#She's been through it so is pretty much rolling with whatever Gotham throws at her at this point bc it's been worse it can always be worse

[oculusxcaro]

//*runs in, sliding on my socks* I LOVE Khare. I think you really nailed the junji ito horror-esque body horror vibe I love to see in her aesthetic and how her mutations are, but outside of that she's just so good as a character. i live for the vibe of 'oh my life is already so weird anyway, so this might as well happen' rolling with the weird shit in gotham, and through it all she seems to maintain a creed of do no harm but take no shit which is *chef's kiss*

Please tell me your favorite things about my portrayal/muse?

Rosie! GOSH, this is such a lovely message for have received and like before, I'm sorry it took so long to answer because honestly? It's hard not to cry from the sweetness of it all, especially coming from such an established writer as yourself. So hearing such high praise (and that you like Khare!) is most uplifting to hear, squicky body horror and all! You know, back when I first started with her, I thought maaaybe the junji-ito horror-esque stuff might have been a little too extra? Too weird for anybody to like, so hearing that you do is a huge relief! Her condition is definitely meant to be unsettling, not something that's cute or attractive at ALL and that you mentioned the term really helps because I couldn't put a name to it, only that it was disturbing as all hell, body parts not being as they should. I'm also very happy you mentioned her vibes because those were exactly what I was trying to roll with, that so many weird and horrible things have happened that Khare is... kind of numb to it all at this point, so ghosts, clowns, criminals and all the crazy shit that happens in Gotham every night are just taken as it because, you know... at least she's not rotting in a lab in the middle of nowhere anymore.

[igotanidea]

Superstition: Jason Todd x witch!reader

requested by anon because it's October!

***

For some reason, the world is always in danger on Tuesdays.

And the newest threat to the existence of the people involved a group of superheroes and vigilantes and even anti-heroes gathering together to discuss the best way to tackle it.

Familiar faces and new ones, arrived at one deeply hidden lair (not really), not causing any reasons for suspicions (again – not really).

Who would pay attention to various, spandex-clad people, climbing to one apartment in the suburbs through the doors and windows, from the ground, air and water, right? It was freaking Gotham after all, weirdest things have happened.

And she was definitely someone new.

He didn’t pay much attention to that girl.

But somehow he noticed how she stood in the back of the room, watching everyone instead of joining in the conversation. How she mostly stayed quiet while the gathered was discussing plans and methods to defeat the newest opponent, only now and then throwing some well-pointed argument.

She was weird with that watchful eyes, focused face, specific kind of humor, wearing unusual clothes, speaking in a manner that indicated she knew something no one else did.

And that smell, he couldn’t quite decipher.

What was it?

Sage? Lavender? Rosemary?

Who, out of normal people, smells like kitchen seasoning?!

But –

Out of it all, she was at least useful. Or so it seemed, otherwise Dick would not bring her out to this meeting in the first place.  

And hell, he wouldn’t let her know everyone’s identities.

Well – not everyone. Jason was pretty stubborn with keeping his signature helmet on. He was not risking a stranger to know too much about him. Always the one to keep his cards close to his chest.

“Who is she?” he muttered to Dick, his voice distorted by the metal

“Her name is-“

“I don’t care about her name. What is she?”

“Huh?”

“Don’t make that face on me, Dickhead. You have aliens friends, robotic friends and turning-into-an-animal friends. What is she?”

“Oh, that!” Dick laughed, but then turned serious “I am not telling you that.”

Jason rolled his eyes. This was obviously a bait, and he was not some silly fish to rise to it.

“Fine. Don’t tell me.”

“You will have to- wait, what? You don’t want me tell you?” Dick’s face dropped a little

“Nope.”

“But-“

“I said nope.”

“Come on, Jas-“

“Don’t use my real name, idiot!”

“But I want to tell you!”

“A second ago you claimed that-“

“You are no fun.” Dick pouted like a five year old, crossed arms over his chest and after a moment of zero reaction from his brother walked away, probably to share how unfairly he had been treated.

***

She was a witch.

A freaking witch.

Without hair in her ears, warts, boils and hooked nose.

A witch!

Where was her cat? Her broom? Her – whatever else was a signature for that type of supernatural being.

“You might want to take it a little easier on me, you know?”

“Huh!?” Jason spun around only to notice she was now standing behind him with a soft face expression. “What are you-?”

“Oh, don’t you know that witch can read minds?”

“What now?” he blushed under the helmet on being called out on that, but obviously did not let it show. “Who gave you the permission to invade my head, witch!?” The last word was almost spitted with anger and venom dripping from the voice, followed by crossing arms that was supposed to be intimidating. However, much to his surprise she only chuckled. “Are you laughing at me now?!”

“Yes.”

“Careful there, harpy.” The second that word left his mouth he regretted it. First, she did not deserve to be judged so superficially and Jason should know better how painful it can be. Second, it showed that he was getting agitated and that was not the point. Third, fourth and fifth – she could drop him dead on the spot with her dark magic powers.

“Careful there, tin-head.”

Oh wow. She was mean.

“Or what?” he challenged

“Or I threw a curse at you.”

“And what?”

“Don’t test me.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Oh I bet, you’d be so happy, being able to boost to everyone who’d love to listen that you battled a witch that’s half your size, huh?”

“You don’t know me.” He scoffed, feeling a little offended and hurt.

“Well you don’t know me.”

Shit.

“What’s that scent you smell of?”

“Excuse me?!”

Idiot. At this point he felt like facepalming. So stupid trying to rectify the situation while simultaneously not wanting to say anything that would even resemble apology.

“The- ”

“It’s thyme. And verbena.”

“Why-?”

“It’s supposed to bring out luck and peace . And thyme brings out mental powers.”

“Hence the mind reading?”

“Oh, I was kidding about that. I cannot truly read minds. You were muttering to yourself and since I was standing close there was no way for me to not overhear.”

“So you are not-“

“A I’m -going-to-curse-you-with-pain-in-the-ass witch? No. I’m a little bit more reserved when it comes to that, but don’t tell anyone. I would be casted away from the clan.”

Despite himself he chuckled.

“So, what other discrepancies are there between you and the myths about the witch.”

“I’m not giving such secrets to just anyone, Hood.”

“I can respect that. Got my boundaries too.”

“Hence the helmet still on your face?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

“I can respect that.” She nodded, “The world can be awful when it comes to quick and superficial conclusions, right?”

His head snapped her direction. How come she was speaking freely all those words he was holding deep inside his heart. Why did it feel like she actually meant everything said and didn’t just throw around empty platitudes?

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Come on, you look at me like I’ve just murdered a cat for a dark ritual.”

“You can’t see my face. And I don’t like cats.”

“Sure not. Cause you are a dog person, right?”

“You’re being annoying.”

“And you’re being dramatic.”

God, he was hating her already.

***

Two weeks later, he was sitting in her apartment, helmet off, with her black cat on his lap, caressing the soft fur, observing carefully how Y/N was getting ready for the Valpurga Night, taking the weirdest clothes existing from the wardrobe. Judging by the style she had either robbed a homeless man or a prank store.

“Seriously this is how you guys are dressing?” he pointed out at the black robe and a pointy hat.

“What? No! Of course not, are you crazy? This is my Halloween costume. No respectable witch will ever wear a hat like this. God, last time the chairwoman of the assembly had a channel costume and three sets of pearls. Show off she was…”

Jason laughed despite himself.

“You’ve got a Halloween costume six months in advance?”

“Stop laughing or I’ll-“

“Curse me, yeah, yeah, I know the drill.” He raised hands in surrender, causing the cat to meow desperately, demanding more touches. “See, your cat likes me, why can’t you?”

“That cat happened to swallow too much catnip when I was preparing my potions earlier today. He’s not a credible judge at the moment.”

“I’d rather take his judgment over yours.”

Y/N flicked her wrist and the blanket on the bed wrapped over Jason turning him into a giant burrito.

“Seriously, this is the best you can do? Claiming to be powerful and –“

A second later he was levitating by the ceiling, heads down, not liking it at all.

***

One month later he found himself having a panic attack during the night. All the memories from the pit, the pain, the hurt, the trauma came back flooding him like a freaking tsunami.

The last thing he wanted was seeing and hearing things that did not exist.

A lunatic that was what he was.

And there was only one person he knew who was familiar with supernatural things and knew how to play with minds and reality with her skills.

“Y/N.” he stuttered to the phone, her name the only lifeline connecting him with the remnants of crumbling reality.

“I’m on my way.”

Of course she already knew what was happening.

Of course she was already coming to him, to save him from himself.

Ten minutes later, the window creaked and she just flew inside effortlessly, discarding her cloak on the floor and rushing to his side.

“The doors are out there, you weirdo” he stuttered, hating that she saw him in this vulnerable state. “You had to make a show, didn't you?”

“Though it could lift your spirits.” She muttered, without a hint of tease in her voice “and speaking of spirits, can I?” her hands lingered around his head.

“Please…”

Softly and slowly, she placed both palms on his temples, whispering something that might have been a spell, incantation or that curse she was threatening him with since the moment they met.

Regardless of what she chose to place on him, it seemed to work. The fog on his brain slowly dispersed and he almost felt the fear and anxiety floating away.

At least she was useful.

“What- what did you-?”

“hush. Quiet. Here, take that” she handed him a little vial.

“what’s that?”

“A poison. What do you think, jar-head? It; a potion. It will strengthen you.”

“I don’t need strengthening-“

“Just take it.” Her smaller hands wrapped around his, forcing him to keep the bottle. “Please.” For a moment their gazes met and the time seemed to stop. “I can’t risk having you waking me up in the middle of the night again, right?”

“Waking you? Thought you were out casting spells and running naked over the meadow?”

“Not really. It's the incoming moon phase. It’s the time for white magic, and we both know I’m a dark witch right?”

They both chuckled softly. She was as dark as Jason was lenient towards criminals.

“Stay?” he asked softly

“Yeah, I’ll stay.”

***

He didn’t plan it.

Definitely not, but how was he supposed to help being drawn towards that weirdo that seemed to shake up his world? How could he resist the pull towards the otherworldly and the only person that seemed to understand him completely?

The first time she saw him use the all caste he almost noticed the admiration in her eyes.

The first time he observed her actually casting curses and using her powers he felt like he could jump into fire for her.

And it was not because of a spell.

He was –

Oh boy….

A vigilante and a witch.

A walking zombie and a mistress of spirits and supernatural.

What could possibly go wrong?

[roseworth]

cassrose + "I'm not leaving you here." <3333

send me a prompt 💕

(don't think about where in the timeline this takes place because it is simultaneously in like 5 different places and also nowhere)

-

Rose used to wonder why so many people lived in Gotham, and why all those people were so proud of being from Gotham. 

She understood now. Gotham was where people went when they didn’t have anywhere else to go. It was the home of people that didn’t belong anywhere else, and they found belonging through that.

Rose didn’t have anywhere else to go, so she ended up in Gotham. It was constantly cold and rainy, and the citizens saw everyone else as a threat.

Rose felt right at home.

She was going to have to get used to being alone. She used to have her mom to fall back on, or even the Titans, but those were both long gone. Her mother was dead, and she certainly thoroughly burned her bridges with the Titans. 

One nice thing about Gotham City, though, was that there weren’t any anti-homeless measures that hadn’t been removed. The Bats never hid the fact that they tore away any spikes and rails on benches. 

Ugh. The Bats. That was the worst part about staying in Gotham: She was sure the Bats would never leave her alone if they found her here. She could only imagine Tim’s stupid pity face if he saw her living on the streets of Gotham. 

Whatever. She didn’t need their help, and she certainly didn’t need their pity. She could be alone. It was much better than being with Slade.

A chill ran down her back at just the thought of finding Slade again. She never wanted to see his face again unless it was in a morgue.

She ducked into an alley, hoping to find a nice dumpster to sleep under or something. She could figure out what she’s going to do tomorrow, but tonight she’s worn out and pissed off and alone and she just wants to rest.

As soon as she sat down, though, she knew she was being watched.

She wished she could say that she learned those instincts from her mom, but that was all Daddy Dearest. Her mother taught her how to fight. Slade taught her how to be hunted. 

She slowly reached for her sword, hoping that whoever was watching her wasn’t trained. She really was not in the mood for a fight right now. 

She stood back up, shifting herself into a fighting stance and holding her sword in front of her and keeping her back to the wall. “Come on out!” she shouted into the shadows. “I’ll go easy on you if you show yourself now!”

There was a soft rustling, then a silhouette stepped out in front of her. 

Fucking Bats. 

“Batgirl,” she said through gritted teeth. “Long time no see.”

Batgirl reached up slowly and pulled her cowl off. She didn’t look like she was about to fight, but Rose refused to let her guard down.

“Cass,” Batgirl said. “That’s my name. Cassandra.”

Rose rolled her eyes. “I know. I took a contract on you, of course I know your name.”

Cass blinked. “How?”

Slade told me, she thought bitterly. “I have my ways.”

Cass hummed in thought, then stared at her with an expression that seemed a little too calculating for comfort. Rose felt her entire body tense under Cass’s gaze. “What do you want?” she hissed. 

“I saw you come here,” Cass said simply. “Wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Okay?” Rose laughed harshly. “Where was that attitude when you stabbed me in the fucking neck, Batgirl? You saw what Slade was doing to me, and you let him! Hell, you encouraged it!”

“I didn’t,” Cass huffed. “Encourage it. I didn’t.”

“You didn’t? ‘Cause it sure as hell seemed like you did.”

“You needed to… to see it for yourself. It wouldn’t have helped if I had told you he was bad.”

“Bad?” Rose repeated, throwing her sword on the ground and taking a step closer. “Yeah, he’s pretty fuckin’ bad. So ‘bad’ that I’m lucky I left with my life. And no one even bothered to help me!” She stalked forward until they were inches apart, glaring straight into her eyes. “So I’m not going to thank you for letting me figure it out for myself, or whatever you think. But I am perfectly fine on my own, so fuck. off.”

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

“I want to help you now,” Cass said. “I can–”

“That’s the thing about you ‘hero’ types, you know that?” Rose interrupted. “You think you know what’s best for everyone, but really, you–”

“I don’t,” Cass cut in. “I don’t know what’s best. But I know… you.”

Rose froze. Cass said it with so much conviction, so assured in herself that it almost sounded true. 

And that pissed her off more than anything else. 

Rose knew how Cass fought, so she had to be quick. She threw a punch, hoping that she would reach her right before she knew to react. Unfortunately, things hadn’t exactly been working out for her lately.

Cass ducked under the punch, causing Rose to stumble forward with the momentum. “Son of a bitch,” she muttered, picking herself up and lunging again. Cass dodged once again, causing Rose to fall straight to the ground. 

As much as she hated to admit it, her time with Slade made her a better fighter. He helped her use her precognitive vision to her advantage to win a fight. Not that it was doing her any favors now. She leapt to her feet and threw another punch despite knowing full well there was no chance of it connecting. 

In a strange way, she was glad she was losing this fight. Slade would be so disappointed to see her attacking without thinking. He would say something like This isn’t how I trained you, or You’re supposed to be better than this. 

She kind of liked letting him down.

Rose went to kick her, but Cass grabbed her leg in midair, letting her fall back on the ground. Rose took a few deep breaths, then stood back up, brushing herself off as Cass kept giving her the same blank stare.

“Well, if that’s all, then I think we’re done here,” she said through heavy breaths. “You can be on your merry way, and I’ll continue to mind my fucking business, and we don’t have to see each other again, okay?”

“I’m not leaving you here.”

“Yeah? And why not?”

“Because I know you.”

“Uh huh, you said that before, but I don’t think you understand anything about me.”

“You ran away from your father because… you didn’t believe in what he does,” Cass said, never breaking eye contact. “You… trusted him, and now you don’t. So you don’t know how to trust. You think you’re better off alone after everything, and you think… no one will be there for you anymore. You’re alone and… want to do everything for yourself. You’re scared and angry. But you don’t have to be alone.”

Rose clenched her fists and tried to muster up the coldest glare she could. “Go away.”

“No.”

“Go away.”

“Rose,” she whispered. “You’re better than what he wanted you to be.”

And for some stupid reason, that was what made her break. After getting left behind by everyone, leaving Slade, surviving on her own… after everything, she hadn’t shed a single tear. But now, the dam is broken and she can’t even breathe anymore. Her entire body is shaking under her own weight, and the tears won’t stop pouring down her face, and she collapsed onto the ground and now she can’t even feel her body, can’t even feel her own arms wrapped around herself.

“I don’t want to be alone,” she sobbed quietly. “I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

“I know,” Cass said, gently cupping Rose’s cheek. “You don’t have to be.”

[mxtantrights]

The magic-spy and the bird

the best friends brother trope is in my top 5 tropes. but I've also got a thing for angst. So here we areeeee. enjoy! <3

dick Grayson x f!reader

Jason Todd had asked you specifically to ask his brother out. And he did use the word brother, which you made a point to bring up. He shot it down but still decided to push his message towards you. You should ask Dick out. It wasn’t that simple.

“Jay I don’t think you’ve thought this through.” you said.

He chuckled, “Of course I did. I wouldn’t say it out loud if it wasn’t a well-cooked plan.” 

You made a face at him.

“Okay look, all I'm saying is you’ve got nothing to lose. If anything you're way out of his league.” he said and then gulped down the rest of his beer.

You didn’t like beer and so you worked on a Pina colada. You had done the whole beer thing for years now. As a trained spy it was your go-to for missions at bars. Safe to say you were sick of ales, craft beers and everything in between.

“Ah yes, the magic using spy.” you nodded your head.

Jason nodded along with you. 

“Exactly. Bird brains would eat that up.” he said.

“And when would I tell him that I knew about his secret identity? Before I tell him about mine or after?” you asked. 

Jason sighed and raised his hand for another beer. You rolled your eyes at this. Once he had a thought it was very hard for him to let it go. Especially when it included a thought about people he cared for- no matter how much he claimed the opposite. 

“All Im saying is, you never know until you try.” 

“What are you a fortune cookie?” 

“Fuck off. I’m being serious and I do give great advice you can ask Duke.” 

2 DAYS LATER 

You look at Caliban with bated breath. He had just gotten info on a magic-based rebellion. Work was tight when you rolled with the good guys for too long of a time. You blame that on two men on your life, Jason and Constantine. 

“I’ll put in a good word for you.” he says.

“Thank you, I really appreciate it. And any-”

Before you can finish telling Caliban that he can call in a favor from you at anytime your surroundings change. In a flash you go from one of the underworld crime bars to a room you’ve never been in before.

You look around and sure enough you see the culprit. Constantine.

“There she is!” he smiles.

Not only did he summon you, he did so in front of an audience. Circled around him is Gotham’s crime fighting family. All of them except Jason, Cass and Duke. All of which know about your secret identity and would’ve stopped Constantine from summoning you. The rest of the family are all looking at you liked you’ve grown a second head.

You look down at what you’re wearing. The long sleeve off the shoulder skin tight black dress was the perfect choice for the club you were supposed to be in. Maybe not so much for a meeting with the Bats and his birds.

You look right ahead at Constantine, “I don’t like being summoned.” 

“Ah, but you’re the best person I know for this job. I had to get you over here.” he says.

You take a quick look at all the other people in the room. Then at the screen behind them. Your information is plastered on it. Well, the information that you’ve decided to let the government think was yours. Your codename was at the top of the screen.

“Constantine says that you’re the best way into the underworld.” Batman says.

You’re confused to say the least. Constantine was Constantine, why would he call you in order to get them into the underworld when he can do it himself? It defeats the purpose of having to call him.

“I’m sorry,” you direct to Batman and then look at your friend, “I need you to state specifically what I’m needed for.” 

Constantine moved from the family over to you. As he did you watched as Nightwing followed him with his own eyes. Now Dick knows you’re not just Jason’s friend from around Gotham. Great.

“Bats got intel that something it going down with this magic group, the-” he starts. “hex mutiny.” you finish.

“You already know about them?” Nightwing says.

“I was just getting someone to put in a good word for me with them before you summoned me here. You’ve got great timing you know that?” you say to Constantine.

He smiles, “Well then it seems like you can be of great service, spygames.”

“And what exactly would I be doing, if I can even get a spot with them?” you throw out the question to the family.

Red Robin crosses his arms, “We need someone on the inside to tell us what they are planning for Gotham.”

“I doubt they’d let a newbie in on their plans.”

“Good thing you won’t be a newbie.” Batman says.

Constantine conjures an amulet in his hand. You want to hit him over the head. He could really be a pain in the ass. You grab it from him.

“With this, you’ll be in the perfect position to get in and get out. Easy.” he says.

You shake your head, “Every time you say that I get a new scar.” 

“I promise sweetheart. No scars this time.” 

“Yeah yeah, you owe me for this.”

EXACTLY ONE WEEK LATER

You knew you would end up wounded. Typically with Constantine it was nothing deadly, or nothing your own magic couldn’t fix. But you knew that your luck had to run out some day. And it wasn't his fault.

After finding out what the group was really up to you couldn’t just let them operate. They weren’t really rebels. No they used that name to paint a narrative. They were fascists.

You held the wound to your waist to stop the bleeding. This would have to be the farthest you could go. There was no way you could run out of this. Not with the blood seeping through the cracks of your fingers.

At least you brunt the members down to the ash. It took a lot out of you. And that’s why you weren’t prepared for a hit that tore right through you. 

“Why aren’t you moving?” Jason, or Redhood, said through the comms.

You leaned against the hallway wall.

At least you’d die someplace pretty. When you first came in you didn't notice how clean and meticulous everything was. There were painting of famous magicians on the walls. Along with some stolen art, a Van Gogh or two. 

You ripped the amulet off your neck and felt the illusion fade. The necklace fell to the floor and you let out a pained breath.

“I think,” you coughed and on the clean wall was not splatters of blood, “this is it.”

You could hear Jason shouting on the other end. He was calling out your name, calling out for Constantine to come and help you. Duke was calling for you too. And you could’ve sworn you heard Cass say your name once. 

With your only free hand you tried to open a portal out of the base. You knew it would be useless as you had a mortal wound and portal magic works best under no stress and panic, or blood loss. The usual light from your hands glowed faintly until it didn’t.

“Constantine can’t summon you?” Dick asked.

At that you let your body drag down the wall until you reached the floor. When you did sit down more blood came out. So you decided to lay down horizontally. 

“Hey hey- I told you I wasn’t gonna let anything happen to you.” you hear Constantine through the comms.

You want to laugh, but it ends out more of a chocked gargle.

“I screwed up the mission. I deserve it.” you said.

“You did good. Better than any of us.” Batman said.

“Constantine you need to call in whatever favors you have to get her out of there. Now!” Jason shouted.

“Dont,” you started.

“No. We’re getting you out of there-”

“Jason, I’m not a saint. I never would’ve imagined going out like this.” you said.

Once you were born you were thrusted in this world. All you knew was to use magic as a weapon. To get ahead, to get power, to get the glory. And that lasted you until you turned 19. 

Then Constantine crossed paths with you. He was the one to show you that magic has other uses. Such as helping and healing. You learned the best stuff from him.  And you took what you learned and began to help in ways you could.

You didn’t go on the straight and narrow. Never did you consider yourself a morally correct person. Sometimes the lines were blurred, or they need to be blurred. And so you took down seedy organizations, went on recon missions all over the world.

It wasn’t justice. But it was close enough that you could sleep at night or the odd hours of the morning for more than four hours.

“Sweetheart I don’t break my promises.” Constantine said finally.

You were just beginning to feel your eyes grow heavy. The pain was starting to be comfortably numb. Then above you appeared someone you weren’t expecting in the slightest. 

“Caliban?” you asked.

“You owe me double.”

4 DAYS LATER

When you woke up you felt battered and weak You weren’t used to these feelings and you weren’t used to being so close to death. Everyday was a new experience when you’re the Priestess of Espionage.

You cracked open one eye to find a couple of deviants at your side. Jason, Duke and Cass. The youngest took the chair next to you while Duke and Jason seemed to take the floor. Since they weren’t in their gear you guessed that you were out for longer than a couple of hours.

“Not my version of hell but I’ll allow it.” you say in a raspy voice.

It wakes everyone up.

Jason and Duke bolt to your bedside.

“Why’d you almost die on me?” and “Are you feeling okay?” come from them both, respectively. It makes you want to laugh but when you feel the ache in your waist you stop yourself.

“I’m alive, so there’s that. Positives.” you answer.

Jason shoots his younger siblings a look and they scurry out the room. You try to sit up to ask what it was for but he puts his hands up for you to stop any movement. So you lay back down.

“He would kill me if you tore your stitches.” 

You shut your eyes, “Jason I don’t think Constantine would kill you per say.”

You hear the door opening so you decide to open your eyes. And sure enough you see Jason leaving the room and someone coming in. Dick Grayson, out of his suit as well. 

As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t read his face. Besides the clear betrayal that was there. He definitely knew that you knew he’s Nightwing.

“Hi.” you say.

His face softens, “Hi.”

“I just want to say that I would’ve told you about who I am. Sooner that you think actually but this mission kinda derailed all of that.” you say.

With his arm crossed over his chest he nods, “How long did you know I was Nightwing?”

You wince.

“For about two years now. Once Jason told me he was Red it was hard to not notice the similarities of the Wayne family and the Bat one.” 

He laughs at that and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. It must be going good if he wants to laugh. 

“And when did he tell you that I like you?” he asks.

“He didn’t explicitly say that.” 

There’s a beat of silence. You’re looking at him and he’s looking at you. But he’s the one who seems to be holding his breath this time. You try to hide the smirk you feel forming on your lips.

“What?” he asks.

“Jason had told me that I should ask you out. He didn’t say anything about you liking me.” you answer him.

The red tint that covered Dick Grayson was absolutely adorable.

He nods his head to himself. Twice.

“I- I’m gonna get Jason for you.” he moved to the door.  And you don’t really know what to say. All your words get jumbled in your brain and you can’t put them together in a way that is smooth enough so you deicide to just try your best.

“If you were to ask me out, I would say yes.” you say.

He looks directly at you. Then his signature smirk appears.

“I’ll bring back some food for later.” he says.

“it’s a date.” you answer.

[marauderundercover]

This Side of Normal Ch. 9

AO3

Prev

Marinette blinks at the house in front of her in shock. She didn’t know what she had expected when Dick had mentioned a trapeze at his house. She definitely hadn’t expected the house to look like...this.

“Your house is freaking huge.” Marinette says.

“Not my house. It’s the guy who adopted us. Me and Dickie bird.” Jason says, slinging an arm over Adrien’s shoulders to reach over and ruffle her hair. 

“Are you sure that it’s okay we’re here?” She asks, frowning. 

“Sure! Besides, B’s probably still at work.” Dick says, grinning as the door opens. 

“Master Dick, Master Jason. I see you’ve brought guests.” An older man says, quirking an eyebrow. Marinette smiles awkwardly. 

“Hi. I’m Marinette, and this is Adrien.” She says, extending her hand. The man nods, shaking her hand. 

“Pleasure to meet you, Miss. I am the family’s butler and caretaker, Alfred Pennyworth.” He says. Marinette smiles. 

“Nice to meet you as well, Monsieur Pennyworth.” She says. 

“I’m gonna go try and show Mari here some trapeze moves.” Dick explains with a wide grin. 

“Very well. Should I plan for two more at dinner?” Mr. Pennyworth asks. 

“Oh, no, I don’t-” Marinette starts to argue, but Dick cuts her off. 

“Yes please!” He says before hurrying down the hallway. “Come on slowpokes!” He adds with a grin. Marinette looks at Jason pleadingly. 

“You’re the one who said you were gonna adopt Dick as your brother. This is all on you, Pixie Pop.” He says with a smirk, continuing to walk after Dick. Marinette groans, but follows, glaring at Adrien who snorts at her pain. 

“You’re a little bitch.” She mumbles under her breath, glaring at him. He rolls his eyes. 

“You know you love me.” He says. Marinette speeds up her walk, careful to keep Dick in sights at all times. This place was huge. She bumps into Adrien, nudging him with her shoulder as they walk down the hall. 

“Okay, okay, are you guys ready for this?” Dick asks, stopping in front of closed double doors. Marinette nods and Dick grins before pushing open the doors. Her jaw drops as she looks into the gym. It had everything you could possibly want or need. Including a bunch of gymnastics equipment, aerial silks and a trapeze. It was amazing. 

“Wow.” She says, eyes wide as she looks around. This was even cooler than she’d imagined. 

“Man, this would’ve been helpful a year ago.” Adrien mumbles, and Marinette snorts, knowing he’s thinking back to their rooftop training sessions with Jason. And all the times they got scraped up from the rough roofs. She glances over at Jason, noticing the thoughtful look on his face. Probably thinking the same thing, she thinks before turning back to Dick. 

“So, how do we start?” She asks, bouncing back and forth between the balls of her feet. This was going to be so freaking cool!

---

This is so worth a trip to Gotham! Marientte thinks to herself as she flies through the air. Dick was surprised at how quickly she caught on for her first time (she pointedly ignored the snorts from Adrien and Jason who both knew this was not her first time flying through the air). Once they get back to the platform, Dick’s phone starts to ring and he smiles apologetically. 

“I’ve really gotta take this.” He says, darting down the ladder and rushing out of the gym to answer his phone. Marinette shrugs and follows him down the latter, punching Jason’s arm as she walks by him to grab a drink of water. 

“Ow, what the hell was that for?” He asks, rubbing his arm and glaring at the girl. 

“I saw you two idiots laughing at me.” She replies, shrugging. 

“Why do you still punch so hard?” Jason asks, and she can tell he’s starting to be concerned for her. She recognizes the look on his face. 

“Pent up aggression from fighting an emotional terrorist for a good chunk of my adolescence.” She deapans. He raises an eyebrow and she huffs. “Okay, I took up boxing.” 

“So have you both kept up with training?” He asks, visibly concerned. Marinette shares a look with Adrien, trying to decide if she should be honest or not. But...it’s Jason. So she has to be. 

“Yeah….” She draws out the word before sighing, pushing her bangs back from her face. “In our defense, it’s hard to go back to being a civilian after being a hero for several years. It’s just- especially with Guardian shit, right? Like, that’s a lifetime commitment. If I give it up, I give up my memories. I can’t do that, Jay. I’d forget you and Adrien and I can’t do that. So I don’t-” She pauses and lets herself take a breath. “I don’t have a choice.” Jason’s face drops into a scowl, but she knows it’s not directed at her. As much as she admired Master Fu, he was not the best mentor. And he left her without a choice when it came to hero work. Something she knew that Jason couldn’t forgive him for. Even if she tried to.

“Come on, we’re gonna spar.” Jason instructs, not giving her a chance to object. She sighs, but follows him over to the mats, immediately getting into position. 

“I fight better than I did a year ago.” She warns, and Jason grins. 

“That’s what I’m counting on Pixie Pop.” He says, immediately lunging towards her. Marinette jumps back, staying light on her feet as she gets used to sparring with Jason again. He wasn’t slow by any means, but he was much bigger than her, which meant he couldn’t jump around as lightly as she did. She’d have to use his weight against him. She leaps to the side and then brings a swift kick up, using her foot to kick his thigh, hard. He stumbles slightly, grinning widely before throwing a swing. Deciding to use his momentum, she grabs onto his arm and lets the swing of his arm lift her up so that she can wrap her arms around his neck in a chokehold as she clings to his back. 

“Oh come on Jay, don’t tell me you’ve already lost!” Adrien teases from the side. Marinette feels Jason tense and can tell he’s about to throw himself down, which would definitely end the fight for her. Instead of letting him get that far, she moves her hands to grip onto his shoulders and vault herself over him, rolling out of the leap and jumping back up, grinning from ear to ear. 

“You’ve learned some new tricks.” Jason praises, squaring his stance once again. 

“Enough to beat you, old man.” She teases, snorting at the faux hurt on Jason’s face. 

“You wound me, Pix.” He says, clutching his heart and shutting his eyes as if in pain. Marinette decides to use his momentary theatrics to her advantage and delivers a swift kick to the back of his left leg, throwing all of her weight into the kick. Jason yelps in surprise, and falls to the ground. 

“Jump rope!” She calls out to Adrien, knowing she saw one earlier. And also knowing that there was no way she could keep Jason pinned without assistance. She holds her hand up, catching the rope that Adrien tosses to her, using it to quickly tie his ankles and wrists together. She steps back and admires her handy work, snorting at the shocked look on Jason’s face. Slow claps coming from the doorway make her snap to attention, turning and glancing at the intruder. Her eyes widen at the boy, who appeared to be around their age. With dark spiky hair and brilliant green eyes- No. Bad Mari, stop falling for green eyes. Ugh. She blinks, shoving the thoughts from her mind. 

“Er- hi.” She says awkwardly, glancing over at Adrien who simply shrugs. 

“Who is it?” Jason asks, since he’s currently not facing the door. Marinette glances down at him and smirks. 

“Oh, you mean you can’t see, Jay? Why ever would that be?” She teases. He huffs. 

“I don’t know, some crazy Pixie chick tied me up with a freaking jump rope like an angry kindergartner.” He gripes back. She crosses her arms. 

“You do realize that ‘angry kindergartner’ is the only one who can untie you, right?” She asks, choosing to ignore the stranger in the doorway for now. 

“Not true. Someone else came in, and Adrien can also untie a couple knots.” Jason argues. Marinette glances at Adrien who shakes his head, despite the fact that Jason can’t see. 

“Yeah, sorry Jay. I’m not going against Mari. She’s kinda scary.” Adrien says, making Jason whine. 

“Who the fuck is at the door then?” He asks, obviously starting to lose his patience. 

“Tt. As if I would help you, Todd.” The boy says and Marinette feels herself melt slightly at his voice. It was so- NO. BAD MARI. STOP. NO. 

“His name’s Jason.” Adrien pipes up, and Marinette turns to him, frowning. Because, yes, his name is Jason. So then what-

“His last name is Todd.” The boy says, and Adrien’s face turns red. He rubs the back of his neck- his go to ‘I’m feeling awkward right now’ pose. 

“Oops.” He says with a lopsided smile. Marinette rolls her eyes playfully at him before turning back and looking right in the boy’s eyes. 

“Hi, I’m Marinette Dupain Cheng. That dork over there is Adrien.” She introduces with a short wave. 

“Pleasure. I’m Damian Wayne.” The boy, Damian, introduces. Marinette smiles at him, feeling herself start to get lost in his eyes again. It wouldn’t hurt to look for just a minute, besides, he wasn’t looking away either. And his eyes were such a pretty color-

“Could someone please fucking untie me.” Jason groans. Marinette blushes furiously, dropping down and swiftly untying Jason. 

“Sorry Jay.” She apologizes, wincing at the annoyed look on his face as he stands up. He simply grunts and ruffles her hair, making her protest. 

“S’okay Pix. Besides, now you can take me down without using Adrien as a distraction. Big improvement.” He compliments and her annoyed face quickly morphs into a wide smile. 

“Alfred sent me to let you know dinner is ready.” Damian says, an annoyed expression on his face. Marinette immediately blushes again and glances at Jason who simply raises an eyebrow. She groans and falls back in line with Adrien who had a knowing smirk on his face. 

“Shut up.” She mutters, elbowing the boy. He snorts, shaking his head at her. Jason starts to walk out, trading insults with Damian as the group makes their way to the dining room. 

“Whatever you say, Bug.” He says, throwing an arm over her shoulder. She narrows her eyes at him. 

“Say anything, and I’ll beat you with your own arm.” She whispers. He holds up his hands in surrender and she sighs in relief. Hopefully they’d make it through this dinner without Adrien embarrassing the hell out of her. Following Jason and Damian into what had to be the dining room, she’s surprised to see a guy a couple years older than them, and a much taller man who had to be Jason’s dad. 

“Hello, I don’t believe we’ve met.” He says, extending a hand. “I’m Bruce Wayne.” He says with a wide (but false, Marinette notes, watching how it doesn’t reach his eyes) smile. Marinette’s eyes widen and she glances at Jason who just rolls his eyes. 

“Mari, Adrien, this is my….father.” He says the word as if it’s bitter. Marinette makes a note to ask about that later. They’d already sent one asshole father to prison, she had no problems sending another. 

“Nice to meet you.” Marinette says, shaking his hand, her smile not reaching her eyes either. She wouldn’t give him a real smile, not until she’d talked to Jason about it. He had helped them so much, it only made sense to help him too. Dinner should be interesting.

Next

Tag list (open) @toodaloo-kangaroo @laurcad123 @kittenmywaythrulife @lost-in-the-world-of-maribat @queenz-z @daminette-56 

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Drinking Buddies

Masterlist

--- If Jason ends up going home with someone, call me and I’ll come pick you up.

Y/N read the text from her boyfriend with a smirk. He’d sent it 20 minutes ago, but she was just now seeing it.

It was the only message Dick had sent her all night, always trying to give her the independence and space she needed.

Dick was always amused by Y/N and Jason’s little “club.” It even became an ongoing joke within the family. But Dick also knew that there was something sincere underneath it, as well.

Dick realized early in their relationship that there were some things in Y/N’s past he could never fully understand or help her with. Yes, he had his own trauma. But it didn’t involve abuse. His parents had died, but there wasn’t a day before that when Dick felt unloved by them.

Jason and Y/N had parallel childhoods: abusive parents, fighting to survive on the streets of Gotham, robbed of a happy and sheltered adolescence. Unfortunately, they were both victims of the darkness that Gotham held. The same darkness that drove both of them to risk their lives to stop it from continuing.

Outsiders probably thought it was weird for a man to let his girlfriend go out with his younger brother alone. Especially when said brother was as tall and handsome and broody as Jason Todd. But Dick felt more comfortable doing that than when Y/N had girls’ nights. At least with Jason, Dick knew that Y/N would be safe.

But Dick also knew Jason needed a friend just as much as Y/N did.

--- I doubt that will happen. But I promise I’ll call you if it does. 

Y/N typed back.

--- You’re a freakishly good wing woman. Don’t underestimate yourself. 

Dick texted back instantly. 

--- Have fun. Be safe. I love you.

He double texted.

--- I love you, too. 

Y/N answered before slipping her phone back into her small purse.

“He’s so obsessed with you,” Jason commented without needing to ask who had her smiling down at her phone.

But Y/N wasn’t taking the bait that easily. “Good thing I’m obsessed with him, too.”

“He’s probably sitting at home and crying because he misses you so much.”

Y/N punched Jason in the arm. And it felt like punching a wall rather than a human being with skin, muscle, and fat. “Stop being mean. I didn’t come out with you to listen to Dick get ripped on.”

Jason gave her a crooked smirk. “You’re right. I wanted a drinking buddy.”

“Yes,” she agreed. But then she narrowed her eyes. “But you always wanted to talk to me about a woman.”

“I never said that.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “I have female intuition.” But her amusement and teasing faded. “Is it Artemis?”

Jason’s body tensed and gulped down the rest of his whiskey. 

“That obvious, huh?” He asked slowly, his embarrassment was easily caught.

“No, it’s not, actually. I’ve just been paying attention.”

“I told you I hated her and that she drives me to insanity,” Jason scoffed.

“Yeah, and I knew that was your sexual tension speaking,” Y/N teased with a tilt of her head and a smirk before taking a sip of her drink.

Jason chuckled at that. “You’re not wrong…”

“So,” Y/N leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms with interest. “Tell me about her.”

“She’s an Amazon. And a badass. She’s tall – taller than me, actually. Red hair. Doesn’t take anyone’s shit. Loves to pick a fight. Loves to get her way even more.” Jason sighed. “And…she’s beautiful,” he finished with. “Absolutely fucking beautiful.”

“OK. Now that you’ve basically given me her dating app bio,” Y/N ridiculed. “Get to the good shit.”

Jason glared at her.

But he took in a deep breath. “We’ve been…” he didn’t know how to put it politely.

“Fucking?” Y/N offered.

“Fine! Yes, alright?” He growled. “It was just casual at first. Friends with benefits – or whatever.”

Y/N couldn’t stop her laugh from escaping. 

“Jason, even though you try really hard to pretend to be a heartless hard-ass, you and I both know that you’re actually a hopeless romantic. So why you thought you were capable of having a fuck buddy, without falling in love with them, is beyond me.”

Jason rubbed his face in frustration. “I know. I fucking know, OK?”

Y/N finally decided to have some sympathy and gripped his shoulder. “You’re gonna be fine, bud.”

“Am I? I hate this. I feel like such an idiot. I don’t want to mess this up. But I also don’t want to keep pretending like I’m not in love with her.”

It was moments like these where Y/N truly forgot that Jason was also the Red Hood, one of Gotham’s most feared vigilantes. He was also a murderer, if she was being transparent. But right now, he just seemed like a lost young man, terrified of his own feelings.

“Why don’t you get us another round and I’ll put some music on the jukebox? And then we’ll figure out your shit,” she offered.

Jason smiled. “Deal.”

There were at one of the roughest dive bars in Gotham.

Jason was a regular – as was almost everyone else that was there.

He already made his reputation known. 

And even though on the outside he looked like a helpless pretty boy, the bar patrons learned rather quickly not to pick a fight with Jason Todd. Not that most of them wanted to, he was a perfectly polite guy and tipped far too nicely for the shit service he got there.

Y/N made her way to the vintage jukebox and started scrolling through her options.

“What are you picking? Justin Bieber?” A froggish voice said to her right.

Y/N paused to give him a glare. “Is that because I’m a woman?”

This was negging. And Y/N hated this pick up tactic more than any cheesy line.

The man shrugged. “Just wanted to make sure you put on something good.”

“Oh, I will,” Y/N snapped before turning her attention back to the songs.

“How about I help you DJ and then you let me buy you a drink?” He muttered far too closely to her ear.

It made a chill go up her spine and she suddenly felt ill.

“No thanks.”

“Come on. One drink,” he grabbed her wrist.

Y/N whipped her attention back to him and tried to tug her wrist away. “Don’t fucking touch me,” she growled.

But his grip tightened.

“Get your hands off her,” Jason barked suddenly from behind her.

Jason had at least 5 inches on the guy and was probably twice his weight.

It was enough to make the man immediately drop Y/N’s wrist. “Maybe don’t leave your girl alone…”

“She’s not ‘my girl.’ She’s my brother’s girlfriend,” Jason corrected with a glare.

He wanted to say more, but he could tell by Y/N’s body language that she didn’t want to start a scene, hating all the eyes that were already on them.

The man had given up. 

But not before both of them heard him mutter, “Fuckin’ whore.”

Without missing a beat, Jason punched him in the face.

The hit knocked the guy off his feet and possibly knocked out a few teeth. 

So much for not causing a scene…

“Say another word about her and I won’t use my hands next time,” Jason practically spit down to him. 

Then he slyly opened up his jacket to show that he had a gun on him.

The guy didn’t need to hear anything else. He jumped to his feet and tried not to run out of the place.

A beat passed before Y/N erupted into laughter.

“Oh, Jason! Oh, my knight in shining armor! You saved me!” Y/N put the back of her hand to her forehead dramatically as she mocked him.

“I should’ve let him grope you,” Jason mumbled as he led them back to their seats.

They both knew he didn’t mean it.

“Dick’s been showing me some self defense, you know.” Y/N beamed proudly as she took a sip of her new drink.

The bartender came over and silently offered them a free round of shots, proving that he’d seen the exchange. And this was his way of apologizing for their troubles.

Jason nodded his head in thanks before handing one of them to Y/N.

“Yeah?” He played dumb.

She nodded excitedly.

They clinked their shot glasses together before throwing them back.

“You know Dick would have my ass if I hadn’t intervened, right?” He asked her.

She sighed. “Yeah, I know. He’s overprotective like that.”

“I’d be the same way,” Jason agreed.

“Even if it was with an Amazon, who was bigger and stronger and had lived for hundreds of years?” Y/N teased, reminding him that she wasn’t done talking about his love life.

“Even then,” he smirked.

The night went on as normal. 

Y/N asked Jason a million questions about Artemis. 

And together, they came up with a game plan.

————————————

Dick was working on his computer.

Gray sweatpants on. No shirt. A couple of empty beer bottles on the coffee table where his feet were propped up.

He wanted to lie to himself and believe he was waiting up for Y/N to make sure she got home safe. But he knew Jason would die before he left anything happen to her – especially on his watch.

No, Dick didn’t bother trying to go to sleep because he basically couldn’t when Y/N was gone. 

Even if he was in bed and she was still up working or walking around the apartment, it was like Dick could feel her presence and that was enough. He needed her to sleep, even if she wasn’t right next to him.

Dick smiled when he heard the loud clattering of keys failing to match with the slot of the lock.

Finally the apartment door opened.

“Special delivery for Richard John Grayson!” Y/N screamed in a slur before he even could see her.

“Shh!” Jason hushed quickly. “He’s probably sleeping.”

But when they rounded the corner, Jason relaxed at the sight of Dick being wide awake.

Y/N was piggybacking Jason with a drunk smile.

“Looks like you two had fun,” Dick commented with a laugh.

“So much fun,” Y/N agreed.

But then she was squirming and Jason realized she wanted off. He released his protective grip on the back of her thighs and carefully dropped her to her feet.

Y/N sprinted to her boyfriend and tackled him into a hug on the couch.

Thankfully Dick saw this coming and had quickly moved the laptop off his lap before she crushed it.

“Well hello to you too,” Dick chuckled as she wrapped her body on top of his like a koala bear.

He kissed her forehead and ran his fingers through her hair.

“I’m very tired. And Jason wouldn’t get me Taco Bell,” she whined.

Jason looked offended and held his hands up in surrender. “I did try to get you Taco Bell, but it was closed.”

“He’s lying,” Y/N whispered.

“OK,” Dick managed to suppress his laughter. “How about we get you into bed and maybe chug some water?” Dick asked her softly.

She just nodded into his neck.

“Alright. Here we go,” Dick warned her before he managed to lift both of them off of the couch and carry her to their bedroom.

He helped her out of her clothes and then got her into one of his big t-shirts, not bothering with shorts or pants. He managed to convince her to take out her contacts before he handed her a makeup removal wipe. Then he very nicely asked her to drink some water for him.

“I’m gonna go say bye to Jason and then I’ll be right back,” he whispered as he tucked her into bed.  

Y/N sleepily nodded. “Jason punched a creepy dude for me. So be extra nice to him, K?”

Dick sighed.

Of course Jason did.

When Dick walked out of the bedroom, his younger brother was chugging a glass of water in their kitchen.

“You punched a dude?” Dick asked as he crossed his arms and gave him a suspicious look.

Jason shrugged. “Just another asshole who didn’t know the word no.”

“Thanks. For always looking out for her, I mean.”  

Jason nodded.

“You spending the night?” Dick asked.

They purposely rented a place that had a guest bedroom. It was rather common for someone from his family to crash. A lot of the time it was someone hiding from Bruce out of spite and needed some space from the manor.

“Nah. I just wanted to make sure she got home. I’m walking back to my place.”

Dick nodded, expecting that to be his response.

But Jason seemed to be lingering for some reason.

“You OK?” Dick asked him after a few moments.

“Yeah! Yeah, I just…Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“How do you make sure you don’t fuck it up?”

Jason didn’t need to clarify that ‘it’ was Dick’s relationship with Y/N.

Dick scratched the back of his head. This wasn’t a usual subject for him and Jason. They almost never talked about women with each other.

“I guess I just…” he thought about it for a moment. “I’m honest with her. So she never questions where we’re at. She always knows how I feel. And then it’s never scary for her.”

Jason nodded his head, clearly deep in thought as he mulled over Dick’s answer.

“I’ll see you guys later,” he finally said his goodbyes.

“Get home safe, yeah?”

Jason scoffed. “Always do.”

Dick locked the door behind his brother.

When he made his way back to the bedroom, Y/N appeared to be passed out.

But when Dick crawled into the other side, she instantly moved to him and placed a kiss on his bare chest.

“Hi,” she sighed sleepily.

“Hi,” he kissed the top of her head as he wrapped his arms around her. “What’s up with Jason?”

She smiled with her eyes closed. “Can’t tell you. It’s club business.”

Dick rolled his eyes and shook his head.

He tickled her sides. 

“Noooo,” Y/N whined as she buried her face into his chest.

Dick only stopped because her reaction was so adorable.

“I’m kidding,” she breathed her surrender. “Your brother…is in love.”

“In love, huh?” Dick said in awe, processing the idea. 

“And what advice did you give him?” He asked.

But when he looked down, he realized Y/N was now actually asleep.

Dick kissed her cheek and mentally reminded himself to run to the store early tomorrow so he could make them a greasy breakfast. He could only assume Y/N was going to need it with the inevitable hangover from a night drinking with Jason Todd.

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

Guess I wasn’t finished with them yet 😏

Let me know what you think. And I’ll see if I want to keep doing these. 

ALL BONUS CONTENT CAN BE FOUND: HERE

[iphoenixrising]

DickTimWeek2021 Day 2

** Day 2: Time Loop | Jealousy | Stray AU

Welp. Time to break some hearts.

They’re laughing like assholes as they climb through Timmy’s penthouse windows. 

“Did you see that thug punch himself in the face?”

“That’s the right way to get out of an ass beating by the Batman.”

Tim, still in Red Robin, doesn’t even bother, just lets his knees buckle so he can slide down to the floor and laugh until tears are rolling down the dominio still plastered on his face.

He’s riding the concussion train with 

(J)

Josephine and she’s not as bad as some of them are. 

Dick at least tosses the gloves and gauntlets before hauling Timmy’s bruised ass up off the floor, throwing the arm around his shoulders.

“C’mon, you butt. Really Timmy, just laying here in your suit? Alfred would be appalled.”

“S’why I don’t go to the Manor much anymore.”

“Ooh, I’m telling. You’re going to be in so much trouble,” as he gets Tim down the hallway to the bathroom.

“Y-You can’t! You’re the oldest! Dami’s supposed to be the tattle-tale!”

“Nu-uh. As the oldest, I can do whatever the hell I want.”

And does he tell on Timmy? You bet your ass he does.

It’s nice when Alfred can look at someone else in the family with extreme disappointment.

Tim comes by the Manor the day Alfred video chats him, shuffles down to the Cave behind the butler and absolutely sticks his tongue out at Dick’s smarmy grin.

**

His apartment is a literal mess and Dick can’t be bothered to do much more than flop on the overstuffed couch with a groan. 

Still in his uni from the day shift, he’s too bruised and battered and tired to even think of suiting up for the night. He’s been running himself ragged for two months, the day and night shifts blending together along with the usual bullshit of daily human life, and he desperately needs a night of terrible television, junk food, and snuggles.

Like he’d been reading the room, Timmy walks out of his bathroom, towel around his shoulder and hair just this side of damp.

“Hey, you made it home in one piece.” Tim’s long fingers in his hair literally pulls a noise out of Dick he can’t ever remember making.

“Yeah, I drove down because you looked like death warmed over when we talked last weekend. Luckily for you I went grocery shopping, did a few loads of your laundry, and cleaned up a little so you don’t have to worry about housework.”

“I love you. Have I told you that recently? Like, so, so much–” is muffled by the couch cushions, but he thinks Tim can probably still make it all out.

“Mmhm, I know,” and the gentle scratching against his scalp doesn’t stop, and Dick goes a little boneless with it. “I even brought my Roku so we can binge watch terrible television while you eat something more substantial than cereal. Alfred is going to be so proud of you.”

A pat to his head and Timmy is off, slinging his towel on the rack, turning on the shower again to make sure it’s nice and hot for all those bruises and contusions.

He’s no-nonsense about picking up his previous mentor and best friend, literally stripping him down and manhandling him in the shower after a low whistle at the span of blue/black across Dick’s chest and ribs, the scrapes across his back and shoulders. 

The first aid kit tackle box makes an appearance because Tim plans for literally everything ever, and Dick finds himself sitting on his sink wearily while his injuries are meticulously treated.

He knows he eats something super tasty with meat and vegetables, his belly full, before Tim pulls him down on the couch and lets Dick lay against his chest, between his legs to sleepily float while watching God-awful B-movies.

It’s the most relaxing weekend he’s had in a while.

**

Dami sneers at Tim, arms crossed over his chest, the expression on his face begging Tim to try to deny it.

The third Robin however, is looking over at Dick with horror that the big secret is finally out in the open.

“Th-that isn’t– it’s not–” Tim fumbles desperately, “he’s been my big brother forever, that’s it!”

“Tt. Grayson may be painfully oblivious, Drake, but the rest of us are detectives. Even Todd knows of your feelings and he rarely even comes to the Manor!”

Tim’s soul literally leaves his body.

Dick blinks, completely taken back, mouth open without anything coming out.

Damian raises his eyes skyward and prays for patients dealing with these two. “What I am saying,” he tries, he really is trying here, “is that you two must cease and desist this pointless–” vague hand wave– “pining for one another. It is getting to the point of absurdity. I demand you two either discuss your need for one another or take this ridiculous mooning elsewhere. The rooftops of Gotham is no place for this,” another hand wave, “utter nonsense.”

Tim’s mouth goes dry, subtly backing away to be closer to the Ducati’s waiting for tonight’s ride. He’s pretty sure he has enough energy left in his shaky knees to hop on one and be the fuck out of the Cave before his face literally bursts into flames.

But, well. Dick was Batman.

His strategic retreat is stomped into the ground by acrobatic leaps and a very well done joint lock to keep him from immediately taking off.

Dami scoffs at them on his way up the winding staircase. He stops Pennyworth on the way and turns the butler to return back into the Manor proper, citing those two needed time to figure themselves out.

**

After several weeks under deep cover, Nightwing wearily hacks into Titan’s Tower and makes his way through the maze of hallways until he hits a hidden panel. 

Tim is sleeping on his desk, only one empty coffee mug at his workstation. Even dead in his boots, Nightwing can take a second just to look, just to sigh, just to enjoy how much every inch of this boy is his.

He journeys down the hall, flips the bed covers up, carries his sleeping partner in and tucks the blankets around him, a quickly there kiss to the top of messy, too-long hair. A shower in Tim’s perch literally makes everything in life a little less awful and exhausting, not enough for him to do much more than crawl in bed against Tim’s warm body and snuggle up close.

He gets breakfast in bed and blue-violet eyes looking at him with fondness rather than awe, gets coffee flavored kisses and a slow-paced back rub that continues down to his thighs and calves and feet. Later, he gets a date night in a nice restaurant and a sweet San Fran club scene for dessert. He gets to let loose and hold Tim’s body against him, to play them both until the gazes are intense and the low key UST between them makes other people on the dance floor give them space.

**

Witty banter is a primary weapon against megalomaniacal bad guys of any flavor. For some former Robins, it’s an art form.

Over the years, they’ve cultivated their dip and distraction to bounce off one another like a well-oiled vigilante machine. 

It should have been a standard take-down because it’s not one of their more dangerous, deadly villains. It’s not one of the Rogue Gallery baddies. It’s not one of the mobster families, not one of the super powered groups come to call. It’s not someone with hordes of thugs and deadly science waiting to take them down.

It’s a simple B&E, just Nightwing talking it up to draw gunfire while Red Robin is creeping up from behind to get the last laugh.

It’s one of a thousand times they’ve done this. 

It’s a guaranteed win.

It’s the last hour of patrol before they get to go back to Red’s penthouse and snuggle together, eat and show, probably have some fantastic sex before passing out.

The .45 shell, however, cuts through the suit, between armored plates. 

Going after the running baddies is automatic, taking them down, zip ties, and viola. They’re ready for GCPD to pick-up, all kinds of gift-wrapped.

When N finally realizes Red isn’t with him, isn’t answering comms, isn’t waiting for him on the roof, he goes back inside. He hits up B for a ride in the big car in case he missed –

– anything.

The pool of blood around Red Robin is more than he can afford to lose, and Nightwing has been in the vigilante life for over twenty years, has been official with Red Robin for a little over two, has personal experience on how his Baby Bird can take a mostly-fatal beating and still keep moving. He’s seen Tim come close with the Clench, with horrifying injuries, with any of the many bad guys they fight holding him hostage.

Nightwing has seen him perform literal miracles.

And tells him so the entire time he’s got Red Robin up in his arms, carrying him through Gotham’s skyline to the waiting car, falling in with Red on his lap when the familiar hatch slides back, the tourniquet already applied before he even shot a grapple. The struggling pulse is enough of a concern to get it together.

And even if they all gather to strip off the suit, and now it’s on to get vitals back to an acceptable range. Even if the Bats cry overhead, even if the equipment is top notch in the Cave, even if Dick is still talking the whole time, and Alfred is keeping a cool head and Bruce is gripping a hand and Damian is standing at the ready to hand implements and Cass is biting her thumbnail while she hovers and Steph is moving from empty space to empty space around the gurney –

The consistent beep of the flatline cuts through it all.

**

The Titans make it for the service. 

Each of them make a point to hug Dick for as long as possible, holding on tightly.

Bruce is silent and stoic, a little boy again when he has to watch someone else he loves being lowered into the cold, unforgiving ground. Another Robin taking a piece of his heart to the afterlife. 

Steph is red-eyed, a ghost moving around to individual circles, listening to stories she might not have known. 

Cass grips the coffin with bruised knuckles, her whole body wound tight as a string ready to snap. She doesn’t move the entire service, is already convinced leaving him to his own devices caused this whole thing. She doesn’t blame the thugs or Dick or Bruce. She blames the boy that never understood how much it all means.

Duke Thomas is back in Gotham, taking leave from the Outsiders to be here for the family that took him in after the Joker drove his parents insane. He hovers in the doorway to welcome mourners, direct them toward the book to sign-in, talks about Tim Drake with regular humans and other metas in disguise, accepts condolences with his throat tight and his eyes watery. He makes sure Dick has a bottle of water after the first hour, pats Damian’s shoulder, grips Bruce’s arm, weaves an arm around Cassandra’s back to give her a squeeze, obediently looks at the old pictures of Tim on Steph’s photo roll when she’s overcome and has to see that smile again.

In the back, Jason Todd wears dark shades and a clean black suit. Roy Harper is beside him, a hand on the broad back to keep him grounded, to keep the Pit rage at bay. If anyone knows how far Tim and Jason had come over the years, it’s the former Red Arrow. If anyone knows how much agony Jason is in at this moment, at another fallen brother, another Robin gone, if anyone had held the Red Hood while he screamed and cried and broke the utter fuck down, it’s Roy Harper.

Damian Wayne hovers right by Grayson’s side, silently supporting his first Batman, his first brother. Whenever Dick’s eyes start going hazy, glazing over, Damian gently grips a wrist to bring him back, allows fingers to lace through his own and tolerates the tight squeeze that obviously assists in grounding the oldest Robin. 

(Later when the night is crowding grief-stricken Wayne Manor, Damian will be the one to open Grayson’s bedroom door, lift the covers to crawl in behind him, to wind both arms tightly. He will be the one to take the onslaught of grief, to be soaked in tears and snot, to listen to the broken, hoarse voice, to make soothing hums that ultimately mean nothing.)

Alfred Pennyworth quietly talks with the funeral director about the arrangements. Of course Master Timothy would want to be laid to rest with his parents, and the family appreciates all the support and ease of process as the deceased was an important part of the Wayne family. 

When he gets a phone call, he firmly verifies the name on the tombstone is Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne Grayson.

**

Exactly four days after the service, the Flash is staring at him helplessly, gripping Nightwing’s arm tight, “please, please, Dick, don’t do this. You can’t think this is the answer!”

He can barely hear Wally with the absolute destruction going on around them, the machine they’d inadvertently stumbled upon (which is a lie, Nightwing had been looking for it and the Flash basically caught him red handed). 

“You know you aren’t going to be able to stop me.” Standing between the glowing portal and Wally, debris from overhead crashing down on them at intervals, Nightwing is at his peak stubborn, “no matter how fast you are.”

“You don’t understand what’s going to happen,” Wally yells desperately as the vacuum starts pulling at Nightwing’s other arm, pulling him into–

–the Speed Force.

“You don’t have the lightning, Dick, you won’t be able to get yourself out, and I won’t have any way of tracking you!”

The small smirk as the machine’s panel starts going haywire, lights blinking and readings off the charts, makes Wally’s heart clench hard in his chest, makes him try to dig in his heels, makes his stomach tremble.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve already done this, Wally. And I’ll do it as many times as it takes until I change everything.”

The pellet Nightwing palmed before the Flash grabbed his hand goes off the same time the machine hits the highest ratings and a low boom is followed up with an intense swirling suction, pulling the heroes closer to the portal’s surface.

The light grenade goes off without a hitch and the Flash has no choice but to let Nightwing go.

**

They’re laughing like assholes as they climb through Timmy’s penthouse windows. 

[imonthinice]

The Criminal Psychology Majors, Jason Todd x Fem!Reader Part 7/?

Word Count: 3.5k

Author’s Note: Y/N - Your Name, A/N Any Name (your best friend’s name), (Name) - your ex’s name !genderneutral (Don’t use a DC character! Y/N hasn’t dated any other DC character!) :)

3.5k words, my god. And they’ve still only known each other for 4 days and we’re on part 7. I do not know how to finish this.

Lol, Enjoy!

Warnings: Swearing, Heated moments, There is French in this one, No beta bitch we die like Jason Todd

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14) (Part 15) (Part 16) (Part 17) (Part 18) (Part 19) (Part 20)

Falling asleep in Jason’s arms after that escapade the two of them pulled the night before was something magical to say the least. Of course, they only got like 5 hours of sleep before they had to wake up and get out, at risk of Y/N being caught in the building, although the thrill of it excited the both of them deeply, but that’s obvious. They liked breaking the rules already.

Riding back home seemed a lot less like a journey to her this time, she just wanted to spend more time with Jason, but he had work and she didn’t want to hang out at Wayne Enterprises. She’d probably go to the library today, she didn’t know exactly what she’d do today, but she always thought that was the most exciting thing ever. “I don’t know what I’m even going to do tomorrow,” one of her friends asked when she moved to Gotham, ‘How exciting!’ she answered.

That friend said the next day she ran through the streets of Metropolis with her arms outstretched like a kid, and she did it in Y/N’s honor. “I told you!” she said, “How exciting that sometimes you never know what you’re going to do tomorrow!”.

These thoughts swirled in her head as Jason drove her back home when, like clockwork, like it was out of a movie, he said,

“I have no idea what I’m even going to do today.”

She laughed, “I always say ‘How exciting!’ when someone says that to me.”

“Really?”

“One of my friends back home, when I gave her that advice, she then spent the next day running around the city with her arms outstretched in my honor, it was apparently one of the more fun things she’s ever done, so” she paused, “I really mean it. how exciting! The possibilities are endless, are they not?”

“Well, not really, I have work to do,” he frowned.

“So own it. Make the office your bitch. Take charge, take lead.”

“Why not?” he said in agreement.

“Why the fuck not.”

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

Jason walked her to her door, “Won’t you be late?” she asked,

“Dad knows where I am, I don’t think I’ll have my ass handed to me.”

“You never know,” she laughed.

He laughed too and slightly pecked her lips. He wanted more, he was hungry for more out of that kiss, but work and life gets in the way of their relationship, and he really whined when he had to break away, but she laughed at it.

“Slow your roll Tiger, one day,” she mused.

“You say that like you don’t want more.”

“This isn’t about me,” she retorted, “So, shut up, respectfully.”

He laughed and kissed the back of her hand, “You have a thing for doing that, huh?” she joked.

“I literally don’t know how to answer that, I think I’m losing my touch with flirting,” he joked back.

“Okay, okay, you need to get going now.”

“Fine! You want to get rid of me so badly, I get it,” he joked and walked back to the car and she waved him off. She hated that time he left, a lot. She knew it was healthy to take a day’s break if they’ve been on 3 back-to-back dates, but that didn’t mean she liked it.

She opened her door and walked in, thinking A/N was asleep so she wouldn’t be barraged for her hair being a mess, but, boy oh boy, was this girl waiting for her to get home.

“What happened? Why’s your hair a mess? Oh my god, did you have sex?” she asked.

“No, but we kissed, will you take that as information while I shower or do you want all the details now?”

“You can shower, you can shower. I’m not that needy.”

“Yes you are,” Y/N joked and went to go shower.

And like she always did, she opened her phone and looked at the news before answering her friends,

Millionaire’s Son, Jason Todd's Girlfriend’s Name Revealed!

She laughed, cause it wasn’t her name. She didn’t think he was seeing anyone else, and they used her picture, so she knew they just fucked it. She forwarded the article to Jason with the caption ‘ Fuckin’ idiots’ .

She then answered Artemis, who asked Did you two kiss? Dick’s up my ass about it ‘cause he knows we’re friends.

I want to take that out of context so badly. She joked with Artemis.

I knew this man had a terrible name that would come to haunt me, but did ‘ya kiss?

Yeah we did. Get Dick out of your ass, though, that’s weird, you have a boyfriend and he has a girlfriend.

Shut up, you’re not funny.

I’m pretty funny.

You are but I’m not going to admit that, girl.

And one of her old friends had texted her, it was someone who Y/N had seen off and on the past few years, they were polite, but she didn’t exactly want to speak to her ex.

Hey.

(Name)? What do you want?

Saw you in the news with the rich boy, guess we’re over?

We have been over for like 5 months, my guy. 

Bitch.

Okay!

People from her hometown were noticing her in the articles and recognizing her. Some would think this is the coolest thing that someone they loved met a nice boy, the money a bonus, some would give her the reaction her ex did, but she knew she was days, hours, maybe minutes away from her parents finding out about her love affair with Jason.  

She shuddered at the thought, she loved her parents, a lot, but something told her that maybe they wouldn’t did Jason to be like she found him. She also knew she could be overthinking it entirely and they’d like the Criminal Psych Major that she knew all-too-well.

But overthinking was fun, apparently. And she couldn’t stop thinking the worst of so much.

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

When she got changed and just threw on whatever the fuck she saw, she went out to go talk to A/N.

“Hey, nerd. I’m done,” Y/N said.

“Nerd? You’re the one dating the bookworm and  you’re in criminal psychology,” she joked.

“Ha, ha. So, how are things with your lover? Have you secured him yet or are you just doing your own thing still?”

“Still just doing our own thing, don’t really have the time to date while getting my degree and working.”

“I mean, if it works for you I can’t throw judgment.”

“What about Jason? How’re things with you two?”

“You ever seen the Wayne Enterprises Ballroom before?”

“In pictures, why- Don’t tell me he took you there you lucky bitch?!”

“Then I just wont tell you,” she laughed.

“The Ballroom? Oh my god, that’s crazy, he's really pulling out all the stops to make you smile, huh?”

“I would do the same if I had more to offer, but I have barely anything since I bought that place in the dance competition across the country,” she said.

Y/N had bought a place in this competition before she met Jason, and she was heading to it on Saturday, in two days, and she actually had practiced the routine during downtime between her and Jason. She hadn’t exactly told Jason about this, and Jason had asked why she looked strained and like her muscles hurt, but that just never seemed like something you share with your casual partner, to her. She never seemed like her casual competitions were worth anything. A/N had begged to differ since Y/N had met her.

A/N said that Y/N had talent, that she could go somewhere, Y/N saw it as an extra circular that didn’t affect her much. She wasn’t the type of brag, and all her trophies were back home with her parents, anyway.

“Have you told him about your,” insert A/N’s heavy sarcasm, “’Casual’  competitions, yet?”

Idk what the hell happened with that line ya love to see it

“I’ll send him a quick text about it, I guess,” she sighed and sent just a quick, Hey, can’t have a date on Saturday-Sunday, forgot to tell you but I’m going to Cali for a quick dance competition, lol. My bad, shoulda said something.

“Why are you like this, be proud of your accomplishments, dammnit!”

“It’s a casual competition!”

“And you’re talented! I’m this close to just showing him videos of you going at it,” she said, exasperated.

“He already knows, we danced in the Ballroom.”

“Oh my lord,” she laughed, “You’re an enigma, if I had your amount of trophies I wouldn’t be hiding it.”

“Im’ not hiding it! It just kind of never came up.”

And he texted back, Oh damn, are you at least going to kill it? You better, I want to show the live broadcast to my family and brag.

She laughed, “See!”, she exclaimed, showing A/N the texts, “He doesn’t care like you do, nerd.”

A/N laughed, “Sure he doesn’t. Do you want to go to lunch, by the way? I’m bored off of my ass.”

“Sure, why the fuck not.”

“Go get dressed then, and I’ll do the same.”

“Okay okay, meet up in 10?”

“Yes ma’am.”

And off they went.

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

Y/N texted back Jason for a quick minute before getting dressed, Of course I’m going to kill it, my notes aren’t a representation of my dancing skills.

Well, I hope you win something. And text me. But mainly win something.

Of course I’ll text you, Jay. It gets boring at competitions.

You should go to a Wayne Gala then, god damn, those fuckin bastards are the most boring events this side of America.

Well maybe you’ll invite me one day.

I’ll probably have to if you show up on National TV. The press will finally know your name.

I hope I’m not on National TV then. Fuck the press.

Fuck the press indeed.

Since Y/N didn’t feel the need or want to dress up, she didn’t. Quick shirt and jeans and she was out the door. Sometimes she would dress up for lunch dates with her friends, just because she was bored as fuck and dressing up was fun, but she just didn’t want to do it today. Combat boots, jeans and a shirt were enough most days. You don’t have to be a model just because the press knows your face, she thought, you don’t.

“Who’s driving?” A/N asked.

“I can if you want. I don’t mind,” Y/N said as they walked to the beat up car they loved so much. It was nothing compared to the Porsche she had been in the night before, but it was still running, and you don’t fix something that ain’t broke.

“Maybe your boyfriend will buy you a new car,” A/N joked.

“If anything, he’d buy me a new computer, since mine is getting mailed to me and you’re going to love hearing the sounds that bitch makes,” she retorted.

“Is it bad?”

“Terrible. My sister called it a screaming electronic goat once,” she laughed, “I hate that fucking thing. But if it ain’t broke-”

“Don’t fix it, I know.”

“Exactly.”

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

For some reason, they decided in the car to go to McDonald's, because hey, it’s not like Y/N is on a  dance diet or anything. She wasn’t, because she didn’t want to starve herself for the sake of winning a competition. That was even her thought process as she was younger and more vulnerable to her teachers, she always told them she’d never do that. Years later, she still stuck to that mindset.

They got out of the car and like fucking clockwork, the press was in her face.

“You! The girl with no name, Jason Todd’s girlfriend!”

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!” she whispered under her breath, “How do they always find me!”

“Tell us about yourself! Are you serious with Jason? How do you feel about his family? How-”

But then she had an idea,

“Quoi? Je parle pas l’Anglais? Qu’est-ce-que vous voulez?” she said, using her bilingual skills to her advantage.

“What? No I mean-”

“Pas de l’Anglais! Désolé mes amis!” and she ran off into the McDonald's with A/N.

“Did you just speak French to get them off your ass, you genius?”

“Spoke very broken French because I wasn’t thinking, but yeah, I did that.”

“I forget you’re multi-talented sometimes, you have a lot hidden under your belt and I try to treat you like a normal person but you’re far from it.”

“I appreciate you for trying, but I think with my new love affair, you aren’t going to get far with those attempts anymore, sorry,” she joked.

Jason texted her, Did you just speak French to avoid the press?

How do you know about that?

We were watching the news during a meeting and they said that you spoke French.

You got to do what you got to do to get by.

That is literally the most genius thing I’ve heard of anyone doing in so long. I think you’ve truly bamboozled them for a while and they might hop off of your back for a while.

You think so? ‘Cause I really hope that’s the case.

My siblings think it’s hilarious, and no one’s leaked that you are just joking with the press, so yeah, they might actually leave you alone.

Let’s fucking go. That is the news of the 21st century.

4 days of knowing each other and you’ve flipped off the press twice, outran them with me once, hid in the Wayne Enterprises Building with me and you’ve spoken French to bamboozle the press. That is impressive.

I feel like the press is going to hate me one day.

Probably. But they also hate most of us most days.

You should probably get back to work.

Yeah, talk to you soon.

She put her phone away and went to stand with A/N, who was waiting for their food.

“Talking to your lover?” she joked.

“When am I not doing that?”

“That’s valid.”

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

Going on a lunch date with A/N made a little bit of the harassment just better. They both bonded over how they hated the press before her love affair with Jason, and how their opinions wouldn’t change much unless, knock on wood, one of them went missing. Y/N told her about all the cases where the press and the internet did so much to solve cases around the world, love or hate the press, they did do a lot for solving crime.

She also told A/N that Jason was related to Dr. Barry Allen and Clark Kent, two people the two of them knew well because of the news and the fact that A/N knew Y/N when she wanted to go into forensics and was reading Dr. Barry Allen’s work.

When her mother texted her.

Y/N? Is that you in the press running around with Jason Todd?

Yeah mum, why?

Are you two in a serious relationship?

No mum.

Then why are the vultures so obsessed with you, says your dad.

‘ Cause you two made a pretty girl and he’s high up in the world, I guess, I don’t know. I don’t really like the press.

I can tell. We’re not mad at you honey, but be careful. And your dad says when you two get serious he needs to take Jason fishing.

He doesn’t speak French, mum.

Dad says he’ll work on his English for you.

Well tell everyone I love them, mum.

She panicked a little bit, her parents were nice when they wanted to be, but they were strict, why wouldn’t they be. So this, while being a welcomed surprise. was still a little panicky.

“Your  parents find out?”

“Yeah, they seem chill with it though.”

“Bing in the press sucks when you’re trying to keep your love life out of your parents' eyes, huh?”

“You could say that again,” she joked.

“Being in the press sucks when you’re-”

“I didn’t mean literally!” they laughed.

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

Back at Wayne Enterprises, Jason was betting bombarded by his colleges, friends and family about Y/N and how she was able to get around the press’ constant harassment without flaw. And also because Bruce had seen the two enter the building at around 12am the night before. So Jason was called into Bruce’s office that day.

“1, I know everyone is bombarding you, so you can hide out here, son, 2, you and Y/N didn’t have sex in your office right?”

“God no, dad. We just hid here because security is tight as fuck and unable to get past.”

“I saw you two kissing on the cams and heading into your office, Jay.”

“Okay, okay, but we didn't have sex and the intentions were there, dad!”

“Uh huh, pretty girl in your, my, car.”

“Dad, stop it,” he joked.

“Well, her little shenanigans with the press are very amusing, have you told her that?”

“I have.”

“She’s basically not afraid to tell them what we all think.”

“That’s what I said, dad.”

“Well, hold onto that one and don’t let her go.”

“Do you regret doing that with Talia?” Jason asked.

“God no, she’s insane. The son I got out of her antics is literally her spitting image, so if I need to be reminded of her I can just go talk to Damien for a couple minutes.”

“Dami’s a lot like you too, don’t act like his personality is just Talia, he acts like his dad in every aspect and you know that.”

“Lord help any woman or man that kid goes on to date, my god,” the two of them laughed. It was the small things with Bruce that made Jason happy to be a Wayne, even if he didn’t share the last name. Jason grew up on the streets and even before that, his mum and dad didn’t have a lot of money, so the amounts of money that Bruce could shower on him was a lot, but he was okay with just working for his money. And Bruce knew that.

He spent a lot of his workday in Bruce’s office, hiding from the rest of the office, and texting Will.

She knows about your kid.

Well, she’s a good kid. I’m glad you’re bragging about her, means I raised her right.

Shut up. I love that little girl and I’ve helped raise her, Will.

You’re used to my new name?

I changed your contact to Will when you changed your name, so I could remember that that’s your name now and not Roy. I’m hoping I remember it in person though. It would be awkward if I forgot my best friend’s name.

It would be funny to look back on, though.

Like how your relationship with Jade is funny now?

Never stick your dick in crazy.

I wish you would have listened to that sometimes, but then I remember Lian is amazing.

I’m a cliché of dumb choices, what can I say Jaybird.

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

In Y/N’s house, she would always play loud and sad music when she had the chance, some people thought her mental state was fucked, which sometimes it was, but most of the time the sad music went harder than the happy tunes you would catch from the other side of the house.

But even if music was blasting the loudest it could ever be, somehow she would still find herself lost in her thoughts, whether it was new dance routines or a story she would scribble down in her dream journal. there was something about those little fits of artistic passion she would experience from time-to-time.

It’s hard to put into words how those moments reminded her of the simplier times before sh was thrust into stardom, but also how they reminded her of Jason, and untouched mind she longed to know further. She knew there was so much more to the boy she had gone on dates with.

She would end up ignoring her phone for most of the rest of that day, just because she wanted peace and quiet, when A/N’s lover came over and she had to turn the music up louder so she wouldn’t be disrupted by the obvious.

I just got off of work, how are you? How’s your day been? Jason had texted Y/N while she ws turning up the music.

Well, I just had to turn up my music because my roommate’s lover is over, but other than that I’ve been enjoying peace and quiet in my room, waiting for something to do.

Is texting me something to do?

Yes.

That’s sweet of you. Work was boring though so I hope you don’t expect a story.

I don’t, don’t worry. You don’t always need a story for something to do.

Well, I’m going home with my brothers and dad, and we’re probably going to play office chair racing because I’m a bad boy.

You’re a bad boy?

Was that not funny?

It was pretty funny, isn’t that dangerous though?

Yeah actually, my brother broke his leg playing it and another time my little sister broke her leg playing it.

It seems fun but like, damn, two people have gotten injured playing that game, y’know.

Well if I die it’ll be a fun story!

[starfirette]

Ok but Helena Bertinelli x fem!reader where Helena takes all her pent up anger out on reader thru sex and she just tops the FUCK out of R and it’s super hot and R lowkey loves when Helena gets angry when it leads to steamy sex👀 oof I need a MINUUUTE😫

a/n: this is very smutty. it is more emotionally angry, and y/n more takes her anger out on helena, BUT i think it's good. .......i think?? | 18+

masterlist | more helena | inbox | ships + requests open

Every single piece of furniture was toppled over.

The fine china that you’d once had shelved on display littered the floor in ground little pieces.

It was a shocking scene to say the least, especially when you were expecting to walk through the door and take an instant nap.

After being in Moscow for the week, both you and Helena had been looking forward to coming back to the shared Alaska home high up in the mountains.

As you stared around in a state of shock, Helena pulled you by the waist. It was as though she wanted to shield you from the destruction that laid before your eyes.

You weren’t naive. At least, not too naive. You could recognize what was going on.

The last time something similar happened was three years ago. At that time, you and Helena had recently been married. It was the threats and destruction that followed Helena which caused her to leave Gotham with you in tow. Together, you traveled halfway across the across the country, in search for a haven that would protect you from Helena’s enemies.

But they’d found you. Again.

“Get your coat,” Helena instructed as she pushed you towards the foyer. 

“But-”

“Get your coat, now, Y/n,” she snapped again, not bothering to look at you. 

You felt oddly embarrassed by the way your wife had spoken to you. You mustered a submissive nod as you hurried to pull on the coat you’d just taken off.

Helena’s angry, Italian cursing bounced off the walls as she turned through the house, her shoes crunching over glass. She spoke with someone in the phone. Her words were fast and icy. She rarely spoke in Italian, but you’d been with her long enough to learn some of the lingo.  She spoke about a safe house and about a rabbit--

Maybe rabbit wasn’t the right word. 

But you’re positive it’s something about a safehouse. 

You waited in the foyer, shivering in the heavy coat you wore despite the warmth it was generating. 

Helena came rushing to you after her phone conversation ended. “We’re getting back in the car,” she instructed you, using her hands to physically turn you back to face the door. 

“Wait, what’s going on?” you asked, feeling dumb as she snatched a random sweater from the coat closet. 

“We’ve been found, so we’re leaving,” Helena said again, slowing her words as if she was trying to dumb it down for you. She put her arm around your waist, ushering you out of the house and carefully down the snowy pathway that led to your driveway. The fresh powdered snow had two sets of footprints, your own and Helena’s. You didn’t see any others, nothing that would have alerted you to thinking someone had broken in. 

Your face burned with warmth as Helena buckle you into the passenger seat. You don’t like being babied by her. You were tempted to bitch about the way she was treating you, but you knew better. At least, right now. You try to remember she’s in a panic, and she’s running on auto pilot. 

The car raced down the long driveway that wrapped in a spiral down the mini mountain. 

Your heart thumped in your throat as she sped away from the house. You clutched into your seatbelt, letting it dig into your palms. “Slow down,” you finally blurted out.

Helena grunted in response. Her foot reluctantly pumped the break.  

You know she doesn’t like to be told to slow down, or to relax, or to be safe. Even so, Helena knows you don’t like when she drives to fast, or goes into a rage, or puts her safety on the line. 

The drive was silent as she expertly navigated some snowy backroads. You wanted to talk to her, maybe even distract her from whatever was boiling in her brain. She didn’t explain what was happening. You were left to your own devices. You could only assume she was taking you to one of her safe checkpoints in Cordova. That had been ingrained into to your mind; Cordova is safe. If anything happens, go to Cordova and call someone, whether it be Harley or one of Helena’s contacts in Italy.

You slumped down your seat, shifting all of your body to lean against your door, your head against the window. "I love you," you muttered.

Helena didn't say anything.

The underground house in Cordova spans 500 square feet. It's nothing fancy. It's more of a basic studio flat than a house, really, with a very well structured lay out. The kitchen consisted of a two burner stove and an old fashioned ice box. On that same note, the given bedroom was really just a queen size mattress on the floor, shoved in a corner against the north eastern wall. It had a pile of new pillows, still wrapped in their Macy's store liners.

You dropped your coat on the little coffee table in the dead center of the room. It faced an outdated, but thorough, television set, with a boxy TV and VHS player. Stacks of worn VHS tapes and magazines were laced neatly on the little coffee table, alongside the clunky television remote.

A single door was on the western wall, and you assumed it led to the bathroom.

You pried off your shoes as Helena closed the heavy vault door, turning all of the metal spires so the locks clicked, leaving only you and her within the room.

It was a heavy silence for a couple minutes. Helena didn't do anything but stand, staring intensely at the vaulted door, as if it was responsible for destroying your mountain top mansion.

You curled into the bed. The quilts had the consistency of hotel blankets, thin and flimsy, allowing all the cold air to pass through the threads.

The side of the bed sank when Helena sat down, her long legs bent at the knees awkwardly. Her hand placed softly on your back, which was huddled in the corner of the bed, pulled over with the quilts.

"Are you okay?" Helena asked. Her voice was hard. She sounded as if she were in a great deal of pain.

You rolled over. You faced your own wall, turning your back on her. When you did not answer, Helena asked again. "Don't ignore me," she snapped.

You jerked upright.

Helena looked momentarily surprised, as if she'd watched a corpse rise from his grave. You stared at her with wide, angry eyes.

"Don’t even start,” you snapped, holding up a finger to stop whatever words Helena was about to start blabbering out.

"You're not allowed to speak to me any way you want, any time you want," you added with a jab of your finger. You scrambled to leave the bed, tripping over the bedding as you clumsily plunged out of her reach.

"I understand that you're stressed," you said, trying to control the volume at which you spoke. "But you always take it out on me. You always make me feel like the world's going to end."

Helena pinched her nose, bending so her elbows rested on her knees. She looked stressed, just so stressed, just about as stressed as you were feeling, but maybe less angry and shaky. "This is serious, Y/n," she said slowly, as if she didn't think you would have understood her otherwise.

"Even so, we have to keep our wits about us. We have to keep our relationship steady, otherwise we're just going to fall apart and fail. This relationship will not last. It will not last. We are always going to be chased by these troubles, by your enemies. I think I could handle it if we didn't get into massive fucking fights every time it happened. It feels like I'm a kid again, watching my parents go back and forth, staying together 'for us kids', when it's pretty clear that divorce would just be better for all of us."

Helena by now had released her face. She had a blank expression as she stared at you.

"I'm sorry," she finally said.

You couldn't muster much energy, so you shrugged and collapsed on the little sofa. "I don't care anymore," you muttered. "I just want water. I want to sleep."

Helena ran to your side. She knelt at your feet, quite literally on her hands and knees for you. She braced her hands on your thighs. "How can I make it up to you?"

You stared down at her, unsure of what to say.

"I cannot lose you," she said next. "There wouldn't be a reason to have such safehouses like this if I lost you."

"I cannot handle these fights anymore. It's too much."

"What can I do?"

"I just want to sleep," you sighed. "I'd rather just...listen to the television."

Helena led you to the bed, straightening out the mess you'd made when you'd trampled out of it. You shimmied out of your pants, throwing them out so you could sleep comfortably.

"Please just talk to me," Helena begged as she laid behind you. She wrapped her arms around you tenderly, your back pressed against her chest. "I'm just tired, Helena," you sighed as you let your eyes fall shut.

Helena dragged her hand up the stomach of your shirt, her calloused palm tucking close against your belly.

"I'm tired," you whispered.

Her fingers slipped beneath the band of your underwear. Her palm cupped your warmth, her lips pressing soothing kisses behind your ear.

She did not tease that night. She swept two finger tips into the opening of your hot, twitchy cunt, swiping drops of arousal and then spreading it around your clit. The lubricant beneath her fingertips made the sensation slippery and slick. You slowly gasped at the feeling. The sensation got you to slip out of your body for a split second, as if you could see the scene playing out in front of you. Your hips were grinding fast and hard into Helena's hand.

You snatched her wrist and pushed her hand down. "Inside," you snapped. "If you're really sorry, then inside."

"As you wish," Helena murmured. Her three fingers pushed up and in, stretching the velvety walls of your cunt out. You wanted to scream. Her fingers curled and reached up at the spongey spot way inside of you, like the brightest star in all the galaxy.

"Shit!" you cried. You lurched your head back, your hair scrunching up into Helena's face and nose. She didn't seem to care as she slowly pumped in and out, always making sure to press up at your starpoint.

"Never again," you cried as you gripped at Helena's forearm. You used this as an anchor point to keep you grounded while you wiggled your hips into Helena's hand. "You're never again going to treat me this way. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Dove, yes," Helena assured you in a soothing voice. "You're such a good bird for me," she sighed, her cool breath tickling your ear. "And you deserve good things. You deserve to cum all over my hand."

Yes, an internal voice shrieked within you. You thought another version of yourself would punch through your chest and take over, take over everything.

Your entire existence rolled up into nothing but pure light as you felt your high coming on quickly. You knew you were cumming, and Helena did too, for she used her other hand to simultaneously stimulate your clit.

The pressure released, like a balloon snapping in your belly.

You were breathing heavily as you sank into Helena's arms. You hadn't realized how tense you'd been until all of your muscles relaxed.

"I'm sorry, Dove," Helena murmured into your ear. She held you tight and close. Her natural perfume, a blend of rosewater and fresh flowers, flooded your senses. With your energy dwindling after such an exertion, you didn't have the strength to argue or complain. You laid there, silently accepting her apology. No longer were you distracted by the wanton desires for orgasm and relief. And in the same way, you were no longer consumed with bitter anger.

"Do you promise we're going to be alright?" you asked, voice cracking and hoarse.

Helena kissed your neck.

"I do."

[biromanticbooknook]

My Most Ambitious Crossover

I got bored by posting only my second gen Amazon AU, so I’ll get back to that tomorrow, but enjoy this one-shot about Chloe and Marinette creating their own trip instead of their class trip in the meantime. Can’t have you all thinking I’m a one-trick pony, can I?

“-and that’s why we think you shouldn’t go on the trip this year.” Mlle. Bustier tried to look apologetic, but it was as much her idea as the students. Between Marinette refusing to set an example and Chloe associating with her, neither of them deserved to go.

“Oh, thank goodness. I was afraid I would have to get my daddy to donate 30% of the funds like he does every year.”

“I’m just glad I don’t have to take 60% of the trip funds out of my commission profits. That will give me a much bigger budget for fabric and accessories.” Everyone blanched at the statements of the 2 girls. They were saying that they paid for 90% of the trip every year, but that couldn’t be right. They worked so hard on fundraisers every year, they must be lying about how much they contribute.

Marinette just ignored them, turning to her seatmate. “Do you think that our other friends would want to go on a trip with us? Most classes take their trips during May, so we could leave at the beginning of June and take the entire summer.”

“Nice thinking, Maribug. With fewer people, prices go down and we can afford more bang for our buck.” They walk out of the classroom, discussing who to ask and when.

The class just made a big mistake.

-----

By the time the weekend rolled around, Marinette and Chloe had their group list finalized. The people going on their trip were themselves, Luka, Kagami, Aurore, Mireille, and Marc. They got together and started brainstorming fundraisers.

Marinette started. “There are the given examples; you know, car wash, bake sale, raffle. What else?”

“We could host a show.” Luka suggested.

“Like an exhibition?” Marinette asked. “We could have you perform, Kagami do a fencing demonstration, and I could do a small fashion show, using Chloe and Marc as models. Aurore and Mireille could be our MCs.”

“To capitalize on money-making, we could sell tickets, food and drink, and merch for Luka’s solo career as well as commission spots for our resident designer.”

“That’s good.” Marinette starts scribbling in the shared notebook.

“At Le Grande Paris, we could host parties. I know days when the grand ballroom is open. We could host an auction, sell lessons and creations and stuff. We could also host a masquerade ball that we sell tickets for. We could charge for food and drink. The pools are open for private reservation quite often, we could have parties there too.” Chloe takes the notebook and starts writing down her ideas, mapping out all the resources needed while muttering.

“We could also host a carnival or a gaming tournament in the ballroom.” Kagami looked thoughtful. “I’ve never actually been to one.”

Chloe added that to the list. “Should we do anything else?”

“We could start a go-fund-me. Artists and writers do it all the time to get their creations off the ground.” Marc murmured.

“That would be great. What’s our goal for this entire endeavor?”

“Our goal, Maribug, is €45,000. That should cover travel, boarding, tours, food, and souvenirs. Whatever we don’t spend gets redistributed to the group.” Chloe supplies.

“Then that should be it. Nice job, guys!”

“My, what a whirlwind of a planning session. I hope nothing rains on our parade. I wonder weather Mlle. Bustier’s class is doing this well.” Aurore beams at them.

“Mm-hmm.” Mireille agrees with Aurore.

“Probably not. Our classmates couldn’t pour water out of a boot with instructions on the heel. They’ll just listen to Lila that the boot will empty by itself through the toe because ‘I worked on patenting this boot’, then they’ll get mad at the boot for not doing it.” Chloe chuckles dryly.

“Be nice.” Marinette reprimands half-heartedly.

-----

Chloe immediately filed the paperwork with the school board so they could go on their trip with no safety or legal concerns. She recruited Mme. Mendeleiev and M. D'Argencourt to be their chaperones, who were more than happy to go on an all-expenses-paid trip to Los Angeles, Star City, Central City, Metropolis, Gotham, New York City, and Tokyo.

They had their first fundraiser at the end of September, a pool party at Le Grande Paris. Even Mlle. Bustier’s class attended, though they didn’t know who had set it up, only that Luka was performing. They hadn’t even started their planning  yet. The group made €3,041.

The next was a car wash in the middle of October. It was cool enough for a car wash to be pleasant while being warm enough that everyone was still out and about. They earned €2,632. Bustier's class was getting ice cream and listening to Lila brag.

They then had an All Hallow’s Eve bake sale, complete with candy decoration reminiscent of the American holiday. They earned €1,800.

During November, they held a carnival, with a full fall theme. It was wildly popular with families from all over Paris, earning them €6,483. It was around this time that Mlle. Bustier’s class held a bake sale, and earned €1,594. They celebrated.

Throughout the holiday season, they took advantage of peoples’ spirit. They held a raffle throughout the 12 Days of Christmas, while also holding a bake sale the day before winter break. Overall, they earned €10,749.

Over winter break, Chloe bought plane tickets and reserved tours and hotels, so all that was left was to get money for the tours and food. They were over halfway to their goal.

During January, they rented a theater, and held their exhibition. They had a crowd of fencing enthusiasts, rock music lovers, and fashion followers. They made €5,830.

They held a date auction and a masquerade to celebrate Valentine’s Day. It was amazing, and they earned €7,284.

They had checked their go-fund-me, and had found that €10,000 was there, putting them €2,819 over their goal. They were ecstatic!

They still held the gaming tournament at the end of April, but let it be free for everyone to enjoy as their celebration of reaching their goal.

-----

Mlle. Butsier’s class had made €7,000 over their 3 fundraisers, and they were pretty proud of themselves. No doubt they would be going somewhere much better than whatever Maribrat and Chloe have planned. Once the girls walked into the classroom, the class started to brag.

“We’ve finished fundraising!”

Marinette smiled and decided to be nice to them. “Cool. Where are you going?”

“We are going to New York City.”

Chloe was not as kind. “Oh, so are we! It was so hard to raise the €45,000 needed for our trip, but we did it. It was so euphoric to meet our goal. How much did you guys raise?”

“We made €7,000.” The smiles slowly slipped off the faces of the class. “What do you mean the €45,000 needed?”

“Well, we needed to cover food, travel, boarding, and tours, and that was just for the 7 of us. I can’t imagine what the budget would’ve been like for an entire class.” Her smile got an edge, like a lioness who knew she had cornered her prey.

Her classmates blanched. “What was our budget, Alya?” Rose looked towards their new class representative, hoping that she had an answer.

“We never had one.”

“Well, at least you filed the paperwork right?”

“What paperwork?”

Marinette responded this time. “The paperwork needed to go on a trip. You were supposed to submit it to the school board for approval of safety and legality. It was on page 17 of the packet I gave you at the beginning of the year. Didn’t you read it, Alya?”

“I-I-no. Lila said that was just extra work that you had given me to throw me off my game. She said you didn’t actually need to do all of that.”

“I didn’t know that Lila had more experience being a class representative than me and Marinette, the only 2 people who have ever been class representative here.” Chloe’s voice became as sharp and sweet as her smile. “Well, have fun with your trip. Marinette and I have to do last-minute checks on our arrangements.”

The class looked at the people that had carried them the previous years, and realized how much they relied on the girls. Lila was cursing herself for pushing away the only people who actually did anything in this class.

-----

The class ended up going to Disneyland Paris, and tried their best to look as upbeat as possible on their social medias. Meanwhile, The group was having the time of their lives.

They stayed in LA for 2 weeks, visiting movie sets and meeting actors. They spent another week just going on everything at Disneyland and California Adventure.

They then spent a week in Star City, touring Queen Industries and having a meet and greet with Oliver Queen and his ward, Roy Harper, who seemed to enjoy Aurore’s outgoing personality. They even saw the vigilantes.

They spent another 2 weeks in Central City, touring STAR Labs and watching the rogues try to fight the Flash family. It was the most meta-filled city in the world, and They toured a forensics lab with Bart Allen. Chloe seemed grimly pleased with seeing the bodies. She might’ve been projecting certain people onto them, not that she would ever admit it.

2 weeks in Metropolis was really fun. They toured the Daily Planet with Clark Kent and Lois Lane. Mireille was amazed by what you could do to report without having to be in front of a screen. They made a scavenger hunt of how many Supers they could find, and they found 2 different superboys. Lex Corp also gave them a tour, although it was more professional than the tour of the Daily Planet.

They spent 1 week in Gotham. They toured Wayne Enterprises and stayed out of the Bats’ way. Luka got the phone number of Tim Drake. Marinette enjoyed the inspiration that the gothic architecture brought her. There wasn’t much of a nightlife scene, considering only fools stay out after dark in Gotham.

Their 1 week in New York City was hectic. The Avengers were all at the tower when they were touring with Pepper Potts by Chloe’s request. Chloe might’ve been unofficially adopted by Tony Stark when she stood up to them and made them ‘cease their bullshit’. The Black Widow also took a liking to the girl. They also ran into these weird teens muttering about monsters when they were waiting for the elevator at the Empire State Building.

2 weeks in Tokyo. Their last stop. They visited the prestigious Ouran Academy, the host club getting Marc to come out of their shell by constantly helping boost his self-esteem. Chloe enjoyed talking business and finances with Kyoya Ootori. Kagami led them all in a traditional tea ceremony, before they all stormed the streets to try the unfamiliar street food.

Marinette ended up being unofficially adopted by 3 heroes, 2 rogues, and 5 billionaires. She was happy getting to spend 7 weeks on the road with only her closest friends.

The class was incredibly jealous of the trip their classmates took. They hoped next year they could go on a trip like that as well, but they had missed their shot.

[flyingkiki]

A Very Merry Christmas (2/4)

Full steam ahead! I'm back for more steamy TimRae content! Enjoy, my loves.

Chapter One is HERE. A Very Merry Christmas, Chapter 1.

~~

“Good morning.”

Raven tensed and immediately looked over her shoulder to see Bruce, dressed in pajamas, appear under the arch of the living room’ doorway. She blinked, surprised at how she was not able to catch his aura or emotions – but then again, that would be Batman for you. It stunned her at times how she could oftentimes read nothing from the man. She watched him walk into the room, his movements not making a sound.

“Good morning,” she replied, offering a small smile before involuntarily folding her arms across her chest. Tim’s soft sweater offering some comfort. “You’re up early.”

The corner of Bruce’s lips quirked just a little bit in response. “I’m usually up at this time to prepare for work and start the day,” he replied.

Raven hummed lowly in agreement and returned to staring out the window. It was still dark outside; sunlight would be in another couple of hours thanks to winter. The garden lamps outside illuminated the snowy garden beautifully and Raven had spent the last few minutes just staring blankly out the window and watching illuminated snowflakes drift from the sky.

“Tim’s practically the same. Though he usually stays up until dawn for work and catches whatever little sleep he can. It’s horrible,” Raven said, a fond smile playing on her lips at the memory of Tim hunched over a laptop in his bedroom back in Gotham. “Though he usually gets into bed with a few threats,”

Bruce sighed. “He works himself to the bone.”

“He does.” Raven agreed.

A heavy silence fell over them as Bruce and Raven continued to stare out the window. Raven shifted, pressing her arms just a little tighter to her chest as her discomfort grew. Perhaps it would have been best to have just stayed in bed with Tim. She shot Bruce a quick glance before watching a few snowflakes disappear into a rosebush.

“Thank you for taking care of him,”

Raven starts, looking up at the sudden confession. She blinked, feeling the faint whispers of emotions from Bruce. Her fingers curled into Tim’s sweater as she mulls over Bruce’s words. Raven tilted her head just a little bit and released a soft breath. “He’s been taking care of me too,” she replied, silently recalling her own personal struggles recently.

“We all went through some difficult times,” Bruce said, his voice low in the quiet of the room. Raven held her breath, watching as a few emotions flickered across his face. “Tim more so. I – I,” Bruce blinked and paused, visibly struggling with words. Inhaling softly, Bruce absently tapped the mug he was holding. “I have many regrets.”

Raven felt her stomach twist and she watched Bruce swallow. “You’re trying now,” she said after finding her voice. “Tim knows that. He’s trying too,”

Bruce stared out the window, seemingly lost in thought. Raven saw a broken expression flicker in his eyes briefly, before turning to Raven and offering a small smile. “I love my children though I’m terrible at showing it,” He told her. He inhaled softly and released a rueful chuckle. “I’d never imagine parenting to be this difficult,”

Raven tilted her head and smiled. “It doesn’t come with a user manual, does it?” Bruce returned the smile. Her lips quired at a thought. “Though I’d doubt you’d be type to read the manual.” A fond expression crossed her face and a smile played on her lips as she turned back to the window. “I’d think Tim would though.”

Bruce chuckled and nodded his head. He returned to watching the snow too. “That’s right.”

Raven dropped her hands from around her, tension leaving her. It was still pretty early, perhaps it would be good to return to bed briefly before everyone woke up. Bruce may like some time alone, after this rather strange heart-to-heart encounter. “I –”

“I’m sorry,”

Raven paused and stared wide eyed at Bruce. She held her breath, starting up at the older man expectantly. “Bruce,” she whispered. A swarm of mixed emotions blossomed in her chest and she watched as Bruce looked at her with a rare, apologetic look.

“13 years ago, we made a terrible mistake. We allowed our prejudices cloud our judgement and refused to help a 13-year-old girl asking for our help,” Bruce stared at Raven, for a moment seeing that distraught young girl. He paused and watched Raven’s surprised reaction. “We are an institution that is supposed to help. But we failed you. I have seen your work and the Titans you have built over the years, I’d like to think you’ve become a hero far greater than most of us. I deeply regret our decision – my decision – on that day. I know that trust is hard to build but, I’m sorry for what happened on that night. I hope you can forgive me for my mistakes,”

Raven inhaled softly and for a brief second she remembered that night at the Watch Tower and the silence she received from the Justice League. She remembered Batman and his empty emotions, and she looked up at the same man now and felt his emotions, regret, tickle her own. It took her aback. “Bruce,” she whispered. She blinked, pulling herself out of the memory. “I—thank you,” she whispered. She gave him a rueful smile. “You were being a parent, protecting his home,”

Bruce swallowed, an emotion flickering in his eyes. His lips quirked into a rueful smile of his own. “I’m a parent now trying to correct and learn from my mistakes,”

~

“I’m kinda hurt you didn’t tell me,” Dick shot Raven a playful smile over the kitchen counter as they helped Alfred prepare breakfast later that morning.

Raven rolled her eyes and transferred some fresh pancakes on a plate. “You didn’t tell us you and Star were dating. Just taking notes,” she shot back.

Dick snagged a strawberry from the plate she prepared, much to her annoyance. “Told you a week after,”

“Well, you know now.” Raven replied and pushed the plate of finished pancakes towards Dick. She raised an eyebrow as he eyed the pancakes skeptically. “Alfred made them,” she said. She had been delegated to plating duty after confessing to Alfred that she wasn’t very much useful in the kitchen outside from making tea and toast. Tim had been trying to teach her to cook, but what little time they had together was not spent in the kitchen, admittedly (more like the kitchen floor, but that wasn’t something she would openly admit to Tim’s family). Alfred had promised her to teach her to make Tim’s favorite cookies later though. She hoped they’d be passable.

Dick took another strawberry from the plate. “Yeah. Over a year late,”

They heard Alfred putter in the background, finishing up a final batch of pancakes. Raven dutifully waited by the counter for the final few pancakes for her to plate. “To be fair, nobody really knew.”

Dick propped his elbow on the counter and dropped his chin into his hand as he eyed her. His face contorted. “I feel bad that you felt like you had to keep it a secret,” he told her.

Raven shrugged her shoulders dismissively. She absently rolled a blueberry between her fingers. “Don’t be. We just wanted privacy,” she smiled. “It was nice keeping this just for us,”

“Something as precious as love is always best kept close,” Alfred offered Raven a pleasant smile as he placed a final stack of pancakes in front of her ready for plating. Raven returned the smile, the warm emotions of Alfred tickling her own.

Raven hummed in agreement and the three shared amused smiles. “Besides,” continued Raven and started distributing pancakes onto different plates. “I honestly did not want Gar or Jinx annoy the crap out of me with all their teasing.”

Dick made an agreeing sound in the back of his throat. “I’m still surprised nobody caught on.”

The corners of Raven’s lips quirked just a little bit. “I think Cyborg got suspicious at one point. He caught me once when I was not in the Tower. I leave my comms with the tracker in my room when I go out,” at the look of Dick’s disapproving face, she rolled her eyes. “And take my untraceable comms with me, every time. My tracker said I was at the tower but I wasn’t in my room. Cy got a suspicious. Told him I had to return a book. We were actually in New York,”

Dick raised his eyebrow. “New York?”

“Broadway.” Raven smirked. “Hamilton.”

Dick rolled his eyes at her smirk. “Cyborg’s going to blow a fuse.”

Raven chuckled and nudged all plates into his direction, ready for serving to the rest of the Batfamily. “To be honest, I’m kind of disappointed none of you caught on.”

Tim took this time to shuffle into the kitchen, still in his pajamas and looking disheveled and sleepy. “Terrible detective skills if you ask me,” he yawned and shot Dick a sleepy grin. Dick retaliated by quickly giving his younger brother the finger just as Alfred turned his back on them. Tim maturely returned the finger while crowding into Raven’s space and throwing an arm around her waist.

“Morning,” Tim offered Raven a sleepy smile and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I was wondering where you went.”

“Couldn’t sleep anymore,” Raven shrugged and smiled. She handed Tim one of the plates with pancakes and blueberries.

Jason made a face as he entered the kitchen for his plate of pancakes. “Please don’t talk about your sex lives this early in the morning. We do not want to know what kept you up all night,” he shot Tim an annoyed look.

Dick looked scandalized and shot Jason a dark glare. “Jason!” The last thing he wanted to hear was that his little brother and one of his best friends were having sex. Dick felt a little sick.

Jason lazily leaned over the kitchen counter and pointedly stared at Dick with a bland expression. “Don’t say you didn’t too!”

“You are terrible,” Tim frowned and made a grab for the coffee pot.

Jason pointed a finger at Tim and offered him a wink. “I know it,”

Raven rolled her eyes and shoved a plate of pancakes for Jason to take. She watched him grudgingly take the stack and her lips quirked just a little bit. Despite the storm of emotions Jason usually carried with him, she could feel the light banter behind his words.

“Let’s have breakfast, shall we?” Alfred appeared at the foot of the kitchen island carrying a tray of coffee and hot chocolate. “I am sure Master Bruce and Master Damian are already waiting and hungry,”

They all nodded in agreement and shuffled around the kitchen island, picking up plates of pancakes and trays of fruits. Tim nudged Raven gently and they exchanged small smiles. “All good?” he asked her as they followed the rest of the group towards the dining area.

Raven hummed softly and nodded. She felt Tim’s gentle brush of concern and she nodded. Recalling the early morning conversation with Bruce, she realized what tension was left in her shoulders had disappeared. Offering Tim a smile, she juggled the plates of pancakes in her hands and nudged her concerned boyfriend with her shoulder again. “All good,” she replied softly only for them to hear. Entering the dining area, they joined the rest of the Batfamily at the table, depositing stacks of pancakes in front of everyone. Raven caught Bruce’s eye as she settled down next to Tim. The older man offered a small smile and nodded in her direction. Returning Bruce’s smile, Raven allowed herself to slowly let go of her worries of the past. All was good.

~

“And this is still Wayne property?” Raven asked, her voice carrying through the cold winter air. She surveyed the frozen forest, appreciating the sight of a pure white landscape. They were a good distance from the house, walking past a frozen lake and over a snowy hill.

After two days of just staying indoors, baking (and taking out fires that came with it), board games, and movies, Tim had decided they both needed a break from the rest of the group. While he loved his family and it warmed his heart to see Raven slowly take to the rest of the Batfamily, they both needed some much-needed alone time. There was just so much smothering and sex jokes he could take from Dick and Jason.

They decided a quick hike into the forest would do them some good. Raven suggested they take his old camera with them so he could do some photography. Most of the pictures he took were of Raven though, admittedly.

“Yeah, sort of?” Tim replied, lowering his camera after taking a photo of a snow bunny. He smiled as the little creature scurried away after catching sight of them. Turning back to Raven and watching her carefully step over a dead log.

“Sort of?” Raven looked up and eyed him curiously.

“I think this is the edge of the property?” Tim looked around in the clearing they were in, cataloging the trees and calculating the distance they had walked. “Yeah, pretty much the edge of the property.”

Raven stuffed her gloved hands into her jacket and bounced on her heels to get some warmth into her body. “It’s such a huge property,” she whispered and watched her breath condense. There was a winter snap lingering in Gotham and it had been snowing for days. Thankfully it had stopped snowing today. Raven looked around briefly, appreciating the snowy quiet.

“Apparently B’s great grandparents kept this place as a farm back in the day. There’s a really old barn at the back of the house,” Tim told her. He absently took a photo of the dead tree branches, capturing the spiny outline they cast in the sky. He threw an amused smile over his shoulder. “Farming didn’t stick with Bruce. It really wasn’t his hobby of choice,”

Raven chuckled in amusement and stepped up to him, watching as he took a few more landscape photos and clearly enjoying himself. She was glad they were able to do something he liked. “That’s good. I don’t think any of you would be great farm boys,” she teased.

“Hey,” Tim chuckled. “I’m pretty sure I’d invent something to speed up farm processes in no time. Shouldn’t be too difficult,”

“Careful,” Raven chided, purple eyes danced in amusement and she quickly sidestepped Tim as he tried to reach for her. “Your nerd is showing,”

Tim released a loud bark of laughter. Reaching out with his gloved hand, he tried to make a grab for her. Snorting at her playfulness and he watched her slip out of his reach. “Raven,” Tim whined playfully and dropped his camera to dangle over his shoulder. Quickly catching up with her, he caught her wrist and pulled her towards him. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he chuckled as she squirmed in his grasp and tried to elbow her way out of it. Tim grinned at her frustrated whine and tsked lowly in the back of his throat. “So mean,”

Raven let out a soft huff and stopped wriggling. Leaning into his embrace, she conceded to the fact that she was not slipping out of Tim’s embrace (though honestly, with a little fight she could, really). Inhaling Tim’s familiar aftershave, she slowly melted into his embrace and relished the familiar warm press of his body against hers. Coming up to her toes, she pressed a clumsy kiss to his flushed right cheek. “What are you going to do about it?” she whispered playfully into his ear.

Tim groaned. “Raven,” he whispered and held her closer, fingers digging into her hips. Adjusting his hold around her, he leaned forward and captured her lips into a needy kiss. He felt her breathy chuckle and wrap her arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. Ignoring the biting cold and the uncomfortable press of his camera into his ribs, Tim sighed and savored the kiss. Humming softly at the kiss, Tim slipped one of his hands down her back and cupped her ass.

Feeling his hot flare of emotions feed her own and the tantalizing grope of her butt, Raven inhaled softly and pulled herself away from Tim. “Tim,” she breathed and dropped her chin on his shoulder, steadying her heartbeat and quickly glancing around the empty forest. “Someone might see,” she whispered, and swallowed as Tim continued to press closer to her and hotly press a kiss into her neck.

Slipping his hands away from her butt and over her hips, Tim ignored her and shifted both their hips towards each other into a delicious press that simply made the freezing outdoor temperature disappear. Pressing another needy kiss onto the underside of her chin, Tim sighed against her skin. “We’re alone,” he whispered, and hands traveled again over her back.

“Tim.” Whispered Raven, her words disappearing into a sigh as she melted into another long kiss. Her gloved fingers curled into his thick winter jacket to steady her as she felt his slick tongue slip against her own. A warmth bubbled lowly within her, and she keened softly, knees growing week and desperately chased after his lips. The cold wind tickled her flushed, warm cheeks, seemingly adding fire to the heady emotions.

Raven gasped as Tim shifted them ever so slightly, one strong leg slipping in between hers and gently pressing against the growing heat between her legs. Teeth scraped against her jaw and her fingers dug deep into his jacket as she felt her emotions purr. She whimpered as she felt his soft breathing in her ear.

“Tim,” whispered Raven, eyes flying open as she heard the distant snap of a twig. She blinked, pulling away but holding onto the man in front of her and relishing Tim’s hot breath fan over her cheek. She briefly looked over his shoulder, just to make sure they were alone.

Tim chuckled softly, swallowing and catching his breath. Catching on her worry, Tim pressed forward and kissed her cheek gently. “Sorry,” he mumbled. Finding his center, he straightened and pulled Raven’s hands away from his back. Slipping his gloved fingers against her left hand, he gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Let’s walk around a bit?”

Raven hummed and nodded, allowing Tim to tug her along through the snowy forest. They remained quiet for the most part, catching their emotions and enjoying the quiet noise the forest had to offer.

They reached another clearing with a massive tree off the center. Tim tugged her towards the tree and pointed at the large treehouse that sat up in the baren branches. “We built that when the little demon spawn came to live with us,” he told her.

The tree house was large, made of old, sturdy wood, and obviously built to last. It stood out in the white snowy background. Raven squeezed Tim’s hand and eyed him curiously. “You built that for Damian?”

“Yeah,” he breathed. He threw her an amused smile and pulled her towards the tree. “We thought it would make the eight-year-old brat less, uh, deadly. You know, give the kid a treehouse to have some semblance of a childhood, not that any of us really knew what that was, really.”

Raven’s lips curled into a small smile and followed Tim towards the back of the tree. “Did he like it?”

Tim brushed away some snow from the steps that were fixed to the side of the tree. He snorted and gave Raven a wry grin. “He knocked out Jason and left him tied up in this treehouse for 6 hours,” he told her.

Raven frowned and watched as Tim started to climb up the small stairs. “What are you doing?”

Tim threw an amused smile over his shoulder as he stopped his climb up the stairs. “C’mon. Don’t you want to check it out?”

Raven drew her brows together and eyed the large structure skeptically. “Is this even safe?”

“You of little faith,” Tim chuckled. He continued his short climb up the steps and pushed against the floor door to open it. When it released from its internal lock, he looked down and saw Raven at the foot of the stairs. “We built the Batcave. This is basically a fortress of treehouses,”

Raven rolled her eyes and slapped his calf. “Shut up. Your nerd is showing again.” She smiled as he caught her eye and laughed. Raven watched Tim jostle the door a bit more before pushing it open. He climbed throw the hole and turned around to stick his hand out and help Raven through the door. Climbing through the hole, Raven was sure she heard the old treehouse creak under their weight but kept quiet.

“Some fortress,” Raven said dryly, looking around the bare room. An old table stood in one corner of the treehouse. She watched Tim remove his camera from his shoulder and carefully place it on the table.

Tim rolled his eyes at her and walked around the space, looking out one of the two windows. “It’s a treehouse, what do you expect?”

“I don’t know. Maybe like a BatTreehouse?” she teased. She leaned against the window from of the other window and briefly looked out before turning back to an amused Tim.

Tim’s lips quirked into a silly smile and watched Raven in amusement. It was nice seeing her relaxed and with her guard down. “Aren’t you a tease today?”

Raven snorted and crossed her arms. Her purple eyes shone playfully catching Tim’s shift of emotions. Two could play that game. Tilting her head, she raised an eyebrow in mock challenge. “I am?”

Tim hummed his confirmation and moved away from the window, slowly crossing the small space. A familiar glint in his eyes. “Very.”

Raven raised a delicate eyebrow as she watched Tim draw closer to her. The emotions in the room shifted and it suddenly did not seem too cold. A pleasant warmth spread low in her abdomen and her senses tingled in anticipation. “Are you complaining?”

Tim chuckled, stopping in front of Raven and placing both of his hands on her hips. Smiling mischievously, he leaned forward and pressed a gently kiss on her cheek. “Hardly,” he mumbled into her skin. Shifting his hands, he drew her into an embrace, pressing her small form towards him.

“Good,” Raven mumbled into his shoulder, melting into the warm embrace and closing her eyes. Inhaling Tim’s familiar smell and relishing the solid press of his body and warmth against hers, Raven sighed in content. Despite her initial hesitations to go out for a long walk in the cold weather, she was glad to spend some alone time with her boyfriend and get away from all the new emotions at the house. Enjoying the quiet, Raven sighed softy and drew her arms tighter around Tim.

Feeling her shift in his arms, Tim tilted his head and eyed her curiously. “Everything alright?” he asked, voice low and carrying softly through the cold afternoon. He smiled when he felt her nod against his shoulder. Running his hand up her back, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her temple.

“Though,” Raven voice was mumbled against his shoulder. “I’m still disappointed that this is not a BatTreehouse.”

Tim laughed and his arms drew her tighter to him. “Hey,” he squeezed her waist and grinned at the soft chuckle from her. “I’ll have you know there are definitely weapons in this treehouse,”

Raven snorted and propped her chin on his shoulder. She smiled in amusement. “Of course,”

Rocking them gently, Tim squeezed her hips. He pressed his lips closer to her ear, earning a soft shiver from her form. “Such a tease,”

Leaning up and pressing into him, Raven relished Tim’s warm emotions. Curling her fingers into his upper arms, Raven leaned up and kissed the underside of his jaw. Her skin hummed in silent anticipation. Raven sighed. “I hear no complaints,”

Tim ran his right hand down her back and gently cupped her ass through her jeans. Releasing a soft chuckle, Tim easily caught her lips in a breathy kiss. “No complaints here,” he mumbled against her lips. He sighed softly as she readily responded to the kiss with her arms curling around his neck, drawing both of them closer.

Raven felt his warm emotions press into her and she readily responded in kind, raising to her toes and pressing into Tim’s lips. A soft moan escaped her lips as Tim pressed into her, pushing her against the old wooden wall. His strong fingers pressed through the thick layers of clothes into her hips, and she sighed softly at the pressure.

She felt him shift, hips pressing into hers greedily, and she felt her skin tingle in anticipation and her mind fog. Releasing breathy moan into Tim’s hot kisses, Raven pulled Tim closer. Heat started to pool low in her abdomen and Raven groaned as Tim tilted her head and kissed her deeply, parting her lips and slipping his tongue against hers.

Tim shifted them, greedily drinking in her softy sighs and pressing his right leg in between hers. Grazing his teeth against her jaw, Tim groaned as she shifted her hips and brushed against his own growing desires. “Raven,” he whispered into her neck, her soft scarf tickling his nose. He was faintly aware he was making out with his girlfriend in an old treehouse. How cliché. Tim felt Raven’s fingers curl into his winter jacket, and she shifted against him, hips urgently pressing into his. Fuck.

“Shut up and kiss me,” Raven whispered, lost in the fog of hot emotions. Eagerly lapping up Tim’s warm emotions, Raven leaned up and captured his lips in a heady kiss. She moaned softly as his tongue slipped against hers, teeth catching against lips. His right leg pressed into her, adding a delicious pressure in between her legs. She unconsciously bucked her hips, chasing after the hard pressure. Heat rushed through her and she sighed breathily.

She was vaguely aware of Tim pulling off his gloves. She felt one of his cold hands slip behind her head, threading into her hair and knocking off her black bonnet. Tim tugged her hair gently and titled her head up, kissing her deeply. Pressing into him and bucking into his leg for release, Raven heard Tim’s low groan.

She gasped loudly and pulled away from his demanding kisses as cold nimble fingers had slipped under her jacket and thick sweater and danced over the hem of her jeans. Cold fingers pressed into her heated skin and she whimpered softly. Unrelenting, Tim pressed forward and pushed her harder into the wall behind her. Fingers danced over the hem of her jeans as Tim instead started to kiss her neck, teeth hungrily scraping at the exposed flesh.

Raven felt like she was going to explode as heat pooled in her abdomen and teeth scraped against her throat. Throwing her head back and ignoring the sting of hitting her head against the wall, Raven released a soft moan. Tim’s fingers fiddled with the button of her jeans and his knuckles pressed into her abdomen. Her hips bucked in response. She faintly wondered how she did not burst into flames yet.

“Is this okay?” Tim whispered, voice raspy and needy. Despite the fog that clouded his mind, he was still vaguely aware that they were outdoors and just seconds away of potentially fucking their brains out in public. He felt Raven’s hips buck and his thumb pressed into her jeans button, ready to open a glorious treasure.

Raven inhaled deeply, lust practically purring. Cracking open her eyes, she caught Tim’s hooded stare. Lips curling and shifting her hips into his hand, she tried to pull him closer. “No one is here,” she whispered.

That was all the invitation he needed. In quick, practiced movements, Tim pushed the jeans button through its hole. Surging forward, Tim groaned and caught her lips in a heady kiss. Tongue hungrily slipping against hers just as his fingers slipped past the confines of her jeans and into her tantalizing wet underwear. He happily drank her keen as his fingers slipped into her wet heat. Groaning into the kiss, Tim felt her contract around his fingers.

“Ah!” Raven breathed loudly, head tipping back and hitting the wall behind her. Closing her eyes in pure ecstasy, Raven’s hips bucked into Tim’s hand as his fingers pumped into her in a steady delicious rhythm. Raven was sure her body was on fire as she felt her knees buckle. Her own fingers curled desperately into Tim’s shoulders, trying to keep herself upright. She moaned breathily as Tim curled his finger and hit that spot and she released a breathy moan.

“Raven,” Tim watched the emotions dance across Raven’s face. Pressing a kiss into her neck, he groaned as he felt her chase after his fingers. He felt her flutter around him. Tim sighed into her neck, his own need for release becoming painfully aware. His dick twitched in his jeans.

Tim’s fingers were relentless as they thrust into her and Raven mewled softly, heat close to making her body explode. Gasping as his fingers pressed into her, Raven grabbed Tim’s chin and caught his lips in a rough, heady kiss. She felt Tim’s burning emotions, begging for release pressing into her. She knew they both would not last very long – and while Tim’s fingers fucking her senseless were wonderful – her body was ready to explode.

As Tim roughly pushed into her, his body practically pressing her into the wall, Raven’s hand traveled down his chest. Tim immediately pulled away, and stared at Raven with wide eyes as he felt her fingers shakily work on his belt buckle. The distinct clink of metal releasing from the buckle could be heard over their heavy breathing. “Raven,”

Breathing heavily, Raven unbuttoned Tim’s jeans and swiftly unzipped his pants. Hearing his sharp intake of breath, her dark purple eyes caught his dark blue eyes heavy with lust. Her fingers slipped over his exposed boxers and danced over his hot bulge. “You’re going to fuck me into this wall,” It was more of a command than anything.

“Fuck,” Tim growled. He pulled his fingers out of her, enjoying the slick wet sound as he removed his fingers from her. Ignoring her groan, he grabbed her hips and roughly turned her around, making her face the wall. Mind clouded heavy with desire and his ears ringing loudly with his heavy heartbeat, Tim watched in satisfaction as Raven groaned at the rough action and arched her back. Pleasure spread through his chest in satisfaction – she did always like it rough. Surging forward, Tim groaned and pressed into her back, hips thrusting into the curve of her ass. Freeing her scarf around her neck, he hungrily pressed a kiss into the nape of her neck. He smirked at her breathy groan.

“Please,” Raven whimpered, hands braced on either side of her head and right cheek painfully pressed into the cold wood wall. She thrust her ass into Tim’s hip, seeking for release.

With a strangled grunt, Tim made quick work of pushing Raven’s jeans down her ass and legs. He listened as she inhaled softly as cold air brushed against her legs. His cold fingers ran up the side of her legs before reaching her exposed ass and giving the right cheek a hearty squeeze. After pushing her legs apart a little, Tim pushed down his jeans and pulled his throbbing member out of his boxers. He hissed as the cool air hit his warm dick and he gave it a few pumps. Stepping forward, he pressed himself into her back and allowed his dick to slip in between her legs and brush up against her wet heat.

“Tim,” Raven breathed and whimpered at the familiar feel of Tim’s cock brushing against her. She rolled her hips, hungrily brushing up against Tim’s cock. Bending over a bit more and pressing into the wall, Raven spread her legs further in anticipation. “Please,”

Groaning lowly, Tim grabbed Raven’s hips and with a one fluid thrust slipped into her. Raven released a strangled moan and pressed her cheek into the wall. The cool wall offered some relief to her hot cheek. She moaned softly as Tim filled her to the hilt, the pleasant stretch and fullness made her skin burn and her knees grow weak. She gasped as he began to move, thrusting into her and stoking a hungry fire.

His movements were fast and frantic, both desperately trying to chase after a much needed release. Tim’s right hand slid over her abdomen and towards her clit, and his fingers danced over her as he continued to press into her. Grunting into her neck, Tim rubber her clit while his other hand dug into her hip, guiding her with every heavy thrust.

Heavy breathing and the sharp sounds of flesh hitting flesh filled the treehouse. Tim groaned as he felt her flutter around him, he heard her breathing hitch as they inched towards the end. Despite how cold it was, he felt that his whole body was on fire, practically singing as he held Raven close. He groaned as Raven frantically met every thrust, catching him and pushing her soft body into him.

Raven tittered dangerously close to the edge, her body tingling and her emotions purring in satisfaction. She hungrily chased Tim’s emotions, catching his fiery need and gasping at each needy thrust. She dug her fingers into the wood and her back arched as she released a strangled groan. As fingers continued to dance across her clit and Tim’s hard thrusts filled her, she felt herself dangle close to the edge.

With a low growl, their movements become more frantic and the wet noise of sex filled their ears. Tim gasped and angled her hips just the right away, hitting her from behind that made her throw her head back in a satisfying groan. With a few more heavy strokes, Raven mewled and arched her back as heat just exploded inside of her and she toppled over the edge. Gasping and groaning, Raven tumbled forward as Tim chased after her orgasm and roughly pressing her into the wall, frantically riding out his own orgasm.

Their movements slowed down and their heavy breathing filled the cold air. Tim’s arms wrapped around Raven’s waist as her legs wobbled and he gently pressed her against his chest, supporting her. “I love you,” he whispered and pressed a kiss into her cheek.

Raven hummed softly. “I love you too,” she mumbled, heart still racing wildly in her chest. After a few more moments of stillness and trying to catch their breath, they slowly moved apart. Raven shuddered as Tim pulled out of her. Turning around, she leaned against the wall and inhaled unsteadily as she came tumbling back from her high.

Ignoring the freezing cold as it bit into his exposed thighs, Tim stepped forward and kissed Raven gently. A soft gust of wind slipped through the open windows making them both shiver. They worked quickly to pull up their pants, Raven fumbling with shaky legs. After Tim pulled his pants back up and closed his belt, he threw an affectionate look at Raven and gently helped her straighten her clothes and brushed some errand strands of hair from her face.

“Some walk,” Tim breathed with a soft laugh as they shared a look. Knowing that she needed to steady all her (and his) emotions, Tim gathered her in his arms and listened to her sigh into his shoulder. Adjusting their position, he leaned against the wall and felt her practically melt into him. “Excellent idea for a walk, Rae,”

Raven made a softy sound in the back of her throat and gently pinched his waist. Pulling away from his shoulder, she raised an eyebrow at him. “Having sex in your family treehouse really was not part of the plan,” she shot back. She made a face in sudden realization. “We had sex in your treehouse.” She said as she looked up at the old wooden ceiling. “There are no cameras here, right?!”

“Relax,” Tim breathed and brushed a hand down her back soothingly. He pulled her closer, enjoying her closeness. After assuring her, that no, there were no cameras hidden in the treehouse (maybe explosives? Who knows where Jason keep his shit), the two stayed up there for a little while longer, catching their breaths, and enjoying each other’s presence.

As she buried deeper into Tim’s embrace, she had to agree with him. This was definitely one of their best walks.

[amillionsmiles]

in your bedroom after the war (Dick/Artemis)

Title: in your bedroom after the war Summary: As far as coping mechanisms go, Artemis could be doing worse. At least her method has a gymnast’s ass. / Post-Invasion, pre-Outsiders. Rated M.  A/N: I have one (1) agenda and that is messy grieving fuck buddies who are each other’s ride-or-dies. if you are not into fic that sits squarely in sad feral horny territory, then this is probably not your speed.

[Read and review here] or continue under the cut.  

| GOTHAM

| JANUARY 14, 2017; 12:05 AM EST

Artemis is a bit heavier than she was in her teenage years, but her feet land lightly on the fire escape by the window. An hour ago, she’d called her mom from Metropolis, promising she’d be home by midnight. Ever since her daughter faked her death a year ago, Paula Nguyen has become even more of a worrywart, and Artemis knows that the five minutes she’s running late are going to cause her to receive an earful.

“Didn’t think I’d see you back in this neck of the woods.” A familiar figure drops from the roof above onto the rung below her.

“Nightwing.”

She’s not surprised that he’s been keeping tabs. Officially, he’s been on a leave of absence for the past six months, but Dick, like her, is vigilant in his grief.

She’d come back to Gotham because it put her closer to Metropolis and Beta Squad’s continued investigation of LexCorp, but the truth is that she could have Zeta-tubed from Palo Alto easily. Their—her—apartment had been no good though, not without Wally. So she’d left most of her things in storage to figure out later and moved back in with her mom. On days when Artemis can’t muster the energy to get out of bed, Paula wheels determinedly around the kitchen, ready to whip up some mì xào  or a warm bowl of  mì gói.  They play card games and laugh about how bad Wally was at tiến lên the first time Paula tried to teach him. Your boy has no patience, he always wants to play his strongest cards right away, her mom had teased, and Wally had protested, I make it a rule to always put my best foot forward! and Artemis had loved him even more then.

Loved. Loves. She hates the past tense.

“I mean, were you ever going to ask me to grab coffee?”

She can see the bits of Wally in his cracks. In a room together, it was always easy to tell they were best friends from the way they riffed off each other. The acrobat and the speedster: all verbal gymnastics and fast-moving quips. But unlike Wally, who liked poking fun because he liked getting attention, Dick is at his wittiest when trying to avoid talking about himself.

Artemis reaches out and pulls him to sit down beside her. She makes a show of looking at her watch.

“How’s… 12:15 AM this Saturday?”

Dick pretends to check it against his mental schedule. If his is anything like hers, it probably goes: Wake up. Exercise (beating up bad guys counts). Mourn.

“Yeah, seems like I can swing it.”

“Perfect,” says Artemis, sliding up the glass panes to let them into her childhood bedroom. “I’ve got just the stuff.” 

*

In the kitchen, Brucely stirs briefly from his dog bed to sniff the air and  yip, then curls back asleep. Paula hands Dick a mug, waiting for him to take a sip before saying, “So you were the one who had the brilliant plan to have my daughter fake her death.” 

Dick splutters; from the table, Artemis rises to his defense. “Mom,” she says. “Leave him be.”

Setting his cup down, Dick leans against the cabinets, bending his head slightly and rubbing the back of his neck. He does a good job of appearing chastised, and Artemis wants to roll her eyes, if only because she’s heard from Bette and Raquel that this pose is far too effective at convincing women to want to forgive him or try again.

“I’m not leading much of anything these days, if that’s at all a comfort to you.”

“Hmph.” Paula sniffs. “You live alone?”

“Yeah.” Dick shoots Artemis a questioning look over her mom’s head. Artemis shrugs.

“What do you do to fill the time?”

“A lot of reading. Gotham’s library system actually has a pretty good selection, believe it or not. I’ve also gotten really into meditating.”

“And you don’t sleep.”

Dick stiffens. For the first time, he looks exposed, a boy with too much guilt and too much time on his hands.

“I do. Tonight I was just… restless.”

Paula nods and backs up her wheelchair so she can sit by Artemis, curling her fingers over Artemis’s hand and squeezing. She raises her drink, Artemis and Dick following suit, the three of them toasting to invisible losses.

“Aren’t we all.”

*

Later, back on the fire escape, Dick taps his fingers against the railing, jittery. “I feel like I need to start doing jumping jacks. What was in that stuff?”

Artemis bites back a smile. “Yeah, Vietnamese coffee packs a hit. That’s my bad. Probably should have given you something non-caffeinated at this hour.”

“It’s fine. I’ll jog it out, or something.” He turns to go, but Artemis stops him with a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, listen—it was good seeing you tonight. And if you need someone to talk to…” What she really means is: it’d be nice to be around someone who’s hurting as much as I am. Not to say that the rest of the team wasn’t as torn up over Wally’s death, but she and Dick had been ground zero. Closest to the blast.

After a pause, Dick nods. “Yeah… I could use a sparring partner, actually. I’ll send you an address.”

“Okay.” Satisfied, Artemis withdraws her hand, curling her fingers into her palm.

It feels like a start.

*

Dick’s directions lead Artemis to Wayne Manor; from there he takes her to the Bat Cave.

“I thought you were striking out on your own,” Artemis says, using her forearms to deflect a kick to her face. Dick grunts and recovers, throwing a punch to her stomach; she dances out of the way.

“I am. I just pop in here from time to time because Bruce has better equipment. Plus there’s less of a chance of me disturbing the neighbors.” He gestures to the eerily blue-lit stone walls around them.

Artemis feints and goes low, ducking under Dick’s guard. Two quick hits to Dick’s sternum pushes him back, before he gets a hand on her wrist and twists her around so that her back is pressed against his chest.

“Weren’t we supposed to be talking?”

Kicking his shin, Artemis breaks free. “All right, fine. I’ll start.”  Jab.  “I keep wanting a scapegoat.”  Kick.  “Like, one person to blame, instead of something as big as the Reach. But it’s not some giant revenge thing, and I know Wally wouldn’t want me to go down that sort of all-consuming rabbit hole even if it was, and that pisses. Me. Off.” On those last words, she manages to use Dick’s momentum against him and flips him over her shoulder.

For a minute, it’s so quiet between them she can hear the faint plip of water dripping from a stalactite into the water below the sparring dais. Still lying on the floor, Dick confesses, “I keep hearing him.”

“I make a joke to myself and he’s there, in my ear, with the punchline. And then…” He passes a hand over his face.  “And then I realize that the real punchline is him being gone.”

Slowly, Artemis approaches him. She feels like she did when they were undercover at Haly’s circus so many years ago, that brief moment of hangtime before their hands connected in the air. She means to sit down next to him, pat his shoulder, she doesn’t know what, but instead Dick sweeps her legs out from under her and she goes down hard, the air whooshing out of her chest as she falls flat on her back.

“Agh!” The release sets something loose inside her. Next thing she knows, she’s yelling again, louder, just because.

Dick catches on and then it’s just the two of them shouting, their voices echoing through the cavern, threading around and piling atop each other like a flock of birds. After they’re done, Dick rolls so that they’re lying side by side.

“You know, when we were starting out—when we first became friends—I used to make fun of Wally that if he kept talking so much while running he was bound to swallow more bugs, or something. And he’d just shoot back like, ‘Nah dude, you think I’m not fast enough to see them and dodge them in the air?’ But you know how he was always so hungry after missions? One time I was so mad at him I put a bug in his sandwich. I’ve never forgotten the look on his face after he bit into it and I said, dodge that.”

“You didn’t.” Artemis gasps and covers her mouth, horrified, but she can see it so vividly: the colors draining from Wally’s face, making his freckles pop even more against his skin, the same greenish tint his cheeks took the time they went to Vietnam and he got food poisoning. He’d spent two days feverishly glaring up at the mosquito netting, and Artemis had draped cold hand towels over his forehead and promised she wasn’t going to leave him for the very obliging boy who kept bringing them ice.

“I did.” Dick is gleeful. “Really put the ‘rank’ in prank.”  

Artemis snorts; the snort turns into a full-blown guffaw. Dick turns toward her, laughing too. His hair is matted with sweat but still soft; it brushes against her forehead.

It feels so good to be close to someone again, to be able to flip on a dime from sadness to frustration to anger to laughter and not have to explain herself. She can’t remember the last time she smiled and didn’t feel guilty about it, and she means it more affectionately than anything when she reaches over and brings Dick’s mouth to hers, like if she inhales whatever they’ve temporarily managed to create here between them, it’ll be enough to tide her over for the next few months. For a second, he’s warm and responsive, before his lips stiffen and he pulls back.

“I shouldn’t have done that.”

Shouldn’t, couldn’t, wouldn’t.  Shouldn’t beat yourself up about it, shouldn’t blame yourself for getting back in the game.  Artemis is sick of people telling her how to deal, how it’s supposed to go.  It’ll get better and then it doesn’t. People talk like there are guidebooks for this kind of shit, like it’s a marathon she just needs to pace herself through. And it’s the stupidest thing, but she misses being held.

She sits up and crosses her arms, resisting the urge to curl in on herself. “You didn’t do anything. I’ll go.”

“No, Artemis, wait, I don’t think you should go, I just want to understand what’s going on—”

“I want you to touch me, okay?” she explodes. “I want you to touch me because he’s never going to again and I know you loved him too and—and maybe if it’s you, I won’t feel so desperately alone.”

Dick looks stricken, and then, hesitantly, he reaches for her. His eyes are so blue, the kind of crushed eggshell you’d use to make a paint. “You’re not alone.”

“Prove it,” she says, vision blurring with tears—wanting, needing him closer, and then his hairline is up against hers again and his nose is at her cheek, his mouth at her jaw, soft but with a willingness to bruise. Don’t ask me what we’re about to do, Artemis silently begs, and Dick doesn’t.

 *

 Wally had been a restless lover. Always turning them over, switching positions. Artemis had taken it as a challenge, part of the ongoing competition that defined their relationship. Deep down, she’d known that Wally would be just as content if the rest of their sex life consisted solely of spooning gently on Sundays, which, if anything, was why she’d been so eager to experiment—because it felt like an easy gift she could give, not something she had to master to “maintain excitement” or make him stay.

She’s not sure what she expected from Dick. Maybe that’s a comfort—that she wasn’t fantasizing before they happened, wondering about all the mechanics of how it would go. Dick lets her call the shots, lets her ride him into the ground, the grip of his fingers around her thighs the only reminder she isn’t just angling toward oblivion. When he presses his thumb between her legs, it’s a weird sort of anchor—like hearing a voice pick up on a line you thought was dead. She has a body, and here’s someone on the other end of it, caring about her release. As soon as that thought hits, the relief shudders through her; she keeps rocking long enough to feel Dick follow, a stutter and a grunt, before she collapses boneless over him, the sweat of his skin a comforting stickiness against her cheek.

Internally, she apologizes to Bruce for desecrating his training space. Then again, they’re hardly the first of the Justice League to get handsy in less than appropriate places. She’s seen how Black Canary and Green Arrow act around each other.

Below her, Dick catches his breath. The rush of blood—his or hers—is loud in her ears.

“I didn’t think you’d be so…”  Giving, she means to say, but it gets lost on her tongue. “I mean, Zatanna…” she trails off again.

If Dick’s embarrassed at the prospect of his ex-girlfriend having blabbed about the details of their sex life to Artemis, he doesn’t show it. His fingers find a snag in her hair; gently, he works it loose. The air smells hedonistic. He keeps combing. Nice is the only word she can think to describe it, and that makes her want to cry again, so she squeezes her eyes shut.

“Thank you,” she whispers against his chest.

Dick pauses his ministrations. He flattens his palm against the base of her neck and just—holds her there.

“Don’t mention it.”  

When she goes home that afternoon to shower, she runs the water on full blast for a long time.

 *

 Armed with Chinese food, she visits Dick’s place the next day intent on making amends. Dick doesn’t even act surprised; he just points to the glass coffee table where she can set the bag of chopsticks, napkins, and takeout.

“I’m trying to decide what to watch.”

There’s really no need for him to stand in front of the TV the way he does, one hand propped on his hip as he clicks through options with the remote. Artemis lets herself ogle, a bit. The surest way to blow past what happened between them yesterday is to be honest with herself, right? And as far as coping mechanisms go, Artemis could have done worse. At least her method has a gymnast’s ass.

“Any preferences?”

“Between what?” asks Artemis, cracking open the carton of lo mein and settling back against the cushions. The Netflix suggestion algorithm onscreen paints a condemning picture of Dick’s tastes. “True crime or… true crime?”

Wally had been really into nature documentaries. One time during freshman year, when they were still living on Stanford’s campus, they’d gotten high in Wally’s dorm room and watched Blue Planet. Wally had cried when the seal got flung apart by killer whales.

“I’ll Be Gone in the Dark it is, then,” says Dick. He settles next to her on the couch, peeling back one of the orders and sniffing its contents. “What’s this one?”

“Salt and pepper ribs. They were today’s special.”

“Artemis.” Dick beams. “You really do care about me.”

 *

 Ten minutes into the episode begs a single question: “Isn’t it sort of depressing that you spend so much of your day fighting crime, and then you go home to unwind and just watch… more of it?”

Dick shrugs. “It keeps me sharp. And it’s nice seeing other people solve problems.”

“Well, if you ever feel like branching out, there’s a short film about Rubik’s cubes you might like.” Artemis nudges his side. “Remember when you were a scrawny math geek?”

Bringing both hands behind his head, Dick smirks. “Still a math geek. Just not scrawny.”

Artemis stares. That was just a bit of friendly showboating, right? Or was it a flirt? Not trusting herself, she whips her gaze back toward the TV. What feels like eons later, the credits roll.

“Artemis,” Dick says, too soft for having just finished a show about murder. He taps the corner of his mouth. “You’ve got some food stuck.”

She wipes with the back of her hand; a breaded piece of orange chicken emerges as the culprit. Without thinking, she flicks it off, sending it flying somewhere onto Dick’s carpet.

“Oops.”

Chuckling, Dick shakes his head. “I need to vacuum tomorrow, anyways.”

The mention of tomorrow stirs her. “Right. I should head out.”

“Yeah.” Dick rises to help her clean up their mess, holding open the plastic bag so she can toss in the soiled napkins and other bits of trash. “Or—”

He hesitates, but the hesitation’s enough. It might as well be a hand on her wrist, with how it stops her in her tracks. All night, despite what she told herself, she’s been looking for proof: proof that his aloneness fits the shape of hers, that he needs her, too. This time, Dick makes the first move—cups her face in both hands and kisses her, slow and deep and full of heat. Some pepper from the food they ate still lingers on his lips, making her mouth tingle, and Artemis is dizzy and flat on her back on the couch before she knows it, giving in.

Not scrawny at all, she thinks, admiring the solidness of Dick’s knees on either side of her, the weight of his frame as they grind together. The sheer mechanics of it feel very horny-teenager-after-prom, but the way Dick sucks her bottom lip and swallows her breath down with it is decidedly adult.  These days, Artemis practically lives in her sports bra, which doesn’t exactly grant easy access, but when Dick’s fingertips skim over the cotton covering her breasts the sensation zings all the way down her spine.

“Need… off…”

“Yeah,” Dick murmurs, humming as he moves down the column of her neck. “Gimme a sec, I’m working on it.”

She’d worn sweats because she figured their bagginess would keep her from sparring again and any potential… situations that could arise from that. Instead, all it means is Dick unties the drawstrings easily, sliding her pants down her legs. Cool air brushes across her as he shifts positions; she wants to sob in relief. His teeth graze her hip and then catch the edge of her panties and—oh. Fuck. The moan tears out of her and she scrabbles at the armrest, hips rising of their own accord. Next time, she is handcuffing Dick to a bed, because what he’s doing with his tongue and fingers should be illegal. She can feel him grinning, the bastard, and the only thing keeping her from crushing his head to a pulp between her thighs is the maneuver he pulls where he hooks her knees over his shoulders, so he can change the angle and plunge in deeper. Artemis shoves the edge of her T-shirt into her mouth at the last minute, only barely managing to muffle her cry.

Dick surfaces from his solo mission looking entirely too satisfied, mouth glistening. Trembling, still, from her orgasm, Artemis squints at him, possessed by some combination of unbridled lust and rage.

“Dick.”

“You calling, or asking?”

“Shut up,” she hisses. She feels like a newborn foal, after what he just did to her, but the urge to dismantle him just as thoroughly sends her surging upward and pushing him back. Dick welcomes their reversed positions by peeling off his shirt and tossing it over his shoulder, all while Artemis works furiously at his belt. It shouldn’t feel so good, to hear the metal clink against his button and watch the leather slide through the loops. To see the shadows the light of the TV casts on him—the lashes on his cheeks, the hollow of his throat. Artemis hadn’t paid much attention the first time, too desperate and caught up a bit in self-loathing, but now she’s actually enjoying this, savoring the flex of Dick’s abs as he pushes up to meet her, his skin pebbling at her touch.

“I’m going to take you apart,” she purrs.

Dick groans and bucks. The sensation sends a sharp spike of pleasure through her, and she clamps down on him tighter, refusing to yield.

“Try me, Tigress,” he rasps, pushing himself up on one arm so he can mouth at her collarbone. With his other hand, he pulls off her hairtie so her hair comes free of her ponytail, and this is going to be a thing with him, isn’t it, him wanting to fuck her while her hair swings loose around her face. She indulges him for a few minutes, claws his back and bites his shoulder for good measure, but then she’s pushing him back down and stretching out her body as languidly as possible to remind him who’s boss. Their pace slows. Dick keeps a hand fisted in her hair, so he can tug her head back in order to keep her neck exposed to his wanton mouth, but his grip gets less sure the closer she pushes him to the edge.

“Art—” says Dick, the single syllable like a painting pinned to the wall, fraught with desire, and then he just lets it drop, the tresses of her hair falling through his fingers. She wants to tell him that he’s beautiful, that he does look like a boy wonder, right then, in the midst of coming undone, chest flushed and hair mussed and pupils blown nearly wide enough to overtake the blue.

She doesn’t, but she stays the night, and that’s close enough.

 *

  High-functioning, Artemis’s therapist had called her, before Artemis moved back to Gotham. And it does feel like a high—the sneaking around, the after-hours meet-ups, the back-and-forth. There’s no one really keeping tabs on her, though Artemis has plenty of cover stories if anyone asks (new intel, side reconnaissance, etcetera, etcetera). Her mom eyes her and says, “As long as you’re not planning on staging your own death again, because I will find out and I will kill you this time,” and that’s that. Artemis nearly laughs. If anything, what she’s doing is the opposite, a small resurrection. An entire month and a half passes this way: day trips and dinners and movie nights and Dick and her in a bathtub, in the shower, against a wall. She even wears a gown and heels once, not because they have an actual event to attend, but because Dick has a fantasy that involves taking her from behind in the Wayne Manor library.

They’re in his apartment on a Sunday morning bathing in the afterglow, sheets tangled around their waists. Thank god Dick is one of those assholes that splurged on not only a nice mattress but also a solid bed frame. Artemis reaches over to push the hair out of his eyes. The black tuft on the back of his head that she likes grabbing is fluffed up like a duck's tail, and under the sunlight slanting through the windows, he looks angelic.

“Are you falling back asleep?”

Yawning, Dick snags her around the waist, dragging her to him. She should not delight this much in being manhandled.

“You wore me out,” he complains, tucking his chin over her shoulder.

“They just don’t make them like they used to,” Artemis sighs. Dick growls a little at the dig, fingers tightening against her hip.

Well. If he’s going to nap, she is, too. Comfortably spooned, she snuggles back against him, prepared to drift off.

“Do you think Wally would have wanted…” Dick doesn’t finish the thought.

Artemis turns in his arms. Dick has long eyelashes, and he’s looking at her through them almost bashfully. She places a hand on his chest. Feels his heartbeat thump once, twice.

“I think he would want us to be happy.”

“Are you?” Dick’s voice fades out and he has to swallow hard to clear his throat. “Happy?”

“I’m not… miserable.” 

Dick runs his hand up her bare arm, over her shoulder. “Me neither.”

“You know, Wally and I thought…” She bites her lip, remembering a whoosh of air, Wally speeding to her side to kiss her and interrupting her report on the disabled Paris MFD.  I know we promised each other we’d get out of this game, but maybe we can have our life together and play hero, too.  “We thought we’d have everything.”

Dick’s response isn’t mournful; it’s matter-of-fact. “After my parents died, I never really convinced myself that I could have it all.”

“That sounds like something Batman would say.”

“Does it?”

“A little.”

Once upon a time, Artemis had stood before the team ready to lay bare her darkest secret, waiting to be kicked out. And Dick had shown his hand: he’d known from the beginning and hadn’t cared.  You aren’t your family. You’re one of us. She knows he’s second-guessed himself over the years, wondering how fit he actually is to play leader. But for her, trust has always been the easiest thing about the two of them. It was why she’d said yes so easily to his deep cover mission—because she knew that he wouldn’t quit until he’d brought all of them home, that he would do whatever he could to keep them safe.

Taking his face in both her hands, she looks deep into his eyes. “You deserve good things, Dick Grayson.”

“Mm.” Dick smiles into her kiss, hooks his ankle over hers. “Keep telling me that. I’ll start to believe it.”

 *

 Jade abandons Will and Lian on a Tuesday, and Artemis’s carefully crafted equilibrium falls apart. At least this time she’s not the one directly being left, unlike when she was a teenager. Her expectations of her older sister had hardly been high, but if she’d plotted them on a graph they’d have trended upward. Now they’ve tanked.

“Did she leave any hint of where she was going?” Dick asks over the whir of his juicer. He’s gotten really into squeezing oranges lately; Artemis can’t complain because he always gives her the first glass.

“It’s Jade. She never wants to be found, and I hardly think she’s about to try an  Eat Pray Love type thing.”

“Eat Slash Steal, maybe?” Dick offers, dropping two ice cubes into a drink and setting it in front of her.

Artemis sips, balling up a napkin and throwing it at him at the same time. “Watch it, that’s still my family you’re talking about.”

“I’m sorry. How’s Will taking it?”

“As well as any dad trying to raise a two-year-old by himself would.”

“So, poorly.” Dick taps his finger against the table. “Are they coming here?”

Artemis looks at him blankly. “Why?”

“I figured they might want to be closer to you and your mom now that Jade’s gone. Gotham’s not so bad—you and I turned out fine. And Will probably needs to look into preschools and a babysitter for Lian soon. If you move in with me, you can bring her over whenever.”

The last piece of information slips in so casually she thinks she’s misheard. “What?”

“If you move in with me, you can bring Lian over whenever,” repeats Dick. “This place is as good as yours. You’re over here all the time anyway.”

Suddenly, she can’t breathe. “You’re serious.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

She can’t meet his eyes. “W—Will’s home is in Star City. He’s not going to move.”

Slowly, Dick says, “Okay. But my offer doesn’t really depend on Will.”

Her stuff is still in boxes. She’s still paying for a storage unit almost 3,000 miles away. And Dick is waiting on her so intently it makes her chest hurt.

Artemis stands up. “We’re not doing this.”

Dick’s eyebrows rise. Annoyance, or maybe anger, flickers across his face. “You wanna fill me in on what exactly it is we’re doing, according to you?”

“We’re not going to fight about this like we’re…”  In a relationship. In love. In anything other than a messy configuration started by shared grief. She doesn’t say any of it out loud, but she doesn’t need to—Dick’s always been great at reading people, and he’s known all her tells from the start.

“Right.”  The single syllable comes out as cold and pointed as an icicle. He pushes his chair back from the table and stands up. The clouds are rolling in, throwing shadows across his features. Even now, Artemis wants to kiss him, wants to be the one to smooth the furrow between his eyebrows away.

“Dick…”

“Do me a favor, will you?” Dick grabs his jacket from the hook by his door, shrugging it on. He pauses, briefly, in the doorway. “Lock my door on the way out.”  

That night, she lies alone in her bedroom next to the picture of her, Wally, and Brucely. Brucely snuffles at the foot of her bed and then leaps onto the covers, and this time she doesn’t shoo him off. Neither does she fall asleep.

 *

 There was a song Jade had liked to sing, passed down from their mother: a Vietnamese lullaby about a yellow butterfly, to the tune of “Frère Jacques.” The butterfly flies all over the sky. Come and see. Come and see. When it became clear that Artemis’s hair would grow in blond, not black, Jade started pulling it, making her giggle. You’re the yellow butterfly, see?

The taxicab she calls for the airport is bright yellow in the morning light. Plain old civilian travel for plain old civilian business. You don’t need to be a superhero to fly across the country and move in with your brother-in-law and your niece. She’ll sing silly little songs and wash Lian’s hair, and they’ll be a family same as anyone else’s: clumsy, incomplete.

“Artemis.” Dick coalesces out of the fog. They haven’t seen or spoken to each other in a week, and she should be mad that he’s here because it probably means he’s been monitoring her web traffic and caught wind she’d bought plane tickets. Still, all she feels is relief.

Jade had laughed when Artemis had let slip what she was doing during one rare sisterly bonding moment. “Oh, darling sister, your thing with your little bird boy isn’t about moving on. You’re using him as a holding pattern. Try not to damage him too much, hm?” Rankled, Artemis had hung up the phone—what did Jade know about anything, besides shoving it under the rug and pretending it didn’t matter? Now, though, Artemis sees things more clearly. Jade did know something about bodies and what they could and couldn’t fix; after all, isn’t that why she ran?

She worries with the strap of her duffel bag, letting Dick approach.

“If this were a romcom, you would have waited until I got to the airport and then run through security.”

“If this were a romcom,” says Dick, stopping in front of her and shoving his hands in his pockets, “I’d be trying to make you stay.”

She thinks he might be the one person left on this planet who knows her best. She thinks they could save each other, if they’d let themselves try. But they each have work to do on their own, first.

Setting down her bag, she tucks her face into the crook of his neck and breathes him in. Wherever else she goes, this spot will always feel like forgiveness. Nose buried in her hair, Dick squeezes her back.

The taxi driver rolls down his window. “Is this guy coming with us or not?”

Artemis pulls back, and there’s so much sky in Dick’s eyes.

“You know where to find me,” she says.

 *

 | STAR CITY

| JULY 29, 2018; 7:30 AM PST

 “Who are you here to recruit this time?” Will asks, leaning against the doorframe, but Artemis doesn’t need an answer, doesn’t need any details but the black hair she can see just over Will’s shoulder, Dick’s voice at the end of a line.

He jumps, and she jumps with him. They’ll figure out everything else as they go.

Before Dick can respond, she says: “I’m in.”

[youngerdrgrey]

the only way to get over someone... // a Batwoman fic

About: SPOILERS FOR THE SEASON TWO FINALE / post-2x18 / season two finale — After the s2 finale, Ryan tries to be a good 'friend' to Sophie, but it does not go the way she planned (feat. an extended cut of the similar tastes in conversation).

Notes: Don’t read if you haven’t seen the finale. This picks up at the end of the Kate and Ryan scene, then continues on from there because my WildMoore heart wanted to. Under the cut because spoilers + read on ao3

Kate Kane is leaving, and Ryan might need some time to fully process that. Kate’s opposite her, comfortably seated on the corner of their desk. The beer bottle clinks against the edge of it as Kate covers her bases. The suit’s staying with Ryan.

Kate starts, “As for Mary and Luke….”

Ryan jumps in with a smile. “They are my family, and I am going to take care of them.” No questions asked. Though, with Luke and his new super suit, she will definitely have help in keeping their family safe.

“Thank you.” Kate smiles back at Ryan. “And Sophie?”

Not family. Not in the traditional sense, at least. She’s family-adjacent at best. She’s… she’s Sophie, the same person who ruined Ryan’s life and relationship multiple times, and the same person who helped Ryan build them both back up.

Ryan quirks her head from side to side. “Can I get back to you on that?” The repetition gets another grin out of Kate. Worry still shines in Kate’s eyes though. Ryan admits, “She’s saved me a lot more than she’s hurt me, so, I guess I can look out for her too.”

Kate sighs in relief. “Good. She’ll need it. She’s not invincible, Ryan. Mary told me all about the two of you going back and forth over Cluemaster. She’s tough, but Sophie’s a lot more fragile than she seems.”

Ryan has seen a bit of that. Sophie does her best to hide the cracks in her armor, but Coryana in particular stripped down a layer. Her fear for Jordan took another, even her concern for Ryan in these last few days wore at it. “And you’re about to break her heart.”

Kate nods. She seems so sure that looking for Bruce is the right move. Maybe that’s what a good trip of Snake Bite can offer: clarity. Not that Ryan’s interested in joining Kate on that other side.

“Help her through it?”

Ryan jokes, “I’ll make sure she finds a suitable rebound. There’s a pretty great lesbian bar here.”

Kate’s eyes twinkle. “Keeping it close to home?”

Ryan does not like the implication in that question. She redirects the conversation. “Call us every once in a while. And make sure to tell Mary how much you miss her. She won’t admit it, but she loves to hear it. And maybe text Parker too. That girl is so hungry for gay mentorship. And —”

“I get it. I will keep in contact.”

Ryan aims her beer bottle at Kate like a threat. “You better. Don’t make me come find you. I almost died the last time.”

But Sophie saved her then. Ryan can always do the same.

.

.

Sophie does not know what to do with herself now. There’s no guidebook on what to do when the love of your life comes back from the dead, then promptly leaves to search for her cousin. No FAQ with tips on how to handle making out with said love of your life either.

There’s a knock on her door. A hopeful part of her immediately thinks it’s Kate. Sophie will open the door, and Kate will drop down her duffel bag and helmet and say, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Sophie rushes to the door. Throws it open and — oh, of course. Ryan gives her an apologetic smile from the other side of it.

“I know I’m probably not who you want to see right now….” Ryan starts. Her arms shift around two resusable grocery bags with overflowing snacks and wine bottles. A backpack bumps them from her shoulder. She offers another smile. “I brought supplies. And I’m here to keep you company through the heartache and to take you up on your offer.”

That explains the backpack. Sophie checks, “Kate’s leaving tomorrow?”

Ryan nods. “Tonight’s her last night in the loft, and my only night crashing on your couch. If the offer still stands?”

She seems hopeful too, and nervous, like she’s bracing herself for Sophie to close the door in her face.

Sophie hasn’t exactly had any company at her place. Not since Julia. It wouldn’t hurt to have someone here tonight. Make her laugh, make her smile.

Sophie steps back to let Ryan in. Ryan glides forward. Sophie closes the door and leans back against it so she can watch Ryan take in the space.

Ryan does a full turn in the entrance. “Damn, you got it like this?” She whistles low in appreciation. Her platform converse pad along the hardwood flooring between the front door and the living room. It’s spacious with the most comfortable couch Sophie’s ever owned, her favorite coffee table, and a large TV, courtesy of a Black Friday sale two years ago. This place isn’t as nice as her old apartment with Tyler, but it’s still one of the nicer places that Gotham has to offer.

Ryan glances back at Sophie, and she realizes she should probably answer the playful question.

“I barely got it like this. Say what you want about my comphet marriage,” Sophie pushes off the door to approach Ryan in the living room, “the dual incomes made life a lot easier.” She winces. Any income. “I may have to downsize again now that I’m unemployed.”

Ryan sets her bags down on the coffee table. “Just work with Luke.”

Sophie’s eyebrows raise in confusion. “In real estate?”

Ryan gives Sophie an equally confused look. “He still daylights as Head of Wayne Security. If you work there too, it’ll make Bat stuff that much easier.”

Oh. “I… hadn’t thought about that.”

“Bat stuff or what comes next?” Ryan asks.

“Honestly? Any of it.” Sure, Ryan has called Sophie now that Sophie knows the truth. They’ve teamed up, and they really did a great job last night during the blackout. All signs point to Sophie officially being a part of the team. She simply doesn’t want to assume and get hurt in the process.

Ryan reads her silence and rolls her eyes. “Consider this your Bat Team orientation. We mostly work nights, though there are the occasional work trips. We went to a beautiful island this year for a company retreat.”

Sophie can play along. “I think I’ve been there. Shame about the fire.”

Ryan nods with a faux somber expression. “Beautiful sight, even if it did almost kill me. Oh, and we have full medical benefits, so long as you go to Mary and Mary alone. No overtime. No days off. But you get to make Gotham a better place.”

Sophie pretends to think it over. “Is there a uniform?”

“Only for me. The rest of the staff comes as they are.”

“Lucky them.”

Ryan pops the collar on her flannel shirt. “You should see me in my suit.” It fits Ryan in all the right places for being protective wear. Sophie will never say that though. Ryan’s cocky enough without being complimented.

Sophie eyes the bags. “So what’s the plan?”

Ryan perks up, their earlier bit forgotten. “Anything we want. I’ve got face masks —” She tugs them out to show Sophie. “Candy and snacks. Most of it’s vegan, so I can enjoy it too. I brought wine that I took from the bar. We can blast angry, pop music, or do sad girl karaoke. Ooh, you can call Kate a bitch again.”

“I called Circe a bitch,” Sophie clarifies.

Ryan waves that off. “She deserved it.”

“Well, she’s gone so….” Sophie shrugs because that is the point, isn’t it? She glances around her one bedroom apartment — the effects of her last break-up — and logs the empty spots on the walls where old art would’ve gone. There’s space on the bookshelves from the books Tyler took with him. After the divorce, Sophie had to physically sort through her life. What does she do now when there’s nothing to pack up, or send away?

Sophie admits, “I’ve never had another person for this. Though, Kate and I did have a better goodbye than we usually do.” Even saying that puts a little smile in the corner of Sophie’s lips.

Of course Ryan clocks it. “Oh, y’all had a good-bye then.”

Sophie’s smile gets bigger as she licks her lips. A very good bye. As the rest of the conversation filters back in, Sophie’s smile shrinks. “She wants me to go for something easier.”

Ryan hums in understanding. “Long distance isn’t great, especially when you have no idea where she’ll be.”

“Are we still talking about Kate?” Sophie asks. Angelique’s out there somewhere. Ryan spent the majority of their working relationship hating Sophie because of Angelique. If Ryan’s still hung up on her….

Ryan shrugs. “We’re all getting over someone. I am just much further along than you.”

Honestly, direct communication is not something Sophie is interested in right now. She doesn’t want to think about whether Ryan misses Angelique, or how much Sophie will miss Kate when the reality sets in. She doesn’t want to think about Imani, or the fact that Ryan has had a whole mini-relationship in these last few months while Sophie’s been frozen in grief and time.

“You know what they say, the best way to get over someone…” Sophie lets the sentence hang a moment as Ryan’s eyebrows inch higher and higher up her hairline. Sophie laughs before finishing, “is to watch a movie with a friend. You pick.”

The way Ryan’s face lights up with the power is absolutely worth whatever disaster will take up the next two hours of Sophie’s life. “Let me see what you got.”

.

.

As Sophie brings two glasses of wine over to the living room, Ryan puts a throw pillow on the ground and tells Sophie to sit on it.

“But the couch—”

“Is for me!” Ryan plops down with her feet on either side of the pillow. She looks like they’ve got church in the morning and the hot comb’s smoking on the tray beside her. “You know the set up,” Ryan says.

“True. Care to tell me why?” Sophie’s hair is fine.

Ryan’s nose quirks up the way it does when she needs to keep her emotions in check. She shrinks into her chest. “When I was sad, my mama used to play with my hair. She’d claim that she was oiling my scalp, but mostly, she ran her fingers through it. Gave me a little massage until I felt better, or went to sleep. I am willing to do that for you, if you want to actually relax.”

Relaxing does sound better than drinking a lot of wine and crying. Besides, Ryan studies Sophie’s face like she wants to find every crack and smooth it over. How could Sophie say no?

She sets the wine down and sits onto the pillow. Instinct takes over as she scoots back until her back’s to the couch and rests her neck against the side of the cushion. Ryan does a little happy dance that shakes the couch. She presses play on the movie, and Sophie watches the credits. She does. She sees that much for sure. But once Ryan slips her fingers into Sophie’s hair, Sophie tunes all the way out.

A light lavender scent hits her nose each time Ryan’s hands shift towards the crown of her head. Did Ryan put on a perfume, or is that an essential oil? Lavender’s meant to be calming. Soothing. Sophie wants to drown in it.

As Ryan massages her way along Sophie’s scalp, the world melts away. No pain, no drama, just a weightlessness that eases down her body and makes her want to cry. Her body sinks into the softness. The peace and stability of knowing hands and the right amount of pressure to send tingles through her skin. Then Ryan’s short nails get involved, lightly scratching, and Sophie barely bites down on a moan.

Ryan must still hear it. A little chuckle shakes the couch. She doesn’t comment thankfully. Sophie doesn’t have the energy to be embarrassed right now. Too lost in the feel of Ryan’s hands on her. If this is what Ryan can do with just Sophie’s head —

Sophie’s eyes fly open. She needs to get a grip.

Ryan’s fingers snake down to Sophie’s shoulders. Again, the only grip Sophie can focus on is Ryan’s. Sophie lasts another few minutes of this high before sighing out, “Marry me.”

She figures Ryan will laugh at that too. They’ve joked enough about dates, both in and out of the cowl. Ryan doesn’t even stop touching her. Ryan leans down rather than keeping the distance. The shift in position tightens her thighs on either side of where Sophie sits. She waits until her breath is a warm whisper against Sophie’s ear to let out the sexiest little laugh. Sophie genuinely stops breathing.

“If you think this is good, you’re not ready.”

In an instant, Sophie would really like to be. Ready, willing, anything and everything if it feels this good and Ryan stays this close to her. Her face is on fire as she turns her head to see Ryan. Fuck, Ryan’s lips are right there. Teasing and parted, and Ryan’s tongue dips out to wet them. Sophie drags her gaze up from Ryan’s lips to meet Ryan’s hooded, sparkling eyes. Oh she knows exactly what she’s doing to Sophie. She’s enjoying this.

Ryan’s voice still sounds teasing. “Watch the movie, Sophie.”

“I’ll watch what I want to watch,” Sophie shoots back.

Ryan takes that as the challenge it is. She holds the stare and kneads her thumbs into the backs of Sophie’s shoulders. Sophie’s eyelids flutter, and she struggles again to keep from audibly moaning. At least this time, she catches the little gulp Ryan does.

Ryan scoots back onto the couch, up to her full — albeit little — seated height. Sophie turns further, and she tries not to think too hard about looking up at Ryan from between Ryan’s legs. It must be on her face though since Ryan actually averts her eyes.

“Soph....” Ryan’s voice strains. “Stop it.”

“Stop what?” Ryan started it with that ‘if you think this is good’ comment. She is not putting this back on Sophie.

Ryan groans, flustered in a way that should not look as cute as it does. “You know what! You — we — just look over there.” She takes a hand off Sophie to point back at the TV. “I am trying to be a good friend right now. To both of you.”

And there goes the fun. Sophie turns back to the TV. She really has no idea what’s happening in this movie. She doesn’t want to ask either. They’re damn near fifteen minutes in. She’s not going back in the movie, or with life. She’s not going to break down over losing Kate again. She has no reason to. She’s spent more time with Ryan this week than she did with Kate. She’s fine.

Ryan clears her throat. “Talking with her today was, like, everything I’d imagined it would be. She’s funny and witty, and she has great taste in everything. Present company included. I can see why you’d love her. And why it would be easier to not try to deal with those feelings of loss all over again.”

Sophie drops her head back against the couch. Her ceiling’s not nearly as interesting to look at as Ryan. Or Kate. “Do we have to do this?”

“We’re not doing anything else so….” Her narrowed eyes say exactly what she means by ‘anything else.’

“There are other things, Ryan.” Besides giving in to the tension that flares between them, besides shifting an already unstable dynamic past its breaking point. Probably many, many times.

Ryan holds her hands together in her lap. “Well, you’re clearly not interested in the movie, so: your call. What does the great Sophie Moore want to do with her break up night?”

Sophie’s eyes dance as she gets up to kneel in front of Ryan. (Yes, Ryan glances at her through what looks like a haze of lust and concern. Yes, she blinks, and all that emotion slips back under the base gleam in Ryan’s eyes. No, Sophie does not want to think about how many times Ryan might’ve looked at her like this without ever noticing.)

“Well, Ryan Wilder, there is one thing that I have been dying to do.”

.

.

“You have to— Sophie, please listen before we end up falling.” Ryan glares up at Sophie. They’re standing on a building that Ryan says is the best jumping point to the Bat-roof. It’s lower down, which is probably why Sophie has never seen either of the Batwomen coming.

Ryan’s face is torn between excitement and dread at sharing her red and black baton with Sophie. She repeats for the third time which button to press to shoot the grappling hook, how to angle the body, and how to land so they don’t fall off the roof.

“I’m listening,” Sophie swears. She adjusts her stance so her feet are wide like Ryan instructed. She angles her body towards the other roof — their roof. She takes a steadying breath and gently plucks Ryan’s hand off the other end of the baton.

Ryan steps in to wrap her arms around Sophie’s waist. “You have to brace yourself for landing. And please do not let go of me. I’m holding on, but—”

“I won’t let go,” Sophie assures her. She wraps her left arm around Ryan and holds tight to the baton with her right. Okay, another steadying breath, and she jams her thumb into the button. The wire flies out, and in a breath, they soar up through the air. Wind whips around them, and Ryan squeezes so tight that her face is nearly in Sophie’s chest.

For her assurances, Sophie does not stick the landing. She stumbles the moment the wire ends, and Ryan stumbles with her. Both of them clatter onto the Bat-roof with a groan and a laugh and a tangle of limbs that ends with them side by side on the roof’s floor.

The air around them is quiet and warm and still has a hint of the smoke from all the fires in Gotham yesterday. Sophie has the fleeting thought that it might be easier with Ryan than she ever expected. What ‘it’ is, well, Sophie blinks that away.

She props herself up on her elbows. “Can we go again?”

Ryan laughs. “No recovery period with you.”

Sophie gets up and offers her hand to Ryan, who takes it without hesitation. She tugs harder than she needs to. Ryan pops up with little more than a breath between them. She uses her free hand to tuck Ryan’s hair behind her ear. Lets her finger trail down Ryan’s neck.

Sophie whispers, “Oh, Wilder, you have no idea.” Ryan’s dramatic groan of reply makes Sophie laugh harder than she has all day. "Come on, round two."

Ryan pouts as Sophie heads for the stairs. Ryan points out, "I normally just jump off."

"What's the rush?" Sophie holds the door open for Ryan to come with her. "We've got all the time in the world."

/

/

a/n: We made it through season two, and I love these two so much. What about you?

[xaphrin]

“You’re not wearing that… are you?”

Raven looked down at herself in confusion. She was wearing what she always did for a Saturday night, leggings and an oversized Gotham University sweatshirt she got at some welcome event freshman year. Her lips twisted in annoyance and she lifted an eyebrow, knowing where Donna was going to take this conversation. “Is there something wrong?”

“You’re going on a date!” Donna slammed the heel of her hand into her forehead and groaned, rolling her eyes to the ceiling. “A date. With Damian Wayne, the richest college student in the entire country, and you’re wearing a free sweatshirt, three year-old leggings, and boots you’ve repaired with Gorilla Glue. You cannot be serious.” 

Raven rolled her eyes and began hunting through their living room to find her purse. She wasn’t sure why Donna cared so much, it’s not like Damian actually liked Raven. He tolerated her at best, and despised her at worst. “I highly doubt he’s going to give a fuck about what I’m wearing. He doesn’t even like me, remember? The only reason he’s taking me on this stupid date is because of contractual obligation. In fact he’s probably going to stop and get fast food and then kick my ass out two blocks away from our house so he doesn’t have to deal with the shame of being seen with me.” 

Outside a car door slammed and Karen offered a low whistle as she stood by the front window. “Uh… Rae?”

Raven picked up her head, feeling a pen slide out of her messy bun and clatter to the floor. “What?”

“You… might want to rethink your clothing choices because… hoo boy.”

Raven walked to the window and pulled the curtain back. Her heart fell into her stomach and she was pretty sure she stopped breathing. Eyes fluttering, she took a long few seconds to admire the man walking up the pathway to their house. Damian Wayne was coming to get her for their date, and he looked like he had stepped straight out of a magazine and onto her sidewalk. He was wearing gray trousers and black button-down, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and the muscles in his forearm bulged as he walked - how was that possible? She knew he was built, but damn… she didn’t realize she could find forearms sexy. 

His impossibly verdant eyes flicked up to the window and locked gazes with her, his lips pulling down into a frown. Raven stumbled back from the window, the curtain falling over the glass. Panic flooding her system, she turned to Donna and stumbled through a series of confused noises, before she managed to finally speak. 

“Dress. I need a dress.” 

“On it.” Donna grabbed her hand and led her up the stairs to her room. “Bee, keep Lover Boy busy while I fix…” She looked Raven up and down for a moment before shaking her head. “... this.”

Karen gave her a salute, a bright grin filling her face. “You got it, chief.”  

Raven didn’t even have the energy to be insulted at Donna’s choice of words. All she could think about was how Damian Wayne was standing on her front porch, looking like a fashion model with the full intention of taking her out on a date. She stumbled along the upstairs hallway until Donna pulled her into her room, setting Raven on the bed. 

“We’ve got about seven minutes to get you looking like you are going on a real date.” 

Downstairs Raven could hear the door open and Karen invited Damian inside. Their voices were muffled, but Karen was obviously talking about the business ethics class they had together. Raven’s heart leapt into her throat and she stared at Donna as she pulled a dress out of the back of her closet, setting it on the bed with a pair of low-heeled shoes. 

“Why is he dressed like that? Why?” She pitched forward and buried her head in her hands, groaning. “This was supposed to be a stupid joke. He wasn’t supposed to actually take me out on a date… and dress up for it.” 

“Maybe…” Donna said with a sigh as she grabbed her make-up bag from her vanity. “And hear me out on this, Rae. Maybe he likes you.” She patted a little cover up under Raven’s eyes, trying to hide the evidence of her late-night study sessions. “Maybe he’s liked you for years, but you two are so dimwitted and emotionally constipated that you can’t even admit that you like each other, so you’ve got this ridiculous, over-the-top rivalry going on when what you should really be doing is just fucking each other senseless.” Donna swiped mascara on Raven’s eyes, grimacing. “Just maybe.” 

“First of all.” Raven glared at her, her lips pulling down in a frown. “He doesn’t like me. He tolerates me, and just barely.” She pulled off her sweatshirt and leggings, reaching for the dress Donna had pulled out. “Secondly, I am not emotionally constipated.”

Donna wrinkled her nose and stared down at her. “Are those the underwear you’re wearing?”

Raven looked down at her plain, faded cotton underwear with a hole near the waistband. She wrinkled her nose. “Yes. They’re my favorite. And if I have to sit through the most uncomfortable dinner of my life, then at least my crotch is going to be comfortable.” 

“I can’t believe I have to tell you how wrong it is that you’re wearing that underwear.” Donna’s face fell into her hand and she went to her dresser, handing her something black and lacy. “I have a new pair I just bought. Never been worn.” 

“It’s not like he’s going to see my underwear, Donna.” Raven rolled her eyes and pushed the underwear away. “I’m not wearing those.” 

“Raven.” Donna pitched her voice dangerously low and bent down to stare into her eyes, a darkness swirling there. “You are going to wear the damn underwear, or so help me god, I will throw you down on this bed and change you like a baby.” She shoved the lacy underwear into Raven’s hands. “Now shut up and wear the fucking panties.”

Raven flushed and quickly changed her underwear before pulling the dress on over her head. She shoved her feet into Donna’s shoes, noting they were a size too big. Oh well. She had no choice to make it work, it wasn’t like Raven had any kind of dress clothing of her own. The last time she wore something even remotely formal was to her induction into the English department’s honor society two years ago. 

Donna pinned back her hair into a fancy messy bun, and stepped back to look at her. Her lips twitched and she tugged at the loose fabric around Raven’s breasts. “Mm… I can’t believe you don’t have a push-up bra.”

Raven gave her a flat stare, trying not to be jealous of her best friend’s curves. “Shut up.” 

She glanced down at her small cleavage, barely filling out Donna’s dress. Suddenly she felt weird, like she wasn’t quite herself in a borrowed outfit and borrowed make up. Part of her wished she had just stayed in her leggings and sweatshirt, but she didn’t want to embarrass herself either. Damian would never let her live it down if she went out on a date with him looking like she did when she crawled out of bed and went to class on a Monday morning. 

With a defeated sigh, she stared at herself in the full-length mirror. “I look… fine. Better than before, so… it’s something.”

“Mm.” Donna eyes her carefully for a moment before going to her vanity and handing Raven a tinted lip balm and a few condoms. “Here. Tuck these in your purse.”

“Donna! I am not sleeping with Damian Wayne.” Raven glared at her, taking the lip balm, but ignoring the condoms. “I would rather choke at dinner.” 

“Your wandering eyes at the auction say otherwise. It wasn’t exactly like he was able to hide the massive python between his legs, and I definitely noticed some appreciation there.” Donna shoved the condoms into her hand and walked to the door, motioning Raven out. “But what do I know? I’ve just been your friend for the past four years.” She gave a one-shouldered shrug as Raven walked past, smirking. “And if your date goes horribly awry, then you can use them as water balloons and chuck them at his pristine, foreign car.”

Raven snorted, a small smile pulling at her lips. Whatever tension had been growing between them dissolved and Raven took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. She couldn’t believe she was doing this. What had she been thinking? Agreeing to a date with Damian Wayne? It would have been easier to sign her own death warrant. 

Donna nudged her shoulder and gave her a small, teasing smile. “It’s gonna be fine. If it goes sideways, call me and Karen and I will be there in seconds to pick you up.”

That was comforting. At least she always had her friends to back her up. Raven nodded slowly and walked downstairs. Damian turned and looked at her, and for one brief moment he said nothing. His eyes roamed her face before glancing down the rest of her body. With a low hum, he leaned back on his heels and shoved his hands in his pockets. For a moment he looked like he was going to say something snide, and Raven was already hunting for a quick comeback. She refused to let him have the upper hand in any of their conversations. 

“I have to stop at the animal shelter before they close to drop off the money we raised.” He kept his voice surprisingly even, but there was a tension at the corner of his mouth. He was obviously just as annoyed as she was at having to take her out on a date. 

“Okay.” She nodded, trying to ignore Donna sneaking behind Damian and stuffing more condoms in her purse. Just how much sex did Donna think Raven was going to have? And none of it was going to be with Damian. 

“And then I made reservations for us at that new Italian place by the bay.”

Raven blinked, her eyebrows knitting together. “I thought they were booked up for three months?”

Damian lifted an eyebrow, and suddenly felt very silly. “Ah. Right. Wayne. I’m sure your clout could get you into Fort Knox on a moment’s notice.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to calm her nerves. She felt oddly jittery, like she was about to sizzle under the weight and heat of Damian’s unyielding stare. His lips twitched and his stare darted down her again. Raven pushed her feelings into the pit of her stomach and took a step forward. “Let’s get this over with.” 

He snorted and rolled his eyes. “Don’t sound so enthused. You’re the one that paid a thousand dollars for this.” 

“I didn’t pay a thousand dollars for you.” Yes she did, she just didn’t want to admit it. “I did it to save the kittens.” 

“Of course you did. And I’m sure making my life a living hell for one evening is just a nice, extra bonus.” He grabbed her hand and headed for the door, looking back over his shoulder as he dragged her along. “We’ll be back by eleven.”

“Or until I kill him.” Raven snorted. “Whichever is sooner.” 

Donna just crossed her arms over her chest and smirked. “Don’t forget your purse.”

Raven glared and snatched it off a nearby chair. Oh she was going to use the condoms tonight, to pelt Damian’s car with water balloons like he deserved. 

[itsmeevie01]

Bio!dad Bruce Day 7-Fashion Show

Marinette laughed as she linked arms with Alix and hurried out of school. Today, the girls had arranged to go out for the evening, and they were insistent that nothing would ruin their fun, even an akuma. As the shorter girls hurried away, Alya watched from where she stood on the steps. When she had transferred, she had hoped that the girl she had made a connection with would become her best friend. Now, as they neared the end of April, she had resigned herself to the fact that she wasn’t part of the other’s inner circle.

Although she was friendly with the entire class, Marinette had quickly proven to be hard to get close to. She had her life out of school, and she had her life in school. They didn’t mix.

Unknown to the rest of the school, Marinette’s birthday was coming up. Every year, she would do something small with Tom and Sabine. Sometimes she would invite a friend over. Mostly, she kept her birthday quiet. The teen knew that if she offered, her class would love to celebrate with her, but she didn’t see it as a big deal. three years earlier, Bruce had asked her if she wanted to do anything for her birthday. When she had mentioned that she didn’t really celebrate it that much, he had nodded in acceptance. Each year, he flew into Paris and took her out for a day of shopping, an amusement park, or a fancy dinner. This year, he had invited her to join him in Gotham so that her brothers could come along. Since the event earlier in the month, Bruce had been more at ease when talking about many of the things going on in his home city. Now that he knew that Marinette was already entrenched in the hero life that he had been working so hard to keep her out of, he had opened up about the times that the family had vanished during her visits.

When Marinette had eagerly agreed to join him in Gotham, Bruce had asked his daughter of she had any preferences on what they did. The girl, as expected, shook her head and told him to surprise her. As long as they were together, it didn’t really matter. Imagine her surprise, when she got home from her late-night movie with Alix, to find her parents waiting for her, both buzzing in excitement.

“Mariette! Oh good, we were afraid that you would be out later. Bruce got in contact with us, he is going to fly you our for the entire weekend, instead of just one day!” While the bakers continued to gush about how wonderful it was for Bruce to fly Marinette out for her birthday, the girl paused. Usually, as much as she enjoyed her brothers, they were very upfront with her. When she had asked if they knew what Bruce was planning, they had been cagey. Now, he was flying her out on a Thursday, and bringing her back on a Tuesday? That was a long time considering she still had school.

Later that week as she packed her carry on, the noirette crinkled her nose in concentration. She had been doing the best she could to figure out what it could be, but she still had found nothing on their plans for the next few days. Once she had finished, she plopped the bag next to her suitcase. Whatever her family had planned, she could only hope that she was ready for it.

The next day at school, Marinette rolled her eyes as Alya started to chatter at her. The girl was nice, yes, but Marinette had seen what had happened when she had started to zero in on information. Alya was not likely to let anything go, which sadly, meant that for the sake of her secret identity, Marinette had t keep her distance. When Nino plopped into his seat in front of her, he turned to flash Marinette a grin. “you ready for your trip, dudette?” Marinette smiled in return,

“So ready! I finished packing last night, so Maman is going to pick me up at noon. That makes sure I have a little under four hours to get on my plane.” Nino nodded in understanding.

“International travel is nothing to mess with. You may be joined by Chloe; she is flying out to visit her mother. Where are you flying into?”

“New York! They said that they would meet me there, and that we would head back after whatever surprise they’ve been planning.” Nino snickered at his friend’s frustration. It was well known within their friend group that the girl liked to know what was going on so that she could plan accordingly. The last time they had tried to surprise her, Kim had ended up with a broken arm, and Alix had gotten enough blackmail to last a lifetime. It was also pretty common for the girl to refer to her family in vague terms. As much as she trusted her friends, her class was more than willing to dig into her personal life in an attempt to force friendship. Because of this, Marinette tried to keep her personal life a vague as possible. In situations like this, she was grateful that Nino understood what she meant, because Alya had caught onto their conversation and started to ask as many questions as she could. Thankfully, Chloe must have gotten the notice from Nino to rescue her, because the blonde swaggered into the room and made a beeline for the duo’s desk.

“So, Mari trash, what this I hear about you leaving the country?” while Alya bristled at the name that the heiress had thrown out, Marinette sent her friend a secret smile. Chloe sent her a nod before returning to riling up Alya until Madame Bustier made her way in, effectively shutting down all conversations.

The girls giggled as they hurried through the airport. When they had realized that they were on the same flight, they had agreed to meet up at the airport and wait out the extra time together. As the duo sat there, they chatted and traded pictures, and discussed fashion. When Chloe mentioned that her mother was taking her to meet a ‘rich client who she wont name. Ridiculous!’ Marinette paused. “Chloe, that’s not the only reason that your flying out, right?” the blond gave an undignified snot.

“Honestly Mari, I wish! She’s dragging me to her ‘secret fashion show for the ages’ as she calls it.” Soon the girls were giggling and discussing the latest trends. When the flight attendants called for first class, the two girls gather their bags and made their way over to the line that was forming. When they had gotten settled (conveniently next to each other, which spoke of manipulation to Marinette, although she refrained from mentioning it to the diva next to her), they each pulled out a book and got ready for their flight. Thankfully, they both made the transatlantic flights enough to know what to expect.

 That evening, when they arrived, the girls hurried to get through security and collect their bags. As they exited the baggage claim, both girls started to scan for their rides. On one side of the airport, was Audrey Bourgeois’ personal assistant. Next to her stood the stately figure of Alfred Pennyworth. While Marinette threw herself at Alfred in a hug, Chloe nodded to the frazzled looking brunette who had greeted them. The girls hugged and parted ways, promising to meet up on Monday if they didn’t see each other before hand.

While Chloe settled in her mother’s penthouse, Marinette was buried in a pile of hugs from her brothers. When they had finally given her room to breathe, her father introduced her to a girl who had been standing nearby. Cassandra (her sister!!) smiled at her and waved shyly. Marinette had sent her a smile worthy of the sun and given the girl a hug in return.

The next morning, the two girls were the first to join Alfred in the kitchen. Was Marinette caught Alfred up on the last few months, she started to help him with breakfast. Cassandra (Cass, Marinette scolded herself) settled on a stool to watch her move through the kitchen with a fluidity that spoke of many, many hours of experience. Once Bruce and they boys had joined them, the group settled at the dining table.

When the food had been cleared up, Marinette turned to her father, “you know, you made it really hard to pack for this trip, when I had no idea what we are going to do!” Bruce smiled at her ire and easily brushed aside her worries.

“it’s a good thing that we’re going shopping then, isn’t it, Marinette?” the way the girls face lit up made Tim snort.

“B, you really shouldn’t have said that, now she’s not going to sit still for the rest of the day.” The teen made a face at the look sent his way and Marinette huffed at her older brother.

“At least I know how to dress myself nicely without having someone pick my clothes out for me!” Dick sniggered at her response before wincing as she directed her fury his way. “don’t think I’m ignoring you, Richard.” The man froze, because his sister had used his first name only once and that occasion was not to be brought up unless the world was ending. “your fashion choices are even worse than Dad’s!” As the family started to argue about the validity of her statements, Marinette slipped away, beckoning for Cassandra (Cass!) to follow her.

Once they were in Marinette’s temporary room, the girl handed her sister (!!) a small wrapped package. “Tim gave me a heads up that there was a new addition to the family, and I wanted to make something for you.” The other girl studied her for a moment before hesitantly ripping the paper. Inside was a small journal that was leather bound and had the name Cass written in an elegant script (A/N Cass is probably the character that I am the least familiar with the origin of. That said, I’m going to run off the assumption that she is learning to read when she is brought to join n the Wayne family. If I am wrong, lmk, for now, this is what we are vibing with). The quiet girl gave Marinette a tentative hug as a thank you before Tim knocked on the doorframe.

“Time to go, ladies. Your chariot awaits.” Marinate rolled her eyes at their brother while throwing a pair of balled up socks at him.

“We’re coming, boy genius. Be fearful though, this is the start of an alliance. Soon, maybe ill be able to finally compete against you boys on game night without rigging the games!” Tim spluttered at her declaration as she strode past him. He huffed and hurried after the girls, bemoaning Bruce for making this trip a ‘family affair’.

Three hours later, Tim and Dick were each carrying handfuls of shopping bags, as the family of five re-entered their temporary living space. The girls were walking together, Marinette explaining some of her ideas for different designs. Alfred smiled at them as they all stood talking together, until an unfamiliar ringtone broke the low ambiance. The brothers looked at each other in confusion, while Bruce raised an eye at his youngest daughter. The girl flushed in embarrassment and dug into her purse for a long moment before pulling out a phone that was very obviously not her own. “hey! Is everything ok?” her immediate switch to French made the others pause and zero in on her conversation. “Oh, you caught it. How much damage was there?” A pause and then, “do I need to- I know I’m supposed to be on vacation but- oh fine! Leave it on my balcony in the jar, ill take care of as soon as I can.” A beat, and the girl made a face at whatever the person on the other end of the phone said. “stay safe, and call me if you need me, yeah?” once she had hung up, the girl turned back to them with a raised eyebrow. “what? Are you saying you don’t have a second phone for emergencies?”

The next day, Saturday, was a whirlwind, as Alfred got everyone up and moving by7 am. When asked what was going on by Marinette, the butler simply smiled and moved to lure Dick out of bed. When the family was once again gathered around the breakfast table, Marinette turned to her father and demanded an explanation at the reason for a wakeup call before what she considered ‘reasonable hours’. The man smiled in return, “Today, Marinette, we are going to celebrate your birthday. As promised, this year, the entire fairly will be able to join in.” the girl protested at his declaration.

“what was yesterday? I thought that was us celebrating my birthday without going overboard!” Dick laughed at her shock before jumping into the conversation.

“well, Net, yesterday was part one. Today is part two…and the part that we think you’ll like the most.” At her confusion, Tim leaned over from his spot across the dining table, pushing a stack of six tickets towards her,

“were going to Audrey Bourgeois’ secret fashion show.” The screech that came from the youngest in the family was well worth the suspense.

As the family approached the hidden venue, Marinette felt excitement bubble up once again. She had spent the day making sure that the entire family was dressed appropriately for the event. Somehow, Bruce had managed to buy a dress on the sly for her, after catching her gazing longingly at it for the duration of their time in the shop. As for the others, for the most part, they had the necessary pieces to put together a look that would be presentable at the secret show. The door was opened once they had handed over their tickets, and the Wayne family were handed a stack of passes that they hurriedly settled around their necks as they were show their way to their seats.

When the catwalk lit up, Marinette sat there, frozen, anticipating the beginning of the show. The lights blacked out, and a spotlight followed the first model on her way towards the middle of the room. Marinette’s breath caught in shock at the beauty of the coat that was trailing down the runway. As the next model made his way out, Marinette lost herself in the world of fashion.

 After, Bruce turned to the girl and raised an eyebrow, “so…was this too over the top for your birthday?” the 14-year-old smiled at her father.

“no,” she breathed, “it was perfect”

whew! that was a long one! obviously, this one is not compleate, but it’s other half is going to be coming soon! any feedback is more than welcome, im going to try to keep these a little longer if i can...

also, what did y’all think of Alya? i’m not her biggest fan, but didnt want to make her a villian? 

[scaryscarecrows]

Child Safety 101

AN: Continuation of ‘I Think I’ll Just Collapse Right Here, Thanks’, found in Why Do They Kick Me?

Note: Mark is a trauma surgeon, not a GP, but he’s also the only one Jason will let within doctoring range, so.

* * *

The Knight has been down and unresponsive for literal days. The first day was the diciest, because even Mark hadn’t been totally sure if he’d pull through, but his fever had gone down enough to remove him from the danger zone.

Once it had become apparent that he wasn’t going to die on them-because Antoine’s sorry, but no way is he continuing this crusade in the guy’s memory or whatever, if the boss dies, he is leaving-, they’d had a meeting and, essentially, made a chore chart for who had Knightwatch, who had Armywatch, and who got to nap.

It’s a fairly efficient rotation. And so far, at least, they’ve managed to keep the news of, well, everything under wraps. All the men know is that the boss is down but that he will be fine, carry on as normal. They don’t know that the helmet’s off.

And. Oof. Of all the crackpot theories they’ve jokingly tossed around, this wasn’t one of them. Antoine’s not sure which one he’s more stuck on: the fact that the boss is a teenager, or the fact that the boss is-was-Robin. They’re so intertwined that it doesn’t really matter, it’s just…

Antoine is not a parent. He’s happy to keep it that way; the best part of uncle-ing is dosing them up on sugar and releasing them back to the parents. So he doesn’t really get the whole ‘electrical outlets are a Great Danger’ thing. But he does get, maybe a little better than your average parent, the sick, twisted fucks of society. He’s worked with a handful. Spoken with more. He still remembers, years after the fact, that one guy...he ate people. Literally. He’d put a toddler in the oven-alive-and…

Yeah.

But this is a little different. This is...it’s one thing to hear about it. It’s another thing to be faced with it. And it’s another thing entirely to see it. That fucking tape, man…

He stretches out a bit, pops his back and rubs a hand over his side, feeling rough scar tissue. What a week. What an absolute hell of a week.

He’s on Knightwatch now, because everything outside is moving smoothly without him and Frank really, really needs the nap. The boss is finally sleeping peacefully, curled up on his side with one arm flung up to shield his face. He’s still shivering on and off, and he sounds congested as all get out, but the worst of it is over. No more screaming, no more pleading.

What now? He supposes they’ll stay the course, but he’s not sure, not really. Maybe this is the end. Maybe the boss will vanish in the middle of the night.

Jesus, that explains so much. Batman taught him all this weird shit. Batman...this is, arguably, entirely Batman’s fault. What sort of weirdo...never mind. Never mind.

As ever, he figures, this is a nasty combination of neglectful adult and opportunistic predator. This is the same thing as that one girl in his sister’s apartment complex that got kidnapped. Six years old, mother said, ‘yes, yes, go play by the road alone!’ and she got abducted and murdered. Somebody should have been watching her.

Somebody should have been watching the boss.

Doesn’t matter. People are watching him now, at least, whether he likes it or not.

He coughs and rolls over, one arm slipping off the bed. Antoine sighs and puts it back, straightens the sheets out like he’s seen Frank and his sister do, and wonders what’s going to happen now.

They could, he supposes, figure out who he-and by extension, Batman-is. Jimmy could run a facial recognition at the minimum. But they haven’t, and they don’t really intend to. Curious as they are, they owe him their lives and...and no matter how this turns out, he’s their boss and they won’t.

Antoine’s sort of lost in thought, caught up in memories of that little girl (what was her name?) and the cannibal and the utter confusion of everything, when the Knight suddenly jerks upright like he’s gonna make a break for it.

“Shit--”

He twists over and only feels a little sorry for forcing the Knight back down. The sorry feeling vanishes when the boss tries to fight him.

“No--”

“You gotta be kidding me--” It’s not much of a fight, but he’s still trying, which is incredibly unfair. “How even--there.”

Okay. There’s no easy weapons in here, which is all he can ask for. He’s not interested in being held at gunpoint again, thanks.

“You back with us, sir?”

The Knight’s quiet, breathing hard and seemingly very interested in the ceiling.

“We have an intruder,” he says, voice carefully flat. “I want every available unit search--”

Uh-huh.

“You wouldn’t have held this intruder at gunpoint, would you, sir?”

Silence. That’s what he thought. They’re professionals, for heaven’s sake. People don’t just get into their super-secret hidden base. That just doesn’t happen. Their own people have gotten lost trying to find their way back to it! Intruder, humph. That hurts.

…

Yeah, okay, he’s trying to maintain the facade of normalcy. Like. The helmet’s off, man, any weird-ass theories anybody’s had have now been put to rest in favor of the truth. But both of them are probably going to be happier if they just pretend that nothing has changed.

(Which is half-true. Baby Robin or not, the guy’s still scary.)

“What day is it,” he finally says, voice scarcely above a whisper. Antoine hits the call button.

“March third, sir.”

“Shit.”

Yup.

There’s no good response to that and the boss goes slack, one arm flung over his face. A minute later, Mark throws open the door with a grumpy, “What the fuck was that.”

“I--”

“Went the fuck down in the middle of the day thanks to a one-oh-four degree fever,” Mark seethes. “You have. The goddamn. Flu. People die from the flu, straight-up die, and you didn’t think to mention it! I’m not asking for much here. Just a little heads up. Y’know, ‘hey, Jones, I’m feelin’ pretty crappy, think you can poke your head in to make sure I didn’t die in the night?’ ‘Oh, sure thing, boss, happy to help, feel better!’” The smile he plasters on is frightening. The boss doesn’t like it, not one bit, and to Mark’s credit, he drops it pretty quick. “What were you thinking? Anything? Really, I’d love your thought process.”

“‘ve handled worse on my own,” the Knight mumbles, somewhere between sheepish and stubborn. “Thought a walk would clear my head.”

Sad thing is, Antoine believes him. The brand alone is not pretty, and while Mark hasn’t said much, what he has shared is disturbing.

And. Well. It’s not like the boss has been totally silent for the past few days. Once or twice he’d woken up screaming, the kind of awful sound Antoine associates with three-feet-thick walls and Professionals. Hell, Mark had collared Trent to come and look at something, and while neither of them are sharing, that’s Bad. Trent’s not a doctor, but he knows how to hurt people...and what they look like after.

“Well, it made you worse. You’re lucky you didn’t kill someone or yourself, parading around like that. Aight, you sit up, you clear out.”

Gladly.

“Feel better, sir,” he says. “We’ve got things handled out here, so just get some rest.”

“Oh, he doesn’t have a choice. Come on, up-up...be lucky if I let you out of my sight again after this...f’I have to give you weekly check-ups, that’s what’ll happen…”

Fuck Batman, Antoine thinks tiredly. This is his fault, things never should have advanced to the point that his...sidekick...kid...whatever ended up like this. How is Gotham not screaming about kids and guns anyway, huh? That just seems like Child Safety 101. He certainly makes sure all his toys are locked up tight when the niblings are over. He sure as hell wouldn’t give them a dull knife and tell them to, like, fight a trained mercenary. That seems like a terrible idea.

Whatever. It’s not going to go any farther. Boss he might be, but he’s just not going to be allowed to be an idiot, that’s all there is to it. No more vanishing off somewhere for three days, he’ll just have to check in or something. Frank can bully him about that. It’s for his own damn good.

THE END