#Talia: I made Batman the perfect weapon

[justanotherfanwriter]

Damian: It is such a cloudy day.

Dick, over the comm link: Good, Robin, but when I said talk to her, I meant empathize with the survivor. Her son just passed away.

Damian: I’m sorry your son died on such a cloudy day.

Woman: *crying intensifies*

Dick, over the comm link: . . . Okay, sure, we’ll work on that.

[elizabethemerald]

Don't Sneak up on People with Swords

@im-totally-not-an-alien-2 made a prompt about Danny sneaking up on Jason Todd and @sky00asara made a comment in the tags about what would happen if Danny did that to Talia. So here is my version of that! Enjoy.

Talia al Ghul watched her beloved from afar. He was out, again patrolling his city for those he considered wrong doers. Her son was by his side. She scowled at how Damian’s fighting style had changed, softened in the company of her beloved. Despite her love for the man under the cowl, he had a tremendous ability to take even the most ruthless of killers and change them to spare the undeserving. He had even tried it with her. 

She was hidden on the roof of an abandoned tower nearby. The tower had succumbed to fire and was now condemned until the city got around to destroying it properly. For now it made the perfect place for her to observe her beloved and her son work undisturbed. 

“Excuse me?” 

Talia whirled, drawing her blade as she spun. Her blade moved fast enough to almost cut the air itself yet the small shape ducked under her stroke and back-pedaled quickly to move out her range. 

“Jeez! Why is everyone in this city so jumpy!” 

The voice more than anything made her realize that the person who had somehow snuck close enough was an actual child. Their black hair and blue eyes made her wonder if this was another of her beloved’s adoptees. Except surely this boy was too young to catch Bruce’s eye? 

“Well maybe you should not sneak up on people?” Talia hissed, her voice soft yet stern. To say nothing of how a child who couldn’t be older than five had snuck up on her at all. 

“Well maybe you shouldn’t brood on the roof of my home!” The child snarked back, just like one of the Bat’s brood would, completely unafraid of the blade still in her hand. Talia raised an eyebrow at him then looked around at the burnt skeleton of the building they were standing on. 

“This building is not fit for human occupation.”

“Neither was the last place I lived.” He said dismissively. “This place hasn’t even killed me yet, so it’s practically a paradise.” 

She was tempted to take the child’s words as sarcasm, yet something in the way he spoke made her think he meant it more truthfully. 

“You’ve died before?” Talia asked. She relaxed her hold on her blade, allowing it to rest at her side. 

“Oh yeah, I die all the time.” He said, then he looked at her curiously tilting his head first one way, then another. “You’ve died too, huh?” 

She nodded, now examining him closely, looking for the signs she would recognize. She could see the hint of a scar on the boy’s palm that might have caused a death. 

“What is it with this town that so many people have died and come back?” The boy asked, apparently rhetorically as he didn’t let her answer. “First the stabby Robin, then the stabby Batgirl, then Batman, and even Red Hood. It’s like everyone I run into is contaminated.” 

Talia’s eyes widened. 

“You can sense those who have utilized the Lazarus Pits?” She would have to inform her father about this child. He could put the entire League of Assassins at risk. The child before her just shrugged. 

“I have no idea what that is. Red Hood mentioned some kind of pit as well, but I’ve never seen anything like that. I just know y’all are contaminated with ectoplasm, though not enough to make a core.” 

“What is this… ectoplasm?” Another name for the Lazarus Waters? Had there perhaps been a Pit outside of League control? In the midwest somewhere based on the boy’s accent. 

“Oh it’s this stuff.” He held his hand out and Talia couldn’t help keep her expression of shock withdrawn despite all her training as his hand filled with the glowing green light of the Pits. He held the Pit Water in his hand then tossed the glowing orb to his other hand in a half juggle as if he weren’t carrying the League's greatest secret and weapon. 

Nevermind telling her father about this child, he could never learn of him. If Ras had the power this child had under his control the world would never survive. There was only one option. She needed to train this child to wield this strength. With the stealth he displayed in sneaking up on her and his power over the Pits themselves he could make an assassin like the world had never seen. He could be the next Head of the Demon under her guidance. She knelt down to the boy’s level, slipping her sword back away as she did so. 

“Tell me, young one. Are you living in this death trap of a building all by yourself?” 

“Yeah, but don’t worry, I’ve got it taken care of. I know I’m little, but that just means people are less likely to notice me. I’m able to steal all the food I need from that big box store down the street.” 

“Oh of that I have no doubt. My name is Talia al Ghul. What’s yours?” 

“Hmm. I’m Danny.” The boy seemed hesitant to trust her, which to be perfectly honest was probably a very smart thing to do, but at least she had a name for this gift of Lazarus. 

“Danny, how would you like to come live with me? You won’t have to steal any more, or worry about food ever again, and I could train you how to fight even better than the Bats.” 

He narrowed his eyes at her, looking her over closely. 

“Would I get a sword?” 

“If a sword is what you want, then once you were trained in its use I would acquire one for you.”

Danny looked like he was about to nod, but then he froze, his head tilting to the side as if he was listening to something. His eyes widened and Talia tensed. 

“Uh-oh. Fruit Loop incoming. I gotta go.” 

Talia half turned as she heard the sound of one of her beloved’s grappling lines catching on the building’s edge. By the time she had turned back to face him, Danny had completely vanished. She hadn’t even heard him leave. She stood and scowled as her beloved landed on the rooftop next to her. 

“Talia.” He grunted at her, glaring all the while. 

“Beloved. Must you ruin every nice thing in my life?” Talia snarled back. The boy, Danny, had the gift of Lazarus at his beck and call and Batman had scared him off. 

Bruce looked momentarily stunned at her fury, but quickly hid it behind his mask. However Talia couldn’t care less about her beloved right now. She just needed to lose him so she could return to find the boy. The boy who would change the world with his power. 

[lily-drake]

If you're still willing to take story ideas, I got one! Ra's and Talia are up to no good again and try to create a new heir with some leftover DNA of Bruce's. Only they don't have enough to make a male heir. Little Marinette does her best to please them during her years with them but things changed when the League base she's in is attacked and she's found by her other family, aka the batfam. "I'm gonna be Pixie's fav! Bet." "She's of my blood Todd! I am." is said once home

Stab or be Stabbed

I’m SO sorry this took so long! This has literally been sitting half completed in my doc for nearly a year now. I finally revisited it, and I then needed to make lots of changes because I didn’t like it anymore. But here it is, so please enjoy!

If you're still willing to take story ideas, I got one! Ra's and Talia are up to no good again and try to create a new heir with some leftover DNA of Bruce's. Only they don't have enough to make a male heir. Little Marinette does her best to please them during her years with them but things changed when the League base she's in is attacked and she's found by her other family, aka the batfam. "I'm gonna be Pixie's fav! Bet." "She's of my blood Todd! I am." is said once home

Damian had failed, he was flawed and easily swayed.  They needed to restart, they needed a new heir that would not and could not be so easily turned against them.  They still had some of Batman’s genetic material, but it wasn’t enough for a male heir.  Instead, they got a female heir with Bruce’s hair and eyes while she had Talia’s bone structure and facial features.  Ra’s was very disappointed when he found out, but he would make sure that she would be the perfect heir for The League of Assassins.  In the end, her gender did not matter, only the greater purpose she would serve.

Marinette was forced to train more and harder than Damian ever had.  Not that she knew who Damian was, in fact she didn’t even know that Talia was her mother.  She was raised by her weapons master Sabine Cheng; which meant that she always had to be on guard in case a stray knife tried to find its way into her gut or head.  It could have been worse though, it could have been poison master Omar.  She shivered at the thought; none of his students had lasted more than three months before they either died or deemed worthy enough to continue on their training.

Marinette was moved around a lot between Nanda Parabat, Lazarus Island, and Infinity Island.  She was trained in the coldest parts of the mountains, the hottest parts of the islands, she was even trained under the water.  She was trained barefoot, in heavy armor, in loose clothing, Talia made her learn to fight in dresses, and sometimes she was even forced to train fully naked; she hated that training most of all.  She was trained with every weapon imaginable: guns, swords, canes, throwing knives and needles, bladed fans, hand to hand, bo staff, etc.  The training that she hated the most was that of heightening her pain tolerance, but Talia and Master Cheng said it was of utmost importance that she go through it.  Afterall, she would need to learn how to stay silent no matter the cost if she was ever taken by someone with ulterior motives.

Marinette had many scars depicting her battles and failures, and it wasn’t until she was 8 that her true test came.  She had been transported to Infinity Island to undergo her annual desert/jungle survival training where currently, she was hidden under the dark canopy of the rainforest as her training started as soon as she stepped off the boat.  Suddenly, she saw people fall out of the sky from something invisible which triggered the scheming part of her mind. Marinette had hidden weapons all around the jungle in case her masters sent assassins to try and track her again.  It looks like she would now be using those weapons to defend her island as a whole rather than purely herself!  

Quietly she crept around and watched as the people in dark suites with strange symbols stared at each other, communicating without saying a word.  There were 5 people: a blonde girl with long blonde hair in a ponytail carrying a bow and a quiver of arrows strapped to her back.  A dark skinned man markings swirled around his arms.  A tall muscular black-haired man with a dark t-shirt with a bright red ‘S’ in a red triangle in the center.  A green skinned alien with fiery red hair (she’d need to be extra weary of her).  Finally a muscular yet lean man with a completely black suit with a dark blue bird centered on his sternum that spread out behind the back of his suit.  The last man set alarm bells ringing through her mind.  Mistress Talia had warned her about him.  She had ordered her to stay as far away from him, and a few others similar to him, as possible at all times.  She was told that he would kill her if he ever caught sight of her, that he wouldn’t rest until he had caught her, and she could under no circumstances fall into death’s hands.

She made slow steady steps back, she would have to tell her headmaster that invaders were on the island.  She made sure her steps were light and that her path was clear so she would not step on anything that would give her away.  But she always kept her sights on the people, and when she had to look back for just a second because she heard a rustle in the trees, they were all gone.

Marinette cursed silently as quickened her steps as she ran towards the sanctuary.  She had to warn the base leaders!  If she didn’t get there in time and they found out she knew, they would send her back to the basement.  She hated the basement!  It was dark and the screams echoed everywhere, and someone in the dark always hurt her and she never knew who!  She could still feel the sharp bite of a blade digging into her skin or the flames that bit her feet, and if she cried it would become so much worse!  Master Cheng said she had it easy, she said that other people would do worse to her if things were different, even if she didn’t know what that meant.  All the kids she saw on missions, they were just better at hiding their pain, and wasn’t that humiliating?!  Random children who were never trained by anyone were better at hiding their pain than her.  And despite the pain they must have all been in they were still so happy!  She was pathetic, but she would be better, she had to be!

As she ran something, or rather someone, dropped in front of her in a stance that showed they were ready for a fight.  Marinette glared and gripped at the dagger she had unburied from a nearby bush when she had first seen the people drop from the sky.  It was the man that Mistress Talia warned her about, the man that was going to kill her if he ever laid eyes on her!  But maybe she could kill him before he killed her.  Yes, that’s exactly what she would do!  She would defeat him and show Mistress how strong she is and that she is a worthy opponent.

The man’s body seemed to freeze for a second, and that was the only weakness she needed as she launched into her attack.  The man recovered from his shock and quickly dodged her strike.  His face was covered in a deep frown, and she couldn't help but wonder what his eyes looked like as they were covered by a black white-lensed mask.  Did they look at her with fury, hunger, disgust, malice?  He seemed… hesitant, which confused her as it didn’t make sense with how Mistress Talia had described him.  It didn’t matter though, because that would just make this victory so much easier to obtain.  She let the wind help guide her movements so that she would be able to gain more velocity at an accelerated pace as she gracefully let her body fall into the motions of battle like she had been trained to.  He seemed to move just as swiftly as her though, always just avoiding her, and that’s when it hit!  This was a distraction, he was just keeping her from alerting her masters!  She needed to find an opening to warn The League right now. 

So she launched again, but instead of attacking like the man predicted as he moved out of the way, she kept moving forward towards the base.  She moved through the path in seemingly random patterns, hoping that it would throw the man off her trail.  She had thought she had gotten ahead and lost him, but when she was just meters away she felt arms encircling her waist and moving her high into the treeline.  She struggled throwing her fists up, proud when she heard the person holding her grunt as she made contact with what must have been their lower jaw.  She used the slight distraction of the pain inflicted to draw her dagger and stabbing it into where she believed the invisible being’s forearm was located.  She watched as red bloomed seemingly out of nowhere, the arms around her letting go as the person screamed in pain.  Marinette caught herself from fully falling down the tree, catching herself as she swung from the branches.   

It didn’t take long for her to make it to the base after that, even shorter for her to find a patrolling assassin once she had made it to the fortress.

“Where are Lady Shiva and Mistress Cheshire?!  There are intruders on the island, and we must warn them post haste!”

Marinette commanded, watching for movement in the corner of her eyes.  She was pleased when the assassin let her in immediately rather than ignoring her request like many had in the past.  She watched the assassin ring the alarm and once that was done she went to search for her current trainers.  

She found Lady Shiva first, where she quickly reported everything that she had seen and everything that had happened as soon as she had noticed the mysterious people.

“You did well Marinette.  You will receive a just reward for your actions, now wait here until I return for you.”

Marinette wanted to fight back, to say that she should be allowed to fight the intruders with everyone else.  But she knew the consequences of questioning or disobeying a direct order, and it wasn’t worth it.  Placing her fist to her chest she bowed her head and said,

“Of course my Lady.”

And with that she was left alone in the large study only being able to listen to the fight and imagine herself in it rather than participate in it herself.  

It must have been hours as the sun had slowly begun to let a few of its rays shine through the small window on the far left side of the room, but it didn’t matter.  She had followed orders, and the base had finally begun to quiet which meant that someone should be retrieving her soon.  She could hear the steps before the door opened, but they were unfamiliar to her.  Quickly she hid behind the desk, gripping a throwing knife in her fist.  The door was pushed open and the person entered, and despite her curiosity, she didn’t dare to move, she barely allowed herself to breathe at this moment.  The person began to creep around the corners of the room allowing Marinette to see the reflection of the person through one of the many mirrors at the wall.  It was Mistress Cheshire.  But something was…off.  Not only was the sound (specifically the fact that she was making sound) and pattern of her footfalls different than usual, but there was the fact that if she allowed herself to make noise she would have been either mocking or gloating by now.  She only stayed silent when she was stalking, and it was obvious she wasn’t doing that, which meant that this person was an imposter.  Which meant that the intruders had breached the base!  

Marinette would only have one chance to get this right, one chance to avenge her fallen comrades, one chance to rid of this imposter, and she needed to take it.  Through the mirror she continued to watch the imposter, waiting until she was closer, closer, closer, and then the opening came.  The imposter was a few feet from the desk and her back was now turned away from her.  With silent grace Marientte let herself stand to her full height and silently threw the knife.  The intruder suddenly turned, as if they could sense her, but it was too late.  The dagger meant to hit the middle of the person’s back was now embedded in their sternum letting out a cry of pain.  Marinette watched, expressionless.     She watched as Lady Cheshire slowly faded back into the martian that had tried to grab her before.  She must have some sort of fast healing ability, which meant she would need to act quickly.  She watched as thick drops of red dripped from the wound.  The red ran down the knife like a small steam as it dropped from the tip of the hilt to the cold stone floor.  

The thought of taking her dagger back, ripping it from the martian, crossed her mind, but the reward of it wasn’t worth the risk.   She still had many more weapons located on her person anyways.  So on quick feet she fled the room, or at least she attempted to until the large muscular man stepped in front of her path, the look of pure rage written all over her features.  Marinette could feel a shudder rip through her spine at the unadulterated malice that showed through him, but Marinette knew better.  She just needed to find an opening and escape. 

“You.”

The man growled, it almost didn’t sound human.  But Marinette wasn’t cowed.  The man was far bigger than her, but that meant that she would have an easier time dodging his blows as it would take more effort to train his attacks specifically on her.  While he’s in the middle of an attack, or even recovering from one, she should be able to easily slip by.  There were many other hiding places she knew of, places so small only she would be able to fit, places so seemingly insignificant they wouldn’t even think of looking there.

“Superboy!”

A voice yelled from down the hall.  She needed to act now.  :Before she could do anything though, she was suddenly brought to her knees by a seemingly invisible weight with her hands trapped at her sides.  She looked behind her to see that the martian girl was already mostly healed, her knife tossed aside with blood still dripping off of it.  Marinette tried to fight through the invisible force, but it was useless as the rest of the entire group formed around her.

So this was how she died.  Ra’s and Talia would be so disappointed in her.  She had tried her best to avoid them, had done everything in her power to escape while still being useful.  But it was all for not.  She wouldn’t die with her head lowered though, she wouldn’t die with tears running down her face, she wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.  So as they looked at the other, still somehow communicating with each other with nothing but seemingly their eyes, she kept her head held high.  She watched as the man with the bright blue bird slowly bent down to her level, hands raised seemingly in surrender.  That threw her off.

“Hey there.  You put up quite the fight there.  Can you tell me your name?”

Marinette glared at the man, he must be taunting her.  There was no way he didn’t already know it when he so desperately wanted her dead.  So instead of answering the question she spat at him, almost letting her scowl turn into a smirk as the spit landed against his forehead causing him to frown in annoyance.  The man quickly wiped the spit away putting up a too sweet smile.

“That’s alright, you don’t have to answer right now.”

Right now was the cue, he expected her to tell him eventually.  That wouldn’t be happening though, she doubted that admitting her name would lead to anything good. 

“We’re gonna have to take you with us now.”  

Marinette bared her teeth at that, trying once again to fight through the invisible force holding her down.  She wasn’t sure if the weight was a mental black, so just in case it was she let some of her worst memories go through her mind.  Letting the pain she felt, the sound of echoing cries, the humiliation of those experiences wash through her.  Slowly the weight around her began to fade confirming her theory.  A few moments later the weight was completely gone, but with that gone the man who was talking to her quickly replaced it, holding her wrists above her head as he let his full weight fall over so that she couldn’t even budge.

“This place is awful.”

The martian said in a horrified whisper as she stared at Marinette, tears in her eyes.  It looked like she was looking at her with something akin to pity, and she hated it.  The man quickly grabbed onto both of her wrists with only one hand while the other went to a pocket on his belt.  Marinette struggled to escape, to find some room that would allow her some sort of advantage, but she was never able to find it.  She watched as the man brought out a small syringe and brought it to her neck.  She continuously tried to twist away from it, but someone held her head down.  Tears of fear filled her eyes no matter how hard she tried to hold them back.  She didn’t want to die, she wasn’t ready to die yet!  But what she wanted didn’t matter because the needle was stuck into her neck and the substance pushed into her blood.  A different type of invisible heaviness filled her, one that she couldn’t fight back with her memories, one that she would not be able to escape from because she was already asleep. ___________

Marinette’s eyes felt crusty and groggy.  She must have fallen asleep in the trees again.  Her throat was dry, and her head felt a little too slow.  She didn’t like that.  What she liked even less was the fact that there were other, unfamiliar voices above her.  With that she quickly shot up, looking for a weapon on her that wasn’t there.  If that didn’t make her feel like she was about to suffocate she didn’t know what would.  There were hands on her shoulders trying to push her back down, but she wouldn't let them.  Not killing her when they had the chance was their biggest mistake.  

“As your older brother I command you to calm down!”

A distinctly male voice harshly commanded her.  She wouldn’t have stopped fighting, but the “older brother” part threw her for a loop making her pause for only a moment.  Once that moment passed she was back to struggling for her freedom.

“What on Earth are you boys doing?!”

An older, more British voice, spoke loudly as if he were chastising children.  

“Now you back away from the young miss right this instant.  I know for a fact you boys would not wish to be awoken this way if you woke up somewhere new with people you’ve never met.”

The air around her shifted as the people around her seemingly moved away.  Slowly Marinette tried to catch her breath, her eyes clearing from this mist that was created in her blind panic.  She was in a medical area as she was laid on a cot surrounded by different types of medical equipment.  There were five men in the room with her, setting her on edge.  Her skin itched as she desperately wanted a dagger or weapon, anything would do at this point to cease the incessant nakedness she felt despite the fact she was fully clothed.  

She studied the men but only recognized one of them, the one who had drugged and kidnapped her.

“You.”

She growled, her voice thickly accented.  Usually she would be able to hide her Arabian accent far better, but the drug was still running its course through her system causing her brain to be slower, even with the adrenaline.

He was unmasked now, and was wearing casual clothing that she had seen others wear in her missions.  But she could now see his eyes, and instead of them holding some sort of gleeful cruelty, they showed sympathy and…worry?  It didn’t make sense…

She looked at the others, the man next to him reminded her of the muscular man she had seen with other man, but it couldn’t be.  This man was slightly taller, his hair shorter, face more scared and sharp edged, his eyes were also greener.  It reminded her of Ra’s eyes after he bathed in the Pit.  That thought made her want to shiver, so she quickly moved on to see a boy that looked like he hadn’t slept in a week.  He didn’t appear to be the greatest threat to her at the moment so she moved on.  They locked eyes, and Marinette couldn’t really think.  He looked, but it couldn’t, but had the same, but surely Talia would have told her, but if he was here with the people Talia warned her about she doubted that she would tell her.  Marinette couldn’t take her eyes off of him.

“I am Damian, we took a DNA test while you were asleep.  I am your brother.  If you do not believe me, here is the proof.”

He said while carefully handing her a small tablet.  And there it was, she tried to check for any signs that this was fake, a trick.  Was it hacked, was it photoshopped, was it all an illusion.  But it wasn’t.  

“I’m Marinette.”

“Do you know your last name?”

Damian asked, brow raised as surly she would know her status.

“I was told that I must earn the knowledge of my last name.  I have not done that yet.”

Damian nodded as if he understood.  Maybe he had to do the same, afterall, Talia had told her that other people lived worse lives than she did, punished worse than she.  She wondered what he must have gone through, what these people put him through.

“What did you do to earn your name?”

She whispered, so transfixed on the eyes that looked exactly like Talia’s but had the same shape and features of her own.  She was so transfixed that she hadn’t even noticed him coming closer and bending down before her.  She blamed the drug for that because was always much more aware of these things.

“I was forced to kill all of the dragon bats, but thankfully one survived.”.  He lives with us now.”

He said with sorrowful regret.  

“If we truly are related, does that mean that we share the same surname?”

Marinette asked, filled with both hope and suspicion.  She noticed from the corner of her eye that another man had entered the room.

“Yes.  Your last name in the League would have been al Ghul.”

Marinette gasped in shock, truly she had not been expecting that.  She was an al Ghul, she was Ra’s granddaughter, Mistress Talia’s daughter, or maybe mistress Nyssa’s daughter.  

“Your last name here is a better one, one I doubt they ever told you about.”

Marinette didn’t understand what he meant.  She should only have one last name, shouldn’t she?

“Your last name here is Wayne, and it is a far better name to carry.  One that you should be proud to wear as it holds far more worth than al Ghul ever will.”

Marinette glared at him, wishing that she had some sort of weapon to rip out his traitorous tongue, but she didn’t and anything that she could have used in this room as a weapon was removed far away from her reach.  They were smarter than she gave them credit for.  

“Say that again and I’ll find a way to kill you in the slowest and most painful way I know possible.”

A high pitched whistle sounded behind them, where she looked up to see the tall muscular man smirking.

“She really is your sister.  It’s a shame that I’m going to be her favorite brother.”

The man said arrogantly.  Damian scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“As if.  I am her blood brother, I shall be her favorite.”

Damian declared haughtily.

“Bet.”  

The man who kidnapped her declared with a playful smirk on his face.

“I’m the one who rescued her, so I must be her favorite.”

The man who had just walked in sighed heavily.  He was the second oldest after the older man watching from the sidelines.  She studied him and his features felt familiar, but it was his eyes that caught her off guard.  His eyes were the same as her eyes, but how was that possible?  Unless…unless this was truly her father.

“Hello sir.”

Marinette said as she bowed her head, addressing the man that might be her father.  The man slowly approached her, taking Damian’s place.

“Hello Marinette, it’s good to meet you, though I wish it was under better circumstances.”

He said softly, a small smile on his lips.  He looked stiff and awkward, like he didn’t know what he was to do or say.  Marinette didn’t shy away though, she made eye contact and didn’t dare look away.  

“Why was I brought here?  I was told that I would be killed if I was caught by you,”

Someone snickered at that in the background, but she ignored them.

“So why am I still alive, why am I not being treated like a prisoner?”

Marinette demanded.  She could tell from all of their body language that they weren’t goin got hurt or attack her.  They were unarmed, at ease, if not just a little tense.  

“You are no prisoner here.  In fact we are here to protect you now.  You don’t have to fear any retaliation or purposeful acts of physical malice.  I know you don’t believe me now, but everything will be okay.”

Marinette didn't know how to feel.  Didn’t know what she was supposed to do now that she was surrounded by all of these people, two of whom claim to be her blood relatives.  Marinette didn’t know what was to happen now, but if push came to shove, she would gladly take all of these people out and find a way to return back to the League.  She did not fear these people, and despite the fact that she could tell that they didn’t fear her, she hoped that they would soon come to understand why they should.

Taglist:

@aespades @adrestar @astrynyx @doll246 @queenz-z @toodaloo-kangaroo @crazylittlemunchkin @seraphichana @miraculous-ninjabird @dorkus-minimus @mysticsoulgirl @ritacrow-blog @snow-leopard-777 @fidget-eep @sometandomstuff333 @lady-phoenix-of-tardis @shreeing @achaoticmess1 @liquid-luck-00 @buginetye @stainedglassm @prettylittlebutterflie @laurcad123 @iloontjeboontje @heartsong18 @raeuberprinzessin @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks @jennifer-rose123 @moon5608 @corporeal-terrestrial @skitarii-alpha-c6-555 @saltysugarysembei @phantom120 @kking13 @depressed-bitchy-demon @a-slytherinish-gryffindor

[dauntless-gothamite]

Bane

A/N: Hey, everyone! So, you may have noticed I reblogged posts about the Baneuary event that will be going on next month over at @baneuary​. I’m really excited to participate. That said, I will be writing for Bane using a version of the character that I created, which blends what we are given in the comics and Tom Hardy’s version in The Dark Knight Rises film, so I am creating this post to clarify a little bit about what lore from each canon I will be using for the character and what I have added for the sake of fluidly blending the two versions of Bane. 

Early Life: Bane was born on the island of Santa Prisca, where was raised and learned to hone his mind and body into the perfect weapon. Santa Prisca, an island in the Caribbean, experiences a lot of turmoil and dispute, often motivated by tension between the white colonizers and the original occupants, both of which Bane has parental ties to (his father is Latino and his mother is white). Ra’s al Ghul, the leader of the League of Shadows, decided this island was a cancer on the world and that it needed to be destroyed, but before destroying the island completely, he recruited Bane into the League of Shadows, having noticed his strength, intelligence, and brutality. It is at this point that he was relocated to the Pit--which is located in the Middle East--and met Talia. He became something of a protector to Talia, and after he helped her escape from the Pit, he was attacked. The doctor in the Pit tried to help him, but his efforts only made the damage worse. Since then, Bane has worn the mask, which keeps a gaseous medicine in circulation, to stave off what would otherwise be constant agony. He has spend years refining the medicine and eventually incorporated a super-steroid called Venom, which made his already powerful body superhumanly strong. 

Powers and abilities: superhuman strength, genius-level intellect

Allies: Talia al Ghul, League of Shadows, Ra’s al Ghul (formerly)

Enemies: Batman, GCPD

[meritatem]

Before coming back to the past, Damian had more than enough time to dissect every aspect of his existence and come to terms with the fact that, for such a short life like his, he was full of regrets.

One of those countless regrets was that he never made enough time for Colin. It always seemed like he had something else going on: Damian dying, his mother's Leviathan, the Joker, Grayson dying, trying to repent from the Year of Blood, Robin gang wars, his father losing his memory, the Court of Owls, getting into trouble off-world with Jon, Grayson losing his memory, the Arkham Knight, his terrible attempt at leading the Teen Titans, dark multiverse nonsense, Leviathan again, even fucking Timothy Drake coming from the future to kill Jon, of all of people. There was always something happening... it was all so outlandish to the point of being cartoonish.

And Damian regretted not being a better, constant friend for Colin, because despite all the absurdity of his life, he made time for Jon, even if he did it because he was trying to fool himself and pretend their time together was just to keep Jon under surveillance.

He also regretted never introducing those two to one another. 

Talia handcrafted, so to speak, an extraordinary child by forcing all the training she could from the League of Assassins, Bruce's Batman's training and her own personal interests. She attempted to rush the creation of a perfect warrior, a weapon to tame the world with, a little Alexander... but she also made a child that was insecure, sensitive and had zero social skills. Had Damian stayed in the League and grow up there until adulthood, he'd had lose his soft edges and everything compassionate inside him, following the same path his mother went under the al Ghul madness, but he saw his father's world and for the first time in his life he had the opportunity to choose, and his choice was to stay in that world, despite how unfitted he was for it.

Damian understood better now the flaws of his character, accepting that he kept Colin and Jon apart because deep down he was afraid of being left behind, because he knew those two would become instant friends; they were so alike: full of childhood wonder, pure-hearted and hopeful, while Damian was just Damian: conceited, self-centered and callous. They'd like each other better than they liked Damian and in the end they would've ditched him for good.

It should've been clear for him that he had nothing to worry about, because even if Damian was an absolute terror, Colin and Jon genuinely appreciated the friendship they shared with him, even when he didn't deserved such loyalty, especially when it came to Jon.

The only thing Damian could do now was to not repeat the same mistakes and just carry on. That's why as soon as him and Colin were at a safe distance from the police after waiting for them to come, hidden and seemingly alone, he raised a commanding hand and stopped Colin in the middle of the sentence he was saying.

“I don't have a lot of time,” he started. “I must keep patrolling, but you seem like you could be a--“ and he stopped himself for a second, because calling Colin something like useful acquaintance didn't sound all that amicable. “Good associate,” close enough. “I'm open to work together sometimes if you are interested.”

One thing Damian will always give to Colin is that despite his lack of training, he was really good at keeping a poker face. “Are you with Batman and Robin?”

Damian thought he was asking because he just wanted confirmation, because if the belt and the mask weren't enough of a dead giveaway, having a kid fight crime was something very up to Batman's alley. Instead of verbally answering, he took one batarang out and making use of the empty street, he proceeded to swiftly throw it away in such manner that it came back right into his hand.

He offered the batarang to Colin expecting at least some enthusiasm from his part, but what Damian got instead was a look of fondness directed at it, like it was something valuable.

“You can keep it if you want.”

And just like that, Damian finally got a real glance of his old friend. “Woah, really?”

“I have more than I need. But remember, is not a toy, you need to be careful, especially with its storage.” Brass knuckles were one thing, but surely the nuns would be a little more alarmed with sharp objects.

“I'm not a kid, you know?” and he went back into is Abuse persona. “If you're working with them, do you know where is Batman? People on the streets are talking, they're not saying nice things.”

“He's fine, he's just preoccupied with something very important but he'll be back soon.” Even if it wasn't so prominent, Damian could see the way Colin relaxed at his words.

“I knew he was fine, he's Batman,” he said it like it was something he debated against Damian before. “But some people think he's not coming back and things are getting ugly and that's saying a lot for Gotham.”

“That's why we are here, to remember the vermin that Batman isn't the only one keeping the city safe.”

“You're right,” and he hit his right fist against his other palm, making Damian almost smile. “I accept your offer, you can call me if you need help.”

“I'll look for you when I'm able. Keep helping if you can but don't take unnecessary risks, remember, is best to run and fight another day than stay and die. Dead heroes don't help anyone.”

Colin just started to chuckle and even if Damian saw his huge hand coming to him with more than enough time to react, he resisted his first instinct and just stood there, letting Colin pat his head like Abuse wasn't a child himself. Damian, of course, will remember such offense.

“Don't worry, No One, I can look out for myself.”

“I'm in a generous mood, so I'll let you keep your hand.”

That just made Colin laugh some more and even if it wasn't his normal, natural laugh, Damian had missed hearing that one just the same.

When he came back from his patrol, Damian was exhausted, but not physically.

Alfred let him go easily given how late it was - or early, depending on how one looked at it - and after taking a shower, Damian went directly to his bed, letting himself heavily fall without any of his usual poise and not bothering with going under the covers, just like he used to do in his first days at the mansion.

Meeting Colin again was an eye-opener.

All this time he had been devising his plans to work around the premise of him becoming Robin, even when he had doubts about it he quickly took this as the default path for him.

Damian lost sight. His knowledge about things to come had made him complacent, stagnant, happy to be comforted by the security that Robin will give him in this family full of well-known strangers. For someone trying to change the horrors of his future, he was comfortable letting events of the past play the same when he should be out there, braving the sands of time by destroying everything so he could just remade it.

He knew what he really had to do, because being Robin wasn't the only option he considered at the beginning, just the one that was reassuring.

Damian had to force himself to sleep because it was important for his efficiency, but he didn't felt any rest when he woke up hours later after having only nightmares, despite this, he soon wished to get back to those nightmares when he saw Dick at the breakfast nook. His unusual presence there and the events from the last night were enough for Damian to know he was being ambushed again; fine, this will just make things easier for him to put an end to this ridiculous situation and move on to more important things.

“Good morning, Master Damian,” said Alfred, appearing out of nowhere in what it must be his best impression of Batman. “Breakfast is served.”

“Thank you, Pennyworth.” And he made sure to give Alfred an accusatory look before taking the empty seat were his food was waiting, coincidentally being just the one in front of Dick. “Grayson.”

“Hi, Damian.” He said almost meekly.

He proceeded to ignore Dick completely, concentrating instead on taking the napkin that was wrapped around his cutlery and placing it on his lap, which was a silly and unnecessary ritual, but displaying good table etiquette even if it was in an informal setting like a breakfast for two at home, was one of the easiest ways to please Alfred, so Damian didn't mind putting in the little extra effort.

He counted almost five minutes of uncomfortable silence before Dick finally broke.

“Look, I'm sorry,” he said with a sigh. “I wasn't in a good place yesterday, there's a lot of things going on and I know it's not an excuse, I should've handle things better, you did nothing wrong, kiddo.”

“I know that.”

And with all the theatrics he was blaming on Pennyworth, Damian took the teacup that was to his right with calculated movements to look graceful and natural, taking a sip, avoiding a wince at Alfred's Earl Gray and setting the cup back down, placing his elbows on the table and interlocking the fingers of his hands, like he was pretending to be in a business meeting.

“I want to make one thing clear, so you and Drake can stop arguing like children... I don't want to be Robin.”

That simple and serendipitous encounter with Colin set in motion the gears that led him to question if he really was doing the best he could in the situation he was. The answer was, plainly, no. Damian could do even more if he sacrificed one of the last things he had left, something that was even laughably simple when he considered that at that point it hadn't even been granted to him yet. Thus, even before he got back to the mansion Damian already made up his mind and from then on, all he had been doing was to prepare to make it official; it was true that when it came to emotions he was a walking disaster, but at least now he had enough emotional intelligence to control himself, even if his childlike brain heavily affected by his upbringing in the League wasn't being as cooperative as he would like it.

One step at a time... even if those steps were over burning coals and Damian had no shoes.

“I don't need to dress like a clown and go around calling myself avian names to be effective.”

“Damian,” and it sounded so soft that Damian wanted to kick Dick's shin under the table. “It's not about that, the identities we take can be used as symbols, statements, ideas,” he had that look in his eyes that was unreasonably inspiring and also admonitory. “That's important, it's why Bruce created Batman and why he chose to work the way he did. And it's about us too, what we want to represent, what we want to honor, who we want to be. Is more than a costume and a name.”

God, Damian hated Dick so much. He was always so good at making things more difficult for him and at the same contradictory time, easier too, whether it was the embrace of death or think of himself as a member of a family.

“I agree,” and he was so proud of how detached he sounded. “That's why I don't want to partake in any of those things. Pennyworth said I have freedom here, a luxury I was negated to in the League and if that's true, you won't force this on me.”

He knew that was a low blow, but after all “fight to win, not to be fair” was something that the League indeed taught him.

Despite being out of his field of vision, Damian knew that Alfred surely schooled his expression, not openly showing what he thought of his words but Dick on the other didn't bother to hide the pained look that flashed across his face.

“He's right, we're not like that. You have options and you are free to make choices, I'm sorry if I made you feel like you didn't.”

Damian hated himself so much too, but the good thing about it was that ultimately this will be a meaningless refusal for Grayson, because Damian was also meaningless to him.

“Now that we settled this,” he took the napkin from his lap and put it on the table. “I'll skip the rest of the breakfast, I'm afraid the tea made me lost appetite.” 

Pennyworth, of course, took the bait and played along. “Apologies, sir, it seems I keep forgetting your palate is not that educated yet.”

“I'm sure you'll work to correct it. Good luck with that, Pennyworth.”

Without adding anything more, Damian left the room at a steady pace, missing the way Alfred and Dick shared a look before Dick inelegantly slammed his forehead into the table, causing the dishes and glasses in the surface to wobble slightly.

Although the easiest option would be to let Grayson talk to Drake and tell him he still had his job, Damian admitted that Dick had a point about the whole statement thing. It was for that reason that he spent the rest of the day on the lookout, waiting for Tim to come back, even though there was a chance he might not return that day, given the nature of his argument with Grayson.

Of course, following Damian's theory that the universe liked to be against him, Drake returned late in the afternoon. Tim was at least consistent in his ways because he walked right through the front door, where Damian had decided to wait for him which he was grateful for, because after the day he had, the last thing he wanted was to look for Drake on the hallways of the Manor or worse, having to talk to him in the Batcave. No, for this he needed neutral ground.

When Tim saw him, his body language changed completely, even though he closed himself off and was noticeably more guarded, Damian could still make out the anger that lurked beneath his impassive exterior. Hah, maybe in the future he could ask Drake to give him some tips about it.

“Drake,” he started in what he hoped was his best non-confrontational tone. “I spoke with Grayson and I'm telling you what I told him, I'm not going to be Robin, I'm not interested.”

Damian said that sentence as hastily as he could, not wanting to make Tim angrier. However, his reaction was not what Damian expected; he stopped walking and for a few moments he stood there in the middle of the room, looking at Damian as if he were not worthy of being in his presence.

He crossed his arms, supporting the weight of his body on his left foot and his look of contempt changed for a sardonic one. “Oh, you're not?” he asked mockingly. “You tried to kill me so you could be Robin, and now you don't want to? Give me a break.”

“I already apologized for that, I'm not doing it again, I think I explained myself well.”

“Like I care about your apologies, but is good that you don't want to be Robin,” and his smile became spiteful. “Because I wasn't going to let you anyway. A psychopath like you will only taint the name.”

He had to admit those words took him off guard, but it was clear that Tim was more upset than Damian initially assumed. But good on Drake, he still had it even so far back.

“Glad we came to an agreement, have a good night.” And Damian turned around, ready to leave.

This is what Damian wanted: simple, clinical, fast. So, of course, it wasn't what Tim wanted.

“I guess you only want the mantle if you can take it by force. Or maybe you just miss having blood in your hands.” Damian took the deep breath he couldn't when he announced to Grayson of his decision. “But it's not that, right? You wanted Bruce to make you Robin.” Tim humorlessly laughed. “You should take advantage and accept Dick's offer, because Bruce would've never chosen you.”

Damian was doing so well, so, so well at controlling his emotions even in the face of another one of those heartbreaking sacrifices; he was even proud of himself, at how much he had learn over the years. All his reflections, his conclusions, his remorse and wishful thinking... all of that and Damian was still that same kid that came to Gotham with only a sword and anger issues.

“I know that!” he screamed, turning around and trying with all his might to not throw himself at Tim. “You can keep your stupid costume and your insipid bird name! I don't care! Just do your damn work, Drake, so when my father comes back he will find this wretched household standing!”

Until that moment Tim had been preparing for a fight because it was what he was looking for. Damian might have fooled Alfred and even Dick with the act he was putting on, but Tim knew he couldn't be trusted, he knew the type of person he really was and he was not going to fall for the game he was playing. Yeah, he had been cruel but he did it solely for the purpose of seeing how far Damian was willing to take this “humble assassin” act he was putting on, how much he could tolerate before he finally showed his true colors... and yet, in just an instant, with just one sentence, Tim felt all the anger leaving him, as if someone abruptly thrown him into the waters of a frozen lake.

And now he felt more empty than mad. “Bruce is dead.” He said, trying to ignore how heavy and disgusting those words felt in his mouth.

“Tt! As if!” And Damian literary bit his tongue, so the pain and the taste of blood could give him some clarity in his ire. “That cannot stop people like us. Whether we crawl from our own graves or some fool finds a way to bring us back, death is inconsequential.” And he took a couple of calculated steps towards Tim, just enough to have him at the perfect range for an attack, because that was also a message. “Until my father comes back, you will do your job and keep Batman alive, because if you fail in protecting Grayson, I will destroy. Everything. You. Are.”

Damian did exactly what he told Colin to do, so he just ran away because he didn't want anyone to see him like this.

And when he finally reached his room, his only sanctuary in this tomb he had to call home, he slammed the door behind him and thumped his back against it, dropping to the floor, squeezing his eyes shut and hugging his legs as he trembled, trying to control the urge he had to scream, to shatter the few things that were in his bedroom; to light the fireplace and make the fire consume everything just like how Damian felt that anger burning his insides... but it wasn't just anger, because hidden deep beneath it all were the true emotions that Damian couldn't allow himself to express freely, that made his throat tighten and his eyes sting with unshed tears, so he released his legs and crossed them on the floor as he began to rock back and forth while rubbing his arms up and down with his hands, in a futile attempt to soothe himself.

Hush, hush, little Robin, Richard's voice echoed somewhere in his mind.

But Damian wasn't Robin, he will never be and despite his doubts about the role through the years, Robin was still the best thing he had ever done and now it was just another something that would only live in his memories.

It was for the best, because Robin was meant to be in the light... and Damian will always belong in the shadows.

⪻Chapter 4

Chapter 6⪼

[wpdarlingpan]

Hello! I recently follow you and read your writing of DC. I love it, your writing are really good! For a request, i have this idea...

Platonic yandere Damian wayne with twin sister reader. Maybe, when they were kids, he used to be hated her because she was excelent in everything and have a little care and love from Talia. But she really care for his brother and then Ra al-ghul put them to fight among themselves on a cliff to see who was going to be the future leader and in a bad move, they ended up hanging up in the cliff. Then his sister, not wanting to see his brother die, brings him back to the surface and she ends up falling. Damian didn't know how to react and only receive a slap from his mother .

How about, after Damian goes to live with Bruce and being the new Robin, in one of the fights with Slade and his partner, this partner decides to let himself be trapped so that Slade can escape. In the Batcave, they take off the mask to discover that it is their sister, but someone very different, with another personality, cold, somewhat insane, hostile and very intelligent like that, because she was submerged in the Lazarus pit by Slade, who consider as a parent. Maybe Damian will try to reason with her and apologize for what he did to her. She tells him that it is too late and a smoke bomb explodes to reveal that Slade came for his daughter. She, determined, goes with him, but Damian tries to stop her, but is defeated and tells him that he should never have saved him, to see how Damian tears up and before leaving, he laughs and says "I didn't know that demons cry "

it could be possible? Thanks!!

Ukht: Sister in Arabic

Title: Not Again

Talia was surprised when she gave birth to twins. The boy a few minutes sooner than the girl. She was glad as well as they had two lethal weapons instead of one.

Two children with the blood of Talia Al Ghul and The Batman.

There was a boy she named Damian and she name the girl Y/N. She cared for them a short time after they were born then they were cared for mostly by maids.

As they grew older Damian began to despise his younger sister. She was perfect at everything and he was always second best. He believed she got all the love of their mother and grandfather and left him with none.

They were 10 when they were dropped at the top of the tallest mountain on their land and told to fight to determine the next Leader of the League Of Assassins. They were equals. They fought for hours as they each met each attack with one of equal force same with defense. They were bloody and bruised and Y/N couldn’t bare to hurt her brother anymore. But we she was about to give, she didn’t notice how close to the edge they were. The stood facing each other with their feet barely not over the edge but as Damian attack he knocked himself over the edge because he lost balance as he grew angry and let his emotions over ride his training. But as he fell he grabbed onto his sisters leg and she was pulled down with him. The didn’t fall far as they ended hanging onto a small ledge not to far from the top of the mountain.

Y/N knew what she had to do, but did she have the strength to do it is what she was questioning to herself.

She grabbed the rope she had attached to her belt and used one hand to toss it up and luckily for her it landed around a tall rock while the other end flew back down. The two ends of the rope were next to her and she leaned over and attached the rope to Damians belt as he struggled to hold on. He looked over once he felt the weight on his belt and he looked back at her questioningly.

“I love you Damian.” She said as she grabbed onto one end of the rope, pulling Damian up to the top as she used as much of the weight she could to work as a pulley system. She didn’t want him to bed up falling back down so as soon as she saw he was safely to the top, or as safe as you could be on the top of the mountain. She let go.

Damian screamed as he saw his sister fall beneath the clouds to her death, and he couldn’t do anything. He hated her all of his life for reasons she could not control and he didn’t realize that he never triplet hated her until he realized he never had been without her. She patched him up after fights in the middle of the night so he couldn’t protest, gave his pieces of food, tried to show him love but he wouldn’t accept it, not from her. 

He regretted it now.

A assassin flew a helicopter up to the mountain with Talia in the back going to collect Damian. Once she arrived and Damian had fought the pain and walked onto the helicopter, Talia slapped him sending him to the floor with a red hand print on his cheek. He wouldn’t cry, never.

They arrived back at the compound and Talia led him to Ra’s. Of course they talked about everything he did wrong then made him practice for 5 hours until it was perfect. After they sent him away to sleep he had nightmares of his sisters death, and how he hated her all those years.

The next day he was sent to live with his father after the league was attacked and Ra’s was killed. His mother handed him off and later on he decided to stay with his father even after he was to be brought back to the league. It had been a few months since then and Batman and Robin were in the middle of a fight with Slade otherwise known as deathstroke. He was a powerful force to be reckoned with. But even worse now, as he had a sidekick.

A fully masked figure wearing fighting gear and knifes strapped to their thigh, not to mention the very sharp Katana they were wielding, it was a difficult task for them both. But Batman dodged a stroke from the blade and the blade hit a gas pipe, as it was about to explode Slade ran off and Batman was about to go follow before she tackled him to the ground. They fought for a good couple seconds before Robin joined the fight and she was knocked out.

Batman and Robin swung out of the warehouse with Batman holding the masked figure as the pipe exploded leaving behind a burning building.

They put her in handcuffs and put her in the back of the batmobile as they drove home.

“Who do you think she is Batman?”

“I’m not sure.”

They drove home in silence, when did Slade get a partner?

Once in the bat cave they tied her to a chair before Alfred fixed up their cuts. The figure began to slowly wake up and she struggled in the chair before settling while staring at the duo.

“Why were you with Slade? A partner? Sidekick? Apprentice?” She doesn’t respond and continued to glare. The Bat stared right back and couldn’t help but think she was very short, just a inch or two below Damian. Her eyes seemed young as well but didn’t hold any innocence.

“You heard him, who are you?!” Damian demanded by Robin put a hand on his shoulder

They still didn’t respond. But, an idea came to mind. If she gave away her identity it would distract them enough for her to initiate a plan.

“Take off my mask Damian and see.” She spoke ominously while they both looked in shock that she knew his identity. He got over it and quickly ripped off her mask and he was staring into eyes alike to his own.

“Y-Y/N?”

“Miss me? I’m sure you didn’t.”

“Who is she Damian?”

“He never told you about me?” She asked with a fake point then proceeded to smirk.

“Damian?” Batman questioned further but all domain could do was stare.

“I’m his twin sister.” If there was a time the bat had showed that he was shocked it would have been when he found out about Damian, but this one rivaled it.

“W-What?”

He looked over to Damian but Damian turned away.

“Yep, his little sister only by a few minutes.”

Damian and Bruce took off the masks looked at her. Bruce saw the resemblances, between Damian and her, between her and himself.

Damian knelt in front of her and stared into her eyes.

“Forgive me ukht, please forgive me.” Tears gathered in his eyes surprising y/n. Damian crying? That’s not possible.

“Forgive you for what Damian?” Bruce questioned staring at his children.

Y/N had her lips pursed so Damian responded.

“Our mother and grandfather put us against each other in a mountain… it was a fight to the death to determine who would be the heir to the league. We fought for hours before I let me emotions lead and I fell. I grabbed onto y/n and she came down with me. We felt onto a ledge with barely enough room for us to hold on.” Bruce’s eyes are wide and slightly teary. “She grabbed her rope and made a pulley system. I was slipping, she tied it to my belt and jumped, telling me she loved me. Pulling me to the top as she Plummeted down. She fell, or rather let go so I could live.”

“And yet here we are.” She spoke snarky glaring at Damian.

“How are you here then?” Bruce questioned feeling as if he knew the answer. Jason was a standing example.

“You already know Bruce. The Lazarus Pit. Just like how it brought back Robin #2.” She smirked as he glared slightly. Damian glared back at their father as he needed to calm down.

“But did you know something Batman?” 

“What is it Y/N?”

“We always have a back up plan.”

With that the wall bursted open and Y/N shook of the robes she had been working away with a small knife. She held up a small tracker she had on her and smirked at their surprise faces. The duo threw on their masks even though their identity’s were already known.

Slade walked in with swords at the ready and he threw one to Y/N.

“Nice to see you.” Slade smirked at her.

“To you as well.”

“Ready to go?” He questioned her ignoring the bat and the bird.

“Ready when you are.” They nodded slightly and

Slade attacked Batman while she got Damian. With the help of a smoke Bomb and their disorientation from the information that she was alive, they were fairly easy to take down. They knocked the duo down to the floor and tied their legs together, just to give them enough time to escape.

“You can’t go! Not again.” Damian yelled with tears streaming down his face. He couldn’t lose her, not again.

“Wow look at that Slade.”

“What is it Y/N?” He played along as they turns towards the whole in the wall.

“I didn’t know Demons could cry. You learn something new everyday.”

Slade tossed another smoke Bomb into the cave as the last dispersed, distracting Damian and Bruce since they had almost gotten out of the rope, and got far away from the duo.

Damian stared at the hole in the wall in a mix of anger and sadness. Bruce in shock still.

Damian sobbed and fell to the floor in tears.

“Not again.”

~*~

Hopefully you liked it! Sorry it wasn’t too Yandere, I wasn’t sure how to make him a Yandere with this. But I how it was still good. Thank you for reading and I hope you have a great day! ♡

[scorpionyx9621]

Do you think Jason Todd fandom is kinda toxic? Because it seems like NO MATTER what DC do, there'll always be complains. Forget the bad adaptation like Titans. Even Judd Winick cannot escape the criticism with how he potrayed Robin!Jason. They just never satisfied.

SORRY, IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO RESPOND TO THIS. I just moved from Washington D.C. to Seattle, which, for my non-American friends, that's 4442km away. And I DROVE THERE ALL BY MYSELF. And now I'm trying to find new work in a new city and trying to stay mentally healthy and positive. Life is exciting but hard and scary.

*sighs*

As someone who was a fandom elder with V*ltr*n. I've seen some of the worst when it comes to fandom behavior. I'm talking people baking food with shaving razors and trying to give them to the showrunners. I'm talking leaking major plot details and refusing to take it down unless they make their ship canon (I am looking at you, Kl*nce stans) For the most part, DC Comics has had a decades-long reputation of treating their fans like trash and not caring what they think so from what I've seen, we all just grumble and complain in our corners of the internet about how we don't like how X comic portrays Jason Todd.

The challenge with Jason Todd is that he's your clinical anti-hero, the batfamily's Draco in Leather Pants, he's a jerkass woobie, and on top of all of that, he's a Tumblr sexyman. It's a perfect storm for a very fun but frustrating character to be a fan of. It doesn't help that every writer decides to re-invent the wheel every time Jason comes up so his canon lore is confusing at best and inconsistent as a standard.

I guess starting with a general brief on who Jason is and what is uniform about him with every instance he's appeared in comics/media.

Grew up in a poor family in Gotham with a dad who was a petty-mid-level criminal, and a mother who dies of a drug overdose.

Survives on the street on his own by committing petty crimes and potentially even engaging in sexual acts to keep himself alive.

Is cornered by Batman and taken in after Dick Grayson quits/is fired

Becomes the second Robin, but is known for being the harsher, more brutal Robin.

Is killed by Joker after being tortured, but somehow comes back to life and regains senses through the Lazarus Pit

Resolves himself to be better than Batman by basically being Batman but kills people.

Where there has been a lot of conflict in the fandom is the fact that Jason Todd is not a character that is written consistently. DC Comics loves to go with the narrative that Jason was "bad from the start" and was the "bad robin" when, yes, he has trouble controlling his anger, but he also still is just as invested in seeing the best of Gotham City and trying to be a positive change for the world as any other DC Comics hero.

Where I get frustrated with the fandom is its ability to knit-pick every detail of a comic they don't like while completely disregarding everything that makes the comics great and worth it to read. My example being Urban Legends. To which most people had pretty mixed reactions to. I was critical of the comic at first but as it went along I ended up really liking it. I have a feeling DC Comics went to Chip Zdarsky and told him he had 6 issues to bring Jason back into the Bat Family, and honestly he didn't do a bad job. Did it feel rushed? Absolutely. I wish there was more development of Jason and Bruce's characters and their dynamic as a whole. However, where I see a lot of people being angry and upset with Urban Legends is that they feel Zdarsky needlessly wrote Jason as an incompetent fool who needs Bruce to save him.

Whether or not that was the intention of Zdarsky is up to debate. However, and this may be controversial, but I don't think he wrote Jason Todd out of character at all. For as fearsome, intimidating, and awesome as Red Hood is. Jason is a character who is absolutely driven by his emotions. Why do you think he donned the role of Red Hood? As a response to his anger towards The Joker for killing him, and towards Bruce for not taking action against The Joker and for seemingly replacing him so quickly after he died. Jason didn't care about being the murderous Robin Hood or for being the bloody hammer of justice against N*zi's and P*d*ph*les. He only cared originally about making The Joker and Bruce pay. It wasn't until he trained under the best assassins in the world and realized most of them were horrific criminals who trafficked children and were p*dos that Talia began to realize that the teachers that she sent Jason to train under started dying horrific and painful deaths.

The entire story of the Cheer story in Batman Urban Legends was started because it finally forced some consequences upon Jason. Tyler, aka Blue Hood's father was a drug dealer who gave his supply to his wife and kids. And when Tyler's father admitted he gave the drugs to Tyler, it immediately made him fall within the self-imposed philosophical kill-list of Jason Todd. And Jason, well, he proceeds to kill Tyler's father. When this happens, Jason is in shock. Tyler's dad fit the bill to easily and justifiably be killed by Jason. We've never seen Jason having to deal with the consequences of being a murderous vigilante on a micro-level. When Jason realizes what he's done in that he's murdered Tyler's dad, he's shocked. He tells Babs the truth. He does a rational thing because he's in shock. He doesn't know what to do, he never has had to face the consequences of his actions as Red Hood and now the gravity of befriending a child as a vigilante hero who kills people just set in when he killed the father of the same child he was just introduced to.

(Oh here's a little aside because it had to be said, Jason would not have been a good father or a good mentor to Tyler and absolutely should not have been his new Robin. Jason is a man who is in his early 20's (not saying men in their early 20's can't be good fathers at all) who is a brutal serial killer using the guise of a vigilante anti-hero to let him escape most of the law. the complications of having the man who murdered your father adopt you and make you his sidekick are way too numerous for me to explain in a long-winded already heavy Tumblr essay post. There's a reason why we don't advocate for a story where Joe Chill adopted Bruce Wayne or one where Tony Zucco took in Dick Grayson.)

The next biggest argument is that they feel that Jason is giving up his guns as a means to just be invited back into the Bat-Family. To which I will tell anyone who has that argument to go actually read Urban Legends. Already have and still have that argument? Please re-read it. Don't want to? That's okay, I will paste the images from the comic where Jason specifically says that he doesn't want to give up his weapons for Bruce and his real reasoning down below since the comic isn't exactly readily accessible.

Jason gave up the guns because he felt the gravity of what he had done and knows how it'll effect Tyler. Thankfully his mom is alive and in recovery. But Tyler doesn't have a father anymore. And Jason killed Tyler's father. It may have been in accordance to Jason's philosophy, but it was a case where it blurred the lines. Jason Todd isn't a black and white character, just very dark gray. He doesn't kill aimlessly like the Joker. If you are on Jason's list you probably have done something pretty horrific, and also just in general, being in his way or being a threat to him. Mind you, in early days of Red Hood and the Outlaws (Image below) Jason almost killed 10 innocent civilians in a town in Colorado all because they saw him kill a monster. That being said, Jason isn't aimless in his kills.

(Also can we just take a moment to appreciate Kenneth Rocafort's art? DC Comics said we need to rehabilitate Jason Todd's image and Kenneth Rocafort said hold my beer: It's so SO GOOD)

That being said, the key emphasis in the story of Cheer asides from trying to introduce Jason Todd back into the Bat Family and give an actual purpose for him being there, other than him just kind of being there ala Bowser every time he shows up for Go Kart racing, Tennis, Golf, Soccer, and the Olympic games when Mario invites him, is that Jason and Bruce ultimately both want the same thing. Jason wants to be welcomed back into the family and to be loved and appreciated. Bruce want's Jason back as his son and wants to love and protect Jason. Both of these visions are shown in the last chapter of Cheer while under the effect of the Cheer Gas. It's ultimately this love and appreciation they both have for each other that helps them overcome their challenge and win.

Jason Todd is a character who, just like Bruce, has been through so much pain and so much hate in his life. The two are meant to parallel each other. While Bruce chose to see the best in everyone, giving every rogue in his gallery the option to be helped and give them a second chance, hence why he never kills, Jason has a similar view on wanting to protect the public, but he understands that some crimes are so heinous they cannot be forgiven, or that some habitual criminals are due to stay habitual criminals, and need to be put down. But at the end of the day, the two of them both try to protect people in their own ways.

I am aware that through the writings of various DC Comics authors such as Scott Lobdell and Judd Winick, the two have had a very tumultuous relationship. And rightfully so, I am by no means saying that Scott Lobdell writing an arc where Bruce literally beats Jason to within an inch of his life in Red Hood and the Outlaws, nor Judd Winick's interpretation of Under the Red Hood where Bruce throws the Batarang at Jason's neck, slicing his throat and leaving him ambiguously for dead at the end of the comic is appropriate considering DC Comics seems to be trying everything they can to integrate Jason back into the family. That being said, a lot of these writings have shaped the narrative of Jason and Bruce's relationship and have an integral effect on the way the fandom views the two. It doesn't help that Zdarsky acknowledged Lobdell's life-beating of Jason by Bruce at the very end of Cheer by having Bruce give Jason his old outfit back as a means of mending the fence between the two of them. That does complicate a lot of things in terms of how they are viewed by the fandom and helps to cause an even greater divide between the two.

Regardless, I want to emphasize the fact that Jason Todd is a part of the family of his own accord. Yes, he's quite snarky and deadpan in almost every encounter. However, Jason is absolutely a part of the family and has been for a while of his own will. There's a great moment in Detective Comics that emphasizes this. Jason cares about his family because it is his found family. Yes, they may be warry about him and use him as a punching back and/or heckle him. At the end of the day, we're debating the family dynamics of a fictional playboy billionaire vigilante whose kleptomania took the form of adopting troubled children and turning them into vigilante heroes. Jason Todd wants a family that will love and support him. This is a key definition of his character at its most basic. This was proven during the events of Cheer and is being reenforced by DC Comics every time they get the opportunity to do so.

Now, none of this is to say that I hate Judd Winick. I do not, I don't like the fact that in all of his writings of Jason, he just writes him as a dangerous psychopath, and Winick himself admits to seeing Jason as nothing much more than a psychopath. Yet Winick is the one who the majority of the fandom clings to as the one true good writer of Jason Todd because 'Jason was competent, dangerous, smart' Listen, friends, Jason is all of that and I will never deny it. However, what I love about Jason isn't that he's dangerously smart of that writers either write him as angsty angry Tumblr sexyman bait or that they write him as an infantile man child with a gun. There's a large contention of this fandom that has an obsession with Jason Todd being this vigilante gunman who is hot and sexy and while I definitely get the appeal. It is very creepy and downright disturbing that all of you hyperfixate on his use of guns and ability to be a murderer. It is creepy and I'm not necessarily here for it.

What I love about Jason Todd is that despite all of the pain, all of the heartache, all of the betrayal, and bullying, and death, and anguish. Jason Todd is one of the most loving and supportive characters in all of DC Comics. Jason has been through so much in his life, but he still chooses to love. He still chooses to see the bright side in people. Yes, he takes a utilitarian approach and chooses to kill certain villains, but at the end of the day he wants to see a better world, and he wants to be loved. It takes so much courage and so much heart to learn to love again after one has been abused or traumatized. I would not blame Jason at all if he said fuck it and just went full solo and vigilante evil. He has every right to, but he still chooses to be with the Bat Family of his own accord. That's something that I see a lot of in myself. I have been through a lot of trauma and yet I try to be a better person myself in any way that I can. It is extremely admirable of Jason to allow love back into his heart when he really doesn't need to. He kills and he protects because he has this love of society. It may have been shaped by anger and hatred, but Jason has found his place amongst people who love him and value him. I think Ducra, from Red Hood and the Outlaws put it best in the image given below.

To end this tangent, I love Jason Todd and all of his sexy dangerousness, but it's far more than that. As much as Jason may be dangerous and snarky, he loves his family without a shadow of a doubt. I look up to Jason Todd because despite all of his pain and all of his trauma, he still choses to love. Jason Todd is a character who is someone I love because despite all of his flaws and having a very toxic fandom, he still serves as a character filled with so much heart and so much passion. I wish more writers would understand that. But for now I will live with what I have. Even though the fandom may be vocal about it's hatred for his characterization, I choose to love Jason regardless because he is a character who chooses love and acceptance regardless of his pain. Jason Todd is by no means a good person in any sense of the word. He has easily killed upwards of 100 people by now. He is a character who is flawed and complex but ultimately is one who powers forwards and finds love and heart in a place from so much pain and anguish. That is what I love about Jason Todd. After all, to quote a famous undead robot superhero, "What is grief, if not love persevering?" Jason Todd chooses to love despite all of the trauma and pain and grief. Yes, he is hardened in his exterior, but inside there is a man with a lot of love to give and someone who deserves the world in my eyes.

[moonlit-ocs]

The Young Assassin

The Story of Young Justice’s Leila al Ghūl

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6

—————

INFINITY ISLAND

November 12, 02:28 EST

1995

Leila al Ghūl was born, but not in the way you’d expect. Leila was created using the egg of Ra’s al Ghūl’s young daughter, Talia, and the essence of the finest assassin his League of Shadows had to offer. Leila was nothing more than a weapon to her grandfather. The means they had to growing a child outside of the womb was quite unusual, but how else do you create the perfect specimen? Well, she was almost perfect, aside from the fact that she wasn’t the heir Ra’s was looking for.

Nonetheless, Leila was raised among the assassins, training beside them to rise above them. She was always told if she wanted to be in charge one day, she would have to best everyone on the island. Or else she would disappoint Grandfather. Disgrace the family name. The manipulation went on and on. Her mother made an effort to train he daughter as well, but Talia was only 11 years old when her daughter had finished developing in the incubator. She didn’t feel like a mother, she was forced to be.

Years of brutal training were in store for Leila, the supposed heir of the League of Shadows. But it all felt hopeless. The girl had no joy, no childhood, just constant combat, the need to prove herself, a desire to achieve what she had been destined to do. Leila didn’t disappoint, especially for a young child, only seven years old. Already lethal, they proved that after deploying her on her first mission.

Two dozen confirmed kills. From a seven year old. I suppose she had the upper hand, an inconspicuous opponent, just a harmless little girl until they sic her on you. It was a mission she’d never be able to forget—no matter how hard she tried.

A notable enemy, Batman. Also a desired ally, as told by her grandfather. Bruce Wayne, suddenly in the running for the new Head of Shadows. Leila could say she was a bit jealous that there was an outsider being considered for a position she was promised, and she would do anything to protect that position.

It was never a problem to her, not having a childhood. She didn’t know what it was. Leila was given knowledge and training from the beginning, “fun” was a foreign concept. There would be a few laughs here and there, but Infinity Island was all business.

—————

INFINITY ISLAND

February 3, 18:08 EST

2005

Batman reappeared every once in a blue moon, and she wanted a piece of him. She was small, quick, stealthy, well-balanced, an opponent the Bat never dreamed of going against. Leila worked so fast, he couldn’t even tell he was fighting a child. She was just a kid. And she put up a good fight, too. Batman wasn’t bested by the young assassin, but the young assassin wasn’t bested by the Bat, either. They’d met their match, and as soon as Batman had realized that this assassin was younger than ten, he forfeited.

“How old are you?” He asked Leila, hoping for a straight answer.

“Why should I tell you?” The girl shot back at him with a light accent, similar to one he’d heard before. Too similar. She clutched onto her swords in case he tried to strike again.

“You’re just a kid. I won’t fight you.” Batman said, setting down his utility belt and raising his hands in surrender.

“Because you’re scared you’ll lose against me?” You ripped your tactical mask off, deciding to show him the face of the child he was worried to fight, almost like a taunt. What Leila didn’t understand was that this surrender was not of fear, but of liberation.

“Have you ever left this island?” Batman asked the girl. “Played with kids your own age?” His questions were practically answered with the look in her eyes, something he figures the assassins hadn’t taught her to hide yet. Or maybe Leila wanted him to see. “Have you ever had a break?”

“I don’t need a break, Batman.” She snapped at him. “I’m the future of the Shadows, I have dedicated my life to training, I will one day lead this League and continue my Grandfather’s legacy.” Leila revealed, growing angrier at the Batman as she thought of Ra’s favoring the Batman over her. So she approached him carefully, dragging her blades across the ground and lifting one to his neck. “You get in the way of my purpose, it would be wise for me to eliminate you.”

“I know you don’t want to do that.” Batman smirked with the sharp end hovering over his artery.

“Why not?” Leila curiously asked.

“Because I’m the only person who has ever given you an idea outside of combat training. You’re curious as to what life is like away from the Shadows.” She listened to his words carefully, growing angrier at how perfectly he read her, but she heard he was the World’s Greatest Detective, she shouldn’t have been surprised. “You’re a child, you deserve to be free and grow up at your own pace. I can see right now that you grew up too soon. You were made into a weapon, one who could take me one on one. I don’t think you know how rare that is.” Leila dropped her weapons and let the Bat rescind his surrender. “What’s your name?”

“It’s Leila.” She answered him without a fight this time. “I’m nine.” Even answered one of his previous questions. He said all the right things, but she knew deep down she always wanted a way out of this life. Always. This could be it.

“Nine...” He repeated, taking a quiet deep breath upon hearing that young age, so close to his own age when his childhood was ripped away from him, when his parents died. “Leila, I need you to answer honestly. Do you want to lead the League of Shadows?”

“It’s what I was destined to do.” She told him, putting her weapons away on the dual scabbards carried on her back.

“That wasn’t my question.” Batman replied and she nodded.

“I don’t know. You asked if I had played with anyone my own age, I haven’t. I’ve never gotten a break from my duties. I’ve only left this island to work.” She explained, aggravated by his implication that she was missing out on something. What could it have been? She couldn’t imagine happiness outside of a good meal or a nice joke.

“To kill?” He asked.

“That’s work for me.” Leila answered as Batman picked up his utility belt and quietly stood behind her, thinking. Just thinking. He couldn’t leave her here, espresso when it was clear she no longer wanted this life.

“Do you want to leave with me, Leila?” Batman proposed. She thought the question would never come.

“You trust me enough to do that?” She looked completely shocked.

“Will you trust me?” Batman asked and she nodded. “Can you leave now?”

“I—I can’t. Not until I go grab some things. Can I meet you here in an hour?” Leila knew exactly what she needed to gather, and not the normal person’s toiletries and clothes. She had her eye on something much more valuable.

“I can do that.” Batman replied, using this as a test. He would hide for the time being, wait for Leila to return. This would be the time to take down the Batman for her, calling in an army of assassins to wipe him out.

“Thank you, Bruce. One hour, don’t be late.” Leila warned and Batman cocked an eyebrow. “Don’t be surprised, my Grandfather shared your identity with me. I was taught by him to respect the secret identity, though. I would never have let it slip.” She smiled at her new friend and headed back to the Shadow compound, well aware that there was no one near her prize at this time. And she knew exactly how to get in.

Ra’s’ Chambers, home of his very own Lazarus Pit. Leila came in clutch with an empty bottle and uncorked it, setting it aside while she continued her mission to pick each of many locks. Ra’s refused to let anyone near his precious Lazarus, even his own daughter or granddaughter in times of desperation. Leila didn’t have a reason to use it, there was no specific objective, she just knew she couldn’t leave this island without at least a pinch of the most valuable item here. It took about ten minutes, but she got the Pit open and dunked the bottle in right away, watching the air bubbles float to the top as her glass bottle filled up.

It was the perfect souvenir from her life on this island that would be coming to an end. While she still had time, she snuck back to her quarters and grabbed weapons, gear, and clothing to take along with her. Then it’d be time to find Batman and leave this unfulfilling life behind. Batman was from a place called “Gotham,” somewhere in America that would give Leila a whole new sense of belonging.

“Batman, are you present?” You called softly in the secluded field. He appeared behind you, no surprise, after securing the area. You had not betrayed him yet.

“Are you ready?” He asked, seeing your bag held tightly in your fist. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes.’” Bruce cracked a smile and led her to the Batwing, which inconspicuously scanned the girl for any trackers or communicators she may have had on her way in. Clean. She was a trained liar, spy, and assassin, but Leila was acting completely genuine when it came to escape from the island. It isn’t like she hadn’t thought about it a few times, but her Grandfather made her rise to power sound like life or death. Although, it confused her that he considered things to be life or death when he was immortal. Ra’s may have had plans, but it was no longer her business. “Alfred, please have a guest room ready when we arrive.”

“‘We,’ sir?” Alfred responded, concerned by his phrasing.

“Yes, we’ll be having a guest. Hopefully, she’s long-term.” Bruce vaguely explained.

“Very well, I look forward to meeting her.” Alfred answered and she smiled to herself. It was unusual for Leila to meet new people who weren’t “business associates” or enemies. This was better. Much better.

“You trust me enough to take me to your home?” Leila asked, complete shocked by a notoriously untrusting man.

“Well, you already know my identity and I’m confident you have no way of communicating with your former friends. I have some trust put into you, and I hope you’ll soon trust in me. But we’ll build on it, it will take time. Is that okay with you?” Bruce was remarkable at communicating with the young assassin, but she was also extremely advanced for her age. He knew they’d work together well, but he wanted to give her that choice after showing her what it meant to be a real kid. But Leila might be addicted to life with a mission, he knew the feeling. Maybe he could teach her to do it the right way.

—————

GOTHAM CITY

February 3, 22:46 EST

2005

Bruce flew into the Batcave with his new friend, Miss Leila al Ghūl. She was ecstatic, but didn’t really show it with her assassin-trained poker face. She enjoyed the sightseeing on the way to Gotham, something she never really appreciated on her other journeys. “Alfred, would you like to meet our guest?” Bruce asked while helping Leila out from his jet.

“I would be delighted, sir.” Alfred approached, expecting to see an older woman to greet, but stood there a bit stunned when he realized the girl in question was just a child. “My, my. You are quite the surprise, my dear. I’m Alfred Pennyworth, the butler.”

“I’m Leila al Ghūl, the assassin.” She introduced with a kind smile. Alfred looked up at the boy he raised with raw confusion in his eyes.

“Leila, Alfred will show you to your room for the time being, if that’s alright with you. I’d like for you to get yourself acquainted with your living arrangements, let us know if there’s any problems, and don’t be afraid to ask for anything.” Bruce instructed, leading Alfred to raise his eyebrows at Bruce, desperate for an explanation. “I will talk to you once you return, Alfred. Treat her like you would your own family.”

Once you were introduced to your room, Alfred went back to the Batcave to ask a series of questions. “Master Bruce, did that child assassin claim to be an al Ghūl? As in Ra’s al Ghūl, your crazed enemy and the leader of the League of Shadows?”

“Yes.” Bruce coyly answered.

“And what is she doing here?” He followed up.

“Earning her freedom. She’s been raised as an assassin from birth. Leila is a child.” Bruce began typing rapidly into the Batcomputer, Alfred spectating his master’s work.

“How old is this girl?” Another question asked by Alfred.

“She’s only nine.” He opened up a file on the computer that shocked his butler.

“You can’t seriously be trying to forge a birth certificate for her.” Alfred replied to the screen.

“I’m not. I am forging a birth certificate for her.” Bruce began clacking the keys to fill out as much information as he could. “I may even forge some adoption papers for Leila, too.”

“This is not how I imagined you’d start a family, Master Bruce.” Alfred was exasperated by all that had transpired on this night. Bruce seemed like he hadn’t thought this through for a second.

“It’s up to her, Alfred. I won’t be making any decisions without her knowledge or consent. She’s definitely intelligent, maybe even a genius, she can make decisions for herself.” He had so much hope for the girl he had just met.

“And as for the assassin side of her?” Alfred brought to his attention.

“I’ll teach her a new way. She may never shake her assassin ways in her head, but that doesn’t mean she has to act on them. I can teach her how to channel that, use non-lethal means…maybe even become a hero.” Bruce had thought up all of the possibilities and this just seemed right for him. Sure, Leila was an assassin prodigy and practically royalty, but wanting to get out showed him that those labels were not who she was deep down. It would take time to teach, to trust, but patience was definitely his thing. And if it meant saving a kid from a dark future, he would give it all that he’s got.

—————

GOTHAM CITY

February 4, 9:00 EST

2005

Alfred and Bruce let her sleep in later than they usually do, but she was already up by the time they checked on her. She already had the discipline for this line of work, it was just the hardwired bloodlust she had to shake.

“Leila, could I ask your opinion on something?” Bruce asked as they all sat in the kitchen, eating the breakfast Alfred had just prepared special for their house guest.

“I suppose.” She replied, clinking her utensils down on her plate and giving her full attention to Bruce.

“Well, from my experience doing this sort of thing, crimefighting and all,” he started his proposal, “I know it’s not easy to give up. Although we wouldn’t exactly call your ‘endeavors’ crimefighting, it still falls under the same umbrella.”

“Meaning?” She tilted her head and waited for him to get the the point.

“Meaning, if you’re comfortable with this, I would like to train you a little differently. I’m sure you’re still itching for action since it’s all you’ve been accustomed to and I’d like to channel that into something more…helpful.” Leila blinked in response, taking a sip of her orange juice as she mulled it over. “I’m not sure how much you know about Batman, but I have a ‘no killing’ rule. It’s very important to me, and I think that it would be healthy for you to adopt that rule, as well. It would distance you from the Shadows.”

“That makes perfect sense.” She agreed with her newest and only friend, wondering what he had in store for her as far as training went. Obviously, he’d be conditioning her to refrain from killing people, but she could understand that it wasn’t exactly the most socially acceptable thing.

“Speaking of adopting…” Alfred mumbled and caught your attention.

“Thank you for that, Alfred.” Bruce forced a smile, not exactly ready for the subject yet, but you certainly were smart enough to put it together. “In some time, Leila, if we see fit, I’d like to know if I could legally adopt you. We already have the means to create the documents. Plus, we would need to sort those legal papers out in order to enroll you in a school with kids your age—if that’s something you’re interested in at the moment.”

“So, you’d be like my father?” Leila questioned.

“I suppose that would be the case. Are you comfortable with that?” He paused. “Do you…know your real father?”

“I know he is or was an assassin. Supposedly the best of the best. My grandfather chose him for his biological superiority.” You explained your beginnings to him. “He also needed an egg from my biological mother, Talia. She was very young, but he was impatient. Their essences were mixed in a petri dish and incubated under close care for many months, soon I was a fully developed baby.” They were a bit surprised by your birthing story, but it certainly wasn’t the worst they’ve heard. “I was never introduced to my father, nor was I even told his name. He’s a ghost to me.”

“I see.” Bruce calmly answered your heavy story, clasping his hands together and staring at them while he took it all in.

“As for school, I think you’re going to have to teach me a bit about socializing and socially acceptable actions before I start mingling with the kids my age. As far as I know, they aren’t as…developed as me.” Leila was quite the observant girl, and thoughtful to her unknown peers at this time.

“A wise decision, Master Leila.” Alfred cleared the kitchen table of dirty dishes while she contemplated the coming days.

“I think we should put adoption off until both of us trust each other better. I don’t want you to regret your decision if you do.” Leila spoke up and Bruce agreed guiltily, it was unfortunate that you were right about trusting you. You were dangerous, after all. But you were also just a child. “I think training would build that trust. Don’t you?”

“Do you have any interest in crimefighting? Or would you just like me to break your old habits?” Bruce inquired, not able to keep track of how many questions the three of them had asked all pooled together.

“Honestly, maybe crimefighting would be a good change of pace.” Leila stood from her seat and pushed in her chair. “I could right my wrongs, make up for what they had me do. But only when you deem it appropriate.” She was obsessed with getting his trust, not because her intentions were false, but because she knew how important trust could be. Especially to someone like him. Leila needed his trust to truly be free here.

—————

GOTHAM CITY

October 30, 23:49 EST

2005

“Are you ready for your first night of patrol, Leila?” Batman asked his new partner.

“I think you mean ‘Demonspawn.’” She proudly flaunted the new identity, both fitting and badass.

“Well, Demonspawn, I was thinking that after tonight, if all goes well, we can work on those adoption papers.” Bruce suggested, grinning slyly while her face lit up. This was it. He trusted her fully, he knew she was completely separated from her past, he wanted her to stay, to become his family. This is all she could dream of for months!

“I think I’d like that.” Demonspawn nonchalantly answered.

“‘Leila Wayne’ has a nice ring to it.” He added, nearly making the poker-faced ex-assassin shed a tear at the sentiment. But Lei’s smile told him all he needed as the two of them took on the night. He told her that it wouldn’t be long before the Justice League would hear about Demonspawn, but there may be mixed feelings over her age. She figured that much, but under these circumstances, they must understand.

Things were looking up for her. She finally got a taste of fun, not much more with Batman than she got with the Shadows, but it sure felt like it. There was much more in store for her, then.

—————

[dessarious]

What Makes a Family? Pt18

AO3   Beginning   Previous   Next

“And what price are they going to have to pay for your magic?” Marinette couldn’t help but smile at the protective tone in Bruce’s voice as he glared at Plagg. She was beyond relieved that he seemed to be a good person and even her Guardian instincts were calm around him.

“The Miraculous are all about balance. In our case, as true Chosen, they affect us whether we use them or not. That’s why Cass’ life has been so difficult and mine has been relatively calm. Actually being in possession of Plagg’s ring will make things better for her. As for other holders, it varies. The longer you hold a Miraculous the more it pulls out certain traits in you. Good or bad depends on both the person and how in tune with the Miraculous they are.” Chloe’s over protective nature and Adrien’s possessiveness were both likely side effects of being holders but there was no way for her to know for certain.

“So they begin to turn you into a different person?” Marinette was shaking her head before he was even finished. She really wasn’t good at explaining things to other people.

“No. Any traits that the Miraculous bring out were already there. If anything they bring out a person’s true nature so they can’t hide who they really are. My former partner for instance was always showing his best face to the world around him but Plagg’s influence allowed those looking for it the ability to see some of his less desirable qualities. Especially when transformed.” While it made perfect sense that the ring had brought out the things Adrien felt he had to hide from the world, she still felt guilty. She also had to wonder how different his life would have been if she’d found her real Black Cat sooner. Cass burrowed into her side.

“Not your fault.” Marinette just hugged her twin closer. Even if Fu had picked Adrien, as the current Guardian he had still been her responsibility. She’d let her knowledge of his personal life define how she treated him when she should have simply judged his actions as a hero. It had been reckless and irresponsible. She’d put everyone at risk. She felt a vibration at her side and actually laughed when she realized Cass was purring to calm her down.

“Well if I needed any more proof that you are Plagg’s chosen, the fact that you’re picking up cat traits without even having the ring on you would have done it.” Cass stopped abruptly and buried her head into Marinette’s shoulder with an embarrassed whine. Mari just grinned and kissed her temple to try and soothe her. “At least yours is cute. The first trait I picked up was reflex bleeding.” It was a small consolation that Lila had a rash for over a month after grabbing her.

“Do I want to know what that is?” Marinette offered Bruce a commiserating smile. It was a lot to process.

“My skin secretes a toxic substance when I feel threatened. Sadly enough it’s actually helped in battles before. Poor baby August tried to eat me a few times while Akumatized.” Bruce just blinked at her and Marinette could practically hear him thinking ‘what the fuck?’ She grinned at him. “Once you’ve actually been through an Akuma attack, remind me to show you footage of past battles. It will prove educational and quite possibly entertaining.”

“You expect me to be entertained by one of my children almost being eaten?” He sounded insulted at the suggestion but Marinette rolled her eyes.

“No, but the fact that Hawkmoth tends to Akumatize the worst suited people into villains should. The only reason he’s still around is because he’s a coward. If I could find him all of this would be over in a heartbeat. Hopefully with Cass here my luck will keep shifting for the better.”

“I thought you were the one with good luck.” Mari let out a frustrated breath.

“Technically yes. However having the Miraculous active, especially with the ring being held by someone so much less in tune than I am, has been affecting me. It’s gotten better since I added other permanent holders but certain things haven’t improved at all. Also, the Kwami are of the opinion that Cass and I rubbed off some of our luck on each other in the womb. It’s likely the reason she ended up with you around the same time I first became Ladybug. Being together will allow us to buffer each other.” Bruce was still frowning at her but it seemed more contemplative than anything else.

“Cass.” She watched her sister peek at Bruce from her position. “What do you want to do?” Marinette let out an approving hum at the question. She got a strange sense of satisfaction that he treated Cass with such care even though she wasn’t his. He wasn’t as warm as her parents, but it was obvious he did care.

“Stay. Help.” Bruce let out a sigh but nodded. Cass relaxed further and Marinette could feel contentment radiating off her.

“So Selina said you’re a fashion designer?” Marinette rose an eyebrow at the subject change. “Since there’s nothing more to be done at present about what’s going on in Paris and it doesn’t appear to be an urgent issue, I would like to get to know you and I’m sure Cass does too.” She felt Cass nod.

“Yes, I’m a fashion designer. It was always what I wanted to do, but my actual start was one of the first twists of fate after I got my Miraculous. I ended up designing something for Jagged Stone and everything just sort of took off from there.” Cass stiffened slightly and Marinette saw Bruce’s eye twitch.

“You’re the designer he’s always bragging about?” Marinette felt her face flush. It hadn’t really occurred to her that he would be familiar with Jagged. Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose. “The boys are not going to leave you alone. Dick, Jason, and Tim have a running bet over who can get a commission from you first. I apologize in advance for whatever happens at dinner.” She laughed at his dry tone and caught Cass’ smile out of the corner of her eye.

“I assure you it can’t be worse than Uncle Jagged himself. He introduces me to all my new clients and I swear it gets more embarrassing every time. I’m fairly certain he practices just to annoy me.” Bruce’s mouth twitched into something between a smile and a grimace.

“Do not underestimate the boys’ ability to be annoying or embarrassing. That’s not even counting the fact that Damian is likely to challenge you to a duel in order to prove that he’s meant to be my true heir and I have no idea what weapons he managed to smuggle on the plane.” Marinette rolled her eyes. Why wasn’t she surprised?

“I take it Talia’s teachings are still strong?” He frowned at her. Oh right, he didn’t know she knew. “When she and Ra’s were in Paris she enjoyed bragging about him and his bloodlines. That’s how I figured out you were Batman. But don’t worry, I can handle him.” The skeptical look he shot her just made her grin. “Trust me. Besides, I just have to prove I’m not a threat to him. Given that I have no wish to take over your business and I have my own hero problems to worry about there’s no reason for him to take issue with me.” Bruce still seemed uncertain but Cass signed something at him and he nodded.

“I suppose we’ll just have to wait and see.” While Bruce obviously doubted her, she felt nothing but confidence from her twin. As nervous as she was to meet the others, Damian trying to kill her wasn’t that big a problem. At least with him, she knew what to expect.

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[arty-shadow-morningstar]

Treasure Hunter AU

I binged watch the Mummy trilogy while i had no wifi/internet for a while and I had an idea for a treasure hunter Mari with Daminette.

--------

Damian was bored.(age: 22-28 years old.)

At a gala party.

Meets Marinette who was equally bored.(abt the same age as D)

He finds out she was the finder of this famous artifact on display.

-----

Damian tugged at his collar, scanning the crowd. His father needed a plus one to show up with and everyone else were busy.

He grabbed a champagne flute and made his way to the edge of the room.

He found a woman in a black evening gown, looking as bored as he felt. short dark hair. Blue eyes.( I suck at describing people after the third time doing it. It feels overrated)

"Hello, stranger. You bored with mingling in with the assholes on their high horses?"

"Should I be offended?"

"We will see. Depends on you."

"How about you? A beautiful lady like you not kissing up their asses to climb the social ladder. That is strange."

She made a face. "Trust me. I don't want to be here but my friend wanted family time so I came in his place. What about you? Why are you here?"

"I am pretty sure my father wanted someone to get him out if the vultures came too close."

"Vultures, adept descriptions. I am glad no one realized who I am yet or i would be in their claws."

"Who are you representing, anyways?"

"Myself but Adrien or Kagami usually comes in my place but tonight, they have their son's play to go to."

"Adrien and Kagami. Aren't they the Agreste-Tsrungi?"

"Yep."

"You are the Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Globe trotting Treasure hunter and also world-class designer, MDC."

"Now you know. What's your name, handsome stranger?"

"You don't know?"

"Hey. Like you said globetrotting treasure hunter. I am not up-to-date on the news front. And when I am in Paris to do designer stuff, i am too busy to look at the news."

He gave her his hand, "Damian Wayne. Son of Bruce Wayne who is a billionaire and owns Wayne Enterprise."

She shook it.

"Pleased to meet you."

She stills design but like sent her designs to Adrien at least once every month, who had rebranded Gabriel to Miraculous Designs.

Some ppl thinks he did it to spite his father, who is in jail. Adrien and Mari has a partnership thing.

Mari also makes clothes but for a few months. And the rest of the time is spent travelling.

Exclusive designs from MDC are rare but the designs hand made by her are rarer so they are like a really big deal. They have the most amazing details. Really expensive and limited edition.

The rest of the time Mari spends finding Miraculouses (Miraculi ?) lost in the world so if she happens to find a few priceless artifacts that aren't the Miraculous. She donates it.

Alix helps and sometimes go find them with her.

She has Tikki and Plagg and maybe Wyazz all the time to look for curses and counter it.

She has also met John Constantine. They have an arrangement of sorts. A few magical artifacts that doesn't have to Miraculous business are given to him in exchange for any miraculous stuff he has or found.

Adrien funds her trips.

He is married to Kagami.

Kagami goes with Mari and Alix for a few months sometimes. Adrien likes being a stay at home dad.

Their kid is named Marin/Martin because it was Mari who got them together.

The few trips Mari dragged him on was enough to make him stay behind and run the business.

(Back to the story) Damian fangirled a little because Mari had been doing stuff like this since she was 18.

It was an amazing reputation she has.

She invites him to her next trip after questioning his skill sets.

------

"Are you good with heights, dark scary places and adventuring into the unknown?"

"Yes"

"You any good with guns, swords, knives, booby traps and keeping calm under pressure?"

"Yes. I have many experiences with them."

"Can you keep a secret?"

"Yes. Why are you asking me this?"

"Wanna join me on my next trip to the jungle of China? There are myths about some hidden temple."

------

Damian was a little conflicted.

He hadn't have the chance to explore the world much. He had been somewhere else for a mission (for the League of Shadows or JL business) but never for pleasure.

Being a vigilante by night and working at Wayne Enterprise by day gets a little boring after some years.

His brothers had a chance to travel the world on their own for a while. Sure, for reasons other than sight-seeing and looking for something to break out of the rut he was in. But still.

This was an exciting opportunity but a tad suspicious.

-----

"Why me?"

She looked surprised at that.

"Oh. Well, my friends enjoy coming with me on my adventures, treasure hunting and all that every now and then except Adrien but they have other things in their life to come with me all the time. I can mostly survive on my own most of the time but it gets lonely travelling on my own and it's nice if someone is there to watch my back. I understand if you don't want to come. It's just that I enjoy your company and you aren't like those assholes on their high horses. My gut feeling says I can trust you. You are not after the treasure or see it as one big game. You are looking for an escape. You would definitely catch me if I fall. As you know from my choice of friends, i have a bad habit of pulling rich kids from their stuffy lifestyle and take them on potentially life-threatening adventures." She joked. Then she lowered her voice, "Besides, it might be handy having a former assassin around."

She said in Arabic.

His hand went to his hidden knife and found it not there.

"Looking for this?" She said, holding it.

"How much do you know?" He hissed back in the same language.

"Relax," she gave back the knife, "my mother was one and I have accidentally came across a few in my adventures. I know one when i see one. I took a stab in the dark with your middle-eastern background. Speaking of, you know Talia Al Ghul by any chance."

He narrowed his eyes.

"She's my mother. Why?"

"You look like her. Met her a few times. Nice lady but scary. Mine's Sabine Cheng, goes by the Blue Reaper." She said it so casually like their parents weren't dangerous deadly assassins and had normal jobs.

"You aren't normal, are you?"

"What gave it away?"

"That you willingly gave away blackmail material to me."

"Normal people don't have assassins for mothers. And you and me aren't exactly meeting the minimum standards for normal. Besides, I just told you a family secret that you would have found out anyways with a through background search and a little digging. So far all I know about you is that your parents are Talia Al Ghul and Bruce Wayne-I wonder how an assassin got together with a billionaire-, you are a former League of Shadows assassin, you are great with weapons, keeping secrets and so far meeting the criteria for an adventure buddy. That's all I swear. And that you have some pets. A cat, maybe."

"How you know about my cat?!"

"Cat hair on your clothes." She was good. "If it will ease your mind about me, you can ask me 5 questions that I will truthfully answer. "

"So why are you doing this?"

"That's question 1. Well, I really want whatever this is between us to work. Partners, Friends, Companions, Comrades. Whatever you want to call it. Like I said, I get lonely sometimes and need some human interaction to at least keep myself sane. You looked like you want to be somewhere else and I thought this is perfect. I am not going to tell anyone about you or push you to join me. I swear on my mother's sword."

"Are we killing anybody?"

"Mostly I try to avoid that as much as possible. Sometimes I get into situations with no other alternative. " She looked away guiltily.

"Fair enough."

"Not judging me for that. That's a first for me."

"I am a former assassin and have killed before. I have no right to condemn you for your past."

"How much are you willing to tell me about this hidden temple?"

"That has to do with a secret. I would tell you more when there are less ears around. But this temple was said to hold a magic jewel that grants some powers and it is located really deep in the jungle. Getting there might take months."

"You forgot to mention that last one."

"Oh yeah. You think you can get away for some months. This kind of stuff usually takes a while. Like I said before, no pressure. Anyway, 2 questions left."

"What's my salary?"

"Aren't you a billionaire?"

"My father is. I have a trust fund and I get a salary for doing my job at the company. You are lucky that I just finished with most of my assigned projects so I might be able to come."

"I am so sorry about just assuming things about you. You can say no to the offer. The temple is said to hold some other treasures but I mainly want the jewel. We could auction off a few bits and pieces. I usually just donate them to museums and universities or sell them to those who really appreciate the history. I would also pay for the entire expenses for the trip."

"Can I think about this?"

"Sure. Here's my number. I leave on the 1st of next month. Gimme an answer a week before that so I can make the proper arrangements. It has been fun talking to you, Damian."

She walked away, going towards the buffet table.

------

Back in the car on the way home to the manor.

Bruce asked, "Who were you talking to for that long?"

"Who?"

"The one that gave you her number."

"Oh. MDC. She invited me to join her in China next month to find some hidden temple."

"She did?"

"Yes. Not only that she found out about mother and know what I did before I came here. She doesn't know about Batman, Robin or Crow. And she said she wasn't going to blackmail me but just wanted a companion to go with her. Ideally, it would be best to silence her before she digs any further into me but I trust her. I sincerely believe that she meant it when she said that she's not going to tell on me. And I am really tempted to take up on it."

"What do you want to do?"

"On one hand, i would be gone for months so there won't be Crow in Gotham for a while and I have a few projects I need to finish up. On the other hand. Father, I have been a vigilante for over 10 years now and I haven't really done much out besides that, school and now work. I have appreciated all you have done for me over the years. But I want to go with her. Do something that is not connected to Batman or Wayne or Al Ghul. Just a little something different for myself."

"You can go if you want. I am not going to stop you. I will make arrangements so the projects would be done by someone else. The others can cover your patrols. You are still young so it is understandable to want some fun every now and then."

"Thank you, Father."

Bruce put his hand on his shoulder.

"I am proud of you as Crow and as Damian Wayne. But if you want to go find some hidden temple in China just for a break from this life, to be just Damian, go for it. There are worse things you could do. Just tell me if you are going to go on any future trips like that." (I don't know DC much, sorry if that is a little OOC but I like good dad! Bruce.)

-------

Damian dialed the number on the card.

"Hello"

"I accept your offer, miss MDC."

"Damian? Right, text me your email address. I will sent you things you would need to pack and flight details. And can you come by to the Gotham Rose Hotel tomorrow? I will give more details on the temple."

-------

Damian comes by the hotel.

Marinette tells him of the kwamis and miraculous and makes him swear to not tell anyone unless they already know.

The hidden temple actually might have a miraculous.

Damian gets a little interested in the akuma situation she mentioned.

Mari doesn't say anything about it much.

When he got back, he goes to the Bat-computer and did some digging.

Ladybug looks a little familiar. Pulls up younger picture of Mari and look at that, she used to be a superhero.

Wonder Woman was kept informed of things and made sure no one goes to Paris without her knowing.

Zatanna helped capture the villain Hawkmoth and end his 2 year reign.

Fast forward, they are in Beijing now, sleeping off jetlag.

The next morning, They get out of the city somehow to the city limits and somewhere remote.

Mari uses Kalki and transports them to the jungle.

They set up camp. Cue Campfire stories.

-----

"I thought getting here would take months."

"No actually, finding the temple would. According to my research and the map I copied through less than legal means, it is somewhere in this general area. There used to a city around here too and the king or emperor pissed off some powerful priest or wizard, take your pick. There was a curse. The city crumbled down and the temple is the only thing standing because the king went there and prayed to the gods for protection. The one who answered his prayers and protected the temple in doing so the king was pressed into service of the god. The king did everything the god said for a while but later, he started to hate it and began disobeying the orders. The god cursed him for his disobedience. The temple he was protected in became his tomb and he was tasked to protect the chest inside the temple for the rest of eternity. Anyone who opens the chest would gain the ultimate power to rule the earth. Thankfully, we are not after the chest. Some powerful crack-head with a misused miraculous tried to find it and open the chest for more power. But he never returned. My theory is that the miraculous is still in the temple. As long as we don't wake up the king or go for the chest, we would be okay."

"What are the guns for? And How did you get them past security?"

"In case of emergencies, an army of undead was mentioned and guns are surprisingly good repellent. Well, most of the time. It's useless if there is a no weapons can kill 'it' rule. Then, it's just a stress reliever. I kept them in a pocket dimension. Makes it easier to get around."

Damian vowed to never let Marinette meet Jason. Judging by the pile of guns and occasional knives and other weapons she took out of the brown satchel which apparently holds a pocket dimension, Jason would adopt her. He wondered if that was all that was inside in.

-------

They packed up and started searching the jungle for hidden temple.

It was a month and a half before they found it.

They bonded a lot during that time.

They had a moment after drinking a little alcohol which Mari has in the pocket dimension. Or Drank a lot of alcohol and had sex.

It was awkward and they both agree to not talk about it again.

Soon after, they found the temple. But it is still a little far away.

But the temple is not the only thing they found. They also found a campsite with many people milling around. Some of them carried guns.

Somewhat rich bastard who overheard their conversation at the gala. Heard treasure and found out where Mari's next expedition is.

Had the help of some scholar who wants to be famous for the greatest find since King Tut.

They found the temple even though they had no magical help, they left 2 weeks before Mari did, so yeah.

Rich Bastard's name is 'Philip Anderson'(This sounds familiar to me for some reason and I can't find out why.) and Scholar is 'Harry Scott'

They have armed bodyguards and some 'hired' help to get the treasure.

Anderson is still rich but his company had been getting losses the past 2 years and this is a quick, easy get rich scheme.

Mari and Damian: "Rich asshole on his high horse."

Anderson doesn't know about the chest but Mari and Damian thinks he does and it was what he was after.

They set up camp a little further ahead of Anderson's

Unfortunately, they were found by Harry. Somehow.

-----

I am going to continue this when I am more awake.

[avaritia-apotheosis]

Phantom Children [DP x Batman Crossover] Ch. 1

Disclaimer: It's been a while since I watched DP and the only Batman/DC stuff I've interacted with are B:TAS, the JL cartoons, and what I got from fandom osmosis so don't expect any sort of canon compliance.

In Which: the author takes advantage of the passage of time in Nanda Parbat being wonky and Danny doesn't give up, per se, but is sort of resigned to being stuck with the League of Assassins until further notice.

AO3 | Prologue | [ 1 ] | 2 |

CW for descriptions of non-consensual drug use (if there's anything you guys would like me to tag, please tell me)

-----

WHEN SOMETHING WENT WRONG WITH DANNY’S LIFE, it was usually because of one or two things: Ghosts or Vlad. And considering their truce and how even Vlad wouldn’t go this far (at least, Danny hoped), Danny was kidnapped because of ghosts. Or his association with ghosts.

Though how an organization of ninja-assassins got wind of his ‘unique’ circumstance was beyond him. The shackles they slapped on his wrists were more a formality than anything after the second time he tried to escape them with intangibility. The only reason they managed to get him contained the entire trip from Amity Park to wherever the fuck Nanda Parbat lay was because of the cocktail of drugs they pumped into his system spiked with blood blossoms.

Danny had to give it to them. The League of Assassins might not have any anti-ecto weaponry, but they did their homework.

He barely remembered the trip. He catches flashes—blurry figures and words he couldn’t comprehend. A warm hand holding his, a thumb rubbing smooth circles on the back of his palm and calloused fingers running through his hair.

When he awoke, it was in a room bigger than his bedroom. His ankle was shackled to a bedpost, and the only door leading out was locked. There was a separate room for the bathroom off to the side and a shelf stacked with books decorating the otherwise bare walls, but other than that there wasn’t much else. Not even windows.

Intangibility, he learned, wasn’t an option. The blood blossoms in his bloodstream were still in circulation, rendering his transformation useless. If his nose was right, his captors were pumping blood blossoms from the vents. The sickly sweet of the flower was faint in the cool air, but the slight red haze that persisted in the room was unmistakable.

He tried, regardless. The rings barely made it half-way before his knees buckled and he started retching all over the floor. At least his stomach was empty.

-------

Danny doesn’t know how long he’s been in Nanda Parbat. Time moved differently here. Faster, he thought. He doesn’t really understand how or why, though sometimes he wondered what Clockwork thought of all of this.

(There are times, in the darkness and solitude of his cell, when Danny would call for Clockwork to rescue him. Quietly, so quietly, it was barely even a whisper. But Clockwork would hear it—Danny was sure he would. Clockwork helped him out before, so this time shouldn’t be all that different. But at the end of the night, nothingness would answer him. And Danny had to learn over and over again that even the Ghost of Time had his own rules to follow.)

It had taken a few days and Talia nearly biting the head off of the League’s physician for them to realize that blood blossoms would be an awful way to contain him. Effective at immobilizing him, yes, but the flowers left him about as helpless as Superman in a kryptonite cave.

“It all works out in the end,” Talia would say. “The blossoms were never going to become a long-term solution; you might end up developing an immunity to them given enough exposure.”

Though knowing now what Talia’s ‘long-term plan’ was for making sure Danny didn’t slip through the walls of the headquarters and fly across the ocean, Danny would rather take his chances with the blood blossoms.

Danny might not have been as smart as Vlad, but he was tricky and creative when he needed to be. He knows he’s powerful. And sure, he might forget some of his own abilities every now and then, but that doesn’t mean he can’t use them. In the time he’s been stuck in the Leage’s lair (and coherent), Danny had thought of a dozen escape plans, each one with a high chance of success. If he made an attempt, he could guarantee the League wouldn’t notice until he was a quarter-way across the globe.

Escaping wasn’t the problem. That would be the easy part.

His core burned at the thought of it. And it hurt—as if his entire being was dunked in a vat of dry ice and left to freeze. He hated how he was here and everything that he was protecting was far. Away.

Danny wanted to go home. Wanted to read comic books in his bed, play Doom with Tucker and Sam, sleep in class and make fun of the Box Ghost. He wants to eat his mom’s food, even if there’s a fifty-fifty chance that it would come alive and try to eat him instead. He wants to listen to Jazz try to psychoanalyze his problems. Wants to go fishing with his dad and eat his famous chocolate fudge. Wants to fly above the skies of Amity Park and touch what little he can of the universe before he’s called down again.

Amity Park is his haunt. His Home. The soft hum of the Ghost Portal in the basement a lullaby he’s listened to for so long that sleeping without it was next to impossible. Every fiber of his being craved to go back because how is he supposed to protect Amity if he isn’t there?

But to go back meant sacrificing everyone.

Danny doesn’t risk it.

(The—the last time was an accident. If Danny isn’t—if he isn’t careful, this time it may be an assassination. He refused to have his family’s death on his hands again.)

He has faith in Sam, Tucker, and Jazz to hold down the fort until he could find a way to escape. They’re smart. Smarter than him. They’ll work something out and—in a worst-case scenario, they’ll find a way to shut down the Ghost Portal to stop the ghosts from coming through.

Logic meant nothing to his ghost core, though. The next best thing to do was to drown out his worries with the League’s rigorous education.

Hand-to-hand and weapons combat. Geography. History. Dozens of foreign languages. Poisons and herbology and basic first-aid. His days are packed with new things to learn and to repeat until it’s drilled into his skull so deep he could recite the information in his sleep. (Hyosycamus niger, aka Henbane. Every part is highly toxic and can cause dizziness, stupor, insanity, and eventual death. It’s medicinal uses range from--)

The League demanded perfection. The Demon’s Head demanded even more than that.

Talia oversaw his education. Sometimes, there would be another, older, man by her side, observing his regimen with cold calculation. Whenever that man arrived, Danny’s instructors were always stricter.

His teachers made little effort to interact with him outside of their set schedule, and during his lessons they only ever answer pertinent questions. He supposed there would be other students of the League in Nanda Parbat, but he’s seen neither hide nor hair of them. His rooms (a bedroom + bathroom combo that led out into a large indoor space for training) are separate from everything else.

Danny slept alone, ate alone, and trained alone. And for a boy who has had his two best friends stuck to his side like glue for as long as he could remember, it’s a terribly lonely experience.

His shadow guards don’t count. They might as well be another piece of furniture. Another stone in the wall.

-------

Talia was the only one that broke his new mundane routine, as much as she was the cause of it. She was his only source of companionship in this hell hole; the only one who would really speak to him. And yeah, he knew why that was. Jazz had rambled on enough about Stockholm syndrome to know that this ‘arrangement’ was Talia’s attempts at forging a bond between them. But godit’s just so hard to be stuck inside your own mind all day when. It made him think too much. Worry. (Whatifwhatifwhatifwhatif).

And then—

And then.

Danny had asked Talia a multitude of questions, but only two did she ever answer. Both asked when he was still trying to flush the drug cocktail and the blood blossoms from his system.

The first was when he asked, “Why am I here?” She answered that it was because Ra’s al Ghul, her father, wanted him. He had knowledge the Demon’s Head wanted; powers that Ra’s could only ever dream of. The man was curious—though Talia assured him over and over again that Danny wouldn’t be vivisected and studied for science.

The second answer came right after when Danny asked her “How could you be so sure?”

Talia smiled. Lacquered fingers coming up to brush away the dark strands that fell over his face. Her hands traced the curve of his jaw, cupping his cheeks to raise his eyes to hers. “Because you are my son,” she said, voice honey sweet.

He jerked from her hold.

Burned by it.

“You’re lying,” he spat. “I’m already someone else’s son. Try again.”

Talia let her hands drop to her sides. “You are my son.” She took a step closer towards him. Steady. Firm. “That is why you are here.”

“I don’t believe you.”

A pitying smile. “Be that as it may, you cannot change the truth.” She approached him, slowly backing him against the wall before she reached out to tilt his chin upwards. Some traitorous part of Danny’s mind catalogued her features. Made connections that shouldn’t exist. “I have carried you in my womb, Daniel. You were a part of me for so very long and I loved you more with each passing day. You are of my body and of my blood—not matter how much you may deny it.”

“No.” He pushed her hands away and raked his hands over his hair. “You’re lying.” She must be. They don’t look alike. Not at all. Everyone always said he was his dad’s—Jack Fenton’s—exact copy. Black haired and blue eyed and sharp-jawed. Awkward but well-meaning and with a heart of gold, his mother said. It was once of the facts of life; Danny took after his dad, and Jazz took after their mom. Simple as that.

(There is a memory resurfacing from his early childhood that Danny is desperately trying to repress again. Memories of kids teasing him on the playground, innocently cruel in the way only children can be as they tried to convince him he was adopted. That his skin looked nothing like his parents’. Dusky where his parents and sister were fair. He went home crying to his parents that same day, and they soothed away his worries with hushed words and a well-timed distraction.)

He asked no more questions after that. Talia was lying to him for some reason, and no answer she could give would be trustworthy anyways. What little of him he could see in her was only a figment of his own imagination. His mind playing cruel tricks.

Then his hopes were dashed aside when Talia showed him a picture of his father a day later.

The man in the photo looked like him. Black haired and eyes the same shade of too-bright blue. There were differences, of course. The man in the photograph was fairer, unlike Danny. He was taller and broader where Danny was lean and lanky. But despite this and all the other minute differences, this man who was supposed to be Danny’s biological father looked like him.

The same slant of the brow. The same shape of the eyes. The way the man held himself with this sense of gravitas and power that Danny couldn’t yet do in his awkward teenage years but had seen before. In a monster another man.

Danny’s future self was terrifying in its inhumanity, but it didn’t take that much of an imagination to know that he looked almost exactly like the man in the picture.

[kairos-polaris]

Eris(Demon’s daughter)

Demon's head daughter couldn't be anything other than perfect. She must master every martial art. Her education must be flawless. Failure is not a choice. Even the smallest mistake is a disgrace.

Marinette knew it. That’s why spent hours and hours training and perfectimg her form. But something was lacking and she craved to find it.

Chapter 2, 3, 4, 5

On the far east, high up in the mountains is a city, Nanda Parbat. There hides and lives Ra's al Ghul, the demon's head. 

The walls in Nanda Parbat have no warmth. They're permanently soaked in blood and death. At night you can hear the anguish screams of the long dead. 

In a small room without windows lives a girl with eyes as blue as sapphires and hair as black as night. Dark skin makes pale scars visible. 

The only welcome visitor is the girl's sister. She will tend to the girl's wounds and help her prepare for sleep. 

"You must be more careful, Marinette." Berated her Talia. "Your training will grow harder with time. You must be ready for this, ya albi. I can't lose you."

"Why do we have to train so hard?" 

"Father has a lot of enemies. We must know how to protect ourselves," Talia answers softly. 

"The League doesn't condone uselessness and everyone must reach a certain standard. It's even higher for us because of our father. And I am sure you enjoy a part of your training, don't you?"

"Yes, I enjoyed training with Lady Shiva. She taught me how to use a war fan. Dansen uchiwa* is my favorite, but mubuchae is nice, too." At her sister's questioning look she continued: It protects my arm and I can use it to dodge attacks. Then I will stab the attacker using balisong**. .. And I can also.." the next fifteen minutes were spent discussing different ways of using war fans and daggers. They briefly touched on the subject of Japanese martial arts and weapon making.

"...and that's why I prefer straight blades." Talia stopped talking and looked at Marinette. The girl was staring at the wall. 

"Why can't we just leave?" Marinette suddenly spoke. "We would go everywhere and stay nowhere. You could pose as my guardian. If anyone asked about parents, we would give them a sob story about their death." The brief training with Lady Shiva made the walls in Nanda Parbat feel more suffocating than before.

"Oh, ya albi, you know that's impossible. Father would track us down immediately. He has ears and eyes everywhere." Talia chuckled bitterly. Somehow her answer made Mari more enthusiastic. 

"But you want to run away! That's what matters! One day we will bribe Nyssa and she will help us. And we won't have to live under our father's tumb." 

Talia just hugged her sister. Getting out of the League of Shadows was impossible for them. Especially for them. She could only pray that Marinette would be happy one day.

***

Eight-year-old Marinette understood it the day she failed for the first time. She stood there, before her father, waiting for his verdict. The small voice in her head whispered how it wasn’t her fault, that even famous designers don’t have this much security as Gabriel Agreste does. “I should have been prepared for everything. This failure will be my lesson if I survive this,” she thought bitterly.

Demon's head daughter couldn't be anything other than perfect. She must master every martial art. Her education must be flawless. Failure is not a choice. Even the smallest mistake is a disgrace.

Demon's head daughter isn't a child, she's a weapon. A perfectly sharpened dagger.

"You failed me, Marinette. Not only you didn’t kill that man, but you were caught and Talia had to save you. As your master, I’m furious, as your father, I’m disappointed.”

The cold stone hurt her knees and her ears burnt from embarrassment. His words were sharper than the sharpest knife. That’s why he is called Demon’s Head after all.   

“I’m sorry, father. It won’t happen again. I..” Marinette tried her best not to falter under Ra’s’ glare.   “I don’t remember giving you permission to speak.” His words left goosebumps on her skin and Marinette had to bite her tongue to stay silent. “Your actions will have consequences, so be prepared for your punishment. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, father,” she answered softly, but Ra’s seemed satisfied and dismissed Marinette to her room. She left as fast as possible.In her room, she would think about the nature of punishment and try to be prepared. Hey, how does one prepare for their death?

Marinette was sure Ra’s wouldn’t let her walk away without proper punishment, but she decided to humor her sister.

***

After that Marinette had to spend even more time training and studying. Talia was happy to hear that. “Ya albi, if you continue training, you won’t fail again. You were lucky father decided to pardon you.”

Marinette spent a lot of time practicing with her blades and darts. War fans slowly became her weapon of choice. You can hide it. You can show off with it. There are multiple ways of using it making it perfect for Marinette.

Unfortunately, Marinette never used sharp tessen during practice. Later, Marinette would regret it, because fighting ten trained and armed assassins with two fans wasn’t her definition of fun.

Scratch it. It was hell. Given the number of attacks, she could avoid them only for so long. She couldn’t take out her daggers.

Swish. Kick. Jump. Repeat.

Marinette slowly rose from the water. The first thing she noticed was the absence of scars. "How many new scars will litter my skin before I die again?" She wondered silently.

Marinette was skilled, but so were the assassins. And it still took them an hour to take her down. “At least I managed to injure them, too.”    

***

Waking up in Lazarus' Pits wasn't something she wanted to repeat ever again. The water felt gross on her skin and the smell made her want to throw up.

Another prominent difference was anxiety she could feel in her bones. She craved to do something, to the blood of her killers on her hands, to feel how life leaves their bodies. A whisper in her head sung how glorious it would feel to get her revenge.

"It's not punishment when I feel so high and mighty, father. It's a gift I will treasure." With these words Marinette dug her nails into her arm, leaving small marks. The skin felt too clean for her.

“Marinette,” he greeted her. “I see you’re feeling better now. What is the reason behind your visit?”

In this state, Marinette didn't notice her sister entered. Talia stood there watching the last bits of Marinette's innocence fly to hell. It was the point of no return.

***

Ra’s was sitting in his room when he felt movement behind him.

Marinette tilted her head and slowly answered; “I wanted to ask your permission to return the favor.”

“You can do whatever you want to them. Just leave them alive. But you were very effective at taking them down, so three of them can’t stand.” This was the closest thing to praise she could ever hear from Ra’s al Ghul.

One time Talia gave her a book with Greek myths. It soon became her favorite book. She loved the stories about gods, and heroes, and monsters. The heroes knew when to kill and when to spare someone. Marinette could admire this.

“Thank you, father.” With a small nod, she left to enact her revenge. If there were more screams than usual, nobody paid attention to it.  

***

Reading was a great way to escape reality. Books told her about different worlds and people. Unfortunately, Ra’s had to approve every book given to her. Only for very significant achievement could she read something other than textbooks.

“I just don’t understand what you see in that fury! His enemies constantly escape Arkham and he still won’t kill them. His negligence hurts other people and they still call him a hero! Father respects him, too!” it wasn’t a common occurrence for them to argue about Batman, but Marinette was just too annoyed with Talia’s pinning.

“Bruce impressed our father with his skills and devotion to a cause. Bruce is hopeful. He believes everyone can change and be a better version of themselves. We know that’s not true and some people will never change.”

Marinette wasn’t impressed. “I know some people can’t change. We work with some of them.” Talia just laughed at her expression..

“One day you will fall in love. That day you will understand me.”

“Ew, disgusting. I will never, ever fall in love. Especially not with a hero. I’m sure of it.”  Talia just shook her head fondly. Her little sister still has so much to learn.

“And where will you go, Marinette?” Asked Talia. Marinette spared her a glance noting bags under her eyes and multiple cuts.

***

Eleven-year-old Marinette had an agency. She had a goal. She knew what she wanted to do.

“Gotham. I will tell Batman everything I know about the Light. But don’t think I do it to help him. I want to destroy everything for our father.” She threw a suitcase with much more force than needed.

“Why now? You seemed so eager to please him.”

“Pits did something with my brain and changed my memories about The fight. I thought it was their own decision. With this knowledge I asked father for permission to avenge myself. My overall perception of him changed.”

“And now you are angry. But you shouldn’t run away like this. Batman won’t trust you. He will think you are a double agent sent by the League.” Marinette just grinned at that.

“I will give B information and leave immediately. I’m going to travel the world. I have money and I can take care of myself.” Talia sighed and took Marinete’s face in her hands.

“I know I can’t change your mind, but please be safe, ya albi.” She whispered softly.

“Thank you, Tals.”

“You are more important to me than our father.”

[baticorngirl]

Title: Scribbles of Love

Rating: General Audiences

Relationship(s): Talia Al Ghul/Bruce Wayne (Brutalia), Talia Al Ghul & Unnamed Child, Bruce Wayne & Unnamed Child,

Characters: Talia Al Ghul, Bruce Wayne, Minor Original Character(s),

Summary: Miraculously, Bruce and Talia have been married for quite a long time now. In fact, their first year anniversary is coming around the corner, and it's suddenly dawned on Bruce that he doesn't have anything to give her. He soon decides he wants to give her a love poem, but there's only one problem: Bruce sucks at writing poetry. As the anniversary comes closer and closer, will Bruce manage to write a half-decent love poem in time?

A/N: This fic is for @brutalia-week Day 1: “I made it for you”. It takes place in an alternate universe where Batman: Son of the Demon worked out. I think that’s all you need to know before you begin, so... enjoy!

(The fanfic is under the line below, but if you’d prefer to, you can also read it on Ao3(x) and FF.net (x)!)

__________________________________________________

Talia was training, as usual. Her feet were planted to the ground like a tree's deep roots, with her knees bent ever so slightly to get a good stance. The smile on her face was soft, but she made sure her strikes were anything but. Like Ra's has taught her so many years back, her moves were smooth and fast, a bit graceful… but powerful. The sword in her hand would've demolished anything in its path, as it zoomed around the room…. if she had been aiming for anything but an imaginary opponent, that is. Her hair flew into the air as she abruptly bent down (while still attempting to keep her feet as well-planted as possible) to swipe her "opponent's" feet. She pulled up and jumped, imagining that they were doing the same move back to her. Continuing to imagine each move, her arm twisted and turned to hit their sword back every time, getting faster and faster and faster and faster and…..

Knock, knock. Talia pulled herself up, mentally clearing herself from the perilous fight, at the sound of knuckles softly pounding on the door. "Come in," She called, slowly trotting over to the door. Just outside the door, Batman stood. His cowl was casually flung back to uncover his real face, and as he began to pull on his gloves and belt, it became clear he was about to get out of the vigilante gear. He sighed, neglecting to look at her as the pulling became more of just fidgeting and less of actually pulling them off.

"I… have to go." He began, his eyes still looking off into the distance. "It's just… a… small errand. I won't be long. Maybe an hour or two, but….. I can't keep watching the baby while I'm gone so I figured I should let you know." He immediately turned and began walking away as soon as he had conveyed the necessary information. Talia's eyebrow rose, noticing the odd behavior, but quickly shrugged it off. Her husband always acted secretive, so she doubted there was anything to worry about.

"Okay, Beloved. Farewell!" She quickly leaned in to kiss him on the cheek a moment before he left. Batman turned back towards her, his classic vacant expression turning into a smile for a moment. It only took less than a moment to go back to normal, though, as he quickly continued walking and went into a walk-in closet to get ready for his "errand". Once he was out of sight, Talia made her own way over to the baby's nursery in the opposite direction.

She swiftly picked the baby up, watching as the baby's eyes lit up in a giggle. The baby continued to smile and laugh even more as she kissed his small, round little nose. Talia rocked her child in her arms, ambling around the nursery. Soon, the high-pitched laughter had faded into the peaceful squeaks of a sleeping infant. The baby was slowly set back down into his crib. Talia patted his little head as gently as she could, before setting up the baby monitor and going to a nearby room to train a bit more.

Meanwhile, Bruce had just arrived at what he had told Talia was just an errand. He went into the front door, and was greeted by a friendly-looking person, sitting on a lounge chair just a few feet in. They smiled at him, and motioned for him to sit down at one of the many desks spaced around the room.

"Welcome. You're a bit early, so we'll just be getting started in a few minutes." They explained. He simply nodded in return. Luckily for him, they seemed to be unaware of his fame back in Gotham. Talia had still been doing some work under Ra's, and so they hadn't been in Gotham for quite a while due to where her father wanted her. Bruce had been enjoying the lack of fame and the dreaded paparazzi through their whole trip, and this was no exception.

Silence followed for a few moments. They both looked down their laps, unsure what to do or say. Awkwardness plagued them both, but eventually, the person in front of Bruce decided to start talking again to get rid of it.

"I'm sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Riley, what's your name?" They asked, reaching a hand out to shake hands. Bruce put his hand out as well, and they shook for a few seconds before he answered the question.

"My name is B-" He quickly got interrupted by a flood of people coming in. The clock had finally ticked that it was 10:00, meaning it was the exact time to start. Everyone sat down quietly. Riley jumped up from their chair, rushing up to the front.

"Welcome to this poetry class, everyone. I assume all of you are here to improve your knowledge of poetry to a level beyond what you were taught in school, or possibly even to build up to a career as a poet. My name is Riley, and I'm your instructor." They explained, and a wave of nodding ran through their audience. Bruce nodded, but stared for a moment in awe of the fact that he hardly remembered even just what he had been taught in school about poetry. He looked down at the desk in front of him, the idea finally occurring to him that maybe focusing all his later teenage years on training to become Batman instead of paying attention to High School was a mistake.

But there was nothing he could do about it now. Poetry hadn't ever been necessary until this situation. But here he was, lying to Talia that he was just "going out on an errand", because there was absolutely no way he could write her a love poem without extra help. It was an embarrassment, really, but poetry just wasn't one of his strong points. It required so much emotion, so much expression of it, and expressing his emotions just wasn't something Bruce naturally did.

"Of course, this is more of a beginner class, so even though some of you may become poets some day, we'll be starting with the basics for today's class." Riley continued the class introduction. Bruce sighed in relief. Perhaps he would actually be able to follow what the instructor was talking about, and be able to give Talia a half-decent poem when it was over. "First of all, most good poems have a lot of figurative languages. These are things that stretch the literal meanings of the words you use, and create an image or effect using them. Some examples are how saying 'Your eyes looked like stars' is a simile, a type of figurative language. There's also metaphors, which are essentially the same thing, but without using the word 'like'."

Bruce thought about this for a moment, and got out a piece of paper to attempt to start his poem with some figurative language. "What's Talia like?" He mumbled, remembering everything about her that he loved so much. She was such a good fighter, and yet kind of graceful, which he was sure he could relate to something, so he took note of that. Her eyes were kind of jewel-like, shiny and beautiful, and her dark brown hair was like chocolate, so he wrote that down, as well.

But most of all, what he loved about her was how much she tried for love. Even though everyone would say that her fighting abilities are her greatest power, her secret weapon, Bruce knew none of those meant anything. Not without the love she used those abilities for, at least. He wasn't quite sure how to say this poetically, though, so he decided to get back to it later.

Eventually, the class ended, and Bruce came back home. Then, next week, he went back to the class and continued to work on his poem. Every week this continued, until their anniversary came around. By then, his poem was nowhere near perfect, but he had tried. There was no way he could back out now, after spending so much time working on it.

Bruce stuffed the poem inside his pocket, and went to their room to get Talia. She sat on a stool, brushing her hair nonchalantly. She had already gotten changed into a beautiful dress, going down to her ankles with embroideries. Bruce stared for a moment, thunderstruck. An embarrassingly goofy smile was on his face, but he quickly shook it off and returned to his default, impassive expression.

"Are you ready, Talia?" Bruce asked, reaching his hand out to help her up. Talia got up herself, but took his hand anyway, nodding. Both bringing along a present, the couple held hands as they made their way to the car. They were planning on going to a fancy restaurant for their anniversary, and exchanging gifts after dinner.

"I can't believe it's been a year since we finally got together, Beloved." Talia said once they were in the car, smiling, "It's been so happy. We were so sad, and we kept having to reject each other, but then this happened, and now… I don't think anything will ever get in between us again." She clutched her necklace, thinking back to the time, almost a year ago, that he had given it to her. For once, she could think about that kind of time with pure joy and hope, instead of longing.

"Yes… I don't usually consider myself cheerful, but you're right. I honestly don't think we could be happier." Bruce looked down at his lap, lost in thought. "That baby is going to have everything. Our love, a family, a home, and of course, happiness. We've really done it." He mumbled.

Talia nodded, right as they pulled up to the restaurant. She scooched out of the car, pulling Bruce along with her. They went inside together, got seated, and ordered their food. As they waited, they decided it might be fun to give each other hints about the presents.

"I'm going to give you two gifts, technically." Bruce explained, feeling his pocket for the poem, plus the earrings he was going to give her along with it. "One's just…. A fairly basic anniversary gift. But the other thing, well, it's a bit more from the heart… I suppose. I don't know, I tried to make it special." He sighed.

Talia smiled, "That sounds wonderful, Beloved. I can't wait to see it." Bruce gulped at the thought that he may have gotten his hopes up for his half-baked writing, but she didn't seem to notice his nerves. "I just got you something basic, too, but it's the sort of thing that's customized to be quite special."

"That sounds wonderful, too." He replied, reaching across to put his hand on top of hers romantically. She wrapped her hand around his in reciprocation. They both leaned in to kiss, smiling.

"Here is your food," They both got knocked out of their romantic moment by the sound of their waiter's voice. They both pulled out of the kiss, and leaned back on to their own chairs. "Oh, was I interrupting something?" The waiter asked with a chuckle, before setting down both their dishes in front of the one who ordered it.

The waiter left, and both Talia and Bruce ate dinner. They talked and smiled as they ate, both attempting to get the other one to slip up and tell them what their present was, with little to no success. Soon, both Bruce and Talia were finished eating, and they quickly got out their presents.

Talia picked up a bag that Bruce had noticed she'd been carrying along throughout the trip, and reached inside. Out she pulled a little box, wrapped in bright, colorful, wrapping. She pushed it in front of Bruce, grinning.

"Go ahead, open it." She insisted. Bruce slowly began to peel the wrapping off, and opened the box that was inside the wrapping. Inside was a beautiful pendant, covered in small gems of all kinds of shapes and colors. The jewels sparkled, almost like magic, and a smile grew on Bruce's face.

"It's… beautiful." He commented, flipping it over in his hands cautiously. He stared, mesmerized at all the jewels. His fingers clutched it tightly. Talia's grin only grew. He was even more happy with it than she thought he'd be, and he hadn't even opened it yet.

"Open the pendant, it's even specialer inside." She nudged, slightly impatient. Listening to her words, Bruce gently flipped the pendant open. Inside, there was a picture of their sweet little baby. Talia reached over, touching a little bump on the back. He flipped it over, realizing it was a knob. Talia turned it, and the image changed to a picture of herself. "There's quite a few different pictures in it, and the knob changes it. I tried to get all of your closest loved ones, plus a picture of yourself in case you're ever in the mood to be vain." She laughed.

Bruce pulled it closer to himself to see it better, and began switching the knob between them all. "I… I love it." He leaned over to her, quickly pecking her on the cheek. "It's perfect." Her smile grew even more than it already had as he opened it. Bruce adjusted the knob to be on Talia again, and put it on.

"I'm really glad." Talia reached over and squeezed Bruce's hand. "Now, would you like to get out what you're giving me?" She beamed with excitement, almost as much as she had beamed when he opened his own. Bruce pulled the earrings out of his pocket, and nudged them in front of his wife.

"I suppose I thought you might like those, but I put a lot more effort into my other gift." Bruce spoke cautiously, too focused to let himself smile anymore. Talia took the earrings, which were actually quite beautiful and expensive, and exchanged the earrings she was wearing currently with them. As she does that, he pulls his poem out of his pocket. "I wrote you something. I know you were probably concerned about how I kept going out at the same time each week without telling you where I was going, but that was just because I had to take a writing class if I wanted to make this even slightly decent."

Talia frowned, "You keep a lot of secrets, but it's nice to know that at least one of them was out of love, and not fear or mistrust. Either way, thank you for the earrings. They are more than beautiful." She let go of the frown quickly after getting it, and gestured for Bruce to go on. "Now, I'm more than excited to hear what you've made. Go ahead."

"When you are here, I can only think about you, But even when you are far, I simply do it with longing, too;

I love you all the time, Day… or night, In the ocean, ground, or even sky, And this why:

Your eyes look like jades, And your smile like beauty in a solid form; You hair looks like silky chocolate, Your entire body is something I adore;

You are stronger than you seem, But so very graceful, as well; You fight stronger than a demon, With an angel's good intent, and morale;

Yes, you move like a swan, But much, much, more than that:

You love deeper than anyone could ever know, Just something that you have taught yourself, Your intentions are more than just moral, But an emotion, in itself;

So with that much personality, It is my honor to be able to love you back."

Bruce spoke the poem as clearly as he could, trying not to stutter or chicken out. It felt odd, showing this much emotion, but in a good way. Once he was finished, he looked up from his poem, smiling. Talia was rubbing her cheeks, wiping away the tears that had formed. Bruce leaned over to kiss the unoccupied hand, desperately attempting to make the moment even more romantic.

Before he had leaned back on to his own chair, Talia quickly pulled him into a kiss, "I love it, Beloved. Almost as much as I love you." She took the paper from Bruce's hand, folding it up and putting it in her pocket. "If you don't mind, I want to be able to remember this moment. Forever."

"Of course," Bruce said, trying to pretend he wasn't surprised that she had liked his poem so much. Perhaps she was simply humoring him to spare his feelings, but if she was, she was doing an incredibly good job at it.

They quickly paid for the meal. Bruce and Talia both beamed as they rode off into the night, hand in hand.

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A/N: Okay, now that you're done, some disclaimers:

I am not necessarily saying Bruce's poem was actually bad. He views it as bad, and it's certainly not perfect, but... I'm not necessarily saying it's bad myself, if that makes sense, (although I definitely did purposely not spend too much time on it when I was writing this).

Also, I'm not sure where this fanfic takes place, lol. It's just not in Gotham, but the rest if up for interpretation.

Oh, and I'm aware this entire fanfic is quite boring. The plot isn't very interesting, I'm afraid, but... oh well.

[batfam-imagines]

Choices

A/N: This one is a little long, and was an idea that has been stuck in my head for awhile. Not all of my ideas managed to make it into the story, mainly because I’m not that good of a writer!

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this! Italics mean sign-language. I know that’s not how the word structure of real sign-language works, but it’s just easier to write this way.

———————————————————————————–

Bruce watches the two videos in utter horror.  One is of Robin, his second son, his Jason, being beaten with a crowbar by Joker, and the other is of Sparrow, Jason’s best friend, Bruce’s only daughter, being held at knife-point by Harley Quinn. Bruce had an impossible decision to make. He could only save one of his children, which one was is going to be?

--

Batman’s knees buckle, his fingers scrabbling frantically through the rubble, desperate for any sign of life. He couldn’t have been too late. Joker had made him choose. He’d made his choice, and had still been too late. He couldn’t be too late.

“Batsy, Batsy, Batsy!” The Jokers voice seems to echo through Bruce’s head, it takes his sluggish brain a moment to realize he must have stolen a Comm unit. “Just a few minutes too late, Batsy! Poor little bird just kept beggin’ for ya! He was so confident that you’d show!” The scrape of a knife on metal is loud even over the Comm, “Now. What am I gonna do with this pretty little thing?”

Harley’s loud laughter seemingly echo’s through Bruce’s head at the realization: they still have Y/N. One of his children is still in danger. “Why don’t we cut off all her feathers, Mista J?! Birdies can’t fly without feathers!”

“Not a bad idea, Harley, but I was thinking something a little more … permanent” Bruce feels like he’s paralyzed. He’d never found out where they’d been holding Y/N because he’d been so focused on finding Jason, he thought he would have more time. “She’s been screamin’ an awful lot since we killed that other bird, why not make it so the bird can’t sing anymore!”

Finally, Bruce finds the strength to respond, “No! Joker, you said I had to choose! You said I could save one!”

Another manic cackle spills directly into Bruce’s ear, “And you could have saved one. You could have saved that little street-rat of a Robin, but you were too late. You made your choice, Batman, and you chose wrong” It’s obvious that Joker is moving. The knife continuous to scrape along metal, and those horrible gut-wrenching screams grow louder every second. “There’s no need for the tears, pretty bird! You’ll be joinin’ him soon enough!”

“Joker! You can’t do this!” Bruce can almost picture it, one of Joker’s hands in Y/N’s hair and yanking her head back, the other holding one of Y/N’s own knives to her throat.

“Oh, Batsy, when are you going to learn. I can do whatever I want!” There’s a slick sound of the knife cutting deep, and then harsh gurgles. Somewhere in back of Bruce’s mind he knows that the Joker must have taken out the Comm and help it right up to Y/N slit throat. After less than a minute, the gurgling quiets, “See what happens, Batsy, when you bring children into our game?”

--

Talia al Ghul watches the two figures move listlessly through Gotham’s streets. She turns to one of her guards, “And you are sure it’s them?”

“Yes, Mistress. We have had our spies watching them for two months now. The way they fight is a match to the deceased Robin and Sparrow”

“Interesting. We will be taking them back to the Compound with us. Gather the men, I will gather my Beloved’s children.”

Talia scales down the building, landing several feet in front of the two teenagers. Almost immediately the girl, Y/N if she remembers correctly, is in front of the much more injured male. Y/N’s vacant eyes hover near Talia, and she lets out a shrill whistle that makes Jason tense.

“I am not here to hurt you, little ones. I am here to help you, to get you off the street,” Y/N let out a curious sounding whistle, and Jason hummed softly in response. “That’s right, somewhere safe”

Slowly the two inched towards Talia, Y/N still keeping herself firmly between Jason any anyone else. Talia grinned, these two were the ticket to her Beloved’s heart. These two would become her perfect weapons.

--

It wasn’t until several weeks later that Talia’s father joined her in observing the two teenagers fight. While their minds had not been fully restored to them, their ability to fight had been.

“The girl has potential. Even without her mind, she fights with thought. The boy, however, he is not unlike a rabid dog, his only thought is to survive.” Ra’s watches as Y/N takes down one of the League members who had been sneaking up on Jason, “And yet they always fight for each other.”

“They care for each other, even though they do not who they themselves are. And they care for children. Many nights I have found Y/N or Jason, or both of them in Damian’s room, or indulging him in play fights” Talia watches her father out of the corner of her eye, “They both have potential, I just need a little more time to reach -”

“Enough, daughter. These pets of yours are taking up too much of your time. I have already allowed you to keep Damian, but I cannot allow you to keep both the child and these two.” Ra’s turns to completely face his daughter, “You have a choice to make, and I would suggest you choose wisely”

--

Talia had made her choice. She could not kill two children that her Beloved loved so much, and she could no longer bare to endanger her son. She had gathered as many people loyal to her as possible and was going to try and pull off an impossible scheme. She was going to use the Lazarus Pit on Y/N and Jason, and then have them run as far and as fast as possible with Damian. If this plan doesn’t work, then all of them would be dead by morning.

--

It had worked. Somehow Talia’s plan to get you, Jason, and Damian to safety had worked. The little four-year-old was curled up in your lap, having fallen asleep soon after the private jet took off. Jason is still shaking, the aftereffects of the Pit not having worn off yet.

Snapping your fingers, Jason’s eyes latch onto your hands, “Are you okay?” Even though the Pit had left nothing, but a scar wrapped around your throat, it had not been able to restore your voice to you. Thankfully Bruce had made you and Jason learn basic sign-language to communicate on stealth missions, and the two of you had just continued the education, becoming fluent.

“I’m fine. Everything feel so … fresh, you know? And I’m so damn angry at B for choosing me over you, and then getting both of us killed anyway”

“Watch swearing around Damian. And we got ourselves into the mess, it was our fault. It’s in the past. Focus on now”

“I know, I know. We get a second chance at life even if we both have crazy PTSD and Pit-Madness. Now we’re off to travel the world for a few years with a toddler to become the most deadly assassins alive” Jason rakes a hand through his now white streaked hair, “This will be freaking fantastic, Y/N”

“Better than being dead” Damian starts to stir in your lap from the constant hand movements. His jade-green eyes blinking up at you. “Good morning, little prince”

The smile he flashes at you would brighten even Gotham’s rainiest day, “Good morning, ‘Gale!”

Jason snorts and ruffles Damian’s hair, “Her name isn’t Gale, kid. Her name is Y/N”

Damian rolls his eyes with all the attitude a four-year-old could muster, and considering he was raised by Talia, it was a lot. “I know that, dummy! But she whistles like the Nightingales in Mother’s room. Nightingale is her new super name; I don’t have one for you Jay”

“It’s okay, little man. We’ll figure one out for me and you sometime soon. Okay?”

The little boy grins, “Okay. Where are we going?” This time he looks up at you for an answer, but you gently tap you throat and shake your head. “You still can’t talk? The green water didn’t fix you all the way?”

“No, it didn’t. When we were hurt, there were some things that couldn’t be healed all the way.” Jason glances over at you, at the scar the barely peeks out from the turtleneck.

“How can I talk to Y/N then?!” Damian’s lower lip wobbles dangerously.

“Don’t worry, kid. Y/N can talk with her hands, it’s called sign-language. Both us will teach you, and then you’ll be able to talk to Y/N as much as you want, okay?” Immediately Damian brightens, and demands to be taught something. “Alright, lets learn the alphabet first.” And that’s how the rest of the plane ride is spent, with you and Jason teaching Damian how to sign the alphabet.

--

It takes another six years for the three of you to end up back on Gotham, and the main reason you’re there is so Jason can kill the Joker.

“Jay, I still don’t think this is the best idea. We said that we were going to stay away from Batman, not antagonize him”

“I am in pain right now, Y/N. Can you patch me up and save the lecturing for later” Jason gingerly lays down along the couch as you pull out the first aid kit, “And plus, it’s not like I went looking for him! He and Dickhead attacked me!”

“Language, Jason. You know Y/N does not like it when you swear around me” Damian quietly closes his book and surveys the damage done to the only fatherly figure in his life, “I could kill them for you”

“Listen, kid, if I couldn’t take them, then you couldn’t take them” Jason hisses as you pour alcohol over one of his cuts, “And plus, Y/N doesn’t want you to go out while we’re in Gotham. Batman might find you”

Damian rolls his eyes, “I do not care about Bruce Wayne or Batman. He does not even know I exist. I do not need a father; I already have one”

“Aw, Dami, you’re gonna make me choke up!”

The ten-year-old scoffs, “I made my choice many years ago. You two are the only family I need. My father does not know of my existence, my mother never tried to contact me after sending me away, and my grandfather is constantly trying to kill me”

“We love you too, Damian. We can go out tomorrow night if you want, Jason will be resting” You throw a glare at Jason who just holds up his hands and grins.

“Whatever you want, sweetheart. Just as long as you bring back some tacos from that truck on 17th, the owner likes you more than me.”

Damian grins, “Of course, they have the best vegetarian tacos”

--

Damian, as always, is eager to put on his mask and hit the rooftops. Unlike Jason whose main goal is to cause chaos and keep all the focus on him, you and Damian are meant to stay under the radar, to gather as much information as possible.

“Stay low, stay quiet. Do not draw attention to yourself. If we are found, you hide, I will handle it. Understand, Shadow?” Being in the field without a voice is dangerous, it means if you get in trouble the only way someone can find you is if they can hear you whistle or follow the tracker that only Jason and Damian have access to.

“I know, ‘Gale. I will be careful, Batman will not even know I am in the city, I swear”

“Good. Now, let’s go before Jason comes with us” Jason chuckles from his seat on the couch and flips you the bird.

--

“The city is quiet tonight.” You glance over at Damian to see him perched slightly under one of the many gargoyles, trying to get out of the rain. “It does not seem as foul on nights such as this”

You snort, “Now that you said that, something is going to happen. Besides, I thought I told you to go home. You’ll get sick”

“I will not get sick from rain.”

Before you can reply, three figures land one a nearby building. Barely moving, you send a quick sign to Damian, one of the first words you had taught him, “Hide”

Immediately Damian slips further into the shadows, his much smaller body easy sliding between the stone structures. It takes almost 20-minutes for Batman, Robin, and Nightwing to finally leave, and another 15 for you to be sure they’re gone. “Come out, it’s safe”

“I hate this city. I hate that Jason feels the need to seek revenge and torment your former family. Why didn’t you and I wait for him elsewhere, like we had planned? Seeing them terrifies you, and that makes me hate them”

“I chose to come here with Jason. He needs us to keep him sane, and this city drives people insane much faster than most. When we lived on the streets together as children, Jason and I promised to always stay together, no matter what. We are here to protect Jason and to help him, little prince, that is what we chose to do as a family”

Damian lets out another sigh, “Fine, but as long as we’re in the city I want to fight Robin at least once, to prove that I am superior”

“Whatever you want. Now, let’s go mix up some trouble, I’m getting a little bored” You flash a bright smile at Damian and ruffle his wet hair.

“Sounds fun. I’ve been wanting to try out my knew knives”

“And then tacos. We can’t forget the tacos or Jason won’t let us hear the end of it”

———————————————————————————–

Let me know what you think! Send any ideas or requests you have to my Ask Box!

[bluboothalassophile]

I'm crazy about your stories! You wrote "failure" a long time ago and I BEG you to continue it! the story was exciting and I want to know more about atha's childhood! I wonder if she failed in that battle. and how old is she in your ff? please do the sequel!

Hello,

Failure is set in my Hopes for a Bastard Universe, and she and Jason are the exact same age; I think Athanasia is slightly older but not by much. In Failure she’s about sixteen or fifteen, and yes, she failed in battle.

Athanasia is set to be a main character in The Damn Prince of Gotham. Which is set after On the Way to Hell! Wait!... Wrong Turn!, so we have a wee bit before we get there.

But here’s a snippet, Spoilers for Hopes for a Bastard ahead.

Damned Prince of Gotham

It had not been easy breaking into here, but she sat there in the dark, the gun on the table, as the icy New York winter damp air had her breath showing. He would be home soon, she knew that. She had been tracking him.

Her breath was coming out in damp puffs as the cold air pricked at her skin. She was just waiting for him, he was the best she knew, the most dangerous she knew, and at this point, he was her only help.

She would not be here if she had a choice, but there was no choice at this point.

His door opened, she tensed as her eyes snapped up and she stared at him with his eyes glowing in the dark, gun was raised to her head. She did not grab her weapon as she stared levelly at her grandfather’s rogue prize.

“You have to the count of three to tell me who the fuck sent you,” he snarled, the city light illuminated him now. The J marring his face made him look more menacing than the Pit glowing in his eyes. He was large, bigger than she remembered and had anticipated, and his face was controlled apathy as he glared at her. There was tension in his frame but she couldn’t figure out where he was going to move in order to strike her down.

“I need your help,” she said in a clipped voice, keeping all emotions out of her voice.

“Lady I don’t even know you,” he growled.

“Jason Todd, also known as Shabh, Red Hood, Red X, Batman, Nightwing, Red Robin, Signal, Robin, Agent Penny,” she said. His eyes were now glowing dangerously bright. “You are the only one to have beaten Ra’s al Ghul in a duel, I was there, I witnessed it.”

“Talia send you?” he growled.

“Mother is unaware of my existence,” she replied. “Grandfather saw to that. I need your help, brother.”

“I don’t think,” he started.

“I am Athanasia al Ghul, I am the first daughter of the Demon’s Fist and the Bat, I need your help brother,” she stated. Standing she pulled the file out, dropping it open on the table of his warehouse. “Precisely thirty-nine hours ago I was hired to steal an AI program code named Brainiac. I was hired to steal and destroy it by it’s creator, leader of the Science Guild in New Krypton; I was attacked by Grant Wilson; a.k.a.,”

“Ravager,” Jason answered, slowly lowering his weapon.

“I need your help,” she repeated.

“Go talk to B,” he snapped. She bit her lip as she took a step away from Jason, he was massive, a prowling predator as he stalked towards the table, she carefully kept it between them. It wasn’t much of a deterrent but it was better than nothing. Athanasia was good, she knew she was, but she could never be able to beat Jason Todd; no one could; she had witnessed her grandfather’s first taste of fear facing off against Jason.

But there was more, Grant Wilson and Jason Todd had both been in the League and rivals. Well, she did not know if Jason saw Grant as his rival, but because of her status she was well aware of how Grant viewed Jason Todd. Her brother eyed her warily before he flipped through her file, his weapon was held close to him; a close quarter’s technique; she knew it well. He paused at a photo then his eyes flicked to her again.

“Go talk to B,” he stated flipping her folder shut and shoving it at her. “I don’t do Bat shit.”

“I… can’t,” she whispered. She wanted him to understand. She needed him to understand. If anyone could it would be he! “He is not aware of my… existence,” she said carefully. Bruce Wayne, the Bat, the hero all heroes and villains feared, the greatest detective, the only man alive to outsmart her grandfather, the hero who never killed. He was perfect.

Athanasia al Ghul was not worthy of the title of being his daughter. She was not worthy to be a Wayne, or a Bat. She was a killer, a thief, a hacker, an avenger.

Jason stared balefully back at her.

“I need YOUR help brother,” she clarified.

“I don’t do family shit.” He snapped. “Now get,” he snapped.

“Grant will come for you,” she said as he waved her off as he stalked towards the door and yanked it open. “He is in possession of the most powerful AI which will inform him who you are.”

“Grant Wilson can go fuck himself for all I care.” Jason snapped.

“But…!”

“Listen lady, I got my own shit to deal with!” he snapped. “I got my own problems and own issues, none of which involve this bullshit being dragged up from the past; which is dead and fucking buried.”

“You know better than most that the past will never stay buried,” she whispered as she picked up her file.

“Go talk to Bats, but otherwise, no.”

“You cannot hide from your past forever, brother,” she whispered.

“Look, Athena-”

“Athanasia,” she corrected.

“Whatever. This is not my problem. I don’t do family shit.”

“I can help you find Solitary,” she offered.

Now his head snapped over to her. “You help me destroy Brainiac, I will hand you Solitary on a silver platter.”

“And what do you know about Solitary?”

“Nothing, but I will find out everything for you, brother,” she whispered.

“And how are you going to do that?” he asked. Jason was smiling rather sharkishly at her then; which had a chill run down her spin.

“I am TH3GH0ST, there is nothing I cannot find out,” she said.

“I retrieve Brainiac and you give me Solitary?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“We have an accord,” he said holding his hand out. She accepted it; shocked at it’s rough callouses, and the massive strength in his firm shake. He snatched up the file and started flipping through it.

“Thank you, brother,” she said.

“I’m not your brother,” he snapped as he walked off.

[athanasia-alghul]

Batgirls Fancast

So here we are again! I’ve been waiting to post this for a long time. Buckle up, kiddos!

Madelaine Petsch as Barbara Gordon - Batgirl/Oracle

Barbara is by far one of my favorite characters. She’s incredibly smart, brave and determined, but she’s also kind, sweet and protective. She’s very independent and always a badass. This girl was, and still is a role model for me, so I’m sure no cast will meet my expectations. But, if I had to choose someone to play her in the big screen, it’d be Madelaine. She proved herself capable of portraying complex characters.

Kiernan Shipka as Stephanie Brown - Robin/Spoiler

Steph is a sweet character, but that’s just at first sight. Underneath that sweet face there’s a girl who wont take a no for an answer, she’s brave, energetic and steadfast. I feel like Kiernan is capable of playing this role because while she looks very sweet and innocent, we’ve seen that she’s also capable of being somewhat frightening and, to be honest, really badass. 

Jing Tian as Cassandra Cain - Batgirl/Black Bat

Cass is a tricky character to cast due to her upbringing. Being raised among assassins, educated to be a weapon rather than a person, she relies a lot in her body language. Cass didn’t know how to speak for a long time, didn’t know how to properly interact with others normally, so the actress who plays this role needs to be capable of saying a lot just by relying in her body rather than her words. And I feel like Jing Tian has the experience to do that.

Evan Rachel Wood as Kate Kane - Batwoman

I always saw Kate as the kind of woman who made you think about the word “strong” when you laid eyes on her. She has a certain playful spark, but she wont take shit from anyone, not even her dear cousin Batman. This woman stands her ground. So I wanted an actress that could radiate that, and Evan Rachel Wood was the final winner. And just as our beautiful Kate, she’s jewish.

Marie Avgeropoulos as Helena Wayne - Huntress

Bruce’s and Selina’s biological daughter from another earth. She’s beautiful and deadly smart. Much like her father she’s a rather cold and harsh young girl, especially so when it comes to fighting crime. She’s serious when the situation calls for it, but has a sense of humor that’s pretty much her mother’s. Needless to say, this is a complex character to portray, and I think that Marie could do a pretty good job at it.

Natassia Halabi as Athanasia Al Ghul - Daughter of the Bat

There’s not much information about her besides that she’s Damian’s sister, hidden by Talia and trained just like her brother. She seems to be a though girl with a harsh character, loyal to her blood, mostly her mother and grandfather. She proved herself capable of subsiding her brother, Damian, when he was being particularlly rude to her. I’m not sure if Natassia could pull the hard part of the character, but it’s unlikely we’ll be seeing this girl in the big screen anytime soon. Still, this girl, just like Athanasia, is a mixed middle eastern descent (from Syria). 

Ruby Rose as Harper Row - Bluebird

I know Ruby Rose has been casted to play Batwoman. And tho I can’t really complain a lot about her performance, I think she would be way better as Harper. This was a girl who grew up in the narrows of Gotham, and endured abuse, poverty and abandonment. She’s though, straigh-forward, and doesn’t take shit from anyone. She’s dealed with bullies and abusive relationships, and yet she proved to be stronger than the circumstances. If you don’t think that Ruby could totally nail it as Harper, then you’re blind. 

And the honorary mention...

Morena Baccarin as Selina Kyle - Catwoman

I was going to wait until I made the rogues’ fancast, but I just couldn’t leave her out. She’s a great part of Bruce’s life as well as an amazing character. Really, I could talk for ages about Selina or about all the reasons why Morena is the perfect cast for her.