pulling a prank and making this all up. So we stopped asking for help.”

For some reason this made Hot-And-Sexy angry. “They ignored your plea for help and left you to fight for yourselves?”

“Pretty much, yea.” 

“You and Ladybug are children.” 

“Excuse me? Are you doubting our ability to protect our city?" He was not apologetic at the sharp edge his voice took. Forget looking hot. How dare he? The audacity really. 

Hot-And-Sexy shook his head. “I’m not. I know some child superheroes who are adequate at their jobs and a few who are remarkable like Robin in Gotham. But the majority of them had adult mentors to guide them. From what you’ve shown me, you and Ladybug had no one. You were left alone to fend for yourself with essentially no help.” 

He never thought of it that way. But hearing it like that made him think: Fuck Adults Who Chose Children to Fight Their War For Them and Fuck Hawk Moth For Putting Them In This Position In The First Place. 

You know what. Just to clear all his bases - Fuck Everyone But The Dupain-Chengs. 

Chat couldn’t help but shrug, not quite knowing what to say to that. “Life is a bitch, I’ve come to find out. But enough of that. Why were you running on rooftops anyway?”

“It calms me down.”

Relatable. 

“Is...Is your tail moving?” 

“Huh?” He looked behind him to see his tail was indeed moving lazily. “Yeah. I’m called Chat Noir for a reason.”

“May I touch them?” Chat was used to people (usually kids) pulling on his tail to see if it was real (It was). And it really hurts because they usually rough. Not that he blames them. Kids don’t know any better. Still, he usually says no when people ask. 

But Hot-And-Sexy had such a sincere expression that he said yes. To his surprise and delight, Hot-And-Sexy was extremely gentle (Can this guy be anymore perfect?) and it felt nice to be petted like that. Curse his touch-starvation (again Fuck you Dad).

Hot-And-Sexy was apparently fascinated by his ears and tail. 

“Are you a meta?” He noticed how Hot-And-Sexy’s voice turned softer and fonder (or was he imagining that?).

“Nah. I’m fully human. I just got powers to transform into this.” He looked down at his phone seeing that the time was nearing 2 am.

“Have you suffered any injuries from your stupid stunt?” 

“Hmm?” Chat looked back at him before gesturing to his body. “Don’t worry. I may not look like it but I can take it.”

He can practically feel Hot-And-Sexy rolling his eyes. “What an utter dolt.” 

But there wasn’t any heat behind it so he didn’t take it to heart. 

“Thanks, babe.” 

“That was an insult.”

“And I’m taking it like a compliment.”

Chat stood up and stretched his limbs. Hot-And-Sexy doing the same but dusting off his clothes instead.

“So, uh, need any help getting home?”

“I am perfectly capable of finding my own way, thanks.” 

“Ok. Have a nice night.” He was about to leave when he was caught off guard by Hot-And-Sexy staring at him for a good few seconds, making his limbs freeze in place at the heavy attention.

Before he said. “You should try contacting the Batfamily in Gotham about Hawk Moth. They’re used to dealing with weird things. I’m sure they won’t turn you or Ladybug away.” 

Chat was a bit distracted by how intensely those green eyes focused on him, making his heart beat faster and his cheeks turn a vibrant red. 

He was so screwed. 

He used his baton to shoot himself up so he can run on rooftops, hurrying to the Dupain-Cheng bakery. 

.

“Mari! I think I’m gay!”

“It’s 2 in the morning, Chaton. Go to sleep and we’ll talk about it in the morning.” 

.

After a good night’s rest (and thank everything that was right in the world that today was a weekend), Adrien told Mari all about Hot-And-Sexy. And yes, he did call the stranger that out loud. His everything-that-actually-matters sister simply took it in stride after giggling a bit. They spent the majority of the day discussing emotions and everything that came with that bundle. 

Before he finally came to a conclusion. 

He is definitely gay (He liked girls but not like like them). And most definitely had a crush on Hot-And-Sexy with the pretty green eyes. 

Good news: He is no longer having a sexuality crisis. 

Bad news: He is going through an emotional crisis. 

Like dealing with these feelings that is making his stomach flip flop over and over again? The only one he ever had to deal with was the one he had on Ladybug and that (he talked with Mari about it months before. She was amazing with these emotional matters) was more of a hero-worship crush than anything really romantic. 

And his crush on Hot-And-Sexy was so much more. 

.

So it’s been about 2 weeks since he encountered Hot-And-Sexy. And he still haven’t figured out what else to call him. But the nickname was growing on him. 

(He also told Mari about asking the Batfam for help but she was a bit apprehensive after the disastrous attempts of convincing the Justice League. He shrugged, trusting her opinion and left it at that) 

Anyway, Lila was being her usual bitchy self. Father was being non-existent like always. Mari was his only source of sanity at school. And Hawk Moth was being a bitch. 

Because of course, the day before they have a huge test, he decides to akumatize someone (in this case, a businessman who was really unhappy with getting fired) and cut in on study time. And this akuma took a while to defeat. Guess he drew a lot of strength from his burning hatred of the failings of the corporate world. 

And just yesterday, a teenager who was upset at being grounded got akumatized and terrorized the city for 3 hours before Ladybug could purify her. It did however confirmed her fears. Hawk Moth was getting stronger. It took longer to defeat his monsters. They needed to find him and ended this fast. 

Adrien landed on Mari’s balcony and slipped in her room, crashing on her big comfy bed, de-transforming on the spot. Plagg sleepily floating and laying next to him on the pillow. He was so tired. And photo shoots and school drama were not helping things.

.

For the record, he was not at all expecting to see Hot-And-Sexy in a bookstore of all places. 

He was so engrossed in looking through the latest Boku no Hero Academia manga (can’t wait until Season 5 comes out) that when someone touched his shoulder, he was not proud to admit he squeaked a bit.

He turned around and his eyes widened his surprise. 

“Hot-And-Sexy!” 

It was indeed the Adonis Adrien had a huge crush on. Today he was wearing a white t-shirt paired with a blue denim jacket and black ripped jeans. Wow. He really can make anything look hot.

No. Bad Adrien. Don’t let him know you actually have a crush on him.

And oh fuck. Hot-And-Sexy was staring at the blonde and Adrien tried not to let himself get flustered. He has a very intense stare. For all he knew, Hot-And-Sexy stares at everyone like that.

Calm the fuck down, heart. You too brain.

He raised a handsome eyebrow in amusement. “Excuse me?”

Adrien felt himself burn with embarrassment, his face turning bright scarlet. No wonder he was fit for the unlucky miraculous or was this just a side-effect? Note to self, ask Mari about this later. 

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t get your name last time. And I just started calling you that in my head. Cause you’re really hot and you have pretty eyes.”

Fuck mouth! Why won’t you stop talking! Please for the love of everything that makes Mari a BAMF stop. Stop digging further into the hole of embarrassment! Abort mission! Abort!

“When did we meet?”

At that, he blink a few times. Oh fuck. He was not Superhero Chat Noir. He was Civilian Adrien Agreste. Mari was definitely murdering his dumbass tonight. Lightning please strike him down right now. Where was an unlucky lightning strike when you need it?

After a few seconds of his horrified silence, Hot-And-Sexy chuckled (he had such a nice laugh). “You are extremely lucky I already figured out your alter ego beforehand, Chaton.”

Before Adrien could even unwrap that statement, he held out a hand and had a dangerously sexy smirk on his face. “My name is Damian Wayne. Would you care to get a cup of coffee with me?”

And Adrien nodded his head, not trusting himself to speak. He can deal with the superhero thing later when he can think straight (hah!) and is not distracted by Damian’s beautiful smile and alluring green eyes and perfect everything.

.

Guess what?

Ya Boi got game.

(At least, he likes to think he does)

After a successful coffee date (was it a date? Please let it be a date), they exchanged numbers (cue internal squealing) and met up a few times afterward to hang out.

Apparently, Dami was here on business to deal with something for Wayne Enterprises.

“Aren’t you 17?”

“Father believes in preparing us when we’re young.”

Dami was amazingly sweet. Arrogant and pretentious with a stick up his ass but sweet. He treats stray animals with such reverence that Adrien’s heart melt every time he sees it.

It was an added bonus when Damian scorned Lila with cruel words and disgusted looks when she tried to cut in Adrien and Dami’s date(?)/meetup(?)/spending-time-together event.

She cried and whined afterwards and Adrien has to endure his father’s lecture. But it was totally worth it.

Oh yeah. Mari was not pleased that he accidentally outed himself to a civilian. But nothing that a couple of sad kitty eyes can’t fix.

“You are so lucky you’re cute, kitty-cat.” Mari grumbled but she was smiling. “I just need to have a good talk with him on the importance of secrecy.”

.

That day Damian Wayne learned to fear a certain Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

.

It was 2 weeks later when Adrien woke up to a package next to his futon in Mari’s room. When he opened it, he saw the Butterfly and Peacock miraculous inside.

There was a card beneath it. And in beautiful cursive script read: 

I dearly hope you enjoy my courting gift, mon amour. Allow me the honor to formally ask you out on a date. I look forward to hearing favorably from you soon.

- Damian Wayne

He couldn’t believe it.

“Mari! Damian likes me back!”

“Chaton, I swear. It is 2 in the morning.”

Next

[alexiessan]

Senses - Chapter Three - Soulmate AU

AO3

Previous - Here - Next

Master List

Damian was sitting in front of the computer in the Batcave, his hand on the mouse, the pointer hovering on a file with his soulmate’s name. He was hesitating and it annoyed him. He never hesitated, so why now?

After his family met Marinette when she had briefly taken over his body at dinner three days ago, Tim has made his research on the girl, and it was very easy to find everything he needed. His father and his brothers all knew everything there was to know about Marinette Dupain-Cheng, but Damian had yet to open the file.

It wasn’t the first time that they did research on someone like that. It was even a common occurrence, they couldn’t afford to trust people easily, and a background check was the bare minimum they did when a Wayne met someone they would have to interact with more than once. So, of course, they would do the same for Marinette, since she would be a permanent addition to Damian’s life, and that she would one day come to know their secret.

And yet, as Damian looked at the screen, he was hesitating. For three days now, he had sit at the computer, looked at the unopened file for long minutes before leaving the room, unable to open it. There was something in him that screamed at him to not open the file. That he should get to know the girl without checking every aspect of her life.

It also screamed at him that Marinette was respectful of his boundaries, letting him decide if he wanted to share things about him with her and never asking for his last name when he didn’t give her one.

His gut feeling told him that he shouldn’t open this file. Plus, if something were wrong with the girl, if she was dangerous for them or anything, his family would have found it and would have told him right away, not caring about his opinion on the matter.

Damian left the room and the file stayed unopened on the computer screen.

When he left the room, however, he didn’t find himself in the corridor as he should have, but in a very pink room. Marinette was sitting at her desk, scribbling something in a notebook.

Even if he couldn’t see what she was doing, deep inside, he knew exactly what she was doing.

“So, you’re into fashion,” he asked, his voice breaking the silence in her room.

He watched as she stiffened, not jumping at his voice this time. She turned around to face him, frowning.

“How do you know that?”

He shrugged, not really sure how he knew himself. “The bond, probably. I know it because you do?”

Her blue eyes met his green ones and she seemed to analyze him for long minutes before she tilted her head and said, “You like drawing, don’t you?”

He stiffened before forcing himself to relax. So it was really the bond that made them know stuff like that. He nodded and she kept watching him. She turned around abruptly, picking her pen up, and started drawing again, not asking him questions.

On one hand, it was a good thing. He didn’t want her asking questions. On another hand, he didn’t like how good she was at reading him.

“A friend’s birthday is coming up so I’m going to make her a dress. She likes pink and cute things so I’m trying to make it super cute.”

He nodded, not really listening. He didn’t care about her friends. He looked around, wincing at all the pink before his eyes stopped on her bed. There were a lot of animal plushies on it. A big cat, a dog, a hamster…

“You like animals,” he asked, his eyes not leaving the plushies. That’s something they could have in common.

He glanced her way when he felt her eyes on him and she had a fond look and a soft smile on her face.

“Yeah, I do. I always wished we could have a pet, but with the bakery, it’s not possible. I wanted a hamster for the longest time because it wouldn’t leave hair everywhere as a cat or a dog would, but even that was a big nope,” she sighed. “You like animals too, right? You seemed to love Titus very much.”

He nodded. “I also have a cat and a cow,” he shared with her. That was the only thing he was willing to share at the moment, he didn’t trust her with anything else.

“That’s nice,” she said softly.

But then, he wasn’t in her room anymore but in his, aware that he had made his way back to his room when the other part of him was with Marinette.

Alfred the cat was napping on his bed next to him and Damian sighed as he petted him softly, careful not to wake him up.

“I guess it’s a good thing I didn’t open that file…” he whispered to himself.

Just this once, Damian decided it would be better to learn to know Marinette the normal way.

Who knows how long it would take for her to gain his trust, or for him to gain hers — even if she shared things about herself with him, it was obvious that her trust was not easily gained. Something told him that it wasn’t always like that though — but he would do it the normal way.

Ladybug cursed at the sight in front of her. Paris was completely destroyed. Buildings had collapsed on themselves, people were screaming in the street, and Chat Noir was panting beside her, just as exhausted as she was.

An Akuma had appeared a little bit less than an hour ago and had done so much damage already. She didn’t care about their name and she didn’t think that this particular Akuma even gave them one in the first place, she only cared about how they were going to defeat him.

The Akuma could create shock waves, small ones, and big ones, which explained the collapsed buildings. Whenever they approached the Akuma, they would create a small one that would throw them away from her, and damn did it hurt.

She had hurt her head pretty badly earlier, and she was sure that she had a concussion if the way her vision blurred and how she struggled to speak full sentences were any indicators.

And then, to make things worse, Damian had to appear beside her right in the middle of an Akuma attack.

“What the hell…” was his reaction when he saw the amount of destruction in the French capital.

He then looked at her, his eyes widening. Yeah, she knew that she looked like hell, and like she was about to collapse any second now, thank you very much.

“You’re a hero,” he said in a serious voice.

Not really what she was expecting him to say, but then again, he was seeing her as Ladybug and not Marinette, so fair enough.

So much for secret identities.

“Now is not the time for that,” she said or tried to at least as her words came out in yogurt.

“What did you say,” asked Chat beside her but she paid him no mind.

Damian was in front of her in an instant, his hand cupping her face, inspecting the left side of her head where the blood was coming from. It was the first time they touched, she thought, and she could actually feel him, feel his warmth and it was weird but right at the same time and… And she couldn’t think straight with her head pounding like that.

The green-eyed boy cursed. “You got a concussion. A pretty bad one. Your partner needs to end this as soon as possible.”

Ladybug shook her head, making Damian release her face. “I can’t. I have to help him. I need to call my luck charm,” she said, but the look on her soulmate’s face told her that her words were yogurt once again.

She turned away from him and towards her partner who was looking at her, waiting for her to form a plan, to go back into the action, to just do something, but Ladybug didn’t know what to do anymore, she just wanted to lie down and sleep, and her head was killing her and-

And before her thoughts could spiral more, she called her lucky charm.

She honestly couldn’t remember what her lucky charm was, what her plan was nor what they did, but the Akuma was dealt with, the white butterfly released, and the Miraculous cure cast.

And Damian was still there, staring at her, his left eyebrow raised as if he was judging her.

“Are you going to talk?”

Ladybug sighed. It’s not like she had much of a choice now, did she?

Damian found himself on the Bat computer once again, researching Hawkmoth and the Akumas. Marinette had told him about the day the terrorist appeared, taking control of one of her classmates to wreak havoc in the city. How she had found her Miraculous and was basically told to go save the city. Her, a thirteen-year-old at the time, without any training or adult supervising her.

Who could be so stupid to throw a teenager in such a mess like that?

Yeah, Damian was younger than she was when he became Robin, but he’s been raised in the League of Assassins since his birth, he knew what he was doing, unlike Marinette who was acting on instinct.

Tim appeared behind him, his footsteps were silent.

“So you found out about her being Ladybug?”

Damian glared at him. “You knew?”

Tim raised an eyebrow at his younger brother. “You didn’t?”

Damian scowled and turned his attention back to the screen. “I didn’t open your file. I found out because I visited in the middle of an attack and she was in her hero persona.”

Drake was silent for a moment before he asked, a bit hesitant. “Why didn’t you open the file?”

“I just didn’t!” he snapped.

The oldest of the two raised both his hands as if surrendering. “Fine, fine! Is the situation there as bad as it’s shown in the French media?”

Damian nodded. “The city was completely destroyed when I was there. The Akumas are very violent and it’s only to Ladybug’s cure that it doesn’t stay like it or that they’re all still alive.”

“Nothing we can do, though,” said Tim, “the guy took control of a fucking baby more than once. Just a little bit of negative emotion is enough to be at his mercy. Better not get there.”

Damian had to agree with his statement.

It was supposed to be a good day, Marinette thought with a frown. She had woke up on time and got in class with five minutes to spare. Ms. Bustier wasn’t even here yet! She had told Damian everything about her situation two weeks ago already, and she was relieved that such a big secret was revealed already. That meant that she could be a little bit more open with him.

And she had been, in the last two weeks, they had seen a little bit more of each other. He opened up a little, but he really didn’t trust her enough to give her more than a little bit of information about what he liked or didn’t like here and there.

It was okay, she didn’t trust him 100% yet either. They would get there when they would.

Damian was cold and rude but she could tell that he was a good person. He was brutally honest, but she kinda liked that.

Getting to know her soulmate helped her move on from Adrien. She didn’t blush anymore around him, and her heart didn’t miss a beat or sped up anymore when he was around.

That was such a relief, to her, and to her friends, who were happy to see her moving on.

It didn’t mean that she was falling in love with Damian, though. She couldn’t even call him a friend yet.

But even if things were looking good and that it was supposed to be a good day, the sight in front of her told her that it would be anything but a good day.

Marinette frowned as she looked around. Everyone had changed their seats, the only one open was next to Adrien. She frowned even more at that. She was moving on from the model, she hoped that it wasn’t Alya deciding all of the sudden to pair them or something.

Speaking of, Alya waved at her in an attempt to get her attention.

“Hey, girl! Sorry, we moved the seats! Lila is coming back today, you see, and with her ear problem we thought she should get a seat in the front row, so we all moved to accommodate her,” she smiled at Marinette before pointing to the desk on the last row. “You’re over there by the way.”

Marinette looked at the back of the classroom to see the empty desk. They had put her alone in the back without even asking her.

“Alya,” she started, her hesitation obvious in her voice. “It’s not that I mind accommodating for Lila,” she did, because Lila was a liar, she probably didn’t have a hearing problem, but she was willing to give the girl a chance. “But why did we have to move everyone? Only one person needed to move,” she said in a small voice.

She noticed that Damian has appeared beside her, scowling at her friend.

“Well, Adrien volunteered to help Lila so Nino had to move but I didn’t want him to be alone. And then, Mylène wanted to sit with Ivan, and you know how it is, when more than two persons move seats, everyone wants to move too.”

Marinette bit at her lips. “But…”

But what about me? She wanted to ask, but wasn’t it selfish, to ask that? They all moved seats for selfless reasons, to accommodate a disabled classmate and they didn’t know that Lila was probably lying about that.

She didn’t have the time to say anything else as Ms. Bustier entered the room with Lila.

“Everyone, please, give Lila a warm welcome!”

Everyone talked at the same time, making it hard to understand anything, but Lila beamed at her classmates, clasping her hands together. Her voice alone made everyone shut theirs to listen to her.

“Thank you, everyone! I’m so happy to be back! My trip to Achu was amazing but so tiring! Helping Prince Ali to come up with ideas to fight world pollution was exhausting!”

Rose squealed somewhere in the class but she could only focus on Damian who scoffed. “The guy only works with children.”

“Tell me about it,” she whispered to him. Thankfully, no one heard her. Everyone knew about her soulmate and wouldn’t question her when she talked to herself, but she didn’t want Lila to know about this particular information.

“Oh!” Lila’s cheerful voice caught their attention again. “Did you leave the front seat open for me?” Everyone nodded and Lila smiled again, delighted. “Oh, guys! I’m so glad you remembered that I got tinnitus from saving Jagged’s cat from getting run over by a plane! Thank you so much!” She exclaimed as she took her seat next to Adrien and got closer to him until only a few inches separated them.

Damian let out a humorless laugh next to her, “As if. If that happened, she wouldn’t get tinnitus from it, she would be deaf. Engineers wear ear protection for a reason, imbecile.”

Marinette almost smiled at Damian’s comment but she was feeling a bit too bitter to let herself smile.

“Marinette,” Ms. Bustier’s voice resonated in the room. “Get in your seat so I can start the lesson!”

Reluctantly, Marinette did as she was told, and Damian followed, not wanting to just stand in the middle of the classroom, even though no one could see him.

“What, are you just going to let them order you around like that?”

Marinette just shrugged. She didn’t want to make a fuss about it. She would talk to Alya later about them forcing her to the back without asking her first. She knew that Alya only had the best intentions when she did it, so she wasn’t really mad about it, but she was a bit bitter with how easily she’s been disregarded, and she didn’t want to leave that unsaid. Alya would understand where she’s coming from.

Damian raised an eyebrow at her, watching her as she took her things out of her bad. Bustier was still getting ready to start the class and her classmates were whispering to each other waiting for the teacher to begin the lesson.

“So, what, you’ll let that slide?” he taunted. In the last few weeks, he had learned to know that she hated liars — he had laughed at the irony, what with her being Ladybug — and injustice.

The blue-eyed girl looked at him. “I’ll talk to Alya later. It’s not like I can just yell that she’s a liar.”

Damian’s eyes narrowed at her and suddenly it felt like she was forced out of her body. She was where Damian was supposed to be and Damian was in her place.

“Did you-” she sputtered indignantly, “did you just take over my body?!”

Damian looked at his hand — her hand — in wonder. “Huh. So I can do that on purpose,” he whispered. “Good to know.”

He then looked at the front of the class, where Lila was discussing happily with Alya, Nino, and Adrien — and why was Bustier taking so long to begin teaching, damn it?! — and he smirked.

Marinette shuddered at the sight.

He was going to get her in so much trouble, wasn’t he?

His voice — her voice — resonated in the class, getting everyone’s attention.

“You know that if you really were that close to a moving plane, you would have gone deaf, right?” he said in perfect French, his gaze locked with Lila’s.

Marinette gripped his arm — her arm, damn it, even if he was in her body, she saw him and not herself, and how weird was that? — and shook it a little, panicking.

“Stop. Please, stop!” She begged him.

She could see some of her friends scowling faces and, Gods, she hated that it was meant for her.

“What- What are you talking about, Marinette? I mean, I get where you’re coming from. I was lucky that I only got tinnitus from that incident.”

Damian scoffed in her body. Some of her classmates were confused, and she couldn’t blame them, it was so out of character of her.

“Bullshit,” he said and some gasps could be heard.

“Marinette!” the teacher exclaimed as Lila’s eyes were gathering tears. Clearly fake, Marinette and Damian could tell. “Apologize to Lila immediately.”

Damian was about to say something else, Marinette didn’t know what, but it wouldn’t be good for her, so she tried to control the bond, however it could be done, she just wanted her body back.

And she got it back, she realized.

Thanks, God.

“I’m sorry,” she said as soon as she got her body back, averting her eyes from the rest of her classmates.

She glanced at Damian, who was pursing his lips and frowning and he looked back at her, ready to say something.

But then he was gone.

She didn’t want to be mean or anything, but she was relieved that he was gone for the moment. He got her in enough trouble as it is.

Lila made a big scene of forgiving her and Ms. Bustier finally began her lesson.

She saw Alya giving her a look that told her they would talk later.

Marinette sighed. It was going to be a long day.

Next

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[rednriddn]

Mer Au Idea.

(I don't know much about what I'm saying when things are supposed to be reflections of real life)

The humans know about mers and they are treated like animals (but nicely (usually))

There are places where different groups can watch over, protect, study, heal, ect the mers.

The League of Assassins (and Maybe also Amanda Waller) have their own center (Waller's is probably for feral and dangerous mer with a taste for blood and chaos).

Their Center focus mainly mer that had to be taken out of the ocean for their safety.

Bruce and Alfred because Bruce's parents died and while Alfred protects him he is old. Dick belonged to a group of fish but when the group got attacked and scattered his parents died. Jason's parents died and he was alone for awhile. Tim's parents get taken and shown all around the world(because it doesn't bother them like most mer) and Tim needed a pack sence his parents didn't claim him. Cassandra's old "owner" mistreated her. I'm not sure about Damian. I think Talia found him when he was first hatched and got really attached but knew he needed mers more than her. He'd never be able to swim in the ocean if not exposed to mers. (Stephanie was taken in and they thought she would be a good mate for Tim. It didn't work out that way but she mainly lives with Bruce's pack)

Bruce's pack was just him and Alfred for a long time. The Loa tried to find him mates and friends but Harvey became farel and the other groups he met with didn't work out long term. But when Dick needed an emergency placement they tried Bruce and it worked out (probably a bit too well and Bruce didn't let them have him back). So the next time they needed an emergency placement for a young mer they tried Bruce (Dick was currently with his Titans pack sence him and Bruce began fighting (it's not unusual for a mer to challenge the pack head when they get older (hormones and instincts) But Bruce had never been challenged by pack before nor seen it. He'd only seen mer outside of a pack challenge that pack so he took it offensively and Dick had to be taken out of their den(unsure of the word) but they still tried every now and then to see if the two mers had calmed down)

The Loa takes in young mers that can't quite defend themselves and takes care of them and usually train them a bit until they are safe to be in the ocean. They give them a chance to leave or just explore and then return to their den.(The training is to do things like save people if they are drowning or to find things bad for the ocean and return them to the center. Sometimes they'll get really strong mer because they don't discourage sparring and fights that don't lead to great harm. And if a mer is strong they might be allowed to help catch feral, otherwise dangerous or hurt mer and bring them in)

On one of the trips out Bruce and Jason got into a fight about a mer that died somehow (maybe a shark or something dangerous in the sea for Jay to fight) that they were trying to catch. Jason swam off (not to the center)emotionally hurt and ran into either his mom he thought was dead or Joker. Either way he was thought dead when Bruce arrived but he was still taken to the center. Talia watched over him but he wasn't allowed near Bruce till he was healed. Bruce and Dick mourned as there wasn't a way to tell the mer that Jay was still alive without them meeting and that could be bad for Jay. Jason was traumatized and wouldn't go near Bruce even after he healed for a while (he was afraid Bruce was still mad at him and would be disappointed in how weak he was). So he went through a lot of physical therapy and once he was heal he wanted to try going into the ocean again (he felt he would be too weak if he couldn't go into the ocean or fight for himself. Talia was worried but there wasn't much they could do except keep him trapped in the center.)

Once Jason was healed and going into the ocean more he saw Bruce and his pack. He was a bit upset that Bruce moved on and Dick was a regular member of the pack again (since before it was really only him, Bruce, and Alfred). He got into a (onesided) fight/challenge with Tim and Bruce was upset at that (he didn't like challenges in his pack) and so he and Jason got into a fight. Anytime they saw each other they got into a fight Jason's instincts and what he saw in the ocean vs the way Bruce grew up and saw in the ocean (they saw the same thing but Jason was raised that challenges just happened and Bruce only saw them as pack hurting pack). They tried but had a hard time getting along.

Tim's entree to the pack. Tim saw the bat pack when he was little and wandered places he shouldn't by himself at that age. He also belonged to the same center as them so he saw them sometimes. After Jason died Tim followed them around more worried about them and wouldn't leave. Eventually he was allowed in their den and Dick rejoined (he still went with his Titans)

Cass was already part of the pack at this time and Damian soon joined.

Other mer in the center are other Justice Leaguers and certain villains Like Ivy&Harley after they were cleared by Amanda to be good outside of her center but not into the ocean yet. And Slade and his kids(though they may be trainers or caretakers in the center)

[unmaskedagain]

Daddy’s Little Villain

So this prompt I think I got months ago. I meant to work on it for quite some time but I never got around to it. I got inspired yesterday so I decided to take a shot. I went completely off memory for this. Its been a while since I watched Young Justice or any of the DC animated shows; apart from the new Harley Quinn one. So sorry about what I got wrong.

A clown with a killer punchline.

A lantern of terror.

The king of Metropolis.

The master of shadows.

A destroyer of worlds.

Different faces, powers, histories but all categorized under one name.

Supervillain.

           Ruthless, intelligent, powerful, charismatic, tempting; villains reflect just how easily and quickly this planet, if not the universe could fall under their might. However, none of them started out evil. None of them were born evil. No one is born to be evil.

           Marinette, however, came very, very close.

           Her biological father was one of the first that came to mind when anyone thought of a Supervillian. He personally had killed thousands, and arranged the deaths of tens of thousands more. He conquered kingdoms, destroyed dynasties, annihilated empires, controlled governments, and used presidents, kings, any old politician as puppets on strings.

           And he was a good dad.

           He made sure Marinette had the best of everything. The best tutors, the best trainers, the best bodyguards (though Marinette had only ever seen them out of the corner of her eye; hiding in the shadows).

He was even okay with Tom Dupain being a father figure to his daughter. Tom had married Sabine when Marinette was four. However, the acceptance of this came after several failed assassination attempts after the first time Marinette called Tom Papa. Sabine hadn’t been happy that to have protect her new husband from assassins sent by her jealous baby daddy.

Marinette spend most of her days pretending to be a normal girl. The rest of the time she was being trained by near unstoppable assassins in every manner of fighting style her body could handle, learning how to speak various different languages ranging from Spanish to whatever the hell Atlantians’ spoke, hacking and computer skills from former spies, and being taught strategy from some of the greatest military minds that could be bought. (And this was one top of her duties as Ladybug because her dad was still a bit of an asshole.)

He just wanted what was best for her. And he made sure Marinette knew she was loved. He sent her presents every week, letters every day, and she woke to fresh roses in her room every morning.

           The presents ranged from diamond tiaras to ancient samurai swords; anything she so much as mildly expressed an interest in was always found at the foot of her bed the next day. The letters were always thoughtful and kind; always wanting to know about her day, and how she was doing. They would appear in her desk sometime during the day. Marinette would leave a reply via email because she was a sane person of the year 2020. She’d wake to red roses every morning to remind her she was special to him. Sometimes she handed them out at school. Other times she gave them away to any pedestrian who looked like they needed a pick me up.

           He was a good dad, even if he was never actually around. They talked on the phone and over video chat as much as they could.

           He was busy. She understood that.

           Trying to take over the world wasn’t easy. It certainly wasn’t the average 9 to 5 job. The Light needed him.

           She forgave him for that; just like she forgave him for all the things he did to… ensure the future he envisioned became a reality. They were distasteful, immoral, and most of the time she didn’t have the stomach to listen to 1/12 of all the things he did or orchestrated.

           Marinette was always fine with staying out of it. Unlike most Supervillian kids, she never had any interest in taking her place in the family business. Or doing the opposite and doing everything she could to take their villainous family down. No, she had better things to do.

           And her father was just fine with that. He could forgive Marinette for wanting a normal life. He just wanted her happy, safe, and well cared for. He kept the Light and Cadmus out of Paris as best as he could.

           He could even forgive his little girl when she adorned a mask and became the Hero Ladybug. Though it did prevent him from recruiting Hawkmoth into the fold; he wouldn’t have been more than cannon fodder but still. As long as Ladybug kept out battle between good and evil that encased the rest of the world, the city of Paris, France could be hers. Hell, he would even give it to his baby girl as a birthday present should her desire for it arise. It would be good preparation should he need someone trustworthy and loyal to rule the rest of Europe.

           Still he was quick to stop any admiration for the heroes of Justice League. Or at least make sure his daughter didn’t put them on a pedestal like the rest of the world did.

“But they’re the good guys,” She remembered her seven-year-old self protesting. At the time Marinette hadn’t really understood that her father was considered one of the ‘Bad Guys.’ “The heroes.”

“I believe the Justice League’s actions leaves humanity weak,” He told her. “However, even if I didn’t find fault in them, they are only people. They make mistakes. There is good and evil in them; few realize just how easily one side could win over the other.”

           Marinette frowned, “You mean go bad. They won’t go bad. They fight for justice and what’s right.”

“What’s right is subjective,” He warned her. “And justice is in the eye of the beholder.”

“But-but they’re superheroes!”

“You know what’s more dangerous that a villain?” He asked her. “Someone who refuses to acknowledge that anyone can become one.”

           He would say more on the subject later until he was sure Marinette understood.

           He loved his daughter with all of his heart. And Marinette returned the favor.

           So when rumors spread, not long after Hawkmoth’s permanent defeat, that the Light’s founder had fallen; was dead, killed in action, murdered by superheroes, Marinette’s heart broke. She always knew the risks of her father’s job, the dangers this world had in it; it was survival of the fittest after all, that was what he taught her.

           Nevertheless, that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt; that it didn’t burn. And for the first time, the darkest part of her, the part of her that was all her father’s daughter, wanted to make the world feel her pain. However, Marinette was better than that. She wouldn’t blame the world for her sorrows.  She refuse to set fire to everyone and everything just because she wanted to vengeance.

           No, she was smarter than that. Her father, had he still lived, would expect better from her.

           Marinette blamed the Justice League; wonder woman, superman, the Green Lantern. She blamed. Artemis. She blamed Aqualad. She blamed Miss Martian. She blamed Superboy. She blamed Kid flash. She blamed all of Young Justice who set up the plan to bring down the light. (Apart from Batman and Robin who been in Gotham because Robin had all but on his death bed after a fight with DeathStroke.). And they would burn for taking her father from her.

           …The only problem was that Marinette wasn’t a killer. She didn’t want to be one unless she had no other choice. So she had to think of another way to get her revenge.

           The plan had started out very simple. Slowly the hero Ladybug would start being seen outside Paris; fighting random villains’ here and there; captain cold one day, the cheetah next. Never seen in the same place twice. Rumors spread that she was looking for someone; her partner, Chat Noir. It helped that Chat Noir had been seen in months.

           It was just a rumor, of course. Chat Noir had been officially retired. All kwami were taken back. Marinette wasn’t using Tikki to power herself up. No, she refused to use them like Hawkmoth had done. Instead, they were put away and were very well cared for; like well pampered, spoiled pets.

           Marinette used her money to buy a replica of her Ladybug suit; better armored though. She used her private plane to travel around wherever she needed to go. The more villains she fought, the more the rumor of the heartbroken Ladybug hunting down the Light to find her partner grew.

           The only downside was that Ladybug was rapidly gaining enemies left and right. It wasn’t long before The Light sent people after her. Ladybug was quick to send their minions back to them all but in a body bag.

           She had been approached multiple times be members of the Justice League; even teamed up with them multiple times to save the day. They never even feel the near microscopic camera she puts in them. It degrades three hours after but it’s plenty of time for Marinette to get the information she needs.

           It took two months for Marinette to learn the identities of nearly every member of the Justice League. She’s quick to destroy any secret identity evidence for anyone who didn’t wrong her. The batfamily was spared. The Green Arrow and his family was spared. (One day soon Oliver Queen would thank his lucky stars that Speedy went solo instead of joining Young Justice. And that Cheshire, who had a thing for the redhead, was an old friend of Marinette’s, whether the older girl remember the bluenette or not.)

           The family of Steal would burn though. As would fastest family alive. The king of ocean and his sidekicks. The “human” identities of the worlds’ favorite Martians. Woman Wonder and her sidekick. The Green Lanterns.

           The Justice League never saw her coming. All they saw was a pretty fourteen-year-old girl with tears in her big blue eyes as she swore it was her duty to right this wrong. She would fight the light on her own. A young hero, they thought, who did realize just how over her head she really was. Pity was always clear in their eyes. Every time Marinette refused their offer of help, said she could handle it herself.

           Marinette was just biding her time. She still needed the identities of Young Justice. When she got that, she would strike. Hard.

           It only took three months, and Cadmus capturing little Miss Martian.

           By the time, Young Justice arrived Ladybug had already been on the scene. Marinette had already freed an injured Miss Martian and they were trying to fight their way out. The bluenette was beaten, battered, and bleeding.  The two girls did their best to fight the bad guys that seemed to come in a never ending storm. It wasn’t long before they were surrounded.

“Go,” She whispered to the green girl. Marinette had always placed the cameras. She didn’t need to alien any longer. “You can fly. Go. I’ll hold them off, okay.”

“I won’t leave you,” Miss Martian shook her adamantly.

           Marinette frown, “You have to. You know what Cadmus. You know what these monster will do to you. You have go before it’s too late.”

“I will not!”

“Don’t be a hero!” Ladybug snapped.

“Why?!” A new voice called. Robin landed in front of them. The rest of the Young Justice was “It’s our job.”

           The fight was epic. And Marinette could admit that the members of Young Justice were skilled. But they had to be to take down her father, so it wasn’t surprising. Still, she managed to put a camera on each and every one of them.

           When it was over, and it was clear more of Cadmus’ henchman were arriving, Young Justice made moves to flee…

           Until they realized Ladybug had no intention of coming with them.

“He’s not in there,” Miss Martian told her gently.

“You don’t know that,” Ladybug murmured.

“I do,” Again the pity was clear in redhead’s eyes.

           Ladybug shook her head. “You don’t understand. I can’t give up. I won’t!”

           Robin put a hand on her shoulder, “Chat Noir isn’t in there.”

“Getting yourself killed will not help him,” Aqualad stated.

           Ladybug nodded, gave them a small smile, and then made a break for the Cadmus lab. Then Marinette felt a sharp pain in the back of her head, and everything went black.

           She woke up in the infirmary of what she guess was the Young Justice headquarters. With a huff, she got up and marched out of the room. It didn’t take her long to find the teen heroes lounging in their living room. “You guys are jerks!” She yelled at them.

           Kid Flash snorted, “We saved you from yourself.”

“Oh you self-righteous little-” Marinette groaned. “I can’t believe you! I can take care of myself” She crossed her arms and stomped her foot.

“Oh yeah because that proves it,” Artemis laughed.

“I’m a hero too, you know?”

           Robin nodded. “Everyone knows about Ladybug. But you’re like thirteen.”

“Fourteen! And a half!” Marinette corrected. “Which is basically fifteen.”

           The older heroes just looked at her, and then burst out laughing.

           Marinette forced herself to think of her most embarrassing memory so that her face would heat up and it would look like she turned red from embarrassment. As if she care what they thought.

           The bluenette grabbed a slice of pizza and asked politely for someone to send her back to Paris. She needed to regroup, she claimed.

           They tried to convince her to stay. Or let Young Justice or the Justice League help her but she refused. Marinette was back in Paris ten minutes later.

           She had the identities of every member of Young Justice an hour after that.

           It was time.

           Ladybug “tracking” down the Light had been an experience. Technically, she knew enough to figure out various locations they used. However, she also knew enough to know that Ladybug just showing up there would get her killed. It was a move of an amateur hero. And Marinette was done thinking like a hero.

           So she put down her mask, ditched her Ladybug gear, and got on a plane. Marinette arrived in Metropolis on a windy Tuesday morning.

           It took her until Friday to hack into Lex Luther’s secretary’s calendar to figure where the King of the Metropolis was scheduled to be and another week to decipher the Light’s next meeting. Hacking into pentagon was easier.

           Marinette waited watched from the shadows of the remote island she found herself on. She watched as villain after villain arrived. Until Lex Luther, surrounded by bodyguards and personal assistants, arrived in his private jet.

“Mr. Luther!” Marinette called as she stepped out of the shadows where she was hiding.

           Guns were immediately pulled on her. The secretary, Mercy, hand suddenly became weaponized. The surprise on their faces were clear. Particularly when they saw the small teen girl standing there.

           Marinette smiled.

“And you are?” Lex asked, only mildly intrigued. He wondered just who the child was that managed to be sneak up his men and possible the rest of the Light.

“My name is Marinette,” She answered. “But you and the Light know me as Ladybug. I mean you no harm.”

           Lex narrowed his eyes at her. He could see the resemblance. Ladybug and Marinette had the same stature, the same eye color, and looked to be the same age. Still, it could be a trick.

“Two months ago, I broke into one of your building.” Marinette said. “The break in was the news but LexCorp assured that nothing was taken. That wasn’t true. I took the Cuban cigars out of the safe behind the Rembrandt painting. Please. I merely wish to speak with the Light. Somewhere… not even gods among us can hear.”

           Well, that assured the villain that it wasn’t a trick.  However, for the first time in his life, Lex Luther found himself confused. On one day, Ladybug had been a slowly become a thorn in the Light’s side. On the other hand, the hero had just revealed her identity and now just wanted to talk. About what, Lex yearned to know.

           Lex nodded, “Mercy will check you for weapons. Then you will be escorted inside safely. Whether you leave alive will be up for debate.”

           Marinette sighed in relief and raised her hands. Mercy, who the bluenette tried to figure out whether she was a robot or a cyborg, was very thorough. She even scanned Marinette’s phone for any traces of explosives.

           When it was done Marinette found herself escorted inside, and then found herself a cliché Supervillian lair staring down the greatest supervillains in the world. Ra's al Ghul, Black Manta, Queen Bee, Klarion, Deathstroke, Ocean Master, and their operatives Hugo Strange, Bane, Sports Master, and Cheshire all sat at a large round table. There was four pieces of glass hanging from the ceiling in front of them; monitors, Marinette figured.

And it was clear from the anger on the faces that the bad guys had been informed of exactly who Marinette was.

           It was daunting, to say the least.

“You have our attention, Miss Marinette,” Lex said. “Do not waste it.”

           Marinette nodded, “I have information on the Justice League I thought the Light would be very interested in.”

“Why would a hero do such a thing?”  Ra's al Ghul asked. “Hoping to make a deal? Your information for the return of Chat Noir, perhaps?”

           The leader of the League of Shadows didn’t know why the rumor persevered that the Light kidnapped the Parisian hero. He had confirmed himself that it was highly inaccurate.  

           The bluenette giggled, “Chat Noir no longer exists. He was retired at the same time as Hawkmoth. The Light has never had him. Neither did Cadmus. It was just heavily implied.”

“Yet that didn’t stop you from destroying our labs,” Lex glared. “Ruining missions, capturing my associates. Months of research. Millions of dollars. Gone to hell.”

“You were a tool,” Marinette shrugged. “I used to you get to close to the Justice League. It was never personal.”

           Lex felt eye twitch. He should have Mercy shoot her on principle.

“You’re more annoying than Robin,” Deathstroke shook his head at the moxy of the girl.

“It was just business?” She offered. “I needed a way to make them pay.”

“Just… just business,” Lex pinched his nose. He was going to kill her. “What could you possible offer the Light that would stop us from destroying you and everyone you love?”

           Marinette smirked. She pulled out her phone and hacked into the monitors. Once she was done, and played a video. The villains watched on the screens with old mild interest on their faces. Slowly the interest faded as shock and astonished looks overtook it.

           Lex’s felt his entire body shake. The video had shown undeniable proof that Superman was secretly Clark Kent. It was what he dreams were made of. He could barely stop himself from snatching the phone out of Marinette’s hand and playing it the video over and over again.

           Lex forced himself to calm down. He looked at the bluenette hard. A part of him wanted offer to pay as much money as the girl could want for the video. Another part of him realized if Marinette had been a little older he would’ve proposed.

“Superman’s civilian name is Clark Kent.” Marinette smiled, “I have video proof of nearly every member of the Justice League’s secret identities; along with their sidekicks.”

           The statement was met with silence. Each villain contemplating the ramifications of what such information could mean; not just for them, but for the world.”

“I think that’s worth a little forgiveness,” Marinette slyly added. “What’s few million dollars in damages compared to bringing down the Justice League once and for all.”

           Klarion chuckled, “I suppose some things can be overlooked.”

“Why?” Black Manta asked. “That is what we should be asking. Why betray the heroes?”

“Justice,” Marinette shrugged. “Revenge. I blame them for the death of my father.”

“That’s a good a reason as any,” Cheshire said. Her mask still hid her face.

           Sportsmaster gave his daughter a side look, “You never tried to take down any heroes any of the times you thought I died,” He complained.

“Sorry,” Cheshire shrugged. “I was too busy eating ice cream and getting drunk off my ass; it’s how I usually celebrate.”

“Why come to us?” Ra's al Ghul asked still intrigued.

“Why wouldn’t she?” A new voice rang through the room. Marinette stumbled back in shock. She knew that voice. But that wasn’t possible. Right? “The Light is in her blood.”

           Door opened and in walked bane of nearly every hero in the world, the Founder of the light, Vandal Savage. “You’ve done well, daughter.”

           Her father looked exactly the same as she remember. He was tall, with broad shoulder and square jaw; three pale scars across his face. His hair was longer though, much longer, and was pulled back

           Marinette rushed over to him and threw herself into his arms. He hugged her tightly.

“I thought you were dead,” Marinette whispered. Tears stung her eyes. “Everyone said you were dead.”

           Vandal smiled gently at her, “And you decided to bring down the world’s heroes in my name. I’m truly touched,” He said. “I wasn’t dead but I was close. I got better.”

           The bluenette backed away from her father; realization slowly hit her.

“It’s been months,” Marinette ran a hand through her hair. “You have any idea what I’ve gone through, what I did! You suck! Ugh, I’m telling Mom!”

Sabine Cheng would show Vandal Savage a thing or two once she found out. She was the one who had to dry her daughter’s tears day after day once the news of Savage’s death broke. The Asian woman was possibly only one infamous Vandal Savage was afraid of.

           The others villains watched, entranced by the argument between father and daughter.

“You gallivanted around as hero,” Vandal reminded. “To get close the Justice League; leaving me to wonder if in my absence I had lost my daughter to the so-called forces of good. It turned out all my worrying was for naught.”

“You could’ve called!” Marinette complained. “Wrote. Something to tell me you were alive. Anything.”

“At the time it was best decision.”

           Marinette glared, “You seriously for even one second I’d team up with the Justice League? Really? Me?” She glared. “I’m NEVER talking to you again!”

“I’ll make it up to you, sweetheart,” Vandal assured the bluenette. “We can kill Superman together.”

“Actually,” Lex interrupted. “I have dips.”

           Vandal shot him a quick glare.

The teen girl crossed her arms, “Give me one reason I shouldn’t destroy everything I have on the Justice League?” She asked. “And before any of you threatened to kill me. I only brought the Superman video as insurance. I die; you will never get your hands of the rest of them. So again,” She hissed at her father. “Give me one reason I should hand over my Intel to the Light?”

“…Father’s day’s coming up?” Vandal offered.

“Dammit!”

           Marinette stumped over to an empty seat, next to Cheshire, and glared petulantly at the inhabitants of the room. She didn’t care that it made her look like a little kid.

           An awkward silence filled the room.

           Luther took the opportunity to finally start the meeting as it was the reason they were all there. It was long. It dragged on. Even with Marinette’s intelligence on the Justice League. Everything felt like a stuffy board meeting. Nowhere near as exciting as Marinette once imagined it would be.

           The meeting took a short break. Food was brought out. A small buffet. Marinette made herself a plate; she grabbed a fancy steak sandwich, some fruit and chips, and a rather large chocolate cupcake because she freaking deserved it. She thought she was done until her plate was grabbed by her father. He didn’t hesitate to put baked Brussel sprouts provided on her plate.

“Oh come on! No one likes Brussel sprouts,” Marinette complained. “Not even you’re that evil.”

“They’re good for you,” Vandal told his daughter. “And you will eat them.”

“You’re seeing this too, right?” Deathstroke, otherwise known as Slade, asked Bane. “It’s not just me.”

As they ate, the villains shared stories about what they’d been up to. Most just complained about the problems they were having with the Justice League; who fought who, who should they consider for Light membership, and anyone getting on their nerves.

“Some assholes decided to send the wannabe Villain current status moron after me,” Marinette cast a dark look around the room; making it clear she knew they sent the assassin. She didn’t get as much as a single sheepish look. “He kept trying to light me of fire. And then he was accidently pushed off the top of a building, twice.”

Ra's al Ghul nodded at the young girl, “I would like to mention that I have an heir not much younger than you. You would get along quite well, I believe.”

           Marinette narrowed her eyes at Leader of the League of shadows, “Are you seriously trying to get me to date your grandson right now?”

           Al Ghul didn’t answer her.

Marinette took the opportunity to excuse herself from having to come back, “I’m going to explore the island.” And then see if she could escape before her dad caught her.

“I always blew up your boat,” Vandal raised an eyebrow. “I’ll be taking you home myself.”

“You suck!”

“Love you too, sweetpea.”

           Marinette marched out of the room. She’d swim if she had too.

           It turned out she didn’t have to swim. Just hotwire Deathstroke’s ride.

           She got a video call fifteen minutes after taking off.

“Go for Marinette?” She answered cheerfully.

           Vandal Savage’s face appear on the screen, “You stole Slade’s helicopter.”

“Juuussst like you taught me.” Marinette smirked.

[sohotthateveryonedied]

Slipping Through My Fingers

Read here on AO3!

When it comes to his children, Bruce has very few regrets. He loves them completely, scars and all. He wouldn’t want to change a single part of them.

But he can’t lie and say that he doesn’t regret the timing with which each of these beautiful souls entered his life. Bruce has six children, but he’s never had a baby, and isn’t that wrong? Isn’t that a pity? He missed so much of their lives—so many milestones that every parent wants to remember forever but that he’s not even had glimpses of. He wasn’t there for the first steps or the lost teeth or learning how to ride a bike. He missed all of his children learning to talk, missed watching Sesame Street with them in the morning and making soapy mohawks in the bathtub. Bruce missed everything. He missed moments that he can’t get back, no matter how hard he yearns for a rewind. Take him back. Return to him the moments he lost without even knowing it until they’d already slipped through his fingers. Bruce has a few mementos to get him by, but they only grant him glimpses of the years he missed. Dick has a bin of old tapes from the Flying Graysons’ best performances that he likes to watch on bad days. Occasionally he’ll let Bruce watch with him. There’s something magical about watching the young boy in the tapes swing on the trapeze and pull gravity-defying moves, all the while knowing what a strong man that boy will one day become. Jason came to the manor with very little, having to travel light while on the streets. There’s a shoebox under the bed in his old room salvaged from his mother’s things, containing a handful of photos from Jason’s toddler years, a stuffed animal or two, some loose possessions. Bruce used to go through them after Jason’s death, just to give himself something to hold on to. Tim had more than Dick and Jason combined: plenty of photos, report cards, baby teeth, and coloring books all saved in storage. But as much as there was, Bruce still only had glimpses of the real Tim. Every family photo was stiff, like an assortment of plastic dolls. The papers and drawings that have been collected are too crisp, like they were shoved into a childhood folder and forgotten about without a second glance, not even making it to the refrigerator. All Bruce has of Cass’ childhood are videotapes of training sessions. He refuses to watch them, for both her sake and his own. Duke has a photo album he keeps in his bedroom, compiling plenty of baby pictures and family vacations. He’s only shown it to Bruce once. Otherwise, he keeps it in his bookshelf, untouched but for the handful of times he’s visited his parents, showing them old memories in case it will miraculously jog something and put the shards of them back together. The longer it doesn’t work, the less he’s willing to tell. The League of Assassins has an entire storage room of files on Damian’s development. Bruce has seen it. It’s like every move the boy made was monitored and catalogued, detailed without so much as a lick of emotion to remind anyone that this was a child being discussed. There were no shiny milestones to celebrate, only completed stages. No one commemorated his first word or first time seeing a butterfly, but his first time using a wakizashi sword earned five entire pages. If Bruce could go back in time, he would snatch up every one of his children and give them the lives they deserve, right from the start. No pain. No dead parents. No neglect, no heartache, no scavenging on the streets just to survive the night. He would wipe their slates clean if it meant he could stave off their suffering, just for a little while longer. He would do anything to go back.

Back when Bruce was a child and tragedy hadn’t yet torn his family to bloody shreds, there was one Fourth of July on which his parents took him to the circus. Alfred had an open invitation to accompany them, but, being a Brit, he politely declined from the day’s festivities. “I’ll have you know, young sir, that I served as a spy for the British forces and mentored Alexander Hamilton during his teenage years.” Bruce was ninety-nine percent sure that Alfred wasn’t alive during the American Revolution. That day was the first time Bruce had been to the circus. It was a local one, small with very few extravagant spectacles, but his father bought him peanuts and afterward the three of them watched the fireworks in Gotham Park. It was a day that imprinted itself on Bruce’s memory, sticking with him long after they were gone. So when he sees a flyer announcing that Haly’s International Traveling Circus is visiting Metropolis on the same day Bruce has an interview with Lois Lane for some column on America’s wealthiest men, how can he turn the opportunity down? The air is warmed by summer rays, the entire field radiating Metropolis’ natural brightness. The scent of peanuts and popcorn wafts from all sides and the classic tinkling circus music fills his ears. The show doesn’t start for another half hour, so Bruce settles on walking around, unsure of what to do with himself. He should get some photos to bring home for Alfred. He’s always had a fascination with jugglers. After some perusing, Bruce pulls up under a tree, shaded against the thick trunk. He’s just pressed send on the pictures to Alfred when he hears a voice from above. “Hey, mister.” Bruce looks up to discover a boy perched on a tree branch two feet above his head. The kid looks around six years old with black hair that curls around his ears. He’s wearing a bright red and green costume—obviously one of the performers. How a child his age came to be part of the circus, Bruce can’t begin to guess. He’s missing his front teeth and his skin, tan with a honey glow, makes his nationality hard to place. Bruce blinks up at the boy. “Hello.” The kid drops down and catches on the branch with his hands, dangling with his bare feet kicking in the air. “Whatcha doing here?” Now that he’s paying attention, Bruce can detect the slightest accent. Romani, perhaps? “Why does anyone come to the circus?” The boy laughs. “You don’t look like the kind of person who goes to the circus.” “Then what kind of person do I look like?” The boy thinks, swinging back and forth like a cartoon monkey. How his hands aren’t scraped raw from gripping the rough bark, Bruce doesn’t know. “A lawyer, maybe. Or a president.” The corner of Bruce’s mouth lifts. “I’m neither of those things, unfortunately.” “Well, I’m an acrobat.” “I can see that.” “But I do other stuff too,” the kid tells him, “like I know how to juggle and how to walk on stilts and how to throw knives at targets. I’m getting real good at that.” “Are you sure a kid your age should be playing with knives?” The boy laughs. “You think knives are scary? You should see it when they let me play with the tigers.” Bruce arches an eyebrow. “You play with tigers?” That can’t be safe. Maybe he should have a talk with the ringmaster and make sure someone is ensuring that no little boy heads are getting bitten off by mighty jaws. “Oh yeah, the tigers are the best.” The kid swings his body upward, letting go of the branch and pulling a heart-stopping somersault midair as he falls. He lands on his feet without a wobble. “I know all of their names and they’re huge, like they’re this big”—he stretches out his arms as far as they will go, which makes the tigers a whopping two and a half feet tall—”and sometimes I’m even allowed to ride them!” Bruce leans back against the tree trunk, crossing his arms with a smile. “Is that right?” “Yeah!” The kid then launches into a string of chatter, so fast that it takes all of Bruce’s focus to keep up. He tells Bruce all about the circus’ tigers: what breed they are, how many they have, what they eat, what their names are (their actual names and the names the kid gave them; Marshmallow is his favorite), and how his dad once gave him permission to hold a hoop while a tiger leapt through it. The entire time, Bruce can’t help but wonder, is this what childhood is supposed to be like? Swinging on tree branches and giving oral reports about your favorite animals to complete strangers? Is this what growing up is like for normal children? Bruce doesn’t know whether to be envious of this little boy or concerned. He’s so innocent; it bleeds from every grin. There’s nothing weighing this kid down—literally and figuratively—and Bruce finds himself silently praying to a being he doesn’t believe in that it never changes. Let this kid stay pure, untouched by the evils of the world. Let him go his whole life swinging on branches and talking about tigers without a single setback. After a good ten minutes when the boy’s tumbled into a handstand and has moved on to tell Bruce about his favorite elephant Zitka, a feminine voice rings, “There you are, Dick. I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” A beautiful woman approaches the pair, wearing an identical red and green leotard. She’s got matching black hair and blue eyes—too spitting of an image to be anyone but his mother. “Come on, sweetheart, we’re supposed to be backstage.” “Sorry, Mom,” Dick says, turning right-side up, but he hasn’t lost his grin. Now that he thinks of it, Bruce doesn’t recall it waning once in the entire time they’ve been talking. She takes in Bruce, suit and all, and plasters on a stage smile, sticking out her hand. “Mary Grayson. You’ll have to forgive my son, he gets excited easily. He’ll talk your ear off for hours if you let him.” But the glimmer in her eye gives Bruce an inclination that she has no problem being an audience for her son’s happy rants. Bruce shakes her hand. “Bruce. I take it you’re the Flying Graysons I’ve been hearing so much about?” “The very same. I hope you’ll be seeing our show tonight.” “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He winks at the littlest Grayson, who beams. Mary ruffles Dick’s hair. “Well, this little robin and I should be getting ready now. It was a pleasure meeting you, Bruce.” “Likewise.” He leans down and shakes Dick’s small hand. “And if you ever come to Gotham, maybe you can tell me more about those tigers, eh?” Dick looks like he contains the sun itself. He’s sunshine incarnate. “Definitely!” He drags his feet when his mom starts leading him away, rolling her eyes good-naturedly. “Bye, Mr. Bruce!” He waves his hand like a windmill of its hinges, and Bruce can’t help but return it. Bruce hasn’t felt this content in a long time to the point where he has to stop in wonderment of it. It’s unlikely that Haly’s will end up coming to a place like Gotham anytime soon, but Bruce hopes for it anyway. After all, Gotham could use some sunshine.

Here’s the rest of it on AO3 because I don’t feel like formatting all 7,000 words on here lmao.

[watchtower-feed]

Shoulds and Coulds

SSA AU ✧ Damian Wayne ✧ Timer

Notes: This is my favorite trope hybrid. Does a lot of emotional damage. I also wanted to move away from Y/N-centric narrative and try the soulmate’s POV.

Words: 3,615

          When you live in a world full of superheroes, there are worst things than meta human villains, invading aliens, and psychotic clowns. One of them is having a soulmate.

          Some say it’s better because your other half is easier to find, but they’re not the one who has a hero or a villain for a soulmate. You do

     Damian Wayne was raised to believe in destiny. That it’s his fate to one day lead the League of Assassins and continue to change the world for the better. Talia would talk of his future feats while massaging the glowing numbers on his arm. As a young boy, he’s noticed how his mother would always avoid looking at his timer.

     But destiny proved to have its own plans when Slade attacked the League and murdered his grandfather in front of him. His mother safely stole him away and brought him to his father. When she whispered her bittersweet goodbye, she kissed his timer for a long time. And it was the last time he ever saw her.

     His father and Alfred dedicated a grave to Talia in the family cemetery, a few meters away from Bruce’s own parents. There was no body beneath the ground but Damian had no trouble shedding tears on the gravestone etched with her name.

     Damian Wayne was then raised in a family where his choices decided his fate and those around him. Every split decision in a fight could lead to injury or death. Every word uttered turned arguments into thirst for blood. There's no way of knowing what will happen until it does.

     Every action he makes, consequences follow. Nothing is given freely and nothing is asked of him. Suddenly, he no longer has a clear destiny.

     But when he looks at the changing numbers on his arm, the inevitable countdown that comforts his loneliness, he’s still sure of one thing. No matter what happens, what turns he takes, or mistakes he makes, he has you.

     It’s the last day of summer before Damian goes back to high school for his senior year. He’s spending it much like every other night with his brothers: in costume.

     “Just a few more minutes,” Dick grins at him while he peers at Damian’s covered arm, making his youngest brother rub it under his sleeve and hide it from Dick with a scowl.

     Jason snorts through the comms and Damian can hear him breathing loud and the wind trailing behind him, “Do you think-- it’s going to be-- a damsel-- in distress?”

     “We’re out and about and Ivy is busy turning the Narrows into her new garden. Of course, she’s going to be a damsel. She’ll probably be trapped in Ivy’s vines and Damian’s going to be the one who’ll cut her down and save her.” Dick swoons towards Damian who harshly shoves him away and jumps off the rooftop to leave his eldest brother behind.

     Tim’s voice filters in his ear as he glides over rooftops, “Or it could be a bad guy. Probably out looting and taking advantage of the chaos just like these guys.” They all hear Tim grunt as he kicks and punches.

     Damian groans and glares at the night sky. They’re damage control while Batman handles Ivy by himself. From what they’ve been hearing through his comm, Ivy’s trying to find new territory after the mayor sold her greenhouse to an out-of-town developer.

     “You’re always such a party pooper, Tim.”

     “At least I’m not narrating R-rated romance novels.”

     “Hey! Those are quality gol--”

     Damian stops in an alley and turns off his comms. He hides in the shadows. Stands still in the darkness, holding his breath before releasing it through his shaky lips. He loosens the collar of his tunic and breathes out of his mouth slowly.

     Finally, he rolls up his sleeve and the glowing red numbers light up his face.

     9 minutes.

     He remembers his mother kissing the last digit after she said goodbye. After expressing her distaste for his link all his life, why did she kiss it so gently? What did it mean? Why did she look so sad? Was she worried? Scared?

     Damian Wayne has grown up waiting for the day when his timer would stop, when all the waiting would stop, when all the uncertainty and guesswork would finally come to an end.

     “Robin!”

     His comms are overridden and Batman’s voice blares through. “There’s another stray headed to your location.”

     “On it.”

     Damian’s running. Heading toward the screaming.

     “Damian, how many more minutes?”

     “Dick, focus!”

     It’s too late. Damian’s already staring at his still exposed wrist.

      7 minutes. 

     When he reaches the chaos, he sees a monster shaped like a bulb with its vines swinging wildly around, smashing into buildings and wrapped tightly around civilians.

     Dick’s words suddenly haunt him and he wonders if his soulmate is one of them. His eyes roam each victim. Damian wills himself to focus. There’s still a lot of time.

     He unsheathes his katana and cuts away at the animated vines. He catches each civilian as they fall and takes extra care when he lets them down onto the ground. An ambulance arrives when he lays down the last victim. The medics pour out and attend to them. He steals one last look at his wrist.

     2 mins.

     Damian turns his full attention to the monster. He cleans his katana on his sleeve and charges forward. He hacks and slashes at each vine it sends his way. But one vine hits him and sends him flying back. He braces himself for the impact and hits the windshield of a car.

     He groans, back aching, and notices the moving numbers on his arm.

    36 seconds.

     The monster is advancing. Damian grits his teeth. His lips are quivering. He grips the hilt of his weapon and waits. With the monster just a few feet away, Damian yells in frustration and leaps. He comes down to its side and slashes the monster’s head off.

     Its limbs flail in the air without an entity controlling it and one of the larger vines whips around and slams Damian against a building.

     His head smashes against the brick wall and his body slides down to the ground. He feels warm blood drip down his face. It slowly covers his eyes and he sneaks one last look at his wrist.

     3 seconds.

     He feels a gloved hand wipe off the blood on his face and pull on his eyelids. When his eye opens, he hears the three continuous beeps while locking eyes with you.

     “Are you okay? Do you know where you are?” Robin is staring at you through his mask while you flash light into his eye. His pupil constricts and then dilates when you move away the flashlight. “Talk to me, Robin. I need to know if you’ve got a concussion. Do you remember where you are?”

     You watch him blink both eyes and slowly his mouth moves, “Gotham.” You give him a long look before you finally release the breath you’ve been holding.

     Robin is your soulmate. After 27 years of waiting, you finally meet him. But work comes first.

     Your hands move and part his hair to look at the wound. It’s a small gash but it’s going to need stitches. For now, you need to stop the bleeding.

     Damian’s hand covers yours and he brings it down to his face. You watch him stare at the now faded mark on your wrist and slowly he brings it closer to his lips before pressing a kiss against the faded string of numbers.

✧ ✧ ✧

     “Y/N, how many casualties?”

     You’re still not used to having Batman addressing you by name. You clear your throat and stare at thepiece of paper you brought with you to avoid looking at any of them. “7 DOAs and 12 in critical condition but quarantined. Hospital records show that 42 are already in recovery.”

     “Red Robin, how many missing persons reports?”

     “23 but there’s no more ground to cover.”

     “Where else can we look? The rest of the area is still ground zero, Bruce.”

     Batman glares at Jason. He’s still not used to having his name mentioned in front of you. But it’s not like you want to be here. You want to help but you’d rather be out there in an ambulance, reporting to doctors. You’re only here because of Damian.

     He nudges your shoulder with his and waits for you to turn to him. You hide half of your face behind your paper and give your soulmate a deep frown. Damian replies with a quick smile before turning his full attention back to Batman.

     “--still some debris here. Red Robin, Batgirl, and I will look into it. The rest of you take the rest of the night off.”

     Dick and Jason are already getting ready to argue with Bruce when Damian tugs on your hand and leads you to the elevator shaft. When he closes the door, you slump against the scaffolding and sigh. You’re exhausted. It’s another long night in Gotham as usual.

     Damian’s tall form stands next to you, leaning against your shoulder, sending electricity up and down your spine. He’s bowing his head in thought. You eye him curiously and watch his brows meet at the center.

     “You’re sneaking out, aren’t you?”

     Only his eyes turn to you and he smirks. It doesn’t take much for you to decipher what he’s thinking. All you have to do is look and everything is written plainly on his face. Even when his family is around, the stoic demeanor he wears with them is very telling of what calculations he’s making and what he plans to do next.

     You smirk back. “Where to?”

     The shaft doors open automatically when it reaches the top. Damian places his wide palm on the small of your back and guides you out of the secret door. He stops by the wall and leans on it to cage you in with his arms. “If you’re tired, beloved, we’ll stay in.”

     He leans down and kisses you. His lips are chapped from the cold night but his breath is warm like the sun. You find yourself inhaling and tasting all of him without another thought. He pushes you back against the wall with his body molding into your curves. Your breath hitches when his leg presses against your crotch. You push him back gently.

     “Let’s… Let’s sneak out…”

     Damian hasn’t turned 18 yet and you’re ten years older than him. You’ve found it so easy to just lose yourself in his touch, his warmth, his taste. But you have principles. Your rules. Boundaries you’re not willing to cross. He clenches his teeth like an animal baring his fangs.

     Damian doesn’t understand these rules. You’re soulmates. You shouldn’t be bound by such trivial legal matters.

     You slink away but hold his hand. You pull him away from the wall and toward the garage. “Come on. Lives to be saved, my boy wonder.”

     But he tries to be good. Tries to be as good as you. Good enough for you. So he respects your rules, the high standards you’ve set for yourself. Just like how you never try to talk him into a more honest life, knowing that being Robin is what makes him him.

     But destiny is nothing like karma. It plays by its own rules.

     It’s the early morning of Damian’s birthday when Alfred hears the house phone ringing. Damian and his siblings walk in from the cave while Alfred answers it. The boys are loud but exhausted, stretching their limbs and rolling their shoulders to shake away the fight from the night.

     “You excited for the big day, buddy?”

     “Kids finally gonna lose his V card. What do you think?”

     “Takes a special kind of stupid to lose it in an alley, Todd.”

     Tim’s the only one who notices Alfred’s stiff posture and desperate grip on the phone’s receiver. “Alfred?” The others stop and watch Alfred slowly turn to them, gaping, the receiver slowly slips from his grip. “What’s wrong?”

     He’s staring at Damian. His voice breaks when he utters your name.

     They break every speed limit and run every red light on the way to Gotham General Hospital. The emergency room is in chaos and the lobby is filled with people all waiting to see the victims of the accident. The wailing and the sobbing is forcing Damian to hide his head between his knees so he can think.

     The hospital didn’t call Wayne manor. One of your colleagues did. He was about to clock out but as soon as he saw you on the gurney, head bashed in with blood all over your face and in your hair, his knees went weak. He and a few of the other nurses knew you were involved with Damian Wayne and someone had to tell him.

     Four hours ago, a building collapsed near the hospital parking lot where the ambulances are parked. You and your colleagues were headed home when it happened. They’re only letting immediate family members in and no one in Damian’s family is listed as your emergency contact.

     “Is anybody in there with her?”

     “We can’t divulge that kind of information, sir.”

     “We’re her only family in Gotham!”

     “Unless you’re listed in her contacts, we can’t let you in.”

     “Check again! We should be in there--”

     “Stop!”

     Damian shouts in the waiting room, making all the chatter and buzzing cease. He stares at Bruce, Dick, and Jason before marching toward them and grabbing his brothers by the collar. “Just stop. Let them do their job.”

     You’ve told Damian enough stories about the hospital and the different types of behavior the nurses had to deal with. You don’t blame them because it’s their loved ones in question but you just wish they’d understand that wasting the nurses’ time helps no one.

     Damian lets go of his brothers and waits for them to take a seat. Bruce looks at his son. “I thought she would put one of us as her contact.”

      Damian’s mouth stretches into  a line, “I knew she didn’t. Y/N was sure I’d be the first to respond if something happens. She believed in me.”

     “Thank you,” the nurse says to him. “I’ll call you as soon as Y/N’s ready for visitors.”

     Damian nods at her and sits down with his brothers. He did the right thing but he feels sick to his stomach. He suddenly gags and Cass is quick enough to shove a trash can under his head. His retching echoes in the still quiet room.

     By the time they’re called them in, the waiting room is half empty and Damian’s birthday is almost over. They stand in front of your hospital room door with Damian’s hand on the handle. He’s staring at the timer’s faded mark on his wrist.

     His siblings turn to each other but neither rushes him in. Bruce gently places his hand on his son’s shoulder. After a sharp intake of breath, Damian finally turns the handle.

     The artificial light is glaring hard at your heavily bandaged head. Your open mouth is covered by a nebulizer and IV packs hung beside your bed.

     “Why…” Dick’s voice is breaking and almost a whisper. “Why does she need so many?”

     Bruce purses his lips when he answers, “The building collapsed from neglect over the years but the Joker was using one of the empty apartments for storage.”

     “What was in it?” Tim asks, making Jason elbow him and shush the rest of them.

     “Do you really think this is the time?” he nudges his head toward Damian who’s standing right next to your bed and holding your free hand.

     Damian has tuned them out the moment he saw you. He lowers himself and lays his chin near your shoulder. He watches your chest rise and fall and hopes your eyelids would open.

     “Y/N. Please.”

     It’s almost sunrise when you finally wake up. The room is quiet but the repeated beeping of machines helps stir you into consciousness. You blink and wait for your eyes to adjust to the darkness. You’re in a hospital room crowded with hunched sleeping forms littered about.

     You feel someone’s fingers intertwined with yours and your eyes land on a small mop of black hair lying on your bed. Instinctively, you reach out and ruffle it out, the tips of his hair feel familiar on your fingers. The boy wakes slowly and then his eyes widen as he stares at you.

     “Y/N.”

     He stands up quickly and hovers over you, unsure of how close he could get but you can see that he wants to embrace you. Slowly, the others start waking. The two eldest men quickly run out and you can hear them calling for a doctor.

     You unclasp the tube from your mouth with one hand and release it from your mouth with a pop. You cough a few times and the boy gently helps you sit up and rubs your back until your breathing eases. You turn to him, curious.

     “I feel like… I should know you.”

     The others are halfway up at this point. Your words made them stop. They all watch Damian’s eyes stare deeply into yours with his eyebrows almost meeting in the middle.

     “What do you mean?”

     You stare at him, studying his face and trying to place where you’ve seen him. “You’re… Damian Wayne, aren’t you?”

     You feel Damian’s fingers let go of your hand and his body takes an involuntary step back.

     The doctor comes in and realizes what he’s walked into.  He asks to speak to you alone. Everyone slowly filters out and crowds the hallway in front of your room.

     Tim’s the first one who approaches Damian, reaching up to place a hand on his shoulder. “It’s just retrograde amnesia. There’s a good chance Y/N will get her memories back.”

     Damian looks at his brother before he nods to him.

     “What if she doesn’t?”

     “Jason.”

     “No, seriously. What if.”

     Damian glares at Jason who’s not letting up. The others aren’t intervening because it’s one of those rare moments where Jason could be right. “You gotta be ready for the worst here, kid. What are you going to do?”

     Damian turns away from him and peers into your room. Even in your condition, you look as bright as you always have to him. Suddenly, you catch Damian looking at you. He quickly tenses and stands up.

     “Are you running away?” Jason blocks his path, acting like a real brother even though he isn’t. “Aren’t you her soulmate, huh, Damian Wayne?”

     “That name doesn’t mean anything to her right now!”

     The doctor steps out into the hallway, forcing the boys to shut their mouths and glare at each other. He coughs and turns to Damian. “Excuse me. Y/N’s asking for you.”

     Damian stares at him but doesn’t move. Jason slowly pushes both of his shoulders toward the door. You see him and make a small wave.

      “We’ll wait out here,” Jason whispers to him before gently pushing him into the room and closing the door behind Damian.

     You wait as he slowly walks up to you. “So, Fred tells me you’re my soulmate.”

     Damian stops just a foot away from your bed. It takes a moment but his demeanor changes. He presses the soles of his feet firmly on the ground and it lets him look you in the eyes with more ease. “I am.”

     He says it with such intensity that makes you turn away when you feel a warm blush coating your cheeks. You try to cover them with your hands and breathe out a shaky laugh. “Wow. I mean-- just wow. How long have we been…”

     “9 months.”

     You feel your cheeks heat up even more. You press your palms on your face, trying to hide yourself. “Phew… 9 months. And I actually-- But you’re not even 18 yet. Gosh.”

     Damian’s hands touch yours, making you flinch. He slowly pulls your hands away. You open your eyes and find his face so close to you. “I’m 18 now. It was my birthday yesterday,” he whispers, his warm breath blowing on your face, a familiar feeling that makes your fingers itch to reach out and touch the back of his neck.

     “Oh… Happy birthday, Damian.”

     Damian’s gaze drops to your lips but they look back up just as quickly. When he looks into your eyes, dilated and roaming his face, he remembers the first time you met. He can almost hear those three beeps.

     “Hey…” You watch big tears drop from his eyes. When you wipe them he seems shocked they’re there. “Come here.” You pull him close, making him climb onto your bed and curl up beside you. He rests his head on your shoulder and you hold him tighter when he shakes. “It’s okay,” you rub his head and your fingers untangle his unkept hair. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

     “Why…” he chokes out. “Why aren’t you questioning any of this? Why do you believe it so easily? Your timer’s run out. There’s no way to know if I’m really your soulmate.”

     You sneak a look at his arm and touch his faded marks. “I think… my soulmate wouldn’t be the type of person who would take advantage of an amnesiac.”

     Damian lifts his head and looks at you. “You’re too…”

     “Gullible?” you laugh.

     “Good.”

     You go still. “Does that mean I changed?”

     He looks at you. Your head is completely wrapped with bandages but your eyes still gleam when you watch him, pupils roaming to look for little tells hiding beneath his face. That small hidden smirk on your lips that slowly emerges when you finally piece something together, a mystery he didn’t know you were unravelling.

    Damian looks at you and all he sees is his beloved.

     “No,” he answers. “You’re still you.”

     You smile at him, “See? If I fell for you once then I’ll do it again. Especially now that you’re legal.”

     Damian snorts when he laughs. Unable to control it he hides his face on your shoulder, making you laugh along with him.

✧ Watchtower Masterlist ✧  

[grailfinders]

Fate and Phantasms #124: Hassan of the Serenity

Today on Fate and Phantasms, we’re making the most adorable of the Hassans, Hassan of the Serenity! Lookit her! I just wanna pinch her little cheeks!

But I won’t.

For this build we need poison skin, poison daggers, and the ability to shapeshift into other people which literally never gets brought up. Check out her build breakdown below the cut, or her character sheet over here!

Next up: Rice is nice, but twice the rice is thrice as nice.

Race and Background

Like a couple characters, you’re really a human, but those idiots don’t get poison skin. Fortunately, WotC came up with a solution! It skirts the edge of officialness, but the Grung do exist in a Wizards of the Coast rulebook, so you can play as them! (Just not in Adventurer’s League games.) Being a grung increases your Dexterity by 2 and Constitution by 1. You gain proficiency in Perception, get a walking and climbing speed of 25 feet, are Amphibious, and get Poisonous Skin. Any creature that directly touches you must make a DC 12 Constitution save or be poisoned for a minute, with additional saves each turn they aren’t touching you. You can also poison your piercing weapons as you attack, forcing another constitution save that deals poison damage on a failure. Finally, your Standing Leap lets you jump 25′ across and 15′ straight up, even without a running start, for those anime-style rooftop battles. All this does come with a drawback, though. Your Water Dependency means if you don’t submerge yourself in water for an hour each day, you suffer exhaustion that can’t be taken away without either magic or another long bath. Good luck dealing with that in the desert!

Like the other Hassans, you’re an Acolyte, giving you proficiency in Insight and Religion. Why rock the boat?

Ability Scores

Like many assassins, you’ll want to focus on Dexterity for this build. Your schtick is more about social manipulation, but being able to duck out when you need to is pretty important too. After that is Charisma, so you can sucker your mark into bed with you. After that is Wisdom- being able to charm a person is good, but you have to be perceptive enough to figure out how to do it in the first place. Your Constitution isn’t that great, but people should be giving you a wide berth anyway. We don’t need Intelligence, but you’re not dumb, so we’re dumping Strength. Straight-up brawls are not your thing.

Class Levels

1. Monk 1: We’ll get into your assassin skills in a bit, but I think your poison needs a bit of buffing first. That’ll take a while, but right now you get proficiency in Strength and Dexterity saves, as well as two monk skills- Stealth and Acrobatics will serve you well.

You also get Unarmored Defense, making your AC based on your dexterity and wisdom instead of just the former. That’s good, because you can’t use your Martial Arts in armor. This lets you use dexterity instead of strength for your monk attacks, and you do a minimum of 1d4 damage with unarmed attacks and monk weapons that’ll increase as you level. Finally, you can make an unarmed attack as a bonus action if you make the attack action with monk weapons.

2. Monk 2: Second level monks can use Ki Points to make two attacks, dodge, disengage, or dash as a bonus action. It should be mentioned that doing either of the latter two doubles your already considerable jump distance, in case your DM thinks a 50 foot chasm is enough to stop you. To help with that, your Unarmored Movement helps make up for your reduced speed, adding 10 to your movement speed.

3. Monk 3: As a Way of Mercy monk, your paws get just a bit more poisonous thanks to your Hands of Harm. You can spend a ki point once per turn when you hit a creature with an unarmed attack to deal extra necrotic damage to them. You also get some Hands of Healing that use ki once per turn to heal a creature, but that’s less in character. And also a really bad idea, what with that poisonous skin and all.

You can also deflect missiles, reducing damage from ranged weapons and possibly even spending ki to throw it back as part of the reaction.

4. Monk 4: Use your first Ability Score Improvement to grab some Squat Nimbleness. This feat increases your movement speed by 5′ to negate being small, gives you +1 Dexterity, proficiency in Athletics, and advantage on your checks to break free from grapples. I feel like that last bit probably won’t be much of an issue for you, but you never know.

You can also Slow Fall as a reaction, to help with the inevitable side effect of all that jumping you can do.

5. Monk 5: Fifth level monks get an Extra Attack, and can spend ki to make a Stunning Strike, forcing a constitution save (DC 8 plus your proficiency plus your wisdom modifier) or they become stunned for a round. You can also use Focused Aim to turn ki points into extra points on your attack roll, to avoid wasting all that poison.

6. Monk 6: Your Ki-Empowered Strikes make your unarmed attacks magical to overcome resistance, and your Physician’s Touch empowers your hands of healing and harming. The former can end one instance of blinding, deafening, paralyzing, poisoning, or being stunned (or I guess replace those with another instance of being poisoned), and the latter makes the target poisoned with no save for a round. Hey, you get what you pay for.

7. Rogue 1: Now that your poison is up to snuff, we can focus on your assassin skills. Multiclassing into rogue nets you a Deception proficiency and the ability to speak Thieves’ Cant. Grungs don’t get common as a racial language, so this might actually help when you try to communicate with the rest of the party. You also get a Sneak Attack for extra damage with finesse weapons. You also get Expertise in two skills, doubling your proficiency with those skills. Your Deception and Insight game are on point now.

8. Rogue 2: Second level rogues can make a Cunning Action on their bonus action. They can use this to dash, disengage, or hide. Hey, that’s most of what monks have to spend stuff to do!

9. Rogue 3: Third level rogues get their subclass, and as your class name would suggest you’re an Assassin! As an assassin, you can Assassinate targets, giving you free advantage on creatures who haven’t taken a turn yet and giving you free critical hits on surprised creatures. Your poisonous skin doesn’t actually kill people in this universe, but a knife to the back can be pretty good too.

10. Bard 1: We need spellcasting for a feat we’re grabbing later, so sorry for the third class. I promise we were trying to make something simple this time. As far as justification goes, you’re the embodiment of a fictional story, the “Poison Damsel”.

You can cast Spells using your Charisma, and you can hand out Bardic Inspiration to your allies (thankfully not by touch), giving them an extra d6 to use on one attack roll, ability check, or saving throw. You can inspire people a number of times per long rest equal to your charisma modifier. You also get another skill proficiency. Sleight of Hand is pretty useful, especially when your hands kill people.

For spells, grab Friends and Charm Person to string your enemies along, Longstrider and Feather Fall to make up for all the monk levels we’re missing out on, and Minor Illusion and Disguise Self to perfect your disguises. Not that being a frog isn’t still and issue for you- your size will seriously limit how many people you can pretend to be.

11. Rogue 4: Use this ASI to become a Poisoner, allowing you to ignore resistance to poison damage, apply non-grung poisons to weapons as a bonus action, and create powerful poisons with a poisoner’s kit. More powerful than your skin, at least.

12. Rogue 5: Fifth level rogues can use their Uncanny Dodge as a reaction, halving damage from an incoming attack. Smart enemies will be using reach weapons, which tend to hurt a bit. Try not to touch the pointy bits.

13. Rogue 6: You get another round of Expertise, doubling your proficiency for Stealth and Sleight of Hand for the perfect getaway.

14. Rogue 7: Seventh level rogues get the powerful Evasion technique, turning your failed dexterity saves into successes for avoiding damage, and successes negate all damage entirely! Also, your sneak attack grows to 4d6. We’re not going to bring it up every time, just know it grows on odd levels.

15. Rogue 8: Having to rely on spell slots for shapeshifting is for nerds! Use this ASI to become an Eldritch Adept, allowing you to get the invocation Mask of Many Faces, which lets you cast Disguise Self at will! Now you can save all those spell slots for more useful things.

16. Rogue 9: Ninth level Assassins get Infiltration Expertise, allowing you to spend a week making a new identity that lasts until others are given obvious reasons to call you sus. Looking the part can only get you so far- nobody mistrusts paperwork.

17. Rogue 10: Now that we have your feats down, we can finally start boosting your abilities! Use this ASI to round up your Constitution and Wisdom scores for more survivability. 

18. Rogue 11: Eleventh level rogues have Reliable Talent, meaning all your d20s will always roll at least a 10 when making checks you’re proficient in. You’re not bad at the things you’re good at, surprising I know.

19. Rogue 12: Use your last ASI to bump up your Charisma for stronger disguises. Wait, we’re done already?

20. Rogue 13: Our capstone level nets you the Imposter ability, allowing you to copy another creature perfectly if you spend three hours studying their speech, handwriting, and mannerisms. You also get advantage on deception checks to maintain the charade. Then it’s just a matter of time before you sink a poisoned sneak attack in their neck and vent out of electric.

Pros:

Rogues with sneak attacks are scary. Rogues with guaranteed crits on their sneak attacks are even scarier. Rogues that can reliably poison their guaranteed critical hit sneak attacks are seriously bad news. You can do some serious damage if you get the drop on someone, is what I’m trying to say here.

Like all Hassans, this build is pretty mobile, with 45 feet of running and climbing speed, ridiculous hops, and a smaller size to squeeze into places other races can’t follow.

When you’re not dealing absurd damage, you can deal plenty of status effects too. Poison, stun, charm, it’s all yours to deal out as you wish!

Cons:

Poisoning things isn’t good. Even ignoring the fact that you’re eating up a bonus action to add some damage to one attack (even rangers get a better deal than that) plenty of creatures in the monster manual are immune to poison anyway. Thankfully you’re not completely defenseless, since your sneak attack doesn’t care what kind of damage it deals. All the coolest poisons are hidden in the dungeon master’s guide anyway.

Grung are a lot of things, but masters of disguise is not one of them. Your size means your ability to use Disguise Self is severely limited, and any nonmagical disguises will have their work cut out for them. Disguising yourself as a different grung won’t help much, they’ll still track you down because you’re probably the only other grung they’ve seen in town.

Just going to come out and say it- your magic isn’t nearly as powerful as it needs to be to be reliably used for disguises. Fortunately very few people bother investing in Investigation, but it can still be a serious issue when your spell save dc is around 14 for most of the game.

[vastanxc]

Conversation

Raven stood still, watching her boyfriend sweep the dust in his room. It was a great contrast that the young man, who with a change of attire, goes out to fight criminals and villains. To a simple boy who sweeps the dust on the floor of his room.

- What's the matter, beloved?

Damian told her, without turning to look at her, while he kept sweeping.

- It's very rare for me to see you sweep.

- Why is that?

- You are the son of a billionaire and when you are not, you are the crown prince of a legacy.

- I see... Haven't I ever told you that I clean the floors of a Buddhist monastery?

- Really?

- It was after I met my father and my confrontation with Slade. I needed some time just to think. The monastery gave me the time to be able to see myself as one more person in this world. Not prince. Not legacy. No titles or money... Just me. But to pay for my stay I had to do something, so they gave me a bucket of water, a rag and a brush.

- Wow...

Raven was surprised about such a story. She would never have imagined that Damian had gone through that.

- Eventually, I came back when I found out my father was missing. That led to the discovery of my clones, my mother's plan to control my father... and the eventual death of her.

She had no words to say. It is the first time Damian had talked so much about his life, and all she really wanted was to keep listening.

- But going back to the original theme. I can sweep the floor too, beloved.

- Yes... can I ask you a question?

- Always.

She smiled at that answer.

- What did you think on the monastery?

- To be honest with you. Same thing I'm thinking now.

- And that's it?

- The options that have been presented throughout my life so far. Before I met my father, the only option I had was to be worthy of being the future leader of the league of assassins. After meeting my father, I am presented with the option of being a hero, of saving people... not kill.

- ...

- After being part of the Titans, be part of a team... of having fun... even if most of the things Koriand'r  forces us to do lack fun for  me..

- What happened at the zoo was an accident, Damian. Animals aren't supposed to be that nervous. That was Gar's fault. No one had a good time that day.

- That explains why they closed early.

Damian finished sweeping and took care of throwing away all the dust left inside the dumpster. He saw his partner, now sitting on his bed, looking at him attentive to his movements. He walked to her and sat next to her to continue his talk.

- I have many more options now than I had in 10 years with the league... falling in love with you was one of the most  curious.

-Yes? Whyis  that?

She said insinuatingly.

- All my life I was told that this was a weakness and when I arrive with my father, he did not make me see that it was a mistake. I saw Grayson have a relationship with Koriand'r  and I could see that he seemed  happier to have her by his side... but at the same time, in Gotham, I saw him fornicate with other women, even criminals. I did think Koriand’r was nothing more than Grayson's sexual relief while he was here.

- I am fond of Richard... but he, at times, is nothing but a slut who goes with anyone.

- His promiscuity is disturbing.

- Well... Kori does not mind. Her culture is different... but he can be a harlot.

- I agree.

They were silently nodding on their verdict,  but the curiosity of the magician was greater.

- So... what about me? From what you tell me, everything told you that our relationship would not be useful to you.

- I don't know to tell you the truth... but with each day that passed, I could see that the fact of seeing you gladdened my days... and I thought that couldn't be a bad  thing. In our missions, I was worried about you even though I know you are more than capable of defending yourself... yet I did it anyway.

- ...

- Doing that cost me a couple of fists on my face, I must say.

She laughed and he smiled at seeing that he had made her laugh.

- However... never expect you to say your feelings  that way...

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

- Talk to me.

- I'm fine, Damian..

- No. You're not. Of all of them here, you are the one I can empathize the most. Talk to me. What occurred on the mission?

- In the explosion... I saw a couple... she had her boyfriend in her arms... she begged him not to die, but he did... and I could saw his soul separating from his body. And I could feel the pain she felt... numb all my senses. I didn't see the wall falling on me... and I only felt myself in your arms once you got me out of there.

- ...

- I want to...

- Tell me.

- I want to do something... but I want you to promise me that no matter what I do... things between you and me will stay the same.

- ... I promise...

- Ok... I'm in love with you...

- ...

- But I want you to tell me you don't feel the same way. Because... if I feel something like what that girl felt for her boyfriend... And something happens to you... I do not know.... I think, I would not be able to take it, Damian...

- ...

- So... just tell me I'm not reciprocated, get out of my room...  and we'll go on as before.

The girl faked a smile as she dried a tear that had fallen down her cheek. Damian walk to her and stood face to face.

- I'm sorry.

- ....

- But I'm not going to do any of that.

- Damian...

- I am here, in front of you, with the same feelings that you  have. Don't ask me not to accept them or tell you that I don't feel the same way about you.

- ...

- Please... don't deny me to be by your side.

The young woman surrendered and embraced her companion while he responded in the same way.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

- I'm sorry I put you through that day, Damian. You even got hurt that time.

- Wounds on my body are not rare find, beloved.

- Still... I think of you too, Damian.. 

- Do you think about your options?

- Yes... my options  were also very limited before I entered the Titans. Hard to have when you are not even human.

- I imagine...

- I always thought my demon part would bring problems in our relationship.

- That's never bothered me.

- Yes... thing I do not understand yet.

Raven began to laugh, which confused Damian..

- What are you  laughing at?

- I remembered that time I transformed  while we were doing it.

- I do not see what the joke is.

- I get horns, fangs and claws, Damian. My eyes change... my body changes...

- All I remember is waking up at 12:30... I don't usually wake up so late.

- It will be because  you had me at your mercy until dawn.

- Do not you say it as if it had been against your will. I remember well your words of affection for me in your mother tongue.

- I gave you 5 classes and you already speak fluid my language.

- You  know I learn fast.

Raven supported her head on his shoulder, and he did the same against her head.

- I love you.

- Me too.

They were silent for several seconds until the magician ended up saying.

- You should sweep  more often.