#and damian is just like 'you hold no authority over me white man' before him and jon run off to eat the mini finger food

[ponyosfrogg]

INBETWEEN

Summary: You wake up with no memory of who you are. Determined to find the truth and unveiling mysteries, you also test familial bonds.

Pairings (?): This is the first part of Tim Drake x Reader fanfic. Thinking about enemies to lovers dynamic. There will be a lot of mystery, angst, fluff and eventual smut.

Author Note: In this fic they don't have a lot of age gap but since i don't like the specific age mentioned in fics, i won't be saying anything about it. It's the first chapter of a long series. It's a Female wayne! fic. And English is not my first language, my work might have a lot of mistakes, sorry about them in advance. I hope you guys enjoy it, this fic holds a special part in my heart!

Warning: Some of the themes and contents written in this fic might be upsetting for some of the readers, read at your own risk. Some parts have strong language.

Damian paced anxiously in the green room, his mind filled with worry. Although he tried to hide it, his hands were sweaty with fear. His sister was laying unconscious on the white bed, and he felt a pang of guilt knowing that he had failed to protect her once again. He loved his sister more than anything, perhaps even more than himself.

Dick couldn't bear to see Damian's distressed state any longer. He continued to stroke your hair without removing his hand and called out to Damian, "Don't worry, I'm sure she'll be fine." At that point, even his optimistic personality was struggling. The worried child became even more angry at the calm reassurance. "Don't tell me not to worry! She's been unconscious for nearly four hours now, and the fucking person who did this is watching from the corner of the room!" Clenching his teeth, Damian attempted to approach Tim, but Jason blocked his path. "Calm down, kid. He said he didn't do it on purpose. You know better than anyone what happens when we are sparring. "

"It doesn't matter if he didn't do it on purpose! If she doesn't wake up, I'll kill him.." Tim replied nonchalantly. "Feel free to try, devil." Rolling his eyes without an attempt to hide it. These words and this attitude triggered Damian. If there's one thing you need to know about Damian, it's that he is an impatient person. Just as he was preparing to jump on Tim, Dick's firm voice stopped everyone. "She's waking up!"

You opened your eyes with a sharp pain in your head. It felt like a heavy train had passed over your body over and over again. The pain in your head enveloped your neck and entire body. As you attempted to sit up slowly, a few hands pushed you back onto the bed. "It's too early for you to get up." A voice you didn't recognize spoke in a reassuring tone. You struggled to part your lips and asked the question. "Where am I?" You had a thirst which made you feel like you've never drunk any water for your whole life now.

"You're with me." A younger voice spoke and you felt someone holding your hand. The voice felt very familiar yet distant. You fully opened your eyes and saw the faces standing before you. There was a boy (?) or just a young looking man holding your hand and the other guy sitting next to you watched you with smile. When you tried to pull your hand away and move back, your head throbbed with pain and you let a painful whimper leave your lips. "Who are you both?" You sat up more in bed and tried to distance yourself from them as much as possible. The young boy who had held your hand lost his smile because of your reaction.

"I'm Damian, don't you remember me?." As the child approached the bed, you retreated further as if you could merge into the wall. Seeing this, the older looking guy who stood next to you, slightly taller than the others, stopped Damian. "Can you tell us the last thing you remember, sweetheart?" His voice, his gentle manners and probably good-looking face helped calm you down a bit. You tried to think about the last thing you remembered, but your mind felt completely blank. And every time you tried to think, an incredible pain pierced your head. It was as if something didn't want you to remember, as if someone had come and stolen all of your memories.

"I don't remember anything.." You struggled to utter those few words. "Nothing.." The last thing you said seemed more like an attempt to convince yourself. Nothing? You were undeniably completely confused, and there was an immense pain in your head. If there wasn't an open wound, how could it hurt so much? Yet, you still put your hand on your head just to make sure.

Damian's eyebrows furrowed, almost covering his green eyes. He spoke with anger almost spitting out every word, "Did you cause her a fucking memory loss?!" He yelled loudly and lunged at the boy who was slightly taller than him standing at the corner of the room. Suddenly they were literally fighting with each other which caught you off guard. With fear you widened your eyes. The boy, whom you had just noticed, tried to intervene. He had black hair with a white part on the front that rested just above his forehead. He was wearing a black leather jacket and black jeans, giving him a biker-like appearance. The ugly sound of punches hitting the flesh from Damian's strikes made you even more frightened, and the guy standing next to you yelled, "You are scaring her!"

Damian struggled to control his anger and stood up. His knuckles were in great pain, but it was the least of his concerns. As he was about to approach the bed where his dear sister lay, Dick once again stopped him this time with his hand. "Leave the room." His authoritative voice commanded Damian once more, causing his cheeks to flush with anger. "You can't tell me what to do, she is my sister."

Dick took a deep breath and tried to calm down. He had become the fucking babysitter of these kids even though they were almost a grown ass man "She is not just your sister Damian. What you're doing right now is nothing but scaring her."

As Damian's attention came over you again, he easily could see the fear growing in your eyes. It wasn't something he was used to. He had witnessed this look of yours only three times in his life: the night both of your grandfather died when you found his body repeatedly stabbed, a loud thunderstorm when you were six or so, and now. He hated that look because it usually meant something uncontrollable was happening and he didn't like to lose control. He hated that he wasn't able to be there and protect you. He hated every second of it.  Under normal circumstances, all he could do was hold you and reassure you that everything would be alright, that he would protect you forever, even though getting physically involved or showing affection to people openly wasn't his style. That was usually enough to calm you down, although it wouldn't stop you from crying. Damian, on the other hand, would just hold you for hours and let you cry in his arms until you felt better. Maybe even for hours, you would allow yourself to cry in his arms. Some of your family members were saying this connection was because you were twins and some of them were saying it was because how you guys only had each other at a certain point but no, that wasn't it. Both if you shared something more than that, a connection. He could feel whenever you were sad, and when you were in pain, it was also his pain. Calling it a twin-bond was nothing enough to explain how he felt about you. You were his family, you were his sister: his beloved sister. He would come to you when he had a problem, he would come to you when he was happy, he would come to you when he was overwhelmed by everything. You were his safe space, just like him being your safe space too. Now was the time you needed him the most, and why couldn't Dick see that? Why didn't he understand that all you needed was for him to hold you and give you hope that everything would heal?

Interrupting his thoughts, Jason's hand found his shoulder. "It's confusing for all of us to have this situation. For now, we should let Dick stay with her and let him understand her condition." Damian didn't want to leave your side, but he understood the underlying truth behind Jason's words. It might be something small, or maybe something big, but whatever it was, Dick needed to talk to you to understand what was going on. Although he wanted this position himself, he knew he was too angry for it at the moment. He was doing this for your sake and your well-being. While still facing Dick, he moved closer to you. "I'll be back soon.." When he was about to kiss your forehead, the lack of love and the frightened expression on your face appeared which prevented him to show any affection. He wouldn't want to do something that could hurt you. He said nothing more and decided to leave the room just for now.

I'm Dick," he said, as his blue eyes narrowed with compassion. You looked at him with empty eyes and asked, "Is it always like this?" He contented himself with a smile in response to what you said. "Yes, don't you remember who you are? Anything at all?" From the question he asked you, you could understand that he was one of the people who struggled the most with the situation you were in you can't help yourself but feel a little bit of guilt again. "No, I'm sorry..." You felt like you were in the middle of nothingness. Nothing meant anything to you, and nothing seemed important. The faces you saw, the arguments you watched, all passed before your eyes like you were watching some kind of movie. But every time you searched your mind, what you found inside your head was a void much greater than the emptiness you felt on your chest.

He smiled at you again and reached out his hand to hold yours. "We should meet again then, I'm Richard Grayson, but you can call me Dick. I'm your big brother," he said. You nodded your head in response to what he said and extended your hand. When your hands disappeared in his large hands, he smiled at you again. His white teeth shimmered like pearls.

You looked at him for a moment. He had a slightly tanned skin. He had navy blue eyes and black hair. His haircut was somewhat long, falling towards his ears and upper parts of his neck. He was wearing a partially tight light blue t-shirt that accentuated the color of his eyes and hinted at his regular exercise routine. "I don't want to confuse your mind too much; family ties can be a bit complicated." As he ran his hand through his nape and shyly took his eyes to check the wall, you couldn't help but smile. "Do you feel better?" You understood that he was referring to your recent panic attack. "Yes."

There was still some hesitancy within you. One part of you was urging you to run away, while the other insisted on staying. You didn't know where you were, who these people were, and staying here didn't seem like an appealing option. Nothing made sense to you, and you felt like a newborn baby, everything feeling foreign and distant, far from a comfortable environment. When he noticed you are drowning in your mind, he approached to comfort you, but you instinctively backed off towards the wall. "I'm sorry... There's no need to be afraid of us. We mean no harm." He distanced himself a bit to help you relax, and the front of his bed was completely open. Slowly, you let your feet dangle off the bed and stand up. Even that simple movement caused your whole body to tremble. The idea of a train passing over you was becoming more appealing every minute; this pain and hurting seemed inexplicable otherwise. Your eyes began to wander around the room.

You were staying in a room where green was dominant. The walls were dark green. The room was illuminated by a dim yellow light coming from a large crystal chandelier. Years ago, you and Damian had changed the room's lighting to yellow, as you had discovered that yellow light was much easier on the eyes compared to white light. However, this information was not in your mind at the moment beside your whole life's memory.

Right next to your bed, there was a large wooden wardrobe. You wrapped your fingers around the handle and opened it. It was filled with clothes, leaving no empty space. Colorful fabric pieces patiently waited to be worn inside the dark brown wooden wardrobe. There were pictures hanging on the wardrobe door. In one of them, you were with the white-haired boy from earlier. It looked like you were playing PlayStation together. You had raised your right fist in a victorious pose, while the boy next to you furrowed his brows. The photo was taken from a distance.

Just below that picture was a selfie with an older looking man. He looked like he was quite nice and kind. You had raised two fingers to make a piece sign this time and smiled broadly. He, on the other hand, displayed a content smile and looked at the camera. "This is Alfred." You hadn't noticed that he had come up behind you while you were looking at the photos. Dick placed his finger on the picture of the boy above. "And this is Jason."

Although you felt the knowing feeling about names, you weren't be able to quite put your finger on it.

The next picture was taken from far. Someone was carrying you on a bridal style and looking at the camera. it seemed like you were trying your best to not to fall from his arms so you were kind of blurry. His green eyes seemed very warm unlike Damian's. You could almost sense it through the picture. He also had lots of freckles which gave him a lot warmer look. There was a note under the photo: 'Toronto'

"This is Bart Allen, he is a close friend of yours." You just nod. You could feel the awkwardness since he was telling about all these stuff, even though they were hanging on the wall in your room. You felt like all these pictures actually should brought something back.

Another picture was also taken from far. You were standing right between two beautiful woman. Although both of them had red hair, one of them had a darker color. the other one just had a red-ish color just like ginger. They were smiling widely while you were laughing, both of them hugging you. Dick put his finger just on a woman with darker hair. "This is Kate" and slide it over the other one. "This is Barbara."

Under that, there was another picture of you this time with Damian. You guys were sitting on a couch and had a cat between two of you. Even though it was a selfie, you could see both of your bodies thanks to camera's angle. Damian was smiling and had a black shirt on him with capital letters 'Uncle Damian' written on it. You were wearing the same shirt that says mother and even the cat also had one. It was so hard to believe that this Damian was the same person you saw earlier. In this picture he seemed so relaxed, happy?

Dick might have read your mind since he started talking: "Yeah, it must be hard for you to believe but just so you know, he loves you a lot that is why he was angry earlier." then he stopped for a minute before starting to talk again: "to be honest he is always angry." there was an awkward laugh after that. There was another picture next to yours and Damian's, it was with Dick.

He was wearing some kind of apron that says 'World's Greatest Grandma' on it. He was holding a  pot and you had eggs in your hand, showing them off to your camera.

The inside of the wardrobe was filled with many pictures. Most of them included of Jason, Damian, and Dick, but you didn't continue looking because these pictures were reminders of the large part of your life that you had forgotten. You felt like shit, and still, a small part of you insisted that these things couldn't be true. You felt like a reader who was reading other people's stories. You couldn't tell if you were really in the present moment or if you were just having a simple dream, though, a nightmare would be more true. Everything felt so terrifying. Perhaps it was because of the guilt you placed on the memories you couldn't recall, or maybe it was due to the uneasiness from the fight you had witnessed some moments ago. When you found yourself taking a deep breath and pinching the bridge of your nose, as if trying to calm yourself down, you continued shaking your head and looking at the pictures. Dick opened his mouth, seemingly wanting to distract you, again:

" Almost everyone in these pictures are your siblings" he said, and your eyes widened in disbelief. You couldn't contain your astonishment. "Our parents must have worked really hard," slipped out of your mouth involuntarily, and Dick burst into a loud laughter, finding it the funniest thing in the world. After laughing for a few seconds, he composed himself and responded to you. "No, we're all adopted." he said. Then he paused for a moment and continued, "Well, except for Damian and you. You guys are biological siblings, twins to be exact." You nodded your head. Maybe that's why he was so tense. Although you couldn't fully grasp the topic of the fight, you found yourself involuntarily understanding his displayed behavior. Then he pointed his index finger at another picture on the other door of the wardrobe. "This is your mother," he said as he directed your attention to the picture. You saw one of the most beautiful women you've ever seen (you wouldn't remember even if you saw something prettier tho). Her green eyes were as sharp as Damian's. Her brown hair reached her waist, and the leather jacket she wore gave her a completely different aura. Despite her captivating gaze, the underlying danger could be easily sensed. This woman exuded an image of 'I love you, but i have no hesitation about killing you.' As you looked at her, a strange feeling arose within you. Longing? Guilt? No, it was neither of those. It was fear.

You closed the wardrobe door and continued to exploring the room. Similar pictures to the ones in the wardrobe were all over the walls. Then you noticed the bed standing on the right side. Unlike your bed, it was pitch black. Several katanas were hanging on the wall by on his bedside. His wardrobe was at the foot of the bed and, compared to yours, it was smaller and longer. When Dick noticed where you were looking, he felt the need to explain once again. "Damian is a little bit particular about this situation, he didn't want your rooms to be separated." You walked over to his area and looked at a few pictures hanging there. "You really love taking pictures," he said, and you felt a bit odd when he mentioned your characteristic to you, noticing his own awkwardness too as he moved behind you. "You have pictures with almost everyone." As you quickly scanned the walls of the room, you saw more pictures. While you were observing them, Dick's phone rang, and he asked for your permission to leave the room and without waiting for an answer he left.

While you were watching the pictures on the wall, there was a great chaos in the room below. Jason had informed Bruce about the incident and Bruce said he was going to come as soon as he could but since he was on a mission at the space station with Justice League, Jason wasn't seeing this happening anytime close. Meanwhile, Damian had tried to attack Tim seven more times, engaging in powerful fights that turned the entire room into a battlefield. While Jason tried to keep them apart, he was complaining about the situation and wishing he could use his weapons on them. He was too old for this fucking family drama.

"What is your problem!" Jason couldn't hold his anger anymore, tired of this bullshit. He knew how you were important to Damian but you were also important for them. Blood doesn't mean a shit. And fighting with each other? No it wasn't going to solve anything.

"My problem is Tim! He punched her so hard that she lost her fucking memory! Do you know how much power does he need to fucking achieve that Jason!" At this point he was breathing out fire. Yes, being angry was part of his character now but he never felt more angry all of his life. He didn't know if he was angry at Tim or himself or maybe even her sister for forgetting her. Even though he knew it wasn't in her hands to decide whether she was going to forget about him or not, how could she? They were together since they were born, they did everything together and now she wasn't even remembering her. He was angry at Tim for punching so hard, even though he was aware of the fact that you were way stronger than he could see, and even though this kind of mistakes could happen when they were sparring, it still was over using his power. Most importantly: he was angry at himself for letting you getting hurt.

"We were sparring for god's sake! I still have the fucking bruise from sparring with you last time. It's completely normal, stop blaming me!" Tim yelled this time. Jason sat on the couch and sighed.

"It is going to be a fucking long night."

[stressedoutcanary]

Hold On - Jason Todd x Batgirl!Reader

Summary:

"Hey! I see a vent inside, maybe if we get to the roof-"

BAMMMM

"Of course, just shoot open the lock and alert whoever's inside. What a great strategy! Why didn't I think of it?! Oh I know, because it's dumb!"

Warnings: Language, Canon typical Violence, Occasional Angst lets be real it's Jason we are talking about, Kidnappings..?

Word count: 1.6k

A/N:- I...should be studying right now buttt I had fun writing this and yes, I took the title from the song Hold On by Chord Overstreet, I think it fits this perfectly.

I wasn't going for a series but here we are.

Part 2, Part 3

•°•°•°•°

It was a quite night for Gotham. Every person was busy with their own work and so were you, even if it was a little different from what people down below on the streets were doing. As of yet, you had stopped two muggings, busted a few armed two-face goons trying to rob a bank and were currently running across rooftops.

'Maybeee I can get off easy today, go home, microwave the pizza that has been waiting for me in the fridge, get a nice, warm shower and then straight to bed'

You hummed to yourself at the delightful thought as you sat on a gargoyle overlooking the city. You were enjoying the feeling of the light breeze on your face. It was soothing in a way. Not long after, you were startled by your comms crackling to life out of nowhere as you heard Oracle's automated voice in your ears.

"Batgirl I am going to need you to check out the area near Gotham Central Park for any visible strange activity. There are several missing persons reports filed this week that I have tied up to that particular region."

'So much for a warm bath and a good night's sleep, way to jinx yourself (Y/N), you dumbass'

"Isn't that park under construction or something? You know after the whole Justice League fiasco last month?", you questioned.

"Yep but people still go there, in the mornings for walks and at the nights for certain activities."

"Of course they do, I swear, people here are on a whole different level." You sighed. "Alrighty then Babs, I am on it."

•°•°

After climbing up a couple of fire escapes and swinging off of numerous rooftops you finally reached your target destination. There was a deafening silence when your feet landed on the damp grass. You took in the misted surroundings and decided to look around for something out of the ordinary. There was a broken bright neon sign by the corner of the street which caught your attention, you could only make out the last bit, it spelled Parlor.

'That seems awfully familiar. Something about it is odd but I can't quite place my finger on it'

You were lost in thought when you felt someone move behind you, there was rather little time for you to react so you choose the 'hit first ask questions later' option. You clenched your fist, twisted your upper body and delivered a quick, staggering blow to the shady figure lurking behind.

.

"OWW!! WHAT WAS THAT FOR?!"

.

"HOOD?!"

Sure enough, Jason was on the ground clutching his ribs looking like a hurt puppy.

You moved your hands up and massaged you temples. You do not want to deal with him. Not today and if possible not ever. Even though you never let it show, you always avoided a run in with him. He may have become a part of the family again but you were far off from forgiving him.

You watched with narrowed eyes as he got to his feet and and dusted off the grass from his jacket.

"So on a Scale of one to Demon brat, how much do you hate me?", the smirk on his face and the way he wiggled his eyebrows at you almost made you want to smack him with a crowbar yourself.

"What? Dami?! I don't-- I don't hate Damian, he just gets on my nerves sometimes, something you do all the time.", you enjoyed, maybe a little too much, the way Jason's smirk turned into a small pout. You smiled a bit as you shook your head at his childishness.

"Before you start chucking batarangs at me I want to make this clear; No, Oracle did not send me here to be your backup or whatever, I just happen to be investigating the same thing which obviously led me here to you. So how about we work on this together and watch each other's back", Despite the uncertainty of your rejection, he sounded hopeful. It seemed as if he was ready to build the old, worn out bridges of your relationship back up again. It sent an unexpected warmth through your chest.

"Just like old times?"

"Just like old times.", Jason repeated as you both did a rather unsuccessful fist bump and grinned like idiots.

•°•°

You walked up to the seemingly abandoned building, Jason examined the door for traps whereas you decided on taking a look through the glass window.

"Hey! I see a vent inside, maybe if we get to the roof-"

BAMMMM

"Of course, just shoot open the lock and alert whoever's inside. What a great strategy! Why didn't I think of it?! Oh I know, because it's dumb!", you whisper shouted with a scowl. Jason just shrugged and tilted his head to the side, pointing towards the now open door.

"Ladies first, so lead the way, unless you're scared.", it was a playful challenge on Jason's part, one that you were more than ready to accept.

"Oh you're on Red."

You stepped inside and it was all business from there on. You took in the condition of the room; dusty desks, broken glass, oddly placed mannequins and footprints leading up ahead into a long hallway.

"They seem recent enough", Jason gave a slight nod at your discovery.

Considering the darkness of the hallway, you and Jason shared a look and switched on your night vision lenses. You both started taking cautious steps, the occasional soft thud of your boots being the only sound in the vicinity.

The end of the hallway was forked up and there were two rooms at the end of each passageway.

"How is this place so big! it didn't seem this huge from the outside", you could hear the exasperation in Jason's voice. You figured not getting to hit someone might be getting to him or that he was just bored.

"Look I will take the right, you take the left, our comms are already connected, if any one of us finds anything we tell the other and remember we do not engage in a fight alone. Am I clear or do you want me to write that down for you"

"Yes ma'am, but just so you know you are starting to sound like The old man", you rolled your eyes at his comment and went on ahead towards the right as he went the other way.

•°•°

You scrolled through the torn down bookshelf kept in one of the rooms and you were making a mental note in your mind that there were a lot of medical journals in the bunch, when your comms buzzed.

"I am sorry", Jason whispered in a soft voice and you froze for a spilt second, eyes widening.

'No (Y/N) don't listen to him, he doesn't know what he is saying, just focus on finding those missing people and get this over with'

With that thought you tried continuing your investigation as if you had heard nothing.

"I said, I am sorry (Y/N). I know you heard me. I also know you've been avoiding me, cutting me out and you don't have to reply if don't feel like it but...I just wanted you to know..."

"Now is not the right time for this Hood and...for what it's worth I am not looking forward to a forgiveness session with you...", you felt awful for cutting him out the way you did, your heart clenched at the harshness of your words as you clicked off your comms, but you refused to have this discussion right now. If you were being more honest to yourself you just couldn't bear the emotions it would bring, so you chose the easiest way; completely shutting him out.

It was few minutes after the highly uncomfortable talk with Jason that a wall poster had caught your eye. You moved your hand over it, somewhat wiping off the dust, there was something scribbled on it making it harder for you to read the actual text. You squinted, trying to make out the words

"The people need...perfection...and that is what Pretty Dolls Parlor strives to achieve."

You scanned the area near poster for fingerprints and clicked your comms back on.

"Hood, get over here, I found something and I think this is the make or break kind of information", you were waiting for scan to complete, concern creeping up your mind when there was no reply from the other end.

"Red Hood? can you hear me?"

Nothing.

"Red?! Answer me Damnit!!"

A whole lot of Nothing.

As soon as you heard the chime of the scanner signaling its completion, you sped the other way towards the left corridor, towards Jason.

'Jay please be okay, please be okay, please be okay.'

By the time you reached Jason's location you were panting from the lack of breath and were already cursing yourself for bringing Jason along. To say that the man can take care of himself might be an understatement, he is basically a lone wolf, but still the thought of something happening to him while he was with you hurt like hell.

You looked around frantically and almost jumped out of your skin when you stepped on a gun. You heart almost stopped, it was Jason's. To make matters worse, there was no other sign of him or of were he went. You picked up the gun holding it securely in your hand. You could literally hear your heart pounding in your ears.

Suddenly, through the reflection from the glass window in front of you, you caught a glimpse of a man wearing a blank white face mask, you turned around, immediately switching to a fighting stance but that only did so much for you. A flashlight was switched on and shoved near your face, the night vision of your lens intensified the light, blinding you completely.

Before you could react, a metal pole connected straight with the back of your head and just like that you were lights out on the ground.

°•°•°•°•

Author's cute little extra Note:

*wiggling my eyebrows rn*

I might be a little too obsessed with the Arkham Knight game hehe.

Well that ended well for you, didn't it?? Jason's gone missing and you get a nice concussion to garnish your anxiety level? No? Okay I will stop talking now.

Tell me if you want to be tagged for the next parts.💕

[soulmate-game]

Bio Dad Bruce Wayne Month 2020

Day 1: Meeting for the first time

Not my best work, but decent. I hope you enjoy!

—*—*—*—*—*

Mari was intelligent. That much could not be disputed— and despite her dislike for the sciences in general, she was fully capable of comprehending them when she wanted to. She just usually didn’t care enough to try. But genetics? That was kinda cool. So, when she was ten years old and they began their short unit on it, she was obsessed. And by obsessed, she dove in head first. Like, the fact that her eye color didn’t match either of her parents or grandparents. How could she have blue eyes when none of them did? She delved in deeper and deeper until she uncovered a truth her parents hadn’t wanted her to figure out quite so soon.

She was adopted.

Mari never told her parents about her discovery, the epiphany only managing to sate her curiosity. Who needed blood relation when her parents loved her like real ones anyway? But as the years passed and certain life changes came up, she couldn’t help but feel intrigued by the mystery of where her DNA came from. The heroism thing had to have some root in genetics, right? Okay, so maybe she was just looking for someone to be mad at besides Master Fu. But still, could she be blamed?

So, when Marinette was thirteen years old, she traced her DNA back to her biological parents. And for a while, that was it. She had once again sated her curiosity. She didn’t need anything else. Her mother was dead, and she doubted her biological father knew a thing about her. So Marinette forgot about her discovery, or at least let it sink into the recesses of her brain. And there it stayed, until she was eighteen.

—* — * — * — * — *

It had to be one of the most accidentally dramatic days possible. Top floor of Wayne Enterprises, in one of Bruce’s massive conference rooms with every member of his large family in attendance. Even Kori and Mar’i were there, and Jason’s boyfriend Roy. Everyone was getting fairly restless, considering that Bruce had only informed a few of them (Read: just Dick, who was vibrating in his seat and not soothing anyone’s nerves) about what they were even all called in for. In their civilian identities, no less. It was very odd. Damian, not least of all, was sitting beside Bruce with his jaw clenched but eyes scanning the room in curiosity. He had come a long way from the surly ten year old, and he hadn’t even killed anyone in four years. He had well and truly become a Bat, and with that progress came the lessening of his old temper and brattiness.

Make note: lessening. Not erasure.

It wasn’t long, maybe ten or fifteen minutes of Bruce checking his phone and grinning secretively without answering anyone’s questions, before a businesslike tap-tap-tap sounded on the door to the conference room. Immediately, everything went silent. Kori, Tim, and Jason stopped trying to get Dick to say anything intelligible and went instead to just keeping the man in his seat at all. Bruce let out a rare, soft chuckle before raising his coffee mug to his lips. He called out:

“Come on in, miss MDC. We’re ready for our meeting,” before taking a long sip.

And as soon as the door opened all the way, admitting a short woman of asian descent with navy black hair brushing the bottom of her shoulder blades and piercing (familiar. Too familiar) deep blue eyes, he promptly choked. Trying his damndest not to get coffee everywhere, Bruce devolved into a coughing fit even as his eyes continued to flitter up to the figure just admitted into the room. The woman pretended not to notice his suffering, closing the door behind her and walking forward towards the side of the rectangular-set-up ring of tables that was closest to her and also unoccupied. She plopped a heavy bag down onto the table, reaching in and pulling out a large red and white polka-dotted journal from within, along with a black pen. But despite her businesslike movements and her silence, nobody missed the way that her far too familiar stunningly blue eyes twinkled in suppressed mirth. She didn’t seem surprised at all.

That was the last time Bruce was ever gonna let Tim do someone’s background check on his own. He should have at least looked at the file Tim had made, but of course not. Tim was capable, he trusted the boy with half of their entire family’s company. One background check on one highly reputable designer? Of course he could trust Tim.

Except apparently not. This is what Bruce got for keeping secrets.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” Bruce spoke once he got a handle of himself, pushing back his chair almost hurriedly and standing. Damian followed suit, laser focused on his father along with everyone else who knew just how out of character the older man was being just then. It was hard to fluster Bruce at all those days, let alone make him choke and hurry to stand. “I— Welcome to WE. I’m—“ Bruce was cut off by a soft chuckle.

“Bruce Wayne, my biological father and employer for the next few weeks. I know,” Marinette interrupted, sending a sly smile his way. “I had a feeling somebody didn’t actually tell you my name. I was planning on coming to Gotham later this year after I graduated Lycee and demanding to get to know you, but it looks like you did the hard work for me without even knowing. But,” her smile widened in good humor as she walked up closer to Bruce, holding her hand out for a shake. “I do have to say, now that I’ve seen you in person I feel a bit cheated. With how tall you are, you’d think I would have inherited at least a couple more inches.”

“Excuse me? Who do you think you are, claiming to be a Wayne?” Damian asked, tone sharp and his emerald eyes glaring straight towards her. Bruce just took Marinette’s hand, shaking it gently from surprise, but his foot gently kicked his son in the ankle.

“Damian,” Bruce said simply, the single name laced with warning as it came out of his mouth. He turned his attention back to the girl in front of him. “It is nice to finally meet you in person, Marinette. I admit, I did not know of our relation until a few years ago, and I wasn’t in the right mindset back then to welcome another child. Besides, I had it on good authority that your adoptive parents are more than wonderful to you.”

Marinette shrugged. “I don’t mind. I didn’t look into who my biological father was until I was thirteen, anyway. I don’t think things would have ended well if you had just shown up in Paris one day asking to be involved in my life. Enough of that though,” Marinette turned to the sixteen year old by Bruce’s side now stiffened and wide-mouthed. His entire expression, subdued as it was, still managed to clearly telegraph betrayal. And then those eyes locked on Marinettes, and the emerald simmered into something much more vile and acidic. Marinette was not perturbed, merely giving the younger boy a smile and holding out her hand for a shake.

“You must be my half-brother, Damian. I expected someone carved out of stone, with how the tabloids paint you as unfeeling and cold,” she joked. Damian glared harder. She raised an eyebrow. “You seem pretty heated and angry, like a hissing cat, to me. And by the way, I never claimed to be a Wayne. My last name is Dupain-Cheng, and I don’t plan on changing it anytime soon. Having the same blood relation as you does not mean I plan to throw away the name given to me by the ones who actually raised me. But, it does mean that I will get to know you one way or another. I’m not easy to get rid of, and I’ve always wanted a sibling or two.”

That was when the room couldn’t hold it any more; everyone bar the three in the center of the room burst out laughing. It wasn’t too raucous, confusion dampening the hysteria that usually would have taken over, but there was a good round of chuckles and laughter. When it settled down, Damian’s shoulders had slightly relaxed but he still hadn’t taken Marinette’s hand. Instead, he turned to his father again.

“Explain.” He demanded. Bruce sighed, his gaze connecting with Marinette’s own identical one. He searched her for any hesitation, but only got a flash of a bright smile in return. Bruce straightened his shoulders, clasping his hands behind his back and turning to face Damian and the rest of the room.

“I found out about Marinette shortly after Damian was… introduced to the family,” Bruce admitted, resisting the urge to glance at Marinette after the hedged mention of how he met Damian. “I decided to scour every resource I had to make sure I couldn’t be surprised by another biological child. And, lo and behold, I found out that I was right to do so. Her biological mother passed away in childbirth however, so she was adopted by a couple in Paris. I did not see any need to contact her at the time. A friend of mine did happen to be in Paris back then though, and hung around to make sure Marinette was being treated well before leaving again.”

“You sent a friend of yours to spy on me?” Marinette asked, but she just sounded thoroughly amused. “Geez. Now I know where I get it from. When I was thirteen, I had a bit of a bad habit of spying on my friends when I was worried instead of confronting them head on. It took a while to grow out of, and even now I can easily slip back into the habit if I’m not careful. But, as great as this reunion is, it isn’t what I’m being paid to be here for,” Her grin turned downright wicked as she snapped open her sketchbook and clicked her pen.

“I am MDC, the owner and CEO of the up and rising fashion label Spotted Designs, where every look will turn heads and ensure confidence. Monsieur Wayne,” her grin turned into a sly smirk when she said his name, which visibly made Bruce twitch. “Has hired me today to design all of you a new outfit for his gala in four months time, as well as a casual outfit of your own choosing should you want one. Before I get started, I would like to ask you to please sign your NDAs, which my assistant and best friend will bring in for you in a few minutes, before we conclude this meeting. I go by an alias for a reason, I value my privacy, and I would prefer it if word did not get out about my being MDC just yet. Being CEO of a business I started from scratch when I’m only eighteen right now will garner attention that I am not patient enough to deal with right now.”

The silence was near palpable until Jason huffed in amusement and remarked: “Yup. I can see the resemblance.”

“Resemblance?” Duke asked, leaning forward with an incredulous look on his face. “It’s like seeing a tiny, genderswapped, innocent copy of Damian. Is anyone else terrified right now?”

“Tt,” Damian tutted, letting a heavy breath out through his nose before shoving his hand forward. He didn’t look pleased, but neither did he look venomous or betrayed anymore. “Miss Dupain-Cheng. I am Damian Wayne, and I look forward to working with you.” He greeted as if the past few minutes hadn’t happened at all. Marinette beamed, letting out a short belt of delighted laughter before clasping his hand firmly with hers.

“My competence always wins people over,” she teased.

“Only if they don’t see you trip over empty air first,” a new voice joined in, lightly joining the teasing. It belonged to a tall, blond haired green eyed man that looked about the same age as Marinette herself. He came carrying a large two-foot stack of papers as easily as if he was only carrying one sheet. Closing the door behind him with his foot, he went around the large square of tables distributing NDAs to everyone who hadn’t already signed one. “Mari’s the clumsiest person I’ve ever seen, but I’ve also seen her hand sew a double sided ball gown with a layer of knife-resistant fabric in less than thirty hours and still threaten anyone to come near with a needle to the eye, so I’ve learned to just not take anything about her at face value anymore.”

“Oh shut up,” Marinette snapped back cheerfully, rolling her eyes. “This is my best friend, assistant, and business partner Adrien Agreste.”

“I deal with all the paperwork and spotlight that she doesn’t want to handle,” he agreed, nearly blinding everyone with his beaming smile. “Now. Please sign these NDAs, and you can experience Marinette’s skill firsthand.”

After papers were signed and Adrien left, Bruce tried to start another conversation with Marinette.

“So, when did you find out—“

“I’m going to start with taking all of your measurements, if you don’t mind. You first, Monsieur Wayne.”

Bruce blinked, not used to being interrupted. “Ah. We can do this tomorrow, I wasn’t expecting—“

“That’s not my fault, Monsieur Wayne. I came here knowing exactly who I was going to deal with, and you want me to make a quite frankly horrifying amount of clothing in a very short amount of time. Any designer lesser than me would be completely incapable of meeting your deadline. I plan on sticking to my schedule, which means that we are going to get everyone’s measurements and a baseline of the kind of designs you all want done today before the end of our scheduled appointment.”

“Marinette, I would really like to talk about—“

“Arms out. And take your suit jacket off, I can’t get an accurate measurement with it,” she once again interrupted, businesslike and efficient as she took her measuring tape and lined it up against various parts of his body, jotting down the results. She didn’t entertain any of his attempts at conversation in the meantime, instead using the dead time to grill Damian on what he wanted for his suit design.

And, like a partnership that never should have existed, Damian merely smirked and played along with her game. He answered her questions thoroughly but precisely, never allowing their father a chance to make actual conversation. Next thing the poor eldest Wayne knew, Marinette had already taken everyone’s measurements and almost an hour had passed. No less than ten pages of her notebook were already filled with neat lines of notes and numbers.

“You really take this whole thing seriously, don’t you?” Tim asked, in the middle of describing his ideal suit to Marinette. She hummed, grinning up at him mysteriously. As if she was in on a joke he hadn’t heard.

“Designing is my life, Monsieur Drake. This company is something I’ve been building from the ground up since I was thirteen, I’ve made my own clothes since I was ten. Of course I take it seriously. Now. I believe that is everything I need,” she stood up, asking a few last second questions as she gathered up her things. Seeing his chance, Brucie walked her to the door.

“Really, Marinette, I would like to talk to you more. Would you like to come to the Manor tonight, for dinner maybe?”

Marinette smirked, opening the door before Bruce could and turning her head to say over her shoulder: “Not tonight, but maybe tomorrow. Do me a favor though, and try not to get too injured on patrol. I need you all in good enough shape to stand while I do your initial fittings later this week. Gotham might need it’s vigilantes, but you will all regret it if you break a bone before I can fit my prototypes to you.”

Nobody was able to say a word before she closed the door behind her and continued briskly to the elevator. Bruce stood, dumbfounded. Tim, Jason, and Dick, after a moment, started cackling.

“Oh yeah. That’s Damian’s sister.”

“Tt. At least this proves it.”

Bruce, suddenly very exhausted, turned to his son while rubbing his forehead. “Proves what, Damian?”

His trademark razor sharp smirk overtook his face as Damian replied: “Your blood children really are much more competent and effective than the strays you took in.”

“Hey!”

—*—*—*—*—*

“You didn’t have a full conversation?” Adrien guessed, looking exactly like the cat who caught the canary. Marinette had her head in her hands, her entire face red.

“I didn't know how to have an actual conversation with them, Adrien! You should have seen it, Monsieur Wayne—“

“You can just say your father, you know.”

“—Wanted to talk about feelings. Emotions! Gooey, family stuff and probably sentimental things. In front of so many people, too. I panicked!”

“You panicked and went full Business Empress mode,” Adrien agreed, patting her back in both comfort and condescension. “It’s okay. You at least agreed to dinner tomorrow night.”

“Fuuuuuuuuuck, I diiiiiid. Quick, let’s come up with a way to fake my kidnapping.”

“No.”

“Damn.”

[nxrthmizu]

| honoured | day 16

»»——⍟——««

@daminette-december2019-2020 ​

prompt | Royalty AU

pairing | Damian Wayne x Marinette Dupain-Cheng 

words | 1.7k 

author’s note | Hi watch me indulge myself in this because it’s everything I’ve ever wanted in a royalty au 

»»——⍟——««

“You’re all pathetic.” Damian hissed, twisting the sword out of yet another knight’s grip.��“How are you supposed to protect me when you can’t even beat me in a duel?” His sharp words glared at the line of knights that had applied to be Gotham’s prince’s personal guard. None of them lived up to his expectations, and at this point Damian wasn’t even surprised anymore. 

He huffed impatiently. “Is that all you lot have got?” 

“May I try, sir?” Spoke a knight that was way too short and way too small in comparison to the line of other silver-clad men. A pair of bluebell eyes met the prince’s emerald ones, a spark of determination and confidence glinting in them. 

Damian sighed, eyeing the spark in the bluebell eyes, a smirk overcoming his features. How naive, he thought. He couldn’t wait to smite out that light in those bluebell eyes. 

»»——⍟——««

He didn’t. 

The room was completely silent as Damian’s sword flew across the room with a clang, twisted quickly out of his grip as the small knight surprised him with the sudden attack. It was so quiet that the failed knights could hear the prince’s shallow, panting breaths that hurried to pay off the oxygen debt in his muscles. 

“... What is your name.” The prince’s voice was deadly quiet as he stared into the blue eyes. The knight slid the helmet off, dark blue hair tied up in a ponytail, flushed cheeks painted red from the ten continuous minutes of unending parrying. 

“Marin Cheng, sir!” 

The failed knights watched with bated breath as the prince stared down coldly at the shorter knight. They had underestimated the knight greatly- No one thought that the small midget stood a single chance against the prince, who was one of the best swordsmen known throughout the kingdom. 

“...” He surveyed Marin with a careful eye. “Very well. See Mr. Pennyworth about your new living arrangements.” The words were unspoken, but the whole hall was clear about what the prince had left unsaid. 

You are my personal guard. 

»»——⍟——««

Marin never left Damian’s side, per his request. His personal guard’s job was to follow him around to ensure he was never outnumbered in an ambush- And he had to admit, Marin’s presence was rather enjoyable. The small knight was not made out of a lot of muscle- But certainly had the wits and deftness to make up for the lack in size. 

The knight quickly learnt that there were times when Damian wanted the air to be filled with chatter, and when he did not. During the times that he wanted to rid of the silence, the blue-haired knight would begin talking animatedly, chatting about anything and everything around them- The bushes around the royal garden, the new bakery that opened downtown, the new uniform for cadets. And when the prince valued his silence, the blue-haired knight would keep quiet and simply follow the emerald-eyed teen around. 

“Marin.” 

The knight was sitting on the floor of Damian’s private library, flipping through a book with the prince’s permission. Blue eyes glanced up instantly, the book forgotten quickly as the knight waited for the prince’s instructions. 

“I’m bored.” Damian pushed the documents he was supposed to read aside. “Fence with me.” 

The two of them were in the palace courtyard in a while, both their swords drawn as the prince stepped forward with the first move. The metallic ringing of sword on sword rang through the courtyard, the blows consistently repeating as the prince parried his knight’s attack. 

“You’ve gotten better, my prince.” Marin commented with a slight smile, blocking another of Damian’s attacks. 

A smirk slipped onto the prince’s features. “Of course.” 

»»——⍟——««

Months flew by uneventfully, Marin moving seamlessly into the prince’s life, getting used to the daily schedule of the emerald-eyed teen. Marin would be up at 5am, training alone in the empty courtyard until 6, when a shower and a quick pop-in to the kitchen would be needed. At 6.30, the knight would accompany Damian to breakfast and the rest of the day would be spent in the study or in the courtyard. 

Of course, Marin’s appointment as the prince’s personal guard brought a lot of attention in the form of jealousy and hate in the knight’s direction- But most of the time, these glares were simply dismissed by Marin. The other knights started trying to find any sort of dirt on the personal guard, knowing there was no way they could outmatch Marin in skill. 

And fortunately for the other knights, (And unfortunately for Marin), the blue-haired knight had a giant secret. 

The blue-haired knight shrieked in terror as the other silver-clad men dragged her into the middle of the king’s court, wrapped in only a white towel, all of her secrets laid out after they ambushed her in her morning bath. 

“Sir!” One of the knights said with a scoff. “We have an imposter among us.” 

It was clear now, without the wall of her silver armour to hide in, that Marin was actually a Marinette. Her long, dark blue hair covered her bare shoulders like a curtain of ivy, her bluebell eyes sharp in fright of the king’s reaction. 

“Prince Damian’s personal guard...” The knight continued, eyeing her hatefully and with a glint of victory. “Is a woman.” 

Before anyone could express their surprise at this discovery, the doors of the hall slammed open, as loud as a thunder clap across the kingdom’s skies. The furious prince stood in the middle of the doorway, marching to the centre of the court with narrowed eyebrows and a displeased frown. 

“What is this?” He demanded, eyes flitting over to the nearly-naked woman sitting in the centre of the hall.

“Damian,” King Bruce begin slowly. “It seems that your personal guard is... A lady.” 

‘Infuriated’ didn’t even begin to describe the prince’s expression. “And?” He snapped, turning to point his glare at the knights that surrounded the blue-haired knight. “She’s more than competent at her job. More competent than you lot, actually.” 

“My prince, with all due respect, don’t you think it’s inappropriate to have a lady as a knight?” One of the silver-clad men spoke up with a raised eyebrow, his fellow knights murmuring their agreements. 

The prince sucked in a deep breath before sharpening his ice-cold glare. “I am to be the future king of this country.” Hissed the emerald-eyed prince. “And if the knight, whether a she or a he, is capable of holding he or her ground in a duel against me, which, may I remind, you lot weren’t, then I would be nothing less than honoured to have her fight by my side.” 

Silence rang deafening volumes in the courtyard as men registered the fact that Prince Damian- The ice prince himself- Just admitted to be honoured to fight in someone’s else company- Never mind the fact that the someone happened to be a woman. 

“Father.” Damian said in an icy tone, shedding off his cloak to wrap around Marin- No, Marinette’s shoulders. “These knights clearly have no concept on respect and privacy. They dragged out a woman in nothing but her towel into the centre of a hall. Father, surely you don’t believe that these people here deserve to be knights?” 

The king hummed thoughtfully. “You do have a point. I don’t suppose they do.” 

“Your majesty-” 

“Alfred, have these men be removed from the palace premises and be stripped of their knight titles, please.” 

“Father, if I could make one more request?” 

“Speak.” 

Damian stood up, a cold fire burning in his eyes that would later lead him to be a fair and just ruler. “I would like to allow capable women to join knight ranks officially.” 

The court was so silent that you could hear the pen scratching of Mr. Pennyworth, who was busy making arrangements and smiling proudly at the emerald-eyed prince’s request. 

“That is an interesting request, Damian.” The king smiled thoughtfully. “Have your proposal on this new law finished and on my desk by tomorrow afternoon.” 

The prince nodded his head, gripping his personal guard’s shoulders as he helped her stand. “Thank you, father.” He said, emerald-green eyes glinting at the now former-knights as he guided Marinette out of the hall, the doors slamming close as if nothing had just happened. 

»»——⍟——««

 “Did you know this whole time?” Marinette asked quietly, now decked out more comfortably in her knight gear. The prince and his personal guard were seated on the stone steps of the courtyard, the sun beating down into the ceiling-less area. 

“... Ever since you beat me. Yes.” Came the prince’s answer as he watched the blue-haired woman wipe his sword clean. “You were too small-built to be a man. Your shoulders aren’t wide enough.” 

“I see.” 

Silence resumed as the blue-haired knight fidgeted awkwardly on the step, her hands moving quickly to make the metal shine under the glow of the sun. 

“You don’t have to always wear your armour around me.” Damian mused quietly, leaning against one of the pillars comfortably. “You can just wear a shirt. It would be easier for you to move around. And since everyone knows anyway,” He shrugged. “No point in you trying to cover up with your armour anymore.” 

Marinette blushed at the prince pointing her out blatantly. “I... Yes, my prince.” 

“Go change. I want to duel for a bit before I have to draft up my proposal.” He said lazily, flicking his hands at her. “I’ll practice on my own first. Hurry up.” 

He watched her retreating back, the clanks of her armour gradually getting softer as she returned to her room, which was only a corridor away from his. His mind flickered back to the day he first met her- Damian thought he’d never lose to a man in swordplay. 

And he was right. 

He lost to a woman. 

A woman by the name of Marinette Cheng. 

»»——⍟——««

taglist. @maskedpainter @animegirlweeb @starmist19 @myazael @stainedglassm @user00000003 @toughluna @nickristus-dreamer @missmadwoman

send in an ask to be added to Cady’s Daminette December taglist! 

»»——⍟——««

also I feel so sorry for everyone waiting for me to update never knowing which dates I’ll write for lol 

Oh oh and I'm pretty proud of this because I didn't use she/her at all before Marin's gender reveal :)

[starkatana]

All You Need to Know

Jason Todd X Female Reader

WordCount: 2813 (it’s long!~)

Summary: Jason proposes to you and you two have a smaller wedding with the BatFam in attendance at your Vegas wedding.

Author’s note: So, here begins my various one-shots of Jason Todd/Red Hood x Reader//y/n AKA my current obsession. I may compile all of them into chronological order once everything is done. I just really wanted to write and post something. I just have too many WIP’s right now that I need to focus on.

They aren’t exact ages. This is just a world that I made using these characters because I can. In this AU, Jason has died and come back to life. You two broke up and you dated Peter Parker (Spider-Man) for a little bit. At this point, you and Jason are 24-ish?

You are a dancer who works at a dance studio.

Sorry if its a little out of character, this is just based on my knowledge that tumblr has given me.

I used this post from fandomneeds!

Jason’s vows is the song: All You Need to Know by Gryffin

Hope you enjoy!

Jason scratched his head and crumpled up the vows he was working on.

“Ugh.”

Roy peeked into Jay’s room, “Having a hard time?” He cocked a sarcastic smile at his best friend.

“Fuck. Every time I try to write something it seems just so stupid and cookie cutter.”

“Aren’t those what vows are? Just telling the person you want to spend the rest of your life with them sickness and in health blah blah.”

“Yeah.” Jason shrugged, “I have basic vows for the Gotham wedding, but for the wedding this weekend, I just want them to be different and less like everything else.”

“Well, what do you want to say?”

“Exactly.”

Roy laughed. “You’ve read a million books you’re telling me that you can’t string the most romantic scenes and moments together?”

Jason sat back in the chair.

“What does she need to know? What are you confessing in front of the hardest people you need to impress? Me and the rest of your siblings.”

“It's not for you guys. It’s for us.”

“Then what do you want to tell her?”

Jason sat back in his chair with his hand behind his head, remembering the evening he asked you to marry him.

It happened to be a night that you and Jason didn’t have patrol, so you two made a date night out of it. The two of you are sitting in a booth at your favorite local diner. You two managed to keep it a secret from everyone else in the Batfam so they wouldn’t just show up and surprise you two. It’s late at night and you two had been there so often that the wait staff had your orders memorized. He was sitting across from you with his arms outstretched over the back of the booth as he listened to you talk with a half-smirk on his face.

You were sitting back in your booth just going on about your students from the dance studio. He loved how passionate you were about your job and how much you cared for other people. You two had been through so much, even when he had been an ass to you. You somehow took him back after everything he said and put you through. He was grateful for that. Life made sense with you.

“Hello? Earth to Jason.” You were waving your hand in his face snapping him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah?”

“Are you even listening?”

“Yeah! You were saying how you had to help some of your kids with their science and math homework and how you don’t miss science and math homework. Then you told me about the puppies you saw on your way to work today. And no, I still don’t think getting a dog is a good idea.”

“Okay, so you were listening,” you chuckle, “Sorry you just looked zoned out. I thought I was just rambling.”

“No.” Jason sits up leaning forward in the booth putting his hands on the table. “I like listening to you talk.”

You smile and instinctively lean into him as he takes on of your hands and with the other, you stir your milkshake. He gently rubs over your thumb. Basking in the comfortable silence and the background noise of the diner. Still holding his hand you sit back in the booth and close your eyes. If only every night could be this comfortable.

“Y/n.”

“Hm?” You respond without opening your eyes. He squeezes your hand.

“Will you marry me?”

You open an eye and take a peek at him. He was still sitting across the table from you. He hadn’t moved and was looking right at you.

He couldn’t possibly be serious. You chuckle. “Shut up.” You respond closing your eyes again.

“No, I’m serious.”

You take your hand back and sit up in the booth and stare at him half confused and half suspicious. You narrowed your eyes trying to gauge his reaction. Almost expecting him to go “Haha. Gotcha.” Or “I’m kidding.” You don’t know why he’d joke like that but you don’t know why he’d be asking you to marry him.

Marriage was something you two talked about but it was also something you two would just let happen when it felt most comfortable. You knew you wanted to be with him and he with you. So, you weren’t sure why you thought he was kidding.

“I know I don’t have a ring and I know I’m not down on one knee but I want to spend the rest of my life with you and after everything that happened I know you’re the one I want to spend my life with. I’m planning to get you a ring but I wanted to get you something with my money, not Bruce’s.  I couldn’t wait to ask you.”

“Jay....”

“Do you want me to get on one knee? I will if you want.” he begins to stand up.

“No.” You grab his hand and set him back down, “No it’s okay. I’d love to marry you. I’ll happily marry you. No ring needed. No need to get on one knee.”

He squeezes your hand.

“Should we just run away?” He teased.

“And have Roy be our witness and third wheel forever?”

“And always.”

You two share a kiss across the table.

“I got it.”

You two decided to elope to Vegas. You two were going to have a real wedding soon where paparazzi would be “invited” your mom would be there and all your business colleagues, Wayne enterprises, socialites, and other Gotham elite it would be a wedding for everyone. But you and Jason wanted a smaller ceremony for the two of you first. What started small as in you, Jay, and Roy. Turned into a Batkid affair. So you, Jason, Roy, Dick, Duke, Tim, Damian, Cas, Steph, and Babs all flew out to Vegas. Your first day in Vegas while everyone was out walking around together around the Vegas strip. You and Jason decided on a small stage space close to the end of the “Venetian” river.

It was Vegas wedding day. Roy stood beside Jason. They weren’t wearing tuxes but they were dressed nicer. Jason had on black pinstriped pants, a red button-up with the sleeves rolled up with a black-tie done loosely with a black vest on. Roy had on black dress pants with a yellow dress shirt rolled up like Jason’s and unbuttoned near the top with suspenders on.

The two of them were making small talk, to help calm Jason’s nerves. The plan was for him and Roy to be there with the photographer before the impromptu wedding. Then the rest of the family would appear shortly after. Jason had his hands in his pant’s pockets and laughed at Roy’s joke.

“You’re in a good mood.”

“It’s not every day, I get to marry my best friend.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t let you cheat on y/n with me.”

Jason rolled his eyes at Roy. When Roy gave him a big smile and pointed behind Jay.

Jason turned around and Dick was leading the train of the Batfam. Jason tried to look past them all to get a glimpse of you, but they had you perfectly hidden behind them.

At this point, the passersby that were minding their own business began to stop and hang around, some kept minding their own business, while others were interested in the show. Dick greeted Jason first, he patted his shoulder, “Congrats, Little Wing.” Jason gave his brother a light punch in the arm and Dick moved aside. Following Dick was Tim who also gave him congratulations. Then there is Duke, where the two shared a hug. Cass was after and gave him a fake one-two punch in the gut followed by a hug. Next was Steph and then Babs, who he shared a hug with both of them.

“You’re in for a treat.” Steph teased.

Babs blew Jason a kiss and the two stood next to Cas.

Jason looked over at his family to the side of him. A lot has happened and they stood by him through it all. To have them all here, he was grateful. Then everyone looked over to where they came in. Little Damien, who is now 13 much more mature than the 8-year-old you had originally met. Damien loved you and thought of you as a big sister.

You planned to walk down the aisle yourself, but when Damien asked if he could give you away to Jason who were you to deny him.

You always knew Damien thought highly of you but one day after you and Jason had gotten back together after your hiatus apart. Damien lectured you left and right about how if Todd is ever a dick to you again he’d take care of Todd himself.

“Not if I handled him myself first.” You joked with Damien.

“Good.”

Then one day, you’ll never forget you were looking for Damien, but couldn’t find him in the manor. You walked outside onto the manor’s patio where Dick and Jason were sitting.

“Hey, do you know where Damian is?” you ask taking a seat next to Jason, “I can’t find him.”

“Yeah,” Dick nods, “Hold on, I got this.” He clears his throat. “DAMIAN! JASON IS BULLYING Y/N!!!”

Jason shook his head and looked at Dick, “Wait, what?!”

“Goddammit!”

You and Jason looked around and then up as Dick nodded proudly. Damien opened the window from the second floor in the manor and jumped out of it with a fighting stick. “TODD!”

Jason gets up from where he’s sitting and quickly runs out of the way, “GAAHH!!!”

You look over at Dick who nods and is giving you two thumbs up.

Back to the wedding:

Jason’s jaw dropped and he couldn’t believe that he was so lucky to have you. You were in a short spaghetti strap lacy white dress it hugged your body and your curves it had a slight v neck to it but wasn’t revealing. You wore your hair down nothing too fancy, just some soft waves and a baby’s breath crown on your head with your hair resting on your left shoulder.

You had a small light pink and black bouquet. Your shoes were a metallic white pearl shoe with skinny heel with a buckle around the ankle. It took everything in Jason not to just run over to you, sweep you off your feet and shower you in kisses. He was the happiest and luckiest man alive. The photographer was snapping pictures like crazy. When you left Alfred just asked for some pictures of the wedding, if Alfred wanted photos he was going to get them. No questions asked.

Roy nudged Jason. Jason nudged him back and couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

Damien walked you up to Jason.

“Thanks, Dami.” And you two shared a hug.

Damien turned around and glared at Jason. “Todd.”

“Demon spawn.” He cracks Damian a half-smile.

“Don’t mess this up, again.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t.”

Damian nods and steps aside letting Jason know that he’s approved of you two together again. You give Damien your bouquet. He walks over next to Babs and Steph. Jason offered you his hand. You take it and he leans into you as he helps you up, “You look absolutely gorgeous.” He stands up straight as you two take each other’s hands.

“Everyone is staring at us.”

“Everyone is staring at you.” Jason gestured, down to what you were wearing, giving you an ‘it’s definitely not me, it’s you’ kind of look.  You smiled at him as you moved your hair out of your face and then take his hands again. He couldn’t stop smiling as much as he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. Looking at you like this was like falling in love all over again. This was happening.

“Hello, friends and family.” Roy began, “We are gathered here for the marriage of our beloved Y/f/n/   y/m/n   y/l/n and our shit-eating boy, Jason Peter Todd.”

Everyone chuckles at Roy and Jay playfully flips him off.

“Now, the couple would like to say their vows.”

“Jason Peter Todd.” You began, “Where do I even begin with you. With us? Since my first day at Gotham Academy when you kept spilling coffee on me. We’ve unfortunately been best friends since. You’ve been my first choice always since we’ve met and since I’ve been with you I’ve never safer. From the highs and the lows you’ve been with me through it all.” You wipe one of your eyes, “I couldn’t imagine going through life with anyone else except for you. So, take me as I am because I have already taken you. I promise to always be by your side through anything the world may throw at us. I’ll protect you through it all.”

He brings your hands to his lips and kisses them.

“I guess it’s my turn.” He rolls his shoulders back while he stands up straight with your hands still in his. “Y/n.”

He looks around him, his brothers, and his sisters. The crowd that had gathered during your ceremony. The perfect weather and the beautiful bride he has. You were breathtaking. Looking at you, his heart skipped a beat.

Every. Single. Time.

He takes a deep breath before beginning.

“I’ll keep it as simple as I can.” He bites his lip, “Shit.” He wipes his eye. “How’d you do this without balling?” he joked.

You chuckle, “It was hard.”

“Ok,” he gives your hands another squeeze, “Y/n, you don't have to listen carefully, because I will tell you a thousand times. With your hands in mine, look at this thing we found. I have everything I need and I promise to give you everything you will ever need because you make me not want to die.”

You let out a chuckle and Roy rolled his eyes. Before you and Jason would say ‘I love you’ that’s what you’d say to each other, when you first started dating and when you guys got back together.

You’d be leaving the safe house for dance practice and Jason called after you, “Y/n!”

“What?”

He’d tilt his head and give you a soft smile, “you make me not want to die.”

You crack a smile and flip him off as he flips you off in return. You continue walking away and Jason can’t help but keep his eyes glued on you as you left.

“You two have the weirdest relationship.” Roy pretended to be disgusted.

“When you get sad like you do sometimes. Anything you feel. Put it all on me. All of your thoughts, I want everything. I’m letting you know, I’m going to be around.”

It had been months since you and Peter broke up and since you have decided not to take Jason back. You opened your eyes and started to cry. He was standing in front of you. “What happened to us?” You ask wiping away your tears.

He goes to step towards you and you back away making yourself smaller.

“Y/n.” He hesitates and puts his arms back to his side.

You don’t look at him.

“I’m sorry.” You look at him. Now he was crying, “I was wrong. You were right and I shouldn’t have done the things that I did but I did and I hurt you and I’m sorry. I don’t want to be apart from you anymore. I’m better with you than I am without you.”

“Jason...” you feel your chest tighten as more tears begin to fall.

“All I want to do is love you and if you don’t want to be with me. At least let me be around...again. I miss my best friend.”

You get on your tiptoes and wrap your arms around his neck. Where he wraps his arms around your body in a tight embrace.

“I never stopped loving you.” You cried. “I’m so scared and lost I don’t know what I want.” You begin to hiccup and Jason rubs your back.

“I’m so sorry, y/n. Sincerely. I promise I won’t ever be the reason you cry again.”

“I'll lift you when you're feeling low. I'll hold you when the night gets cold. Your fears and your thoughts, give me all of it. You'll never have to be alone and that's all you need to know.”

You wipe away your tears.

“I’m sorry.” Jason apologized.

You shook your head no, “Good tears.” He smiles at you and you both look over at Roy who smiling at them softly. He nods and breaks the silence: “Jason Peter Todd, you may kiss your bride.”

Jason cups your face as he pulls you in for a passionate kiss on the lips as the audience that has since gathered clapped and cheered but not louder than his and your family only a few steps away.

[spooky-z]

Field Trip

Maribat is from @ozmav​

I want to make two things very clear:

Near the end there are homophobic and racist lines. So, please, be careful.

This is almost 9K.

That was D-Day. The day of the field trip at Wayne Enterprises.

Marinette knew she shouldn't be so excited, because please, she knew that place like her palm. But that didn't stop her from being excited to be able to introduce her friends to the employees there.

Every time she promised to take them to meet each other, but there was never a good enough opportunity for that to happen, since Adrien's father, Gabriel, was the biggest problem of the equation.

She was in the bathroom, finishing getting ready and had shared the hotel room with Alix, who from what she could hear, was jumping on the bed like crazy.

“Al, don't you get tired?” Marinette sighs as she leaves the bathroom.

The pink-haired girl - dressed in denim shorts, a black shirt with Batman logo, jacket tied at the waist and a black hat - stops jumping. Laughter ready to go out.

“It depends.” She replies. “Will you stop letting the rest of the class step on you because of that snake?”

"Al..." The warning tone clear in her voice.

Alix rolls her eyes and gets off the bed. She, like Kim, kept debating that Marinette should stop bowing her head to the class antics because of Lila. The girl had arrived in Dupont and destroyed the brunette's reputation just because of Adrien.

“Okay, I get it. I don't say anything else…” She says grumpy and Marinette smiles “For now.” And laughs at her best friend's frown.

“… I don't know why I still try. Really. You guys are a pain in the ass.” Marinette complains.

"It's love." Alix countered. "Let's go now. Those losers must be waiting in the lobby.”

Marinette picks up her bag from the bed, ready for the trip.

She was wearing black jeans, sneakers (they would walk a lot) and a big white long-sleeved sweater. Her hair was messed up on purpose.

Alix put on her old traditional all-star and opened the bedroom door for her friend.

When they were inside the elevator, Marinette turned to the girl. The high finger, like a mother lecturing her children.

“Remember: no trying to compete with Kim inside the building. If you don't behave, I will end you.” She warns. “And you know I can handle it.”

The pink-haired girl rolls her eyes but nods in agreement.

“I will behave myself. Promise."

"Great."

"Nice."

"Good."

"... You are unbearable." Alix says.

"I know." Marinette winks and they both burst out laughing.

They keep laughing until the elevator arrives in the lobby and bump into their friends, separated from the rest of the class, talking about something.

Alix pulls Marinette into the group, catching the attention of the rest of the class.

They ignore the scornful glances cast.

"Hey, losers." Alix nods when they get to them.

"Good morning, guys." Marinette smiles.

Adrien looked like he'd been kicked out of bed - his hair was messier than usual, a black sweatshirt with little cats, ripped jeans and the orange all-star he wouldn't let go of - his eyes barely opening to nod in acknowledgment, almost lying upright in Kim's arms.

Kim dressed similarly, except for the sweatshirt, which was several bats and the jeans were black, as were the sneakers. His hair was like Adrien's. Soft.

“Good morning!” He replies, holding Adrien with his right arm and waving his left hand.

"It's about time." Chloe complains. "I thought I would have to send Mr. Robot here to wake you up."

She was wearing light jeans, caramel UGG boots. The yellow jacket was open, giving a view of the white - which Marinette was sure was Alix's – shirt with Wonder Woman print underneath. Her blond hair was loose and her makeup minimal.

Max was wearing something Marinette never thought she'd see him wear before. A large hoodie - from Adrien, we should make clear - with Naruto print, black jeans and black vans too. He had the dreadlock — had grown since he was twelve — pinned to the top of his head.

"We took so long because Marinette was getting ready for her sweetheart." Alix teases.

Marinette feels her face burn.

"ALIX!"

Sabrina laughs. "Good morning, girls."

She wore a long green pleated skirt, white sneakers without a sock, a white shirt and an open button-down denim jacket. Her hair was tied in a braid on the side of her head and her makeup was minimal too.

Max looked like he was going to say something when Ms. Bustier appears, a man by her side.

“Class, let's go. The bus has arrived. This is the driver, Philip.” She points at him.

Marinette glanced quickly at the class and her eyes met Lila's. The smile the Italian sent her was freezing her blood.

“It looks like today is going to be interesting.” Adrien, who seemed much more awake, says.

The seven friends couldn't help but agree.

×××

The bus ride had been fun.

As they were many, someone would be left to sit with someone in the class and that was something that Alix did not allow to happen. Then she squeezed herself between Marinette and Sabrina, while Max sat next to Chloe and Adrien continued to use Kim as a pillow.

Marinette was wiping out her cell phone memory by taking pictures.

Proof, she says. Blackmail, replies Chloe, who was also taking pictures.

Alix and Sabrina were busy with the landscape, Max was studying about WE and Kim was playing something on his cell phone.

As the bus pulled up in front of the huge Wayne building cluster, Marinette felt anxiety bubbling in her stomach.

She had promised Dick she would not pretend to know anyone - Marinette didn't like to draw attention - so when she saw any of them, she would have to act like herself.

It had been a long and tiring conversation. The Wayne complaining that she never introduced them to her friends or that she always pretended not to know them.

Jason had even teased that she was ashamed of Damian and Damian retaliated by saying he was ashamed of his brothers. The two started fighting and it took Selina to intervene for them to stop.

Anyway. She had promised and Marinette Dupain-Cheng was not someone to break her promises.

She just wished her classmates were quiet and said nothing... graphic. Otherwise, she couldn't defend them from Wayne's fury.

Caline Bustier gets up from her seat and turns to the class, still sitting in their seats.

"We're here," she begins. “But before we get in, I want to make some things clear. IW has tough rules that should not be disregarded for anything.” Says “I know many should not have read the permission paper I gave their parents to sign, so I will warn them: they signed an NDA along with the permission. If you break this agreement, you can and will be sued. They don't care if you're seventeen.”

She looks each other in the eye, serious. Wanting them to understand the seriousness of the situation.

“Now I'll go over the rules.” She takes a piece of paper from her purse and starts reading it. “It's not allowed to take pictures, walk around the building without the guide or someone authorized, enter forbidden places and most importantly: do not disclose anything you saw inside. If a person breaks any of these rules, they will be banned from any Wayne buildings and prosecuted.” Caline lowers the paper. "Let's go now! We have a lot to learn.”

And get off the bus, followed by the excited class. The seven friends right behind, putting a certain distance.

"I'll finally meet the famous Timothy Drake." Max says, his face serious as if on a mission.

Marinette feels the warnings ring in her head. Max had built a rivalry since Tim figured out in a day how to solve a riddle that had left Max sleepless for months. That had been almost a year ago, but the flame of rivalry still burned in the boy's chest.

"Look, I don't know if the boys will be here." She says "I know Dick will be here, because he told me he would be the guide, but I don't know about the others."

Kim pouting, Adrien joins him and Alix too.

"But I thought I would meet Jason in person."

She shudders thinking about this meeting. No. Nope. That would not happen. Otherwise, she thinks Gotham wouldn't be whole.

"Neither Duke?" Sabrina question.

“I really think it's just Dick today, guys. I'm sorry."

The five sighs in dismay. Marinette sighs with relief.

"Let's go. They're leaving us behind.” Chloe says and points to the group ahead of them, already entering the building.”

"Shit."

And they run to catch up.

×××

As much as Marinette has spent much of the past two years walking these corridors, getting into the WI building was always breathtaking. The architecture was out of this world.

“… Thank you so much for getting this tour, Lila!” She hears Rose squeal excitedly.

Adrien snorts at her side, annoyed. He knew very well that the one who had made the trip had been Marinette. Lila was lying again and Ms. Bustier made no effort to dismiss the girl.

Marinette tightens the blonde's hand, trying to distract him from class.

“It was nothing!” Lila brags. “When I told Brucie that the class needed a trip as a graduation gift, he offered it to us. You know, he likes me a lot, since I'm his daughter-in-law.”

The class begins to praise her as a strange kind of cult and Marinette rolls her eyes at the familiar scene.

“What a nasty little girl we have here.” A voice purrs in Marinette's ear.

The girl jumps in surprise, a little scream escaping her lips. Everyone turns to look at her and she turns to find out who she was.

“SELINA!” She shouts excitedly.

The latin-looking woman smiles. Black hair in a pixie cut, plump lips and green eyes. She wore a black pencil skirt, a white blouse with lace at the shoulders and Louboutin high heels.

"Hello, kitten." Marinette hugs the woman.

They had not seen each other for a long time. Selina and Bruce were traveling a lot on their honeymoon, to make up for the times the marriage had been postponed.

“I missed you.” She pulls back, the firm smile on her face. “How was the honeymoon?”

“Wonderful.” Selina responds. “And how have you been?”

“Great.” She turns to her friends. “Guys, this is Selina Kyle.”

And then turns to Selina again.

“Selina, these are Adrien Agreste-” He smiles. “Chloe Bourgeois-” She waves. “Sabrina Raincomprix-” She says hello. “Max Kanté-” He waves. “And Lê Chiến Kim. My friends.” He winks charming.

The woman analyzes each one, nodding in approval in the end.

"They seem to be good people, kitten." She says. "I hope they can come to dinner with us tonight."

Marinette's smile gets impossibly bigger.

"Of-"

“Who is this, Marinette?” Lila's voice cuts the girl off. And the good mood of before changes to a sour one.

Selina looks away from the girl and looks at the rest of the class with Lila.

The girl had a despicable look on her face, a fake smile and sharp eyes. The class around her wasn't much better, since they didn't even pretend for politeness.

The woman observes the situation. At how once happy friends came together as if they were forming a barrier between Marinette and the other girl. How tempers became exalted.

Selina takes the lead, wanting to avoid a scene.

“Selina Kyle.” She replies. “And you? Who is it?” Question. The sharp tone leaves no gap for jokes.

Lila takes this as an opportunity to lie. Again.

“Lila Rossi. Damian Wayne's fiancée.” She extends her hand. “I’m the one who arranged the class trip.” Selina squeezes her hand.

"Damian's fiancée?" She hisses in displeasure. "Interesting."

Caline Bustier watches the commotion, unsure what to do.

She was sure the intrigue in the class would calm down over time, but it had only gotten worse. Worsened to the point that the Dupain-Cheng threatened to sue the school and report to the council, as no one seemed to see the toxic situation that became the classroom.

They were being dark days for Dupont. For Caline

All were under investigation. Mostly her, since she was the one that suffered the most accusations not only from Marinette's family, but also from Max, Kim and Sabrina as well. This trip had been an excuse for everyone - her - to get away from Paris and the rabbit hole they had gotten into.

A man dressed all in black - button-down shirt, slim-fit pants and oxfords - with styled hair appeared with the driver.

Caline guessed it was Richard Grayson, the guide they had informed her.

He smiled at her and held out his hand to greet.

"Good morning, I'm Richard Grayson." She squeezes the offered hand, feeling her cheeks heat up.

She could be a teacher, but she wasn't dead.

���Good morning, Richard. I'm Caline Bustier, the teacher.” She drops his hand, kind of disappointed to have to.

Ms. Bustier turns to the class and catches everyone's attention. She watches the Latina woman kiss Marinette's cheek and leave the building. The security guard waving respectfully at her.

“Guys, please.” And their attention turns to her.

Marinette's group still distracted by something the girl said.

"Good morning, Dupont." The man says. "My name is Richard and I will be your guide on this field trip."

The class cheers up again and Marinette turns her head so fast that Chloe is sure she heard the bone crack.

"DICK!"

The whole class chokes. Lila takes the opportunity to make a scene.

“Oh my god, Marinette! Have a little decency.” She whines shrilly. “Apologize to Richard right now or I will make arrangements.”

Dick raises an eyebrow at the Italian.

“Now there is no need-”

“There is a need, Mr. Grayson.” Lila cuts off the man. “She's being disrespectful to you and as I am the most influential person around, I must place order.

Alix and Sabrina snort, hands over their mouths trying to hide their laughter. Chloe doesn't care about hiding. Kim and Max were obviously filming. Adrien had such a big smile on his face that Dick knew it must be hurting.

Marinette was frozen. He knew that expression.

"... not necessary, Miss." He says again. Already losing patience with the girl. “Minette didn't disrespect me. She just called me by my nickname.”

Lila looks like she's just been slapped. Bewildered.

"The what?"

“Do you know Marinette?” Alya asks, her nose twitching with the scent of an exclusive.

Dick tilts his head, his arms crossed and a teasing smile on his mouth.

"Of course. She is my sister in law."

... What?

Adrien was right. That day would be interesting.

×××

"This is where Wayne Technologies starts." Dick says, pointing to the floor where the elevator stopped. “You'll see our specialists at work, so avoid distracting them.”

The class walked the floor marveling at the technology and the scientists at work.

Adrien was practically drooling next to Max.

"Dude, close your mouth." Alix jokes.

The boy's cheek burned in embarrassment and he closed his mouth in a loud snap. The hand rubbed his face just to make sure there was no drool.

Marinette laughed at her friend, but stopped abruptly as she watched the red tuft of hair in one of the tech rooms. That was when she remembered that she had promised Adrien to introduce him to one of the smartest people she had ever met. And a physics freak like him.

She takes the boy's wrist and drags him away from where Dick was leading them all.

“Come, Adrien. I want you to meet someone!”

“Wait-Don’t you need authorization-” He doesn't finish, as Marinette puts her palm on the hi-tech lock and the light flashes green before the door opens. "Oh."

The brunette pulls him into the room until she comes across a woman, not much older than 30, who was fiddling with a metal plate.

"Carmen." She calls and the woman looks at her, a lively smile appearing on her face.

“Mari! How long!” She gets up and gives the girl a quick hug.

“Yes, yes!” They laugh. “Remember I commented on a friend of mine who was a physics nerd?”

Adrien protests softly. He wasn't a nerd... just very passionate.

Carmen looks away at the boy and he nods shyly.

"I suppose this is the physics nerd?"

"Himself. Adrien Agreste.” Marinette replies. “Adrien, this is Carmen Leonhart, WI's head of technology research.”

As they begin to talk about numbers, statistics and many other things Marinette didn't care to know, she turns around, ready to leave the room.

Just to face the whole class, Ms. Bustier, her friends and Dick, standing in the doorway. Dick with the biggest fucking smile on his face.

"... what?" She asks. Confused with the audience.

Chloe gives a mocking smile.

"I didn't know you were allowed into these rooms, Dupain-Cheng."

Marinette realizes what she has just done and the embarrassment only gets worse.

She had been so excited to introduce Adrien and Carmen to each other that she had not thought about what she was doing in front of her classmates. Sure, she had promised not to hide her relationship with the Wayne family, but that didn't mean she liked to show off like this.

Lila doesn't seem to like the attention Marinette was getting at all. Her face in a sour frown and the fists clenched.

She sent Marinette a warning look before masking her dislike with a sweet expression.

“Oh, that's no big deal.” She says waving her hands in disdain. “I asked Brucie to authorize our class. He was generous enough to include Marinette on this list.” The scorn barely masked by the disinterested tone.

The class seems to take this as truth (as always) as Nino puts his hand on the girl's shoulder. A proud expression on his face.

“Thanks so much for all this, dude.” He says. “You didn't have to go that far for us.” And the class agrees. Raining compliments on the Italian.

Chloe doesn't disguise the grimace and Alix rolls her eyes so violently that for a moment, Max fears she was injured.

The class leaves the room, following Lila like sheep being herded, leaving the group of friends and Dick behind. Ms. Bustier didn't take long to leave either, which left them finally alone.

"Ok... Now where is my hug, Minette?" He turns to the girl and she runs to hug him. "Much better."

Marinette laughs, the hug lasting a few more seconds before they let go. Dick turns to the other five - Adrien and Carmen too distracted by whatever it was - and extended his hand in greeting one by one.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you in person."

"The same." Sabrina smiles.

“Now we have to go. There are a few more things to see and a surprise.” He winks at Marinette and the girl feels the danger in that expression.

One thing Marinette was sure of: There was no anxiety to know what this surprise was about.

Anyway, getting Adrien out of the room had been difficult because the blonde didn't want to leave. Carmen had to promise that she would give him a free pass so he could visit her while the trip to Gotham lasted.

The friends had no doubt that the blonde would live in the building and never leave the scientist alone.

Going on.

The rest of the tour had been less dramatic around Lila and her minions. Of course, she continued to lie about everything. How Bruce Wayne and his wife Selena loved her; the fact that Ricardo Wayne - the eldest son - had died in an attack on Wayne Mansion by the feared villain, Clown; that Jackson - the middle child - was an award-winning scientist; Thomas was unfortunately an addict, but Bruce tried with all his might to rehabilitate; and finally, that Damian was an angel in love with her, very sweet and romantic.

Marinette never thought she would have trouble controlling herself, but it was hard not to laugh at the Dick’s expressions and her friends laughing openly.

But apart from The Tales of Lila, the class left them alone.

As they passed the corridors of WI, Mari was being recognized by the staff and she made a point of introducing her group of friends excitedly. That didn't include the rest of the class and Lila, of course, could make some excuse for them.

Honestly, Marinette was surprised that no one showed distrust in the Italian. It was obvious she was lying.

But that didn't last long. Someday the lies would have to be revealed, and apparently that was the day.

They took a break to eat in the cafeteria.

Dick had gone out with Ms. Bustier to talk somewhere which, in Marinette's opinion, would not be a very good conversation. Or happy.

Adrien, Sabrina and Mari with a classic burger and fries; Max settled for a fettuccine; Kim, Chloe and Alix got pizza (not very healthy, but one day just wouldn't hurt). They were seated at a table separate from the rest of the class, but close enough to hear a word or two.

Marinette was chewing on her burger lazily while her friends talked when Jason Todd and Timothy Drake showed up. Both with expressions that said everything but good intentions.

"Oh my god." She whispered; the eyes wide. The cheeks full of food.

They scanned the cafeteria, probably looking for Marinette, and when they turned toward her, Mari used Adrien's height as a shield. Trying to keep them from seeing her. Which didn't work, since Adrien was shaking (laughing) and the conversation at the neighboring table (her class) had been cut short.

“Why are you hiding, Maribug?” Jason asks, his voice malicious.

Marinette sighs before surrendering to her destiny.

She stepped out from behind Adrien, face was red.

The girl swallowed the food.

“Hi Jay. Tim.” A smile appears on her face despite the embarrassment.

Tim raises an eyebrow at her, clearly amused. Jason doesn't disguise the shitty smile growing on his face.

"She hid, but at least she didn't pretend not to know us." Tim points out.

Marinette rolls her eyes, the shame already forgotten.

"I don't break my promises." She says.

She pushes Adrien aside to make room and points them both.

"Sit down and introduce yourself to those you didn't know yet."

They waste no time quickly pulling two chairs off an unoccupied table and placing them in the open place. As they sit down, Jason throws his arm around Marinette's shoulders in a hug.

“We miss you, Nette.” He says. “Demon spawn has been unbearably unbearable.”

She elbows his ribs for talking about Damian and he groans in pain.

"Even though you're a pain in the ass, I missed you too, Jay." Marinette laughs at the offended face he made, before squirming so she can look at Timothy. "And you too, Timmy."

Tim winks at her before turning to the rest of the table. The family (but Selina, since she spent more time traveling than at home) already knew Adrien, Kim and Chloe from past visits, but this was the first time they had met the other three: Sabrina, Max and Alix.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Timothy Drake, Damian's brother.” He reaches out first for Sabrina to shake, then Alix and lastly Max, who narrowed his eyes defiantly and squeezed his hand a little harder than usual.

Tim knew that the boy had a certain rivalry against him over the puzzle. Which was good, since he enjoyed a good and healthy competition.

Jason throws his idle hand on the table, startling the others.

“I'm Jason Todd. The best boy.” He says excitedly. ���Nette's favorite!”

Chloe seems to be offended by the man's words.

"I doubt it." Sneers. "Everyone knows I'm her favorite."

Adrien chokes around a fry.

"Now, we know I'm the favorite." He chews loudly.

It was kind of gross, being honest.

"Oh, shut up, Agreste!" Alix throws a potato at the boy. “It is common knowledge that I am everyone's favorite.”

The boy looks scandalized at her, but doesn't take long to throw the fry back at her in revenge. Alix dodges and the food ends up hitting Kim in the forehead.

He narrows the eyes irritably, Tim and Jason laughing, Marinette wanting nothing more than to go back to her hotel bed and sleep 12 hours straight.

Damian chose that moment to appear with Titus and Dick. And as much as Marinette was happy to see him, this was the worst moment ever.

She knew her friends. Knew well enough to know that the cafeteria had become a war zone and that they would be bombed at any moment.

As soon as he opened his mouth to greet her, Kim got up ready to pounce, but before he could, Titus ran and jumped on Marinette. Almost making the girl bang her head against the table by his strength and weight.

There was a general panic at their class table, probably afraid of the dog, but she ignored everything in favor of giving all the attention and love Titus deserved. Because he was the best boy, not Jason, thank you very much.

"Who's the handsome boy, huh?!" She pampers the dog excitedly, which licks her face. "I missed you too." His tail looked like a whip.

Tim and Jason turn to the brothers.

"Yo, Dick." Jason nods lazily.

"Demon spawn." Tim says.

Damian frowns in annoyance, but doesn't respond to Timothy's provocation. The attention fully turned to Marinette with Titus. Dick waves back.

"What are you guys doing here?" He asks.

"We came with father and Cass." Tim replies.

Marinette jumps at the conversation.

“Are your father and sister here?” She shouts.

God! She was not prepared to handle all Wayne and the class at the same time.

"Duke too." Jason adds.

Marinette moans in pain and buries her face in Titus's soft fur. She would not come back alive to the hotel or Paris.

Damian approaches the girl, ignoring the prying eyes of her class. From what he managed to find out (both from Marinette's friends and what he investigated) if he had to interact with any of them, the no-kill rule would probably have to be broken.

"Angel." He calls, crouching in front of her and placing his hands on hers in Titus.

Marinette looks up to look at him.

"Hey, Dami."

She stretches over the dog (who was calm, almost asleep in her arms) and kisses Damian's lips tenderly.

"I missed you. Too much.” She whispers against his lips before pulling away.

"Me too." Damian answers and pecks her lips. "And-"

"Marinette, aren't you going to introduce us to your boyfriend?"

Alya's voice scares Marinette, who jumps away from Damian and Titus. Which makes both Wayne and the dog growl in irritation.

He gets up and Marinette follows him. Her friends comfortable in their seats, Dick standing (without Ms. Bustier) and the class waiting for an answer.

She sighs and turns to face the class. Damian was firm by her side and she also knew her friends would be supporting her.

Alya had her arms crossed. The rest of the class was not much different and Lila's expression soured, since everyone's attention was solely on Marinette.

"This is D-"

"Mari!!!" A shriek interrupts the girl.

They all turn to the source of the voice, only to find Bruce Wayne, a black man and an Asian girl running toward them. More specifically towards Marinette.

The little girl's hair was black, combed into familiar pigtails. She was wearing a red, black polka dot dress, with a black bow around her waist. On the feet were ballet shoes.

She jumped into Marinette's arms, which squeezes her into a warm hug, grinning.

"Hey, young lady." The little girl squeaks as Marinette kisses her cheek.

They watch the brunette put the girl down and start a... peculiar conversation. Where the child signed and Marinette responded verbally.

"You're so cool, Cass!" Kim compliments excitedly, apparently understanding what the girl was talking about. She smiles proudly at the compliment.

They (Marinette and co) continue to talk to the little girl while most of the class remain stunned by Bruce Wayne's presence.

Alya jumps excitedly and looks at Lila.

"Girl!" She practically screams "Did you get Bruce Wayne to meet us?!"

The Italian loses at least half the blood on her face. Increasingly pale with the situation. Her lips were almost sickly and her eyes wide. She swallows hard before letting out a clumsy laugh.

“Y-yea… very kind of him!” The voice comes out weak even to her ears. “B-but let's not disturb his conversation. You know how important he is.” Mumbles.

Lila's hands were shaking. She needed to get out of there, needed a plan urgently.

Alya's excitement diminished, taking Lila's words into consideration, but she kept staring at the men, holding back not to scream.

“Guys, I'm not feeling-”

“Papa, Duke!” Cass shouts again, the dog barking along and Bruce Wayne, with the other man, looks at her. “Mari!” She points at Marinette, jumping and twirling her dress.

Both Bruce and Duke(?) smiled before approaching them and Lila panics. Everything could go wrong at any time!

She turned to the class, making the most innocent expression and trying her best not to let despair overtake her body.

“Guys, please, I'll pretend I don't know him so as not to attract unwanted attention from the staff.” She whispers. “It's something we always do when we're around strangers, so don't be scared.” No one noticed Timothy's disgusted look toward them.

"Stay calm. We get it.” Nino soothes her, the class nodding in agreement.

She sighs with relief, having managed to avert a catastrophe.

"Good afternoon, Dupont." Bruce greets, the serious stance of a businessman. "I'm Bruce Wayne and this-" He points to the other man. "It's my protégé, Duke Thomas."

Duke nods in acknowledgment, then soon mutters something in Richard's ear, laughing at the other's disgusted expression. He made no attempt to approach the class to introduce himself.

Nathaniel felt that what has been said to the guide, was not something minimally pleasant. He felt that the class was the subject of comment and did not like it at all.

Rose, being the most outgoing, reaches out to greet Bruce Wayne.

“It's a pleasure, Mr. Wayne. It's a dream to be here!” She says. “We were very lucky to get this trip.” And tilts her head to wink at Lila, who smiles secretly.

He shakes her hand and waves seriously, pretending not to see the exchange between them. When they release their hands, Bruce turns to Marinette, a soft look on his face.

"Hello, Maribeetle." His tone softened before smiling.

"Hi, Dad." The obvious laugh on her face.

There are choking sounds, but neither pay attention.

She doesn't wait for him to say anything more before she comes closer and hugs him. He returns the hug, making the girl disappear into his arms and kisses her forehead.

"I see you had a welcome committee." He raised an eyebrow, looking his sons.

Dick is the only one who looks minimally embarrassed, while the other three (Jason, Tim and Damian) pretended the issue wasn't with them, looking around.

The class (without Ms. Bustier, who was missing) frozen in shock. Lila was about to pass out. She could hardly believe what was happening.

"Hey, Mr. B." Adrien nods.

"Bruce, what's up!" Kim says.

"Hello, Mr. Wayne." Sabrina greets.

“Wow, B! You look soft.” Alix teases.

"By my calculations, Alix is right, Mr. B." Max straightens his glasses. "You've lost some muscle."

“Congratulations on the adoption. Cassandra is a sweetie.” Chloe says.

Bruce snorts and releases Marinette, who bends down to take Cass in her arms again.

The boys not even trying to hide their laughter. He could see the tears in Jason's eyes, Tim was bent over Dick while they both laughed, Damian had the hand over his mouth hiding a smile and Cassandra imitated the two older ones.

Duke bit his lip trying to contain himself.

"It's good to see you again." Bruce says, hands firmly on Marinette's shoulders. "I remember the last time, Adrien and Jason got into a fight with the police and were almost arrested."

Adrien feels his cheeks heat up and Jason stops laughing, feeling attacked.

"I really thought it was a fantasy." The blonde mutters.

The class begins to whisper, clear confusion on their faces.

Alya was choking on surprise; Nino looking at Adrien as if the boy had grown two heads; Rose had retreated to Juleka's side, not liking the situation and Juleka was the same; Nathaniel bit his thumb uncomfortably; Mylene and Ivan looking lost; and Lila... Lila could see her world crumbling slowly and with frightening rapidity.

The dog barks once more, waking Alya from her mental confusion.

She swallows hard, her throat aching from the action.

“What's going on?” She asks, her voice breaking through the dryness in her throat.

Everyone stares at her. The confused Wayne family, Marinette and friends with the neutral face and Duke... Duke was fiddling with his cell phone.

“Why do you know Bruce Wayne? Why did Marinette call him ‘dad’? What's up with everyone greeting her and who is this boy she kissed?” She looks straight at the girl, her eyes accusing.

Damian frowns at her, his fist clenched, ready to say something that Marinette or his father probably wouldn't approve of, but Bruce stops him.

"What don't you understand yet, Ms. Cesárie?" The question was blunt. "I think if Marinette was kissing Damian, that means the two are together."

Alya gets annoyed with the answer.

"And why did she call you ‘Dad’?"

Chloe sneers in the background. Alix rolls her eyes, Adrien tilts her head, Kim swears under his breath, Max stares in disbelief and Sabrina was busy talking to Timothy.

"They can't be so dumb, can they?"

Jason's attempt to whisper didn't work, as everyone listened to what he said.

Alya's cheeks burn with humiliation.

“That's a fair question!” Nino goes to his girlfriend's defense and Damian rolls the eyes sarcasticallyy.

"Answering your question, Ms. Cesárie, Marinette calls me that because she's engaged to my son." Bruce says. "My son Damian." He adds as he notices the confusion.

Lila sucks air between her teeth. Panic rushing through her body.

“But…” Mylene looks at Lila. “Damian Wayne isn't dating Lila?” She asks.

The Italian freezes when everyone looks at her.

“Lila? What Lila?” Damian asks venomously. "I don't know anyone by that name."

Alya grit her teeth. The anger clear in his expression.

“How not? She grew up with you in the mansion. Bruce Wayne practically adopted her!” She shouts. "Explain it to me!"

“Wow! This is kind of impossible, since demon spawn came to live with us only after he turned ten.” Timothy says.

Alya feels a dizziness start in her muscles.

"But Lila said that..." She mumbles. “She said Selena Kim, Bruce's wife, was her aunt. That you were a family!” Exclaims exalted.

“Look, I'm sorry you and your friends were fooled, but that's the truth: We don't know her. Selina Kyle has no nieces, Jason is not an award-winning scientist, Timothy is not an addict, Damian is anything but a sweetie. And the main thing is, I didn't die and the Joker never attacked Wayne Mansion.” Dick ends a little breathlessly.

The class is at varying levels of shock. No one daring to say anything, Lila wondering how to get out of that mess and beside her, Alya looked like she'd been slapped.

Marinette wanted to feel sorry for her classmates, but failed. She had tried, so had her friends, but no one would listen.

"So, you mean everything was a lie?" Nino asks. A dangerous edge in his tone.

Lila shudders, moving away from the class and almost falling in the process. She was afraid she wouldn't lie about that, but the class had a murderous expression in her direction.

“N-no! Of course not!” Babbles. "Can't you see this is Marinette's plan to make me look bad?!" She points to the girl, who was playing with Cassandra and Titus, no longer paying attention to the drama.

The class seems to believe at least a little, as they turn to the girl, probably to fight.

Adrien, Alix, Kim and Damian form a human barrier to stop them. The look on Adrien's face was no less deadly than Damian's.

"Don't even try." Adrien says. “I'm sick of you. Mostly from you, Alya.” He looks at her. “You can be worse than Lila and her lies. I thought you were smart enough to figure it all out, but it seems I was wrong.”

The girl's eyes was wet with tears, but she kept her posture steady, noting that her friends were no better off.

“You only say that because Lila didn't want you!” She screams. "You who can be worse than Marinette, Agreste!"

Sabrina and Chloe chokes before bursting out laughing. Max and Kim not far behind.

"Oh my god!" Sabrina moans "Is that what she said?" She sighs trying to control herself but failed and laughed again.

"That's the most hilarious thing I've ever heard!" Chloe says, wiping her eyes.

Nino is offended on behalf of Alya.

"What?" He asks.

Adrien feels his cheeks burn because he didn't want everyone to know, but if it was to help Mari, he would do that.

"Mm..." He begins. "I've been dating someone since the first year."

Lila looks shocked. More than their classmates.

“What?!” She shouts, forgetting the situation she was in.

The blonde scratches his head uncomfortably.

"Did you finally surrender to Chloe?" Ivan asks.

Both Adrien and Chloe made a face of disgust.

"Ew, no!" Chloe protested. "I'm fine and happy with Kagami."

“So, who is it?” Lila demands. "Who are you dating, Adrien?"

"Me!" Someone says.

And everyone turned to look.

Was a tall, well-built young man. Hair was black and messy; the eyes were incredibly blue. He was wearing torn jeans, a red vans, black Star Wars shirt and prescription glasses.

He was behind Bruce, probably coming in during the mess.

“God damn it, this became an event and I didn't know?” Duke whispers to Bruce, but the man doesn't respond.

"What the fuck are you doing here Ken-"

“Jon!” Adrien cuts off Damian and runs to Jonathan, who picks him up.

They kiss passionately and Marinette puts her hands in Cassandra's eyes, trying to protect the little girl's innocence. The group of friends moan in disgust. The Wayne family too.

"OK! I think everyone already understands.” Marinette says. “Now let go. Cass is here too!”

"That was horrible." Max mumbles.

Adrien releases the boy, his face red. Redder than Ladybug's uniform. And the other boy smiled, not at all embarrassed.

“Are you gay?!” Lila asks, the accusative tone clear in her voice.

"What-"

"I can't believe I did this all because of a fa*got!" She snarls, venom dripping from her words. “You owe me three years of my life, Agreste!”

There is a shocked silence from everyone. Even from Marinette and friends. They didn't think Lila could be so rotten and ugly inside.

Marinette puts Cassandra on Damian's arms and walks slowly to the Italian. She seemed to be marching to war.

"What the hell did you say?" The voice came out dangerous.

"What? That he's a fag—” A slap popped on the girl's cheek before she could finish.

The force of the blow caused her to become unbalanced and fall to the floor.

They all walked away giving them both space.

"I dare you to repeat that."

She approaches once more, but Damian stops her. Cassandra in Dick's arms.

"Don't do anything you'll regret later, angel." He whispers and she sighs, moving away from the Italian on the floor. “Drake, do something useful as a CEO and call security. I want this person out of here as soon as possible.”

“You'll pay for it, Marinette Dupain-Cheng!” Lila growls, the hand gripping her bruised cheek. "If you think you're going to get rid of it, you're very wrong!"

Bruce, who remained quiet, bent down to pull the girl by the arm. Fed up with all the drama.

"Enough!" He says. “Ms. Rossi you will do nothing. Otherwise, I will be required to report you.”

Lila snorts offended and tries to release her arm from his grasp.

“Do you really think that just because you have money, will you get away with it?” She attacks, the eyes wide and crazy. “I have diplomatic immunity! You just became complicit with this disgusting muso giallo*!”

Marinette notices Bruce's knuckles go white from the grip and decides to separate the two.

“Dad, please let her go.” She grabs his arm, stepping between Lila and Bruce. "If you keep going, it might be worse later." But he doesn't even blink. Lila begins to moan in pain.

Five security guards enter the cafeteria, all huge and serious.

“Father, the security mans are here. You can let her go.” Damian puts his hand on the man's shoulder and only then does he move again, releasing the Italian's arm.

She drops to the floor, crying while holding her arm.

"I'm sorry, I blacked out for a second there." Bruce sighs, patting his head.

Marinette hugs the man, comforting him. She knew he had some problems after years of fighting crime, especially fighting the Joker. Sometimes he was a little more blunt and rude, unaware of it. It was sad for her to see him in this state.

But unfortunately, it was a side effect of having to save the world every time.

"Mr. Wayne, we were asked." One of the security guards says. "Who would be the person to be escorted?"

Timothy points to Lila who was still on the floor, but this time Alya was by her side, helping her.

"She." Answer. "The sausage hair."

The security guards do not hesitate to pull Lila away from Alya, dragging the Italian out when she strained and stood still.

"HEY! Let me go!” She leaves screaming. WI employees don't even look twice at the scene, seeming used to it.

"You can't do this to her!" Alya complains. "Where is Ms. Bustier?!"

“We can and are doing it. It amazes me that you're defending her after finding out that besides being a liar and a racist, she's homophobic.” Jason says, no humor in his tone. "And your teacher is already on a plane to Paris."

The whole class chokes on surprise. The whole class.

“What?!” Adrien shouts and Titus cries at the loud noise. He quickly caresses the dog, apologizing. "Sorry buddy." Jon smiles, in love with the blonde.

“She had to go back to Paris for an audience with the minister of education.” Tim replies. “She and Dupont's principal have been charged with negligence and cover-up. If they are found guilty, both will face the law “

"And they'll be fired." Damian adds. The morbid pleasure shining in his eyes.

"But why? She did nothing!” Rose complains. Her face was red from crying.

“Exactly, Tinker Bell. She did nothing.” Duke says. “She saw bullying, witnessed it and never did anything to help or try to stop. She just threw all the responsibility on one person thinking she was making the choice of the year.”

"And what does the principal have to do with it?" Nino asks. He was the only one who seemed to have understood the gravity of the situation, but was slow to believe.

“Dupont's principal has been a coward for a long time. He left a lot behind the scenes because he didn't want problems with people bigger than him and that was his mistake.” Bruce replies.

Everyone in the class is silent for a while. Each in their own thoughts, digesting everything that had happened. Meanwhile, Marinette and her friends were talking animatedly to Jonathan, who had his arms around Adrien like a koala.

“So… did Lila really lie to us all this time?” Mylene asks, her voice barely coming out.

"Unfortunately, Ms. Haprèle." Bruce says. The solemn face.

Nathaniel puts the hands to his mouth, the eyes wide with dread and everyone looks at him.

“I-I didn't send my portfolio to the university I wanted to get into because Lila had promised me an interview with a famous comic book author!”

And there is a mass reaction of the same kind.

Apparently, Lila had promised to help them in their careers, with their supposed connections in high places. Which now, they saw how fake it had been, since Lila had promised to introduce Nino to Steven Spielberg since Dupont's sophomore year, but it was years and she always made an excuse for not having happened yet.

Alya fell to her knees, devastated.

"T-that's why they turned me down." She says tearfully. “They said they couldn't accept someone who published gossip and lies, but I never understood what they meant. Until now. "

Marinette felt bad for them. She didn't think Lila had clenched her claws so deeply that it would damage their future. She knew Alya would have complications to be taken seriously, but she didn't think it would be to the point of refusing her university entrance.

"I-" Alya mumbles and looks up at Marinette. "Mari."

Marinette shakes her head.

“No.” She says. “I'm so sorry for you guys. Really. I hope you can follow your dream, but I don't want your apologies.”

“But-” Juleka protests.

“I spent years being trampled and scorned by you because someone you barely knew accused me of bullying and being a jealous bitch. I will not accept your apologies. I'm glad you finally opened your eyes, but that's all.”

“Are you going to throw years of friendship in the trash just to punish us?” Nino attacks.

“What friendship?” Marinette says. “All I remember about this supposed friendship, is to do everything for you and you not repaying even 1% of it.”

"You forgave Chloe after all she did, so why not us?" Nathaniel points out.

“Because she was honest with me. Because she sought help. Because she got better and was genuine for it.”

"And we're not?" Rose whimpers.

"No. You're apologizing because you saw your golden ticket was false.” Growls and everyone shuts up.

They shut up because she was right. They were not genuinely sorry for what they did. They didn't feel guilty about it because it was Lila's fault! Only hers. She deceived them, she who lied. Not them. So why feel guilty about something they didn't do?

But they were guilty. Lila only gave the wick, but they came with the lighter, set it on fire and sat down to watch the candle melt. She didn't force them. They did it willingly and with unprecedented excitement.

"I think we're done for today." Bruce Wayne interrupts the moment. "They'd better be taken back to the hotel." He was talking to Duke, who quickly put the phone to his ear and spoke to someone.

"Come on, I'll take you back to the bus." Dick says, helping Alya to her feet.

The class begins to move, following him out of the cafeteria, but they notice the absence of the others.

"Mr. Grayson, aren't Marinette and the others coming too?” Ivan asks.

Dick glances over his shoulder before looking forward again.

"No. They will stay with the family for the rest of the trip.”

Because Bruce Wayne was so protective of those he loved and Dick doubted he would let Lila Rossi get close to Marinette again. Not when he had the power and influence to prevent it.

But then he would have to face Damian in the witch hunt. Dick was sure the young man already had at least two plans underway. One fatal and one less fatal.

Because that was how their family was.

And Lila Rossi was nothing more than a gum stuck in the sole of their shoe.

EXTRA 1:

"Okay, whose idea was it to bring everyone to WI?" Marinette questions idly.

"Dick." Damian replies without bothering to toss his brother under the bus.

“DAMIAN!” The eldest complains.

"What? I'd rather you angry than Marinette.”

"Okay, fair." Dick sighs. “But the idea was not mine. I just passed it on.”

Marinette raises her eyebrow, demanding.

"And who did?"

"Tikki."

"WHAT?! I'LL KILL TIKKI!” Marinette shouts and everyone runs away from her fury.

×××

In Paris, more precisely in the box of the Miraculous, the kwami of creation stops playing with others to sneeze.

"Wow, I think I'm getting sick."

"Or maybe someone is talking about you." Mullo answers.

“But who-” She widens her eyes in panic.

Plagg begins to laugh wildly.

“Looks like we'll have kwami barbecue soon.”

“PLAGG!”

×××

They didn't have kwami barbecue, but it was pretty close.

EXTRA 2:

"Do you think she would have gone crazy right there if I said you're not my only boyfriend?" Adrien asks.

"... It would have been awesome!" Jonathan responds dreamily.

"Can you pay attention to me? I'm feeling left out." Luka complains.

"Sorry sweetie!" Jonathan smiles.

Adrien thinks he wouldn't trade it for anything in this world. Not even if his lady showed up asking him in marriage.

... Which would not be a bad image. The four together.

×××

Probably Damian would kill him if he accepted.

×××

But still a good image.

[glossary]

Muso giallo – literally "yellow muzzle". It is an offensive term used to refer to Chinese people, sometimes to Asian in general, with intent to point out their yellowish complexion as an indication of racial inferiority. The use of the word "muzzle" is in order not to consider them humans, but animals.

I searched for racial slurs, but I was so pissed off at what I found that I needed to scream at the pillow.

[tag list]

@spicybelladonna​ @mystery-5-5​ @captainmac6​  @theatreandcomicfreak  @politelyvicious  @thepeacetea  @violatiger8  @vixen-uchiha  @officiallyathiana  @beautym3  @slytherin-heartthrob  @bluerosette23   @g-arya  @sassdowflame  @sunkenshipsanddreams @magicalfirebird @miraculous786  @emjrabbitwolf 

[red-winters]

*Batfam fic-recs

*Some are Tim Drake Centric

**Some links are not working in mobile (and ONLY mobile) for some reason? And some titles that were bolded in the original post are ALSO not displaying on mobile correctly. Idk what to do about that, but you can still look up the fic, I guess.

The Bat’s Crest - livierambles

Note: I will always keep recommending this fic. It’s epic, thrilling, and hilarious and sometimes angsty. Also, everyone is confused, including the ones doing the confusing. Maybe especially the ones doing the confusing. Also, some Tim and Damian bonding, which is always nice.

Summary: Tragedy strikes the hero community when Bruce Wayne commits a crime so heinous even the best start asking for blood. However, as the heroes try to recover from the hit and carry out justice for their friends, a random assortment of people start acting oddly, including the current Speedy Tim Drake, a child hostage in Gotham, and a young man from an unremarkable circus amongst others. All of them seem intent on saving Bruce Wayne from the grasp of the Justice League for no apparent reason, going as far as betraying their previous allegiances.

Unknown to the Justice League, these people are equally confused. Clearly they're stuck in another dimension, but how do they get back? How did they even get here? Who else is stuck in this world? And how long will Tim's patience last? Back home, the Bat was a planetary symbol that struck fear in the hearts of criminals. In this new world, it has no meaning, save for the handful of stranded souls.

In the Shadows - Kieron_ODuibhir

(shortened) Summary:

“I’m not like you.”

The cowl still looked like something he was wearing, but Clark knew it was not. It flexed like skin when Batman narrowed his blank white eyes and said, “I can see you know that.” 

Chirp - AmariT

Summary: Every piece of the signal Tim unlocked revealed more locks, and by the time he broke through the last one, he was already mentally rehearsing his many upcoming talk show appearances. 'Yes,' he told the interviewer, 'it was difficult for me, a ten-year-old genius, to break open the worldwide alien conspiracy. That's why it took a whole hour.'

When the crackling audio started, he expected some weird alien language. Maybe squawks and high-pitched squeals mixed with musical woofs. Maybe they wouldn't talk at all, and images would beam directly into his mind. Maybe they'd talk in practiced English with a Midwestern drawl like their other resident alien.

Instead he heard a low, guttural voice growling out of his computer speakers. "Robin," it said. "Are you in position?"

A Better Cage - Mangaluva

Note: I was absolutely DELIGHTED to see a Young Justice Crossover with the Justice Lords (Earth-50) from the animated Justice League series, which is near and dear to my heart. I admit I haven’t really had much time to hunker down and read this, but even skimming, it’s an intriguing piece of work. Also, Justice Lords.

Summary: Wally's grateful to have woken up at all, really. He just doesn't know what to make of the world he's woken up in. At least they want to find a way to his world as much as he does, if not exactly for the same reasons...

Common People - AmariT

Note: The Bat boys are all Bruce’s blood sons, but it still feels very much like a found family. I haven’t really read everything in this series, but I feel the author has an amazing grip on all the characters. Lovely and heartwarming.

Summary: His whole life, Jason’s mom had told him his dad was Bruce Wayne, but he’d never been dumb enough to actually believe it. They lived in a rundown, one-room apartment in the worst part of town, and in every single picture he’d ever seen of that rich bastard he was wearing a suit or sipping champagne worth more than everything they’d ever owned.

But if he wasn’t Bruce Wayne’s kid, then what the hell was he doing sitting outside the man’s office in Wayne Towers?

Red Robin and the Hood - momoejaku

Note: Haven’t read this in a while, but it made an impression. Though it’s a fic set during the Red Robin arc, it very much is about both Tim and Jason. Plus, it fleshes out the Pru and Z a bit more, too.

Summary: Bruce Wayne is dead. Superman brought back his body, and the family mourned him, holding a quiet funeral in secret so that the legacy of Batman could live on. But not everyone has been able to put him to rest.

Reeling from the loss of Bruce, his identity as Robin and his trust in his family, Tim Drake sets out on a personal quest that will take him across the world to prove what he knows in his heart: that Bruce Wayne is alive.

Though intending to make his way alone, Tim reluctantly accepts help from his predecessor, Jason Todd, who knows from personal experience that death is not always as final as it seems.

Together, they are Red Robin and the Hood.

Liminal Spaces - Calamityjim

Note: Skimmed this only since I’ve been busy, BUT it does look well-written, and I’m always a sucker for alternate dimension/dimension travel intervention-type of fix-its. It’s a very specific trope.

Summary:

Bruce's habit of collecting strays is not limited by dimension.

Or

When Young Justice Batman comes across an angsty, seemingly abandoned by his Batman Tim Drake, he decides to step up to the plate and parent the crap out of him.

Little Bird’s Vengeance - KatHarkness-Katara

Note: Crossover with Avengers. Awesome fic with Tim and Jason and some Outsider POV (via the Avengers) of these dimensional stragglers. I think Tim’s team shows up in the later chapters, too. If you’re reading on mobile, it’s still very much worth reading despite FF.net’s horrible format and abundance of advertisements in the mobile version.

Summary: Why is life never simple? Red Robin's ended up worlds away from home once again, and now what's he to do? What do the Avengers want from him; do SHIELD have another agenda; and is there any way back? Pre-New 52. No slash. Rated for inevitable language/violent themes.

A Displaced Red Robin - dragonprincess1988

Note: Worth reading despite FF.net’s horrible format and abundance of advertisements in the mobile version. Well-written fic! EMOTIONS! I love them. Younger Dick Grayson is adorable, Tim is a competent fixer-upper for other people but not so much himself. He’s kind of angsty and making YJ Dick want to keep him (and YJ Bruce, too, if you read between the lines). On the plus side, seems like he’s making good friends with Young Justice Roy. This fic was written before certain episodes of YJ came out, though, and the fic reflects/will continue to reflect that. Still, I give it five stars.

Author’s Summary: Tim gets transported to the cartoon Young Justice world, and he's not sure he knows how to deal with it. Attention: If you want to know about Artemis or people from Tim's world the final note on my profile is for you. Also, a special thank you to angel-gidget over at Tumblr, who made the wonderful cover art for this story.

The Till-then From the Ever Since - Keiron O_Duibhir

Note: Fandom classic. Definitely a must-read for Batfam fans, in my humble opinion.

Summary: It began, or seemed to begin, with Jason.

Usually that would have meant something in the order of fire and explosion and probably at least one gunshot wound, but for once (as Tim said, sourly), it wasn't actually Jason's fault.

The Wayne Family Ghost - pupeez4eva

Note: Please read this. Especially if you’re sad or anxious or just have time. I couldn’t stop laughing. It’s my go-to cheer-up fic. Absolutely hysterical.

Summary: In which Bruce realizes that having a legally dead son, who regularly hangs around the family, might be slightly problematic. 

Bloodline - chibi_nightowl

Note: Complicated family dynamics, this time centering around Tim, Selina, Bruce and, surprisingly, Damian. Jason and Dick make an appearance as supportive big bros, too. It works. Take a read, it isn’t that long.

Summary:

“Mr. Drake, I can’t think of a better way to say this, so I’ll just be blunt. This file is for your first adoption. By the Drakes.”

Tim blinked. “My what?”

“You were adopted as a newborn by Jack and Janet Drake.”

“Excuse me, but what the fuck are you talking about?”

Talon!Tim AU Series by keeptogethernow

Note: Found family, from a different angle. Cool fic and well-written.

Summary of Tso’ape Mumbichi, first in the series: Ten years ago, two people made a deal with the devil--unlimited funds in exchange for their child. And now it's time to pay up. But there's no way to ensure that the child will cooperate.

Shutterbug Series by goldkirk

Note: Exactly what it says on the tin! Found family.

Summary:

Tim Drake is thirteen, runs the famous BatWatch blog that has spiraled hilariously out of control, has absentee parents that suit his purposes just fine, is training himself to run the streets at night, and is doing absolutely peachy, thank you.

Alfred and Jason disagree, and get Dick and Bruce involved in figuring out their weird next door neighbor kid’s life. Everything goes uphill from there.

Thursday’s Child - anthalogia

Note: Well-written and has found family and Tiny!Tim? Automatic win.

Summary:

He’s not the first child with nowhere else to go that Bruce Wayne has taken in. Dick Grayson was the first and the most high-profile – because no one would have thought Bruce Wayne was interested in ever raising a child, let alone the orphaned son of circus performers – but Jason was maybe just as much of a shock to society for being a street kid who came out of seemingly nowhere. Tim Drake is ordinary by comparison – his parents died in a plane accident. He can’t think of anything very special about him except that he met Bruce a few times when his parents hosted parties to keep in touch with Gotham society.

Or, tiny Tim Drake is adopted by the Waynes a little earlier than scheduled.

We’re Not Driving (How did we get here?) - TimTheToaster

Note: Short and sweet, a little angsty, and then very sweet.

Summary:

Tim stared at his phone, as if that would change what was on the screen.

Dick Grayson @FlyingDGrayson

It took some doing, and in some cases a little blackmail, but we've finally got the whole family together for a movie night! #WayneManor #movienight #familytime #schedulingisanightmare

15 minutes ago

Take It Back Now Y’all - TimTheToaster

Note: And Tiny!Jason has made his appearance. Also, Tim, I am begging you to please take care of yourself—ah, Bruce has made his appearance. Interesting. Also, I gotta say this author is good.

Summary:

There was absolutely no way this sunshine was from Gotham in April.

Not possible.

Which meant, Tim was no longer in Gotham, in April.

(In which Tim finds himself in the past, and tries to do the right thing. It's more complicated than he'd like.)

Takes a Little Time, Takes a Lotta Twine (To Get Us Back Together) - TimTheToaster

Note: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, beginning of reconciliation, and brotherhood. A satisfying, cathartic moment during the Red Robin arc to soothe your heart.

Summary:

Tim was in Gotham.

Tim had pretty specifically been avoiding thinking about Dick as much as possible for the last few weeks.

For the last year, really. No need to open that can of carnivorous worms.

Dick had other plans.

Everybody’s Heard (Bird is the Word) - TimTheToaster

Red Robin Era ANGST, but like, deliciously well-written. Also, protective Dad Bruce is always epic. Light bashing of Green Arrow and BC, though. But considering the situation (in this fic), kind of warranted.

Summary:

5 times Batman heard other heroes talking about his wayward brother,

And 1 time they were talking about his son.

A Choice to Make - scorbusfics

Note: fresh and interesting premise! Cool world building, too.

Summary: They have to choose. Dick and Bruce have to choose one person each to save, and one to disappear through the door.

“Send one of us,” Dick says fiercely, not for the first time. His face is dark and angry and desperate, eyes flicking from brother to brother. “Send one of us instead. I won’t choose.”

“Neither will I,” Bruce says.

But Tim knows.

Secret Places - RenaRoo

It’s ANGST, but the author knows how to use it well. Also, Jason’s line at the end killed me. Damn.

Summary: Tim Drake goes missing. The search to find him begins.

[preciousthingsareprecious]

With A Heart of Scars

[ID: Photo edit. This title card comprises a black-and-white photo of a tree branch, with its background blurred. A stylized outline of a red heart encompasses a hollow in the branch, and the section of photo outlined by the heart has a soft overlay of green and yellow. The title text “With a Heart of Scars” is green and glows yellow; with the red heart, these are Robin’s colors. A listing of the author, artists, and betas follows the title. First is the text “by Matina (@PreciousThingsArePrecious)” for the author. Next are the lists “Artists: Scarlet (@srl541), Eileen (@ dreamer-247re), Leap (@wingsdingsandpurplethings)” and “Betas: Auri (@battoad), Xenia (@xvivon), Lucy (@houser-of-stories), Areth (@brambleberrycottage).” Following these lists is the text “Batfam Big Bang 2020 (@batfam-big-bang).” END ID]

~

Hey everyone! I am utterly delighted that I finally get to share this story with you that I’ve written for the @batfam-big-bang! I had such a blast during the Bang, writing and working with a ton of awesome people! 

A big shoutout to my betas who helped me really polish up this fic, and who were ever so patient with the fact that there’s like 50k worth of stuff to look over:

Auri- @battoad​​​

Xenia- @xvivon​​

Lucy- @houser-of-stories​​

Areth- @brambleberrycottage​​

And my artists who’ve created some just absolutely wonderful art and were equally patient with me!!

Scarlet- @srl541​ who did a full title card, betad ,and created this absolutely amazing soundtrack

Eileen- @dreamer-247re​ who drew this amazing scene (from a later moment in the fic I know you all will love)

Leap- @wingsdingsandpurplethings​ who did just the best collages for the characters in this story

And of course, bonus thanks to @bisexualoftheblade​ for making the gorgeous blue title card!

Summary: 

When Bruce dies there’s a lot of pieces to pick up. Dick has to step into the role of Batman, and try to hold his family together. Meanwhile, fresh from the league, and unsure of his place anymore Damian’s not even sure what a real family looks like. Together the two, and the rest of Bruce’s children slowly take steps to learn what healing is. While they do so, a dark new villain is taking steps to make themselves known in Gotham. 

Basically, I take Dick and Damian’s time as Batman and Robin and change absolutely everything. 

AO3 Link

[IMAGE ID: In the center of the image is a glass heart covered in small hairline fractures. The heart is bright blue at the edges, and fades to a purple in the center, with a smoky ring of pastel blue at the very center. The heart lays against a purplish gray background that appears to be metal in texture. Above the heart is the text "With a Heart of Scars" written in cyan. END ID]

Teaser

“As for cats, tortoiseshell’s have the best coloring; I mean, just look at them,” Brown said, waving a fork at Drake.

“Tortoiseshells? I thought you’d be all about black cats, with cute little white paws,” Drake said, making irritating pawing motions with his hands at her.

“That was one time! It’s not my fault Selina has the best cats.”

Damian listened to the conversation as he worked his way through his yogurt, not eating as much as stirring berries and granola deeper in. He bit back a question about Selina having cats and responses to each of the other’s cat comments. What did adding to the conversation matter at this point? He would not be here much longer, and the butler’s last rebuke still rang in his ears regarding his previous comment. No, it would be best if he held his tongue for now.

Instead, Damian chose to examine those at the table and catalog them. Many of its occupants he’d only met a few days prior at his father’s funeral and were new to him. He had, of course, heard of these people. Mother had debriefed him before he came, and when he had first met Father, the man had done the same.

More on AO3

[whereflowersbloom]

Shadows and thorns.

Part III

‘Let them talk’ Those were the words that echoed in her mind, over and over, and in many different ways. In panic, fear, delight, thrill, in many others she couldn't put a finger on. When she reached the castle, panting, she took a deep breath and tried to find composure. ‘Let them talk’, with his his deep, smooth voice her mind screamed, and she closed her eyes tight to expel the thought.

As a daughter of Azarath, Rhachel has been told all her life she must do everything to fulfill her duties. Including marrying a High Lord or Prince and bear his children. It also meant leaving her homeland, wed a man she did not know, she may not even like. That was her destiny. Wed Wallace West that was the arrangement. Not Prince Damian Al Ghul. Never in her six and ten years of life she had experienced so many emotions in a short period of time. She closes her eyes, telling herself to get a grip. No matter her name, her title, she will always be a Roth, brave, noble and true. There’s no reason to be afraid.

“I was growing concerned about your absence.” Constantine muttered quietly, his blue eyes asking silently for the reason behind her noticeable absence. His presence had caught her asleep at the wheel. She couldn’t tell him the truth.

“You worry too much. I was at the stables with Melchior.” she replied, unable to control her shaky voice, her bottom lip quivers as she tries to force a smile. She wasn't fine. She was struck to the bone with a feeling, the very same one that she felt when she first laid eyes on the prince. It burned and delighted her all at once. She was filled with breathless wonder and overwhelming sorrow that both brought tightness to her chest and a lump in her throat. “I thought he might be agitated in this foreign land.”

Constantine raised a brow in disbelief. “Be mindful of your words and actions. This place is a bloody pit of vipers.” John breathed to her ear, only she could hear his voice, firm and wary. It took her several minutes to tranquilize herself. Entering the grand dining hall, the guests were engaged in raucous conversations, men laughing and drinking wine of the finest quality, couples dancing. She finally found a place to sit with other noble ladies, as far as possible from the royal family’s table. Away from him.

Rhachel averted her gaze to look at Wallace a few tables over, drinking and laughing with his friends. He hadn't spoken to her since the feast started, she couldn’t blame him, though she may have purposely made herself unavailable. She observed him, everything about him emanated masculinity, strength and youthful arrogance. Prince Damian though was completely...no. Those intrusive thoughts again.

Damian was gentle, alluring, tempting. Yes, he was all that and much more. His hair shone softly with the color of the night sky. It was shorter and not nearly as curly as Wallace’s red locks. He had prominent cheekbones, high on his face, and lips as inviting as any Rhachel had ever seen. Lips that could that make her soar the sky, with the lightest brush against her skin, whispered kind and inviting words. Perhaps the most striking of all his features were his eyes. They were a vivid shade of green, resembling emeralds, that sparkled with intelligence and depth and darkened with desire and mischief.

~~~

Damian sat gracefully with his face leaning against his hand as he tried not to look as bored as he felt. He just came back more than a couple of minutes ago yet, he was already bored, which made his mind wander to Rhachel Roth. He closed his eyes, remembering, feeling the sudden urge to see her and hear her daring, charming voice. The white Raven soon to be his if her guardian agreed to break off the betrothal to the West heir. His eager eyes searched for her in the dining hall, until they found her.

She was staggeringly beautiful in her long gown, a lovely garment of lavender silk whose bodice was chased with dainty silver filigree and some precious stones. The neckline was low enough to bare the swell of her cleavage, and it hugged the deep curve of her waist so that every man, lady could see her body had developed, completely, wonderfully. She was only sixteen he had heard, but she had already possessed a woman's figure. His thoughts already ran wild with what that young figure may look like under all those silks.

A bold idea emerged in his mind, as a boyish smirk appeared on his face. Impatiently he rose from the table, not caring to give a proper explanation to his grandfather or Lady mother. He walked confidently across the dinning hall, towards a corner of it, where she was sitting with other ladies he couldn’t identify for the time being. His mind deliberately set on asking the Azarathian princess for a dance.

The white haired girl was too occupied, thinking of ways to avoid the audacious prince when she heard the ladies at the table tattling, ‘he’s coming’, sighing in awe. She didn’t have to look up, she felt his peculiar and magnetic presence. She silently prayed for Azar to give her strength to remain collected. She raised her head to meet his gaze.

"Lady Roth.” Damian said expectantly, voice rolling over the words like silk. “Would you honor me with a dance?” He bowed gallantly and stretched his right arm to her.

Her eyelashes fluttered as nervousness seeped through her veins. The table went silent, numerous sets of eyes focused on her. She had to reply. She couldn’t decline his offer, it could be seen as an offense. She nodded faintly. “Of course, Your Grace.” she whispered weakly. She hesitated for a minute, but reached for the hand he offered to her cordially, letting his wrap his warm fingers around hers and draw her into the dancing crowd.

“Your Grace. I do not understand your intentions.” She cleared her throat and spoke nervously, gazing at him as she frowned.

He surprised her, when his other hand, found her waist, bringing her body closer to his. He started to twirl them gently around the room, attracting the attention of other couples dancing. Rhachel had tried to shut down her heart. Explaining the feelings Damian Al Ghul had awakened within her with that one single heavy word that filled her with anxiety and dread. No, she wouldn’t dare pronounce it.

"I cannot help but feel that we are fated to meet more than once, my princess of thorns.” He confessed solemnly and Rhachel flinched. "When I first laid eyes on you. I wished to speak to you. The gods allowed me that moments ago at the royal stables, but I fear I cannot get enough now.” His words knocked down her walls, and she suddenly felt very vulnerable. "Rhachel, May I call you by your name?" He breathed urgently and huskily close to her ear, she went weak at her knees and could barely remain standing.

“It’s not appropriate, Your Grace.” She breathed, turning her head away slightly. Her name sounded so poetic on his tongue. Her mouth was suddenly dry, and she had to swallow in order to wet her lips.

Damian ran fingers ran through her moonlight hair, feeling it soft as silk against his calloused fingers. He bent forward, taking a deep breath of the lavender she seemed to have bathed in. The touch was electric, sending a warm tingle coursing through her frame. A fluttering sensation which spread its wings like a butterfly, journeying in a flight until it settled somewhere in the lower part of her belly.

“They say that before the tournament ends. The King will announce your betrothal to Lady Troy.” The words slipped out of her mouth unconsciously. It was not something she had intended on bringing up. It was not her concern who the prince married, shared his bed with, fathered children or anything he did. Yet the thought of the distinguished Amazonian princess on Damian’s arm or any woman, made her stomach clench.

“They don’t get a say in my betrothal. It is for me to decide who will be my bride.” He raised his voice, declaring indignantly, resolutely, with an air of authority he wore like a second skin. His face had hardened. Certainly, she could see Damian Al Ghul becoming a wise, righteous and admirable ruler of Nanda Parbat.

“Besides, I already have another lady in mind. She’s thoughtful, assertive, bewildering as lovely. She has brought indescribably joy into my life.” He looked at her with a playful, confident smirk, as he spun her in an exhilarating waltz.

She cleared her throat. “This all sounds scandalous, Your Grace. It seems to me you wish to kiss this lady.” she had whispered, feeling emboldened by his words. The suffocating feeling grew strongly inside her, constricting her chest tightly. All she wanted to do was to push him away, right there, in the middle of the hall. Run away from him.

“Rhachel.” He pronounced her name slowly, tenderly, pressing his body against hers. "Did you feel it too? When you first saw me, were you struck breathless, as I was?" He was dangerously too close. She could perceive his fervent and overwhelming desire emanating from his figure. Yes, she wanted to say. A million times, yes. Yet, she buried her yearning for him. It was forbidden, even if they wanted to cancel the betrothal. She can’t.

He expertly twirled her across the room. To describe Damian as ordinary would be a terrible injustice. He was holding her steady, knowing exactly when to turn and when to slow down. He was in complete control, he has mastered the art of dancing.

She then closed her eyes, and breathed in deep. When she opened them, she looked down at her feet, gathering courage before saying. “I cannot give you the answer you wish to hear, your Grace.” Delight and sorrow seemed to blend together in her heart, brewing a poisonous mixture.

“You can’t or is it fear stopping you?” He grasped her tiny wrist carefully, calculating his force, he did not want to hurt her, his brows knitted questioningly.

Rhachel smiled at Damian, beginning to take a liking to this enigmatic prince, but her smile faded as he stopped dancing and she broke away from his arms. It felt strange to suddenly be separate from his body despite only embracing for a short while. Rhachel shook her head, denying her own feelings. Her dream was, she knew deep down, a mere fancy, a remnant of a desire that would forever remain unspoken. “I have to retire to my chamber, Your Grace.” She muttered quietly, broken. A lump forming in her throat, teary eyed.

“Call me Damian. At least grant me that wish.” Damian didn’t want let her go. He debate to take her in his arms, keep her close and safe, taste those pink lips. Her soft pearl like skin. The scent of her essence, it was mysterious, floral and pleasant. He wanted her urgently. His desire for the princess went beyond reason. “Please” he never pleaded but for her, he’d put his pride aside, just to hear articulate his name with her melodious, soft voice. “Good night, Damian.” She whispered only to him, dropping into a curtsy, unable to hold his gaze, before leaving for her chambers.

“Rhachel Roth, I will make you the next Queen of Nanda Parbat.” Damian promised to himself, he clenched his fists and remained where he was. Determination and fire running through his veins.

New update sorry it’s so slow. 😭😭😭😭 @lunastar92 @xxitzmikoxx @chromium7sky @quoth--the--raven 💜💜💜❤️❤️

[bluebirdwrites]

j stands for joker; batfam

warnings; language, violence, injury, non-consensual touching (nothing extreme), descriptions of death.

author’s note; so,, this is based off of Arkham knight slightly where jason gets branded by the joker. except!!! in this universe, the normal thing where jason died happened, and it’s batsis that this happens to during an unexpected situation.. if that makes sense? hopefully this isn’t too sucky :’) fem!reader too, btw (: here’s my dc masterlist in case you wanna, you know, check it out! requests the opennnn ;)

summary; with time, you hope that Joker will burn. that he will be marked by death the way that he has branded your skin.

Being held up in the bank with your brother on the way to get lunch is not how you expected the day to go. Not to mention, being Wayne kids had massive targets immediately on your backs in the case of bank robbers.

If only they knew Bruce Wayne was Batman.

“Fuck’s sake,” He drags a hand down his face, palming at his cheeks looking rather like a spoilt child with an angry pout on his face at a time like this. “Of all the times that I don’t carry my guns. This shit happens.”

You glare at him over your shoulder, making sure to thump him up the side of the head watching as the white strands mix with black, “Not the time when we’ll probably be the ones offered up as rich people bait Jason.”

It’s not the people that turn you in surprisingly enough, it turns out to be the white streak of hair that flops over your brother’s forehead that gives him away as the a Wayne boy, and in turn you as a Wayne girl.

The thugs parade around you both in a circle making sure to taunt you both, roughly shoving your brother to the floor even as he glares up with such a ferocity you know he’s itching to lose it. So, stupidly- bravely maybe, you step in, completely ignoring the glare that is now focused on you.

“Well aren’t you boys just precious? Look,” you let out a whistle and press the emergency button on your necklace that would alert the whole family. “How about you take your hands off of my brother and shove them up your ass so I don’t have to do it for you.” It is said lightly, even as Jason continues to give you a look of exasperation that says to shut up, it’s too late now.

The men laugh as the leader- seemingly a member of Jokers crew by the white clown makeup he wears- steps toward you and lifts your chin with a gun. “Listen rich-bitch, I don’t want to mess up that pretty face of yours,” the gun stays put as the man grabs your waist and brings you towards him by the hips. “That and I always like a woman with a mouth. I think I’ll take you with me sweetheart. Make everyone else leave, let’s keep the girl here for when the boss arrives.”

You can see three guys grab Jason and struggle to hold him as the guy turns you so your back is to his chest. “Everyone out,” the guy rubs the gun in circles on your temple and cocks it as you give a fuming Jason a hard look telling him to go. “Or her brains paint the wall a nice shade of red.”

Everyone leaves, and you’re sure your family will be here soon as the guy feels you up. You growl low in your throat and drive your elbow backwards as his hand grazes over your ass.

“Touchy, touchy,” the guy ties you up on a chair in the bank ripping your shirt from your torso. The gun is still pointed to your temple and your impatience grows. “The boss is here rich-bitch, and he’s going to have some fun with you.”

The clown is pasty white and scarred as always. Still wearing a purple suit and an orange plaid dress shirt. Still a psycho with green hair and an unflinching smile; this is your first time meeting him in civilian clothes.

“Well, well, well. Whatever do we have here? You wouldn’t happen to be Miss Wayne would you? My, my, my,” the Clown’s cackles bounce off of the walls as he claps his hands in glee. “Now you’re all mine, mine, mine, to do with as I please. Can’t harm that pretty face can I? I’ll have to get creative.”

He turns to the thug in the room, gun still hesitantly trained on you. The clown smiles, mouth gleaming yellow and bared as he purrs approaching his henchman holding out his hand expectant. “Such a good boy, give me the gun,” the goon is wary as he gives Joker the gun. “Time for the fun, pull my finger.”

The sound of the bullet ripping though the man’s skull is wet, spraying blood and brain matter from the impact of the bullet. The henchmen’s eyes are glazed as his body dully falls to the floor and pools with red. The clown cackles and jumps with glee, clicking his heels and shimmying around the fallen body.

Soon after, Joker brings forth a battery and generator that one would use on a car from a storage closet. He unhurriedly connects a wire to each arm and each leg and steps back chittering to himself as you wonder what in the hell is taking your family so long.

“Now pet, I’m not going to kill you! Of course not!,” his voice lowers an octave as the first circuit of electricity goes through you with the press of a button in his palm causing a loud groan to escape you and buzzing noises to fill your ears. “I’m just going to hurt you. Really, really, bad.”

A mere few minutes later, he stops the surges of electricity, seemingly frazzled as he approaches you with a metal rod and an unfaltering grin and twitching, deranged eyes. You begin to struggle, as it looks akin to that of a branding iron with its red hot end at one end of the metal.

“It seems that we’ve run out of play time dear, I’ll leave you something to remember me by until our next play-date since we’ve had so much fun together.” The clown lifts the iron poker for you to see, red hot with the letter ‘J’ held close to the side of your neck.

You’re straining in your chair as you think you can feel the buzz of your necklace on your collarbones, alerting you that they are coming. They’ll be here soon is all you can think as you try and stall.

“Go to hell you” it is said, and it is said with venom lacing your voice. It makes the clown all the more eager as he pushes the brand into the side of your neck. The pain is searing and it makes your toes curl as a scream rips through your throat as you become branded with him. His name on your body forever.

He soon stands back and claps his hands as he reheats the brand placing the mark multiple more times against your bare torso, becoming increasingly gleeful as you scream and cry. “You’re mine now girlie, got me all over you.”

The sound of glass raining from above like a hurricane is reassuring as the pain throbs and your body is searing and sizzling where his brand has been. The clown stands behind you, lifting your head by your hair. He’s leaning over your shoulder as he shows you off like a sick prize to your family in costume.

“Look at how pretty she looks all marked up,” he yanks your head to the side showing one of his brands and slides his hands up and down your torso where the rest of the brands lie. “Now she’s all mine, mine, mine. I had fun with her today, we’ll have to do it again sometime! Tell her daddy I say ‘Hi’!”

Tears are in your eyes as you look at the members of your family currently in front of you. Varying levels of anger are displayed, as they all twitch and glare looking ready to rip the clown behind you to shreds. Joker leans down to rest his head on your shoulder and wrap his arms around your neck and giggle as the lights go out and he is gone. Just like that becoming a ghost.

There is a beat of silence where your head rolls harshly to the side as you stare blankly with silent tears. There is a beat of silence as they realise that Joker is gone and of the pain that you are in and the state of your body. The beat of silence is the calm before the storm. In that beat of silence you are scared, utterly terrified. Not of the clown but of what he has done to you.

You don’t move and neither do they, too paralysed and too numb and in that moment you just want your family. The tears come faster, they come in fat salty rivets that cover your cheeks and drip off your jaw. The panic and the pain sets in next, overwhelmingly so, and it crushes you.

Your dad is there first, not as Batman but as Bruce Wayne- he must have come through the front entrance judging by the wide open door and police escort- as he reaches you, his daughter. The restraints are gone as you fall forward into him as he allows himself to run his hands through your hair and kiss the crown of your head.

“Dad,” you cling to your father and you are aware as he picks you up and wraps you in his suit jacket being careful of the brands that cover your torso. “Can we go home?”

Your brothers are in costume you realise, as they vanish in quick succession, one after the other. When you get outside, there is press and police and sirens. There are flashing cameras and yelling. The police force a barricade around yourself and your father make press leave.

The next thing you remember you’re in an ambulance and there are four people rushing towards you and your dad. Damian reaches you first, where an out of character hug happens as he leaps on you minding the bandages on your torso. He has his head resting on your shoulder and all you can think is, ‘I’m glad it was me and not anyone else.’

“I’ll kill him,” it’s said as a snarl and you know he means it. There’s no playing around with what he’s saying, with the sincerity of it. “He hurt you. Branded you, and I know you are not okay before you even say it. I was worried and I am glad that you’re okay.”

With glassy green eyes, he gently lets go of you standing slightly to the side and then Dick’s there, half picking you up and still being careful with you. But you can feel the anger bubbling in the trembling of his arms and the ticking of his jaw, the familiarity of the dangerous temper hiding under the surface. You can see the fear too, within the tears ready to drip down his cheeks and the shaky breaths he takes.

“Had us worried there pretty bird,” and he’s letting you sit back down fully and kissing your temple. “Don’t taunt the guys holding you hostage again please. Don’t take after Jason. Cass, Babs and Kate are going after Joker at the moment.”

He now stands to the side with his jaw locked talking to Damian. And Tim’s looking at you with tired, worried eyes as he takes large steps forward to hug you. He’s hugging you as tight as he can; so tight you can feel the racing and stuttering of his heart in his chest. He seems beyond relieved that you’re okay.

He’s pulling back to look you in the eye. “When I saw you before, I-,” he’s now gripping your shoulders forcing your eyes to meet the smouldering steely blue of his own, that show the distress within them. “I thought he was going to kill you y’know? I thought that- well, I’ll tell you later. Just know that I’m glad you’re safe pretty bird.”

As Tim joins your other brothers, it is only Jason with you now. You can see it in his eyes- he’s tearing himself to bits. He looks like he’s been crying, his face is puffy and his cheeks and nose are flushed pink. He strides towards you until he’s standing so close he’s towering over you wringing his hands looking like a kicked puppy.

“Why did you talk back to that thug in there? I had it under control! You were hurt by him, it should’ve been me! Why the fuck? I will kill that son of-“ he’s ranting and running his hands through his hair, mussing it up beyond belief. His eyes are blue green and darkening with his anger, and his lip is beginning to wobble the way it always does before he either explodes or is about to cry.

And you’re the one pulling him to you this time, tired arms around broad shoulders. You’re the one making him cling to you as he hugs you as tight and as tenderly as he can while his eyes water and he’s shaking like a leaf. Only when he’s ready, he’s pulling back and silently asking to look at the brand on your neck.

When he sees it, he looks green and he gags. Not because the wound is that bad, but because of what it stands for. Because of who had branded you, of the promise Joker made, of the fact you both knew Joker would be back for you.

The ‘J’ covers the entire column of the left side of your throat, it looks red and angry and painful. Jason is tentative as he runs a finger over it and you look each other in the eye. It burns. And with time, you both hope that Joker will burn too.

[ragingbookdragon]

How Rare And Beautiful It Is That We Exist

The super angsty collab with the lovely and beautiful @livia-art​ PS, go follow her ‘cause she’s AMAZING :)

A Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne Story

Word Count: 2,100 Warnings: Explicit Language, Angst, Death Author’s Note: Based off Sleeping At Last’s ‘Saturn’. Cry like Liv and I did drawing and writing it. -Thorne :)

He stood in front of the mirror adjusting the tie, fingers slipping up and down the silky fabric. Hesitation drilled into his mind as he paused, taking in his reflection. It had been years since he’d put on a suit that wasn’t made of Kevlar and tri-weave titanium. Years since he’d attended any type of higher-class function. Jason inhaled deeply, pulling the tie up the base of his throat before he tugged at the bottom of the suit jacket, satisfied that this was the best he was going to look. About that time, the doorbell rang, and he turned, making his way to the front door. His hand curled around the doorknob and he twisted it, pulling it open to reveal his father, lightly smiling at him. “Jason. Good to see you.” Jason offered him a grin in return, accepting the hug Bruce gave him.

           “Good to see me? You saw me two days ago?” Bruce laughed as he released his son, watching him close the door, then begin their walk down the hallway and stairs.

           “What can I say? I miss my sons. Even my favorite one.” Something warm spread through Jason’s chest, but instead of commenting on it, he returned,

           “Don’t let Dick and Damian hear you say that…they’ll get jealous.” Bruce stopped in front of the door, holding it open for them.

           “Isn’t Tim included in that?” His son gave an amused grunt as he stepped through the door, waiting for Bruce to follow.

           “Tim knows he’s not the favorite by a longshot.” He watched Bruce frown momentarily before murmuring,

           “I’ll need to remind him he’s my second favorite when I get home then.” They climbed into the waiting car, sliding into the backseats. As Jason fastened his seatbelt, he glanced at Bruce and asked,

           “How come you didn’t bring along the rest of them anyway? Shouldn’t this be a family event?” Bruce paused, hands slowing over the seatbelt he pulled at; a moment passed by, then he replied,

           “…You and I haven’t spent any time together unless it was on patrol…I think we’re long overdue for some father-son time…” He looked at Jason, doubt running through steel-blue eyes as he hesitated, “…Does it bother you? If it does, I can call Dick and the others. I wouldn’t want-” Jason reached over, placing a hand on his shoulder, an easy smile on his lips as he reassured,

           “Bruce…it’s okay.” He squeezed his shoulder gently, adding, “And it is long overdue.” The relieved look that crossed Bruce’s features almost made him chuckle, but he swallowed it down, pulling his hand away and quipped, “Just please don’t tell me that I’m gonna have to suck up to the socialites…god, I hate doing that.” Bruce snorted, shaking his head.

           “Don’t worry. The theatre box we’ll be in is just us.” Jason raised an eyebrow at that and questioned,

           “We’re going to the movies?” His father hummed, gaze drifting out the window as he absentmindedly replied,

           “Theatre. We’re watching a play.” The reply made Jason roll his eyes and he mocked lowly,

           “Theatre. We’re watching a play. Should’ve said music hall instead.” Bruce gave no answer other than a quiet chuckle, and a few moments later, they were stepping inside the theatre, climbing the steps to the box. Jason lagged Bruce a few steps, hand tightening around the railing as he asked, “So, what are we watching?” They stepped into the box, taking their seats, gazes shifting to the stage; something in Bruce’s expression made him apprehensive, then Bruce disclosed,

           “The Mark of Zorro.” Jason’s expression went slack as the words failed him, and when he finally found them, he whispered,

           “…Are you sure you want to be here…to see this Bruce?” He watched Bruce’s jaw clench slightly, and after a minute, he nodded.

           “…Despite the tragedy that I faced that night…it was one of the best nights I’d ever had…with both my parents…” He looked over at Jason, eyes sad, but warm all the same. “I want to share this with you…son.” Jason blinked, the lump starting to grow in his throat, and tried to speak, but instead managed a simple nod. Bruce smiled in return, and the theatre began to darken, guiding their eyes back to the stage.

A Few Hours Later:

           “THAT WAS GREAT! OH MAN I’D FORGOTTEN HOW MUCH FUN PLAYS WERE! BRUCE! DID YOU SEE THE DUELING THEY DID?! OH MY GOD, IT WAS GLORIOUS! THEY WERE FIGHTING WITH ACUTAL RAPIERS! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW HARD IT IS TO FIGHT WITH A RAPIER?! IT’S INSANE!” Bruce observed Jason’s ecstatic words, grinning as he watched him imitate the motions of the previous duel. “OH, AND THE ENDING! THE PICTURE FALLING AND THE ‘Z’ BEING THERE! OH, IT WAS SUCH…POETIC CINEMA!” He couldn’t help the snort that come from him, and as Jason’s head whipped his way, he raised a hand to his mouth, coughing to cover it. “ARE YOU LAUGHING AT ME?!” Bruce grinned, shaking his head.

           “I’d never laugh at you Jason. Never.”

           “YOU’RE LYING RIGHT NOW! YOU JUST SNORTED! THAT COUNTS AS LAUGHING!” The longer he ranted, the more humorous it became, and ultimately, Bruce broke down, laughter flowing from him. Jason watched, ranting a few more times, but eventually joined him. When they finally calmed, they were wiping tears from their eyes with one hand, the other rubbing at their stomachs; Jason sucked in some air, letting out a breathy chuckle. “I haven’t laughed that hard in forever.” Bruce nodded, reaching up to rub his aching jaw.

           “Agreed.” Jason reached over, elbowing him in the side.

           “I forgot you could laugh Bruce.” His father stopped, the joyful expression quickly replaced with a heartbreaking, sorrowful one.

           “…I didn’t laugh a lot after you were gone…didn’t feel like it.” Jason’s face dropped as well, the memories of a darker time coming back to the surface. He shifted his weight between his feet, eyes staring downwards so he didn’t have to look at Bruce; he didn’t want to see the pain etched across his face. “Things got easier after Tim came along…but he always saw himself as stand-in…never the son I thought he was.” Jason inhaled deeply, gathering the courage to look back at his father and say,

           “Things are better now than they were Bruce.” His father tried to smile, but could only form a grimace, nodding along.

           “…They are…” Bruce took a breath, looking up at the sky before he shifted his gaze back down, a small smile on his face; he tipped his head to the side. “Let’s get out of here and go home.” Jason nodded, feet beginning to shift in the direction of the entrance when a shadow fell across them. A glint of silver shone in the moonlight, the sharp snap of the hammer followed by a bright flash rocked their senses, and Bruce reacted, sliding between the bullet and Jason.

You taught me the courage of stars before you left. How light carries on endlessly, even after death. With shortness of breath, you explained the infinite. How rare and beautiful it is, to even exist.

           Everything shifted as time distorted, and Jason watched, teal eyes widening with each passing second as Bruce jerked backwards, knees beginning to collapse under him. Jason first instinct was to apprehend the fleeing shooter, but the more pressing matter of Bruce collapsing outranked it; he caught Bruce as he dropped, arms winding around his chest, hands seeking out wherever the bullet had entered. They hit the ground, Bruce’s shoulders pressed back against Jason’s chest, head resting against his clavicle. Jason stared in horror as the crimson liquid spread, staining the pristine white shirt Bruce had on. He reached forward, fingers splaying against the center of Bruce’s chest, hissing, “Shit. Shit. Shit.” He looked around, voice panicky. “Bruce where’s your cellphone? I need to call an ambulance.” Bruce groaned, shaking his head, voice soft as he teased,

           “Left it in the car…not polite to bring cellphones into…theatres...” Had the situation not been so dire, Jason would’ve laughed, but the reality was beaming down on him, the alley walls closing tighter and tighter around them and he spat,

           “Oh, come on! You’re always prepared! You’re gonna tell me the one-time you’re shot you’re not carrying a phone?!” The blood started to slip between his fingers, making his grip weak as he pressed harder, and he angrily continued, “What were you thinking?! Why would you do something like this?!” Bruce shook his head at Jason’s words, and he let out a low curse, sighing, “Look, someone must’ve heard the gun go off. Help is gonna find us, Bruce. Don’t worry.” His father gave a weak chuckle, steel-blue eyes catching Jason’s for a moment before he glanced upwards to the sky and murmured,

           “Look at all of them Jay…the stars…how courageous they are to keep shining even after they’ve died.” His gaze drifted back to Jason’s and he praised, “Just like you...so strong-willed and-” Bruce’s voice faltered, breathing heavily and swallowing thickly as he pushed the words out. “Passionate…everything is everlasting Jason…life and death are just terms…just…stages of existence…but rarity and beauty…comes through living…through existing…” He paused, smiling at Jason, pearly white teeth stained red. “Your existence is up there, Jay…with the best of them all…and all that greatness out there? The universe and all it has? That’s all for you to see Jay…for your eyes…”

I couldn’t help but ask, for you to say it all again. I tried to write it down, but I could never find a pen. I’d give anything to hear you say it one more time, That the universe was made just to be seen by my eyes.

           Jason sucked in a breath, but it didn’t do any good. His lungs were on fire and his chest burned as if he’d inhaled smoke from a wildfire. He could barely see Bruce’s face anymore, vision too blurred by the endless number of tears streaming down his face. He choked on his breath, stuttering out, “Stay-stay awake old man. Help is coming.” Bruce’s breathing had quieted, no longer the heavy puffs in and out he’d taken just moments earlier; he hummed lowly.

           “Just…restin’ my…eyes Jay…” Jason groaned, curling his arms tighter around his chest.

           “No-no-no. Don’t do that.” He formed a smile, breathing out, “Tell me again about the universe. How it’s all for me to see.” The corners of Bruce’s lips turned upwards, and he murmured,

           “…Got a…pen?” Jason shifted his hands, right pressing tightly to the wound, the other searching his suit pockets. After a moment, he frowned and whispered,

           “I can’t find one.” He dropped his head against Bruce’s, chin propped on his head. “C’mon old man…tell me again…I’ll give anything for it.” He clenched his eyes shut, the pressure forcing more tears down his cheeks, then he felt a hand brush in his hair, and he shifted, opening his eyes to look down, seeing Bruce smile faintly at him.

           “It’s all for you Jay…all the universe…everything…” His lips wobbled as he nodded and acknowledged,

           “Thank you…dad.” As if he’d been given a few seconds more of life, Bruce’s smile grew and he breathed gently,

           “I’m proud…of you…Jason…always have been…always…will be…” The hand softly patting his hair began to slip, and Jason’s heart stopped as he heard, “…Love you…son…” Jason’s hand shot forward, gripping Bruce’s, the words tumbling from his mouth like a cascade of rapid waters.

           “Dad don’t go. Please don’t go. I love you too dad. Please just…don’t leave me here by myself.” This time, his pleas sparked no response, and Jason shifted, pulling Bruce against him, one arm crossing Bruce’s chest, the other cradling his head. His fingers brushed against his father’s temple, pushing the hair from his sweat-slicked forehead. Warmth spread across his fingertips, but Jason didn’t feel any of it…all he felt was cold…and freezing. His jaw clenched, the air restricting in his lungs as he tried to take a breath in. Warmth flowed down his cheeks as he shut his eyes, grip tightening as he began to rock slightly. Too many emotions built up at once: anger, hurt, pain, sorrow, but all he could manage were silent tears. Another flash of light surrounded him, the piercing shrill of a siren in his ears, but he heard nothing, felt nothing.

           Jason opened his eyes, tipping his head up to the sky, gaze attended by the billions of twinkling stars above him, as if they would save him.

With shortness of breath, I’ll explain the infinite. How rare, and beautiful it truly is, that we exist.

[violetsmoak]

Pieces of April [18/?]

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21099044/chapters/50202530

Summary: On the anniversary of his death, Jason’s second life takes an abrupt new turn and he’s faced with a challenge that neither Batman nor the All-Caste prepared him for.

Rating: PG-13 (rating may change later)

Author’s Note: Sorry for the wait on the latest chapter, I spent the weekend plotting some original work and it sort of took over my brain for a while. Also, this chapter has been fighting me. Mostly because I’ve been working on the big Batfam discovery moment and I can’t wait to get there, and having to slow down and write everything in between is soooooo frustrating! But hopefully we’ll get there soon lol. In the meantime, enjoy!

First Chapter

________________________________________________________________

The next morning finds Jason once again in Tim’s kitchen, this time doing a fry-up of bacon and eggs. He’d been surprised to find either of those things in Tim’s fridge, having appeared as if by magic.

(Jason suspects Tim gets his groceries delivered instead of shopping like a normal person; he’s not going to complain, though, since food is food.)

From her carrier’s usual perch on the kitchen island, Luisa is frowning at him—or at least frowning at his general direction—in disapproval like a miniature, squishy Winston Churchill.

“What?” he asks her, feeling oddly judged. “You don’t like my fryin' technique?” She sticks her tongue out, and yawns, easing back in her carrier. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

He’d probably shit his pants if she actually spoke back, but he’s seen stranger things in his life.

Suddenly, there’s a sharp, explosive bang from outside as a car backfires, and Luisa jolts, eyes going wide in shock before she starts shrieking.

“Crap,” Jason grunts, dropping the spatula and hurrying over to pick up the startled baby. Lifting her up, he starts rocking her back and forth, trying to shush her and wincing as the crying just gets louder.

How does such a little thing make such a big noise?

Still trying to calm her, he goes to pick the spatula up off the floor to toss in the sink and glances around for another. Luisa keeps crying, little fists beating ineffectually at him, and no matter what position he holds her in she refuses to let up.

“I know you’ve never heard something that loud before, but don’t you think this is an overreaction?” he mutters, glancing desperately around for the cape Tim was using as a carrier the other day. It’s nowhere within range, and so he turns off the stove and shoves aside the pan to ensure the bacon doesn’t burn while he deals with the baby complication.

As he searches, rocking and shushing Luisa as he goes, he’s getting generally more frustrated at not being able to get her to stop wailing. He’s on the verge of giving up and going to wake Tim—which is embarrassing on so many levels—when he remembers what the kid told him yesterday about heartbeat and skin-to-skin contact.

Making a quick decision, he places the squalling infant on the couch for an instant while he shrugs out of his shirt. Then, ignoring the sense of awkwardness he picks her up to hold against his bare chest, cradling her head in support as he continues to rock subtly, bouncing somewhat on the balls of his feet.

Luisa’s still wailing, mushing her face into his chest almost in protest, and his ears are beginning to ring. But slowly, as the minutes creep by, the sound morphs into weak fussing. Her little ear settles against a spot near his breastbone, right over his heart, and that sound wanes as well.

There’s a sniffle, a wet almost-hiccup in her breathing, and then she goes silent and calm again.

Hey, look at that.

Jason actually managed to calm her down himself, instead of calling for help or putting her down to yell until she tired herself out. He’s not sure why he feels a stab of pride in that, but he decides it doesn’t matter in the face of the now silent baby.

He keeps hold of her until her breathing evens out and she passes out and then returns to the kitchen and the carrier.

Once she’s settled again, he notices that he’s being watched, and glances up to see Tim, ruffled and still blinking sleep out of his eyes even as he studies the scene in front of him.

Eyes raking up Jason’s form, he opens his mouth to say something, frowns to himself and shakes his head.

“I need coffee,” he mumbles at last and slouches into the kitchen to turn on the Keurig. While waiting for it to brew, he turns back to Jason, leaning against the counter and tilts his head to one side. “I didn’t know you had tattoos.”

Jason looks down his front at the All-Caste markings no longer hidden by the baby’s form.

They’re not tattoos. At least, not exactly.

But the real story’s too complicated and not something he wants to get back to the Bats, so he just shrugs and says, “I don’t exactly put out announcements in the Family newsletter.”

Tim nods, ceding the point.

“So, what do they mean?” he asks as his coffee finishes brewing.

“None of your damn business. Don’t you have work?”

The younger man raises an eyebrow. “It’s Saturday?”

Right. Weekends are a thing.

“I do have some online classes to log on for later, though,” Tim goes on. “But I don’t really have to dress up in a suit for that.” He smirks. “I’m not Damian.”

“I dunno—you’re both pint-sized pains in my ass,” Jason retorts, trying to hide his surprise that Tim is still in school. He thought he’d dropped out when Bruce went missing in the timestream; he didn’t realize the guy was still doing that.

God, he’s doing school on top of everything else? How is this kid still alive?

“I’m still taller than he is,” Tim hedges, with a trace of sulk in his voice.

Heh. Think we’ve hit a sore point there.

But he chooses not to pursue it; better for him if Tim’s in a good mood.

“I’m goin' out again today,” he informs him, trying not to grit his teeth at the effort it takes not to make it sound like a question. He doesn’t need permission, damn it! “Have a little conversation with Isabel’s ex, for all the good it’ll do.”

“I figured as much,” Tim replies, unbothered. He sips at his coffee. “Isa and I will be fine. Besides, when I’m done my classwork, I’ve got a lead I want to pursue. I might have tracked down some of Isabel’s blood relatives.”

Jason pauses, ears perking up. “Seriously?”

“I think so. Try not to get your hopes up, though.” He frowns then, tilting his head to one side. “You might want to do something about that before you go meeting with anyone.”  

He makes a circular motion around his own forehead.

Nonplussed, Jason wanders toward the mantlepiece and the mirror above it, making a noise of understanding when he realizes what Tim was pointing out.

“Noted,” he agrees, flicking at his hair.

The problem with dying his hair black is the need to touch it up every six weeks; the roots of his natural red coloring start to peek through around then, along with the thick white streak that sprouts from just above the scar in his hairline. The latter doesn’t hold the color for very long, fading to a washed-out gray-white within a few washes.

The upkeep is a pain in the ass, but black hair is a lot less memorable in his line of work, a lesson he learned quickly as both Robin and during his League training.

Once Tim’s settled into his temporary workstation at the kitchen table, with Luisa snoozing within easy reach, Jason takes off.

Like the day before, he commandeers one of Tim’s bikes and heads out to pharmacy near one of his safehouses in Midtown. He figures it’s best to keep any kind of chemical smell far away from the baby, and besides he kind of wants to avoid Tim walking in on the dyeing process. He needs to do his eyebrows, and if the younger man were to make a comment, Jason would have to punch him—which seems a poor reward for someone helping him out right now.

Once he’s applied the dye and is waiting for it to set, he uses the laptop in his bolt hole to remotely access the Cave systems again and brings up the phone records between Isabel and her group of friends, including Jonathan Sutter.

It feels morbid and invasive, but he needs a better sense of who these people are and how to approach them. The texts between her and her friends are the usual thing you’d expect from a group of twenty-somethings making plans or bitching about work. As for the exchanges between her and Sutter, there aren’t that many; it seems their relationship was mostly in person or by phone.

Jason’s relieved about that because he’s not sure he could stomach reading his dead ex-girlfriend’s sexting her boyfriend.

Because I don’t feel creepy enough about this as it is…

He finds reference to a few events they attended together—restaurant dinner, a trip to the opera, a Broadway play—

“Wow, this guy was predictable,” Jason mutters to himself before he finds something interesting.

Sutter’s accounting firm did work on a huge contract with WE the year before, resulting in invitations to one of their charity events. Sutter evidently invited Isabel to go with him, which could provide a good backstory for Jason.

He’s been to those things before, both under protest and undercover, and they all go down the same way. It’s an easy cover for what he needs.

Closing the laptop, he goes to wash the last of the dye off and then showers for good measure. He actually takes more than ten minutes for once, since he’s alone and doesn’t need to keep his ear out for a crying baby. Even when he knows Tim is watching her, he can’t help waiting for something bad to happen.

It’s a bit irritating, actually; he inherited all the worries a new parent might feel about screwing up their kid, and yet none of the connection. It’s not just because he’s holding himself back from it either; he wonders if he had known about the baby—if he and Isabel had been involved during her pregnancy—if he would feel more of a bond to Luisa.

“No point wonderin',” he mutters to himself as he gets out of the shower and towels off. He learned a long time ago that speculating over the ‘what-if’s’ of the past would just lead him down a dark pit of self-pity.

On a whim, he grabs the make-up and prosthetic’s kit from beneath the sink and sets about making himself a disguise. He doesn’t usually bother with disguises anymore—those undercover gigs with Bruce seem far too long ago—but since he’s just testing the waters, he doesn’t want to be too recognizable.

The end result is a passable imitation of the infamous Matches Malone look Bruce cultivated, though Jason makes an effort to look a lot more kempt, before setting out once more.

The cameras he left watching Sutter’s place, as well as the tracker on his car, put him at a strip-mall not far from his home. Upon investigation, Jason finds himself standing in front of a high-priced vegan grocery.

“Seriously?” Jason mutters to himself, wrinkling his nose in disgust. The store isn’t even one of the legit wholesale places filled with locally sourced products, but one of the trendy boutiques, stocked with items that are three times more expensive just to cover the import costs and the brand name.

He loiters around the shelves, pretending to be examining the dozens of different types of Norwegian water while keeping an eye out for his target.

Sutter appears at the head of the aisle moments later, pushing a cart and followed by a young brunette. Younger than him, at least; Sutter’s about thirty, which puts the woman he’s with at about ten years younger.

She says something to him, clearly cheerful and excited, and Sutter replies in kind, accepting whatever package she puts in the cart. She leans up to peck him on the cheek, and then practically bounces away. The minute she’s gone, Sutter’s expression becomes long-suffering. He checks his phone with an air of impatience.

So he’s not actually into his stuff, but faking it for her.

It’s possible that’s just him attempting to be a supportive boyfriend, Jason supposes. But it also suggests the decision-maker in the relationship is the girlfriend, which could be a problem.

Only one way to find out.

He makes a production of turning just as Sutter passes him, and then affects a double-take at seeing him for the first time.

“Hey, I know you!” he declares, earning a look of surprise, followed by the guy looking around with a ‘who me?’ kind of expression. Jason pretends not to see it. “Johnny—John? Sutter, right?”

The man stares at him, apprehensive. “Yes? Do I know you?”

“You don’t remember?” Jason says, affecting an amused chuckle. “Heh. Guess you wouldn’t, I look a lot spiffier in a tux.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t—"

“Peter Malone, Locke Insurance? We met at the WE charity ball last March.” Sutter continues to look wary. “You were there with that knockout—whatshername…Izzy? Annabelle?”

“Isabel?” Sutter supplies, expression slowly morphing from wary to uncomfortable. The expression of someone worried he’s about to be caught out for not remembering a name.

“Right! Yes, her—damn, she was a looker.”

“Yeah…sorry, but I don’t really remember you,” Sutter says, expression clearing, and adopting an apologetic grimace. “But there were a lot of hands to shake that night, so...”

“Don’t I know it,” Jason agrees. “I left with about six new clients that night. Pretty good for a charity event, eh?” He doesn’t give Sutter a chance to reply. “So, you still with her?”

“What?”

“Isabel—hot blond? Legs up to here?”

Sutter’s tone becomes clipped again. “No.”

Jason gives an exaggerated whistle. “Damn shame…damn shame. You two looked like you were having fun.”

“Yeah, well…” Sutter gives a tight smile, eyes flicking away like he’s looking for an exit. “Things don’t always work out.”

“You know if she’s still single now?” Jason prompts, laying on the smarm. “Think you could set us up?”

“I think you’re the last person she wants anything to do with right now,” Sutter replies coolly. “Now, if you excuse me—”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Don’t think she’d be into me? Everyone wants a piece of this.”

“Hope you like kids then,” the man mutters as he edges away.

Jason affects a wide-eyed gaze. “She’s got kids? Damn, she doesn’t look the type.”

He makes it sound like some kind of disease, earning a snort of agreement from Sutter, who says, “I thought so too.”

There’s a trace of bitterness there, one Jason recognizes intimately. He had foster parents that looked and sounded the same. Still, he presses on, pretending to be clueless at the cues the other man is trying to give him to end the conversation.

“Not a fan of the rugrats?”

“Not especially,” Sutter replies tightly. “And raising someone else’s kid? When you work the hours I do? I’ve got a career, my company’s got me flying from the East Coast to the West Coast every couple of weeks, my family’s already complicated—it’d be hard enough raising my own kid, let alone someone else’s.” He looks up as the blond from earlier appears, with some overpriced wafer crackers. “Anyway, nice catching up with you. See you around, I guess.”

He practically takes off at a run.

“Yeah, take it easy,” Jason replies dully. In three sentences, he’s learned everything he needed to know about the guy’s fitness as a parent.

This guy’s a hard ‘no’ then.

Jason leaves the store, mood dark. He takes a few hours to wander around Crime Alley and soak up the comings and goings without anyone recognizing him, before turning to Tim’s apartment via the underground entrance.

“Looks like it didn’t go too well,” Tim says when he sees him. He’s in the process of changing Luisa, who is making noises of disapproval. She doesn’t like to be wet, but she also doesn’t like being cold, so getting changed appears to be her least favorite part of the day.  

“He doesn’t want to be involved,” Jason says, not wanting to go into detail. “Which is what we figured would be the case.”

“Well, now you know for sure.”

“All I’m sure about is people suck.”

“So what’s the next step?”

“I’ve got a list of Isabel’s friends to contact. If they seem legit, I’ll see about figurin' out if they want to step up in honor of Isabel’s memory.”

He makes a face at that, knowing how it sounds, but being unable to think up any other alternative.

“I could come along,” Tim offers.

“No,” Jason says immediately. “People see you and they see dollar signs. Either for sellin' the story to the press or pretendin' their decent because they’ll think the kid means you bankrollin' them for the next eighteen years.”

“Point,” Tim says, and there’s a clench of his jaw that makes Jason think that scenario resonated with him personally for some reason. “I still don’t think you should go alone. You need someone along to soften your image, so you don’t come off as a creep.”

“I can be soft if I want to be,” Jason protests, offended.

“I have…no idea how to respond to that that won’t sound like Dick,” Tim tells him. “So I won’t.”

“Magnanimous of you."

“Here’s an idea—call Safiya. Ask if she’ll come with. She might even have met some of these people before.”

“Good point.” Jason makes a mental note to call her later, and wanders into the kitchen.

Noticing that other than the various plastic bottles and hastily closed formula containers there's no sign of plates or take-out, Jason determines Tim probably hasn’t made anything for dinner or even just for himself.

Assuming he even knows how to cook.

He opens the door to the fridge, and just stands there for a long moment, before shaking his head and closing it again when nothing immediately appeals to him.

Jason’s not entirely sure what he wants right now, his stomach growling in complaint for food having to compete with a pervading nausea at the idea of a heavy meal. He ends up cutting up a plate of fruit to tide him over until he can make a decision and wanders over to the space in the living room where Tim is working. Safiya is now nowhere in sight, but the baby monitor is on, the green lights lighting up and fading in tandem with distant sound of breathing.

“She actually let me put her down,” Tim explains when he notices where Jason’s looking.

“You’re the favorite,” Jason retorts, not sure why the idea doesn’t sit well with him. He supposes it’s left over from years of seeing Tim as the replacement everyone preferred to him. Rather than get trapped in that dark line of thinking, he offers the younger man his plate. “Any luck tracking down Luisa’s family?”

Tim absently accepts a few wedges of apple. “Yes and no.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Jason asks, throwing himself onto the couch. There’s a groan under his weight, which earns a pissy look from Tim, but the latter doesn’t address it.

“Isabel never told you much about her extended family, right?”

“Beyond the fact that they exist somewhere, not really. We didn’t really talk families, for obvious reasons.”

“Right.”

“She said she and her parents left Bogota before she was two, and if she met anyone before then she can’t remember.”

“Well, it turns out there’s a reason for that,” Tim says and slides his tablet over to Jason. When he picks it up, it takes a minute for his eyes to register the information Tim’s hunted up. “Her parents were fleeing Columbia to get away from them. It seems the Ardila family is in deep with the Medellin cartel there.”

“No shit,” Jason says, eyes wide.

This may actually explain Isabel’s lack of panicking in the face of aliens and mobsters…

“Isabel’s parents sought asylum in the US and eventually qualified for citizenship.”

“How’d they manage that if they were from a crime family?”

“My guess? Being good at bending the truth and having excellent forged documents.”

“Either way, that’s another option off the table,” Jason sighs, letting his head fall back on the couch in exasperation.

Tim hums in agreement and for a few moments, they simply sit in silence against the sense of defeat.

It’s not until the baby monitor suddenly gives a sudden series of noise—bursts of what at first sounds like static, but they then realize are tiny sneezes—that either of them moves again.

“I should check her,” Tim says, but Jason holds up a hand to stop him.

They listen a few moments longer, hear a bit of grumbling across the monitor, and then there’s only the sound of breathing.

“If you’re going to go running every time she sneezes or coughs, you’re going to give her a complex,” Jason informs him.

Tim raises an eyebrow. “Says the guy who was worried she had yellow fever.”

“I wasn’t worried, I was…concerned.”

“Now you sound like Bruce.”

“Take that back, Replacement.”

They glare at each other, but there’s little heat in it. At last, Tim rolls his eyes and looks away.

“On a somewhat related note—” Tim reaches for a file folder and takes out a piece of paper with a table on it, which Jason immediately recognizes as a schedule. Various duties have been written into the cells—feeding, changing, future bath times.

“You actually made one,” Jason says, somewhat disbelieving.

“Of course I made one. This last week, we’ve just been reacting to everything. We can’t keep going like that, and I don’t know about you, but I’m getting tired of the petty arguments about who does what.”

“Petty,” Jason repeats tonelessly.

“Petty,” Tim agrees. “As you can see here, these are the times when we might consider calling for outside help. I checked with Safiya about what days she’s conditionally available, and even Tam—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa—Tam agreed?”

“Well, she agreed for emergencies,” Tim allows. “Like, if it’s raining Joker toxin from the sky kind of emergencies.”

Jason scowls. “Don’t tempt fate with that shit.”

“You know what I mean. If there’s something big going on, she said she’ll cover for us. Since it’s all temporary, and all.”

“Right…” Jason agrees faintly, staring at the blinking lights of the baby monitor. “Temporary…”

The rest of what Tim's saying fades to background noise, as his thoughts are overwhelmed with a sudden worry:

What if we don't find anyone worth taking her?

⁂⁂⁂

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[theforeverbattles]

Shadow AU

Will be 18+ but for now you babies are safe.

“I do not need a bodyguard.”

“This has been the fourth attempt on your life this month, and the ten in the past year. Despite you being capable of protecting yourself these precautions are being put into effect.”

Damian Al Ghul stands in defiance against both his mother and grandfather, his teeth gritting together. “Some third party guard isn’t going to stop them. We need to find the source of these attacks, that should be the priority.”

“This isn’t up for debate Damian, we merely are giving you the courtesy of telling you before a shadow begins to follow you.” Talia, his mother stares him down, her expression showing almost no emotion.

The heir clenches his fists in frustration, “this is unnecessary in all aspects. Neither of you have guards and attempts have been made for your lives as well. I can handle myself.”

Ra’s Al Ghul clears his throat, “you are the heir to this empire. Your life is the most important, again this is not up for discussion this is a warning. Now, leave me be, I have business to attend to.” He turns swiftly on his heel and walks away down the long hall.

Damian looks to his mother to find she too is leaving the space, allowing him to now stew in his thoughts.

A body guard is the last thing he needs. How can’t they see that?

What should be happening in a hunt for whatever imbecile that is selling information. However nobody seems concerned about that.

*

Damian stares blankly at the portal opening before them, his arms tucked behind himself. His face is a mask, hiding his true irritation.

A massive figure emerges first, red skin and horns, white hair. The second set of eyes is what catches Damian, surprised by the piercing gaze. He makes sure to keep himself completely composed as Lord Trigon makes his entrance. His grandfather moving to shake hands.

Damian propels himself forward, knowing he should as well.

The demon king stares down into his soul it feels, his skin like coals searing against his own. Words are spoken but he only partly hears them, they aren’t directed towards him.

“Damian.” When his name is spoken he looks up, “yes?”

“Your guard will be one of my own children, they are a shadow.” Trigon steps to the side and another figure comes from the portal. They’re small, covered from head to toe in black, the only skin showing around their eyes.

Despite the small stature Damian can’t actually tell if they are female or male. Can’t see their build or muscle structure. They are just as Trigon said, a shadow. A figure not to be seen ever.

“What is your name?” He asks but the demon lord holds his hand up.

“They do not have a name, none of my children do, they are there as a shield and that is all. If you must call them anything this one is Rae.”

Damian nods, his grandfather continues to speak with Trigon leading him from the room toward the dining area. Most likely to get drinks. He stares at the figure that is now his personal guard, they are silent.

“I do not need protection nor do I want it. It will be best for both of us if you just stay away from me. Your presence here is a waste.” He snaps.

Without another thought he turns and walks away, waiting for the figure's footsteps to follow him. When he doesn’t hear them he’s shocked. Peeking back he finds Rae is gone, as if they hadn’t even been there.

He turns around fully, confused as to where they went so quickly.

However he’s quickly greeted with Rae in his space, their violet eyes close to his. But only for a moment.

“How did you…” he whispers, thrown off for a second, “do not do that.” He then growls, turning to the figure with anger in his eyes.

They back up and bow slightly, hand going into the robes their in. They then produce a scroll of paper, Damian snatches it from their grasp.

‘My duty is to serve.

My master has been assigned as Ra’s Al Ghul.

My service is to protect Damian Al Ghul.

This contact can not be broken, if so death shall befall the servant.’

“Do you think I care if you die?” Damian narrows his eyes, “I can protect myself.” He throws the scroll down and storms off.

Albeit in a toddler fashion.

Damian is a proud man, he’s nearly twenty now, he does not need the help of some servant. All of the attempts on his life he has fought off, he has protected himself and he will continue doing so.

His main thought now is to find the traitor or traitors amongst the members of the league. He’s set on discovering them and ending them. His family is being made a mockery become of it.

*

A few days pass and Damian isn’t able to shake the shadow that has been following him non stop. They are silent always, footsteps not even audible.

He currently is in his room, studying through countless books and reports he’s gathered.

Damian is sure the guard is with him, somewhere within his space. He has started to adapt to their aura always around already, and he hates it. He has that subconsciously he has accepted this, it feels like a punishment.

He leans back and reads over a file, tablet in hand, normally this kind of tech isn't authorized within the sanctions walls. But he has pulled strings in order to get what he needs.

So far he’s come up with nothing, however is feeding their secrets to an outside source is hidden. And hidden well at that. They haven’t caused any alarm or suspicion.

While reading he sees the shadows shift and realizes that they’re here. His watchdog.

“Come out.” His voice is stern.

Slowly they creep from the darkest corner of the room, head bowed down as usual. “I told you to leave me alone, these are my private quarters.” He snaps angrily.

They don’t say a word, “do you speak? Are you incapable of basic conversation?”

Again silence.

“Get out, I will not tell you again.” Damian growls, ready to pounce on the figure. Entirely fed up with being constantly watched.

The shadow backs up and ends up out of his room, in frustration he throws back where it had previously been standing. Anger coursing through his veins.

In order to curb the fury he gets out of bed and grabs his sword and cloak. It only being dusk, he just needs to leave for a bit.

Damian goes to the stables to his horse and in mere moments is out of the sanctuary and down the dirt roads. Small villages litter the area, all poor, all suffering.

Silently he gets off his horse and walks into one of the small pubs, needing a drink without the prying eyes of his grandfather and mother to see.

He takes in the surrounding villagers and keeps his head down, knowing he sticks out like a sore thumb.

Surprisingly Damian doesn’t feel the lingering of his guard. He can’t sense their aura and certainly didn’t see them follow him. Maybe finally they got the message to fuck off.

The other patrons stare into their mugs, despair on their features. That and something else. He can’t pinpoint what though. It could be just because he is there, it’s no secret the villages around the compound hate them.

Damian supposes they have every right to, given they bring death. But that being said, the compound was there first, they have every right to be there.

He orders his drink and downs most of the contents, not wanting to seem like a mop at the bar after all. And he certainly does not want the towns working girls to approach him, he would be, embarrassed to say the least.

Trained to kill yes.

Trained in emotions no.

Once finished with his drink he leaves in a rush, money on the bar top. Outside he stops in the doorway, eyes locked on his horse, or more so the individual petting his horse.

She wears all white, lace covering her arms, a tight bodice, the same delicate lace along that. Flaring out to a skirt, just barely touching the ground. He swallows not prepared for the woman in the slightest, slowly he approaches.

“Excuse me.”

“Oh, I'm Sorry, does she belong to you?” The woman turns, revealing a face created from gods and goddesses. Her lips a pretty heart shape, cheekbones high, but her face a little hollow. He feels a blush creep up his neck and instantly feels shame.

He should not have this kind of reaction.

“Yes...It’s unwise to touch things that aren’t your property.” Damian clears his throat, trying to regain his composure. He can’t for the life of him keep his eyes off her though. She has violet colored hair that seems like an impossible feature, the small waves landing to the middle of her back.

“Are you going to punish me for petting your horse? That’s a bit cruel, wouldn’t you think?” Her voice sends shivers down his spine in a way he didn’t think possible.

“I didn’t say that.”

The girl smiles and turns to face him completely, “you don’t seem to be from around here. This looks far too expensive.” She takes a step and gestures to his armor.

“I could say the same for you.”

“Well that’s because i'm not, from around here that is.” Her dress shifts slightly and he sees dark marks on her chest. Lines swirling along her collarbone and down under the lace of her arms.

“I can tell. What is your business here?”

“What’s yours?” She counters with an almost devilish smirk. Damian moves now, approaching his horse, moving past her. He needs her out of his field of vision so he can concentrate.

“I asked you first.” He turns and catches her wrist before she can touch his armor.

Her face doesn’t change in the slightest, “I’m passing through if you must know. I’m on, a business trip.” She smiles now and pulls her arm from his grasp, “and if I was to guess, you’re from the secret society of assassins in the mountains right?”

He keeps his face a mask, “you’re playing a dangerous game little bird.”

“Little bird? Moving to pet names already?” Her eyes light up in a way that makes Damian feel weak. She leans up and grabs his armor, tugging him down before he can say a word.

Their lips crash together and the world practically stops for the assassin. Never in his life would he do this.

But here he is.

Not only kissing a complete stranger but grasping into her like a dog in heat.

Where did his control go? His will?

She tugs on his hair softly and he nearly melts, as soon as it happens however it’s over. Her lips gone from his, her entire body removed, he stands in shock, mind, body everything short circuiting.

“Thanks for the ride pretty boy. No hard feelings right?” She winks and kicks off.

His horse galloping away, “hey!” He shrieks getting his sword out. Only to stop, what is he going to do? Slaughter them both right here? Bad idea.

Instead his shoulders sag. This is why he doesn’t associate with others.

*

After walking back to the compound in minor defeat he goes to the stables, knowing his horse won’t be there. But it wouldn’t hurt to look, and also possibly hide the fact they’re now missing an animal.

He can still feel her lips on his, and smell the faint vanilla and sage scent of her hair. Shaking his head he opens the stable up and nearly drops dead.

Standing, where he got her from is Stila, his black mere. Looking at him as if she hadn’t been horse napped only hours before.

Damian approaches her slowly, looking around the fit wench that took her. His sword at the ready and ears trained for the slightest sound of movement.

Nothing however happens, not a single speck of dust stirs.

“How did you…?” He murmurs to himself walking up to her, his fingers brushing along her coat.

The realization hits him suddenly, she knows how to get in the compound. Know who he is. She could be a threat, could be someone sent for him.

“Rae!” He calls quickly. In seconds the shadow appears, head bowed as usual.

“Have you been with me the entire time?” He snaps, realizing now that if they had they didn’t stop him from being robbed. Which is their job.

They nod yes, “you allowed me to lose my horse.” Damian narrows his eyes, is he throwing a fit? Yes yes he is. Sometimes it’s inevitable with how bottled up he’s forced to keep himself.

“Search the ground for the girl in white, she was able to get in without any of us knowing.” The shadow nods again but doesn’t move.

“Now!”

They stay still, shifting only slightly, their hand comes from the black robes, holding a crisp envelope.

Damian snatches it from his guards grasp, angry with himself. Pissed that he let himself get distracted. By a girl no less.

The envelope reads in pretty handwriting, ‘Pretty Boy’.

“Where did you get this?”

The figure just backs up, making Damian even more irritated. He rips it open and reads the letter inside.

‘Your shadow friend is quite quick on their feet. While you mopped they stopped me, a shame. I’m writing this letter in thanks. Mainly to your guard of darkness for allowing me to live, but also to you. You’re not as legendary as they say Damian Al Ghul, but I won’t tell. We all have our off days. I’ll consider myself lucky I wasn’t killed on the spot, that being said you should consider yourself just as lucky. It’s unwise to go around kissing witches.

I hope to see you again someday pretty boy, I think we’d get along.

-Little Bird’

*

[chromium7sky]

Damirae week day 2: fake relationship | I'm a sucker (for you)

"You suck, like seriously. "

Jason told Damian as soon as Damian explain the situation that become tangible. Oh how he did wish to turn back time and said NO but... This time,  he said yes. Especially to a girl who seems to come out of nowhere.

But seriously,  he involved in deep shit and know it seems all the media and reporter are trying to smell some scandal from the Wayne Family, especially from him,  the blood son of Bruce Wayne.

"That all you have to say? " Damian raised his brow.

"Well, there's much more of that, Dimwit but I was wondering. Why her?  Just because she has an animal and to specific,  a bird name, you fall head over heels for her? " Jason smirked as he teased the young heir while smoking at the open window.

Damian,  annoyed as always, took the cigarette from Jason's hand and put out it by pressing the lit against the window panel. "Where did you get that stupendous theory?" he sneered at the white streak lad.

"Come on,  Damian. The Bat and co. knows it. Tim,  Barbara, Cass, not to mention Dick and Steph keep screaming when they see both of you together. " Jason shrugged idly with annoying face as he remember the noise Dick and Steph made during their 'Stake out' for the young man.

"It wasn't even a real date!" Damian exclaimed.

"Well by the look of your face at that time, you seems enjoy it. " the red hood huffed as he show the picture where taken.

"You... Dare! " Damian were about to snatched but with Jason quick reflexes he quickly store in his jacket inner pocket.

"So tell me, little D. What is it? "

"It has nothing to do with you. " Damian grumbled as he sending death glare to Jason which the older brother seems to immune with it.

"Yes it does because I would really like to meet a girl who could make a brat fall head over heels for her. " Jason smirked and what he's really impressed is this haughty assassin prince seems to act gentlemen towards her like it was almost natural.

"So,  care to talk? " Jason played the good cop.

Damian sneered at him and lost in the end. "Fine. We talk at the balcony." as he quickly paced towards the area followed by Jason Todd.

As Damian sit at the chair in the middle of the balcony, he put his hands together and close his eyes as he tried to retrieved some information store in big brain of his.

"It was about a criminal I was after, rather a peculiar one. His name is Eric Forrester. I've been trying to track him for months after serial incident happen at rural area nearby Jump city. " As Damian explained.

"And? " Jason with his armed crossed as he listen his story.

"I've found the exact same pattern case nearby. Until.. "

"Until you met Raven? "

Damian silence for a while as the flashback playing on his mind like it was happen yesterday.

####flash back####

"Help me! "

"What?! " Damian were kinda busy at time when a girl suddenly appear as he walked down the street with coffee and bagel on his hands.

"Something happening to my roommate. " The girl mumbled and shivers. She pull his arm and ran towards a flight of stairs and God knows, the girl is really terrified.

As soon as they reached her apartment,  the door were wide open. Damian pulled the girl's wrist behind him incase something bad happen. As they slowly pacing in, they saw the girl's roomates,  blonde with attractive build now facing down and with bluish color skin.

Both of them were horrid and Damian quickly call 911.

*********

"I'm sorry about your friend. " said Damian as he stood besides the girl who is now, hand shaking while holding a cup of tea and space out.

After the interrogation session it seems that the dead girl were died but unnaturally. There's no trauma or force that apply on the corpse.

"Caroline...she has a bright future.  But why... " she cried as she used her sleeves wiping her tears.

"What happen actually?" as the young man sip his coffee, to warm his body in this cold weather.

"I was just gone back from art exhibition party at my college and as soon as I reached my floor. The door were wide open!  I thought,  it was burglary!! But nothing was taken,  and I found my roommate lying on the living room." as the scene still freshly painted in her mind.

Damian sighed as he sip down the black coffee. Well,  he tried to bite down his curiousity,  questioning her alibi and finding evidence because this, this is exactly the same case happen at the Jump city where the woman found dead unexplained in their home.

"I was hoping if you know more about what happen, i mean,  is there anyone your roommate met recently like colleague,  friends?" Damian stared at the blue haired girl.

She took a couple of sip and as if something came up on her mind. "Well,  there is someone she's kinda close in her workplace. I think that was her boss. " the girl rubbing her chin as she refreshed her memories.

"I did  stumbled some flower gift outside of our apartment. " she paused. "and its say from a guy name Forrester. I bet that's his name. "

Damian jolted as soon as he heard the named quickly turn to her. "Forrester?"

"Yeah. Probably a well-known playboy somewhere. His name kind of familiar. " she mumbled.

Damian has found his lead for the case. Quickly he finished his coffee and throw the cup into the paper recycle bin.

"Well,  I hope after this you need to move away from the apartment. I think you might in danger. " Damian turn to her as he advice her.

"I can't. This is the only apartment i could afford. " she cluthes her cup.

"Still,  your life is on the line,  miss." as his stared at her.

"I know. I'll just becareful. " she sighed and throw her empty cup to the recycle bin. "Anyway,  thank you for helping me. " she give out her faint smile.

"By the way,  I'm sorry to be rude for not introducing myself. I'm Damian. " as he held out his hand towards her.

"Raven Roth.  But you can call me Rav-" as she grab his hand she jolted and so as Damian. It was like a surge flowing between them.

What he sees in his mind is something sinister,  a clue,  ANOTHER murder. Quickly he pull of the hands and both of them gasping for air.

"What the hell was THAT?! " he spit out. What he felt is new and mystical, also prophetic.

"You,  felt it too? " her indigo eyes went large as if it was new to her.

"What do you mean you felt it too? " As Damian furrowed his eyebrows wanting some explanation about what happen.

"I--"

"Who the hell are you? " Damian start to feel hostile. His suspicious grew towards this girl name Raven.

"Please do understand me. I didn't cause any harm to anyone." Raven kept her cool face as she held both of her hands as the sign to pacify the current situation.

"I've seen horrible image in mind. Are you -" before he finished his sentence Raven snapped out as she knew what he going to say.

"I'm not what you think it IS! "

Both of them took time to breath in and out calming down themselves.

"What? " Damian still puzzled.

"I had a forecast about what happen to Caroline and rush towards the apartment. " her shaky hands at her sides. "I fail to save her. " again her tears rolled down.

Damian sees her vulnerable and somehow it reminds of him when he tried to save the children from Dr. Pyg in his old case. It's frustrating and guilt.

"Why didn't you tell to the police about that? " he was curious with her ability, this forecast thing.

Raven scoffed as she heard that. "They probably put me in asylum,  Mr. Damian."

"Just call me Damian."

"Damian... " as she corrected her last sentence. "But you saw what I saw just now..." her lips formed a solemn smile. "Its more than enough to prove that I'm not crazy. "

Damian silence as he heard her.

###flash back ends###

"Wait,  wait!"

Damian sneered at Jason.

"I haven't finish yet,  Todd. " Damian grind his teeth in annoyance.

"So,  both of you had the Zap thing and you guys dating each other because of that?! " as Jason try to understand the chronological of the event.

" We are not even dating! Its just a cover!  For her!" Damian sighed as he ruffled his hair.

"You're saying she's not your type? "

"Bullshit!  It was for her safety.  There's a maniac keep harrasing her in the college!"

"So you do like her! "

Damian just can't get with Jason who always on his nerve.

"By the way,  how about the maniac that makes THIS happen? "

"Already take care of it. " Damian crossed his arm.

"You kill him? "

"No. "

"Send him to authority? "

"Worse. "

"A 20 years sentences? "

"I ensured it. "

Jason pursed his lip in approval and nod slightly as he heard it. Don't mess with little D's girl.

A standard ringtone  breaking the silent atmosphere and Damian quickly pull out his phone. He glanced at the scene and answer the phone.

" Any new Forecast?"

Oh, that question made Jason grew excited! Damian were talking to HER! Quickly on his impulse he grab the phone from his little brother.

Damian wanted to protest but Jason quickly put his hand on the angry boy's mouth as he speak to the mysterious girl on the phone.

"Hey,  Raven right? "

At first there's silence but then she saying yeah to confirm her identity.

"Well, this weekend Damian is kinda having dinner at his house, Don't you mind joining in? " Jason casually invited her through the phone. Damian's 'What? ' at the background can be heard the moment Jason said dinner at their house.

"Uh,  I don't know. Who am I speaking to?"

"His Father. " Jason lied. He could hear she gasp on the speaker.

"Sorry to disturb you discussion between you and your son,  Mr..."

"Mr.  Wayne. "

"Mr. Wayne?"

"Yes. " Jason heard the conversation been cut off in a sudden. Jason then seen the screen shows call ended. "She hang up?"

"What did you do?! " Damian quickly snatch his phone back and saw the screen. Then he set his infamous death glare at Todd. "You scared her!! "

Jason amused with his reaction, the spawn of satan really like this girl.

The phone ring again, quickly Damian answer it. "Look, I can explain." Todd quickly at the other side trying to eavesdrop on the conversation.

"Sorry to make you worry,  i was shocked that I dropped my phone. Did I annoyed your father for sudden hang up? " Raven's voice faintly heard.

"That fine.  He just need to go somewhere minding his own business. " Damian sneered at Jason then gesturing his hand to buzz off. "Anyway,  about the Forecast,  i got one about 1 hour earlier. And I could make out the name of the place,  Jackal's Sanctuary."

Damian pull out a pen and write on his palm Jackal's Sanctuary name. "Great. We'll met there within one hour. "

"On it! " Both Raven and Todd answer it. Damian then looked at Todd who has walked toward the door while holding the his phone. He sneered deducing that his brother is up to something.

"Damian,  is your father still there? "

"No...no. He went somewhere else. "  as Damian continue to glare at Jason who has gone inside.

Meanwhile,  Jason text on his phone about Damian meeting the girl at Jackal's Sanctuary on a group chat call The soaring Birds that has Dick, Babs, Steph, Cass, Timbo as active member. Duke tries to stay out of it but of course, Dick won't let any Bat and Co. left behind and sometimes Duke follow their investigation about the girl who Damian said having "fake relationship".

The picture of the group made Jason cringe sometimes. It was a picture of Damian and Raven capture from a far,  with motto written in cursive neon coloured "Make it come true."

[nxrthmizu]

| the detective and the blue-eyed fox | ch.4

»»——⍟——««

title | denial will be your downfall 

prompt | detective and criminal AU (Oh my god how did I go from that prompt to this) 

pairing | Damian Wayne x Marinette Dupain-Cheng 

words | 1.9k 

author’s note | I enjoyed writing this so much! :3 ppl out there on ao3 being like ‘omg I can’t wait to see what happens’ and I’m here like ‘yeah I can’t wait to see what happens too I haven’t figured it out yet’ 

 »»——⍟——««

| beginning | previous part | ao3 | 

»»——⍟——««

What, exactly, had Marinette been expecting, you ask? 

Anything except Damian Wayne somehow uncovering her alter-ego (Both of them, might she add) and acquiring the miraculous of the black cat under two days. She had to admit, she knew he was something- That's why she recruited his help in her desperate search for Chat Noir's former miraculous- But in under two days? That was just appalling. 

And if you had told Damian Wayne three months ago that he would, three months later, be sitting in his apartment across his coworker, who had been moonlighting as Gotham’s newest vigilante, Lan, and also happened to be Paris’s former superhero who fought villains induced by butterflies (Of all things), accompanied by two practically-god creatures that were the size of flying mice, he would’ve called the mental hospital. Not to mention that they were discussing the murder of her former partner slash newly appointed CEO of Agreste Enterprises. Throw in the fact that the murderer happened to be a musician who probably had a crush on her civilian identity and wanted to use magic jewellery to bring back his crush’s parents, and the whole thing just sounded like a fifth-grader’s vivid imagination. 

He had considered admitting himself into the mental hospital, but at that point he was way too invested in the ‘case’. 

“Luka?” Denial was a clear ring in her voice, disbelief a close second in volume. 

For weeks, the one thing she wanted to know was the name of her partner’s killer, and now that she knew it, she wanted to give it back. Luka, sweet, kind-hearted, generous Luka- A murderer? 

Plagg nodded grimly in confirmation. 

“I don’t believe this.” Marinette shook her head defiantly, refusing to believe the truth that the god of destruction laid out for her. “He would never...” 

“We literally have an eye witness.” Deadpanned Damian, straight-forward as ever. The bluenette sucked in a breath, lowering her head to avoid her coworker spotting the tears that pricked her eyelids like ice needles. Everything hurt- She had lost her parents in a final battle to win Paris its’ normality back, then she lost her partner, and now she was faced with the truth that the one man she thought she could trust- Was a killer. 

The detective’s eyes softened. “I know it’s hard to take in, and I know I shouldn’t ask you for this- Especially after everything you’ve sacrificed- But Couffaine probably isn’t the same person you knew anymore. You need to stop seeing him as your friend, and hard as it is- You need to start looking at him as the man who killed your partner- And wants to kill you. If you keep going like this, denial will be your downfall.” 

A droplet of blood formed on the bluenette’s lip as she bit down hard to hold in her pain, her agony, her tears. How much longer did she have to suffer? How much longer did she have to be brave? How much longer did she have to endure what the world threw at her? 

“... You know, you can cry if you want. I can’t say I understand, but being in your position now must be pretty hard. You’ll only hurt yourself if you keep everything inside.” 

Damian had seen victims. Too many. He knew and saw first-hand the overwhelming emotions that could surge over one, the unstoppable tsunami of feelings that could wipe out the legs you thought were strong enough to hold you, the wave that could destroy everything and leave you with a broken wasteland as it receded. 

He knew the harm of pent-up emotions. Pent-up emotions were like a jar filled with explosive gas, waiting for the slightest spark to trigger an explosion. And when it did explode, you would find shards of glass digging in to your skin, digging into the skins of the ones around you. He knew the harm of pent-up emotions, because he had felt it first-hand. Because as cold, as uncaring and blunt his exterior could be, Damian Wayne was a human, and he knew what it was like to hurt. 

“You don’t have to hold it in just because you want to hold an image of a strong person in front of me.” He continued. “No matter what happens from here on out, you’re already very strong to me. Emotionally and physically. You were thrust into the role of a superhero with no guidance, made to deal with all the pressure with no one to confide to due to the risks it made to the ones around you. You fought without pause ever since you were a teen, only to lose so much when everything was over. You tried to start again, only to be faced with more pain. The fact that you’re still standing, that you’re still doing something to fight back- That’s amazing in itself.” 

A dry, choked-out sob of a laugh startled him. “Of all people. I never expected that you to be the one that would understand.”

“Hmm.” Damian shrugged, leaning back into his chair with an air of looking unbothered. “I have a rather high standard for what I consider to be strong- Emotionally, anyway, and you just so happen to have been through enough to pass that standard.” 

She cracked a small smile at his feeble attempt to shrink back into his ‘I’m-cold-and-I-don’t-care’ shell. “Back to business- Since you’ve found the ring and the person behind this...” Luka’s name stung the tip of her tongue, and it was too soon and too painful to say- But much to her gratefulness, Damian didn’t bring up her avoidance of his name. “I better contribute by telling you I think I know where he’ll be.”

The green-eyed detective perked up instantly, moving from his relaxed position to one that was leaning forward, eyes wide in curiosity. 

“I don’t where he is now, per say, but I know where he’ll be.” She continued with a smile. “Have you ever wanted to visit the City of Love?” 

»»——⍟——««

What was formerly the City of Love was now a mourning city, shrouded in rain clouds and misery. The murder of Adrien Agreste tightened like a noose, gradually strangling and suffocating the city below. Rain pattered onto Paris’s black cobblestone roads, the streets empty with the exception of one or two pedestrians, walking as quickly as they could to avoid being alone with the deafening silence of post-war Paris. 

The silence was accented by the steady splash of rainwater as a lone figure walked slowly down the street, a black hood shielding his face. Turquoise eyes gleamed as the man approached the house of the woman expecting him, raising his hand to press the doorbell once. 

“Luka.” 

Chloe Bourgeois stood in the doorway of her apartment, eyeing the drenched man with a purse of her lips. “You are not stepping into my apartment like that. If you get a single splotch of mud on my carpet...” She glowered at him, unsatisfied until he grumbled, removing his cloak and muddy boots. 

The deceased mayor’s daughter scrunched her nose in disgust, handing the man a towel to dry off with. 

“Wipe your feet on the towel until they’re clean. Don’t step all over my house with those dirty feet of yours.” Chloe scoffed, leaving him in the entrance of her apartment while she strolled back inside, her golden silk robe fluttering behind her movements. 

“Any progress?” Luka asked gruffly, looking as uncomfortable as he could be, seated on the pearl-white couch inside the blonde’s luxurious apartment. The mayor had left his daughter quite the fortune. 

Clicking her tongue in annoyance, Chloe rolled her eyes, taking a sip of her tea. “Luka, my answer will be the same as the one I gave you yesterday.” 

The man resisted the urge to slam his hands on the glass coffee table in frustration. “You’ve been searching for Ladybug for weeks. What is taking you so long?” 

“Excuse me.” Chloe cleared her throat, looking rather offended. “If I’m not mistaken, you had three months ever since Ladybug left, and you didn’t find anything, either. I don’t think you’re in the position to criticise my progress.” 

He shot a glare in her direction, displeased with her jab at his failed attempts to locate the holder of the Ladybug miraculous. “Find her,” He hissed, standing up abruptly. The blonde wasn’t fazed at all, taking another sip out of her tea with a bored expression. “Find her if you want to bring your father and butler back.” 

The heavy footfalls belonging to the impatient man made Chloe scoff, the loud slam of her front door causing an angry ‘Hey! Watch it!’ from the blonde. She sighed softly, reminiscing of the days when things weren’t so complicated and everything was alright. Across her living room sat two framed pictures, sitting next to each other serenely. 

The first was a photo of herself, Mayor Bourgeois, and the butler, Jean, the three of them standing in front of Le Grand Paris, in all of its’ golden glory. The second was a photo of 5-year-old Chloe, smiling toothily with her arm slung around another blonde- Adrien Agreste, with his soft green eyes and his shy smile. 

“I won’t let you be forgotten.” She whispered to no one in particular, still staring at the two framed pictures. “That’s a promise.” 

»»——⍟——««

Meanwhile, in the dreary corridor leading to Paris’s highest-security-prison, was a displeased woman, glaring daggers at the guards who were denying her entry. 

“You morons.” She hissed, her French slanting off with a clear American accent that resounded even clearly in her anger. “For the last time, I’ve told you, I work for the FBI, and I need to talk to him.” 

“Ma’am, we’ve received no sort of alert that an agent was coming to visit.” The guard defended, baring her from highest-security-cell in the whole building. There had been at least five other gates before the one she was at, and at everyone of them she had been throughly questioned and checked for anything that could result in an outbreak of disaster. 

A dry laugh echoed off the grey cement walls of the holding. “Well, then you go ahead and tell my superiors that I’ve come here for nothing and that they have to pay for a second flight.” The woman smiled when sparks of fear alighted inside the two guards’ eyes- She had come so far, and she wasn’t going to let two measly guards stop her when she was just one wall away from her target. 

“I... Alright miss. You should know the rules, don’t get too close to him.” One of the guards said reluctantly, sharing hesitating looks with his partner, but they opened the heavy metal door for her nonetheless. The woman, dressed in a black blazer, a white blouse, and a dark-coloured pencil skirt, nodded her appreciation, heels clicking as she stepped into the holding. 

A two-inch thick glass separated her and the grey-haired man, who looked up in surprise, eyes flashing in recognition of his visitor. 

“Mr. Agreste.” She addressed politely, dark red hair tied up in a formal bun. 

The man that was formerly Hawkmoth glanced at her up and down, and then at the closed metal door. “I have to say, I’m impressed you managed to get in here.” A low laugh rumbled from his throat, cracking out of the speaker by the side of the glass wall that allowed the man to communicate. 

She smiled at his compliment. 

“It’s been a while, Lila Rossi.” 

»»——⍟——««

taglist. @demonicbusiness @animegirlweeb @roselynfey @2confused-2doanything @insane-fangirl-of-everything @promiswords @galaxylightmoon @fusser90 @ira-sairain @liquid-luck-00 @glastwime859 

gen. daminette taglist. @maskedpainter @animegirlweeb @missmadwoman

*rubs hands together* I have soo many plot twists for this baby planned *cackles evilly* everything’s coming together... Also the story has strayed so far away from the original plot but eh whatever 

»»——⍟——««

| next part | ao3 | 

»»——⍟——««

[damijon-supersons]

“We’re friends, aren’t we?” - a Damijon fic

 Author’s Notes:  Hi guys! I hope you enjoy this somewhat angsty fic that suddenly popped into my mind one day. This also coincides with the DamiJon week 2018 makeup week, so I’m putting this under Day 4: Confessions...or rather...the lack thereof...

This is also my what if reaction to the various rumors that with Bendis coming over to write Superman, unsavory things might happen to our best boy...even the threat of him being scrapped...

Summary: Jon always asked Damian that one question whenever he wanted to ask for something. As the boys got closer, Damian’s answer kept changing...except he never managed to say the only answer that actually mattered.

Okay,  hope you have fun :D

“Hey, Damian, we’re friends, aren’t we?” Jon asked timidly. He turned to look at his best friend with his bright blue eyes, his lips trembled, and his face was almost that of a child that knew he was due for a scolding.

The question rang like a haunting echo in Damian’s mind. There was a mixture of hope, sadness, hesitation, and fear, all enveloped in a high-pitched boyish voice. There was a smile there, one that you could only hear. It was a shy smile that was piercingly honest and sincere.

“Why do you sound like you’re about to beg?” Damian groaned in reply.

It was simple questions like these that he could never answer simply. He could’ve said ‘yes’, because that was what his heart said. ‘Yes’ a thousand times over. But his heart was but an infant given a picture of its mother—it can only gurgle out affection because it hadn’t yet learned how to speak. His voice tried its best to sound tired, but there was that slight pause, the barest hint of preparation, that made it obvious the disinterest was a lie—just another wall that Damian had put up on instinct, and one of the many he’d yet to cast away in front of his closest friend.

“I’ve got a favor to ask…” Jon began. The favor was as simple as it was impractical. Jon had accidentally broken his parents’ curfew while super-heroing on his own. While this wasn’t that much of a big deal, this time it was because he’d broken it by about twelve hours.

“Long story,” Jon offered. “There was this tentacle guy, and I had to act like I was the engine and rudder of the refugees’ boat and my phone got wet, and that’s when the eagle man came…”

He wanted Damian to be with him as he faced his parents and explained, as a sort of moral support and witness to Jon’s sincerity. Jon had hoped that Damian’s presence would temper his extremely worried parents, and that they’d punish him a lot less. After all….Clark Kent and Lois Lane were too polite to utterly devastate their son in front of his friend, right?

Damian rolled his eyes. It was a stupid plan, and it was also pointless. He knew that his presence wouldn’t stop Superman from super-grounding his son, and an angry Lois was too dangerous for even Damian to handle. But he’d do it anyway. He’d never admit it, not even to himself, but he wanted to help Jon. Mostly because it made his head feel light, his mouth dry, and his spine all tingly to know that Jon needed his help—needed him.

That night, Damian went with Jon, and instead of being backup, argued with Clark that Jon went alone because of his advice, because he’d taught Jon to follow so and so lead and such. Clark thanked Damian for the explanation, judged both of them culpable, and both the boys’ dads had grounded them that night.

 ***

“Hey, Damian, we’re friends, aren’t we?” Jon asked excitedly. His hands were at his chest and balled into expectant fists as though grabbing onto an invisible lifeline, and his feet were hovering several inches above the floor, his legs folded as if he was getting ready to leap for joy.

The question hung like one half of a solemn vow. The silence after the words was a pregnant moment where every second was an answer unto itself. There was hope in the boy’s voice, pulsing, shining, and you could almost hear the vibrant colors in his face—shocking blue in his eyes and perfect white in his teeth.

“I mean, you’re practically the only person I talk to on a daily basis,” Damian replied as casually as he could. It still wasn’t the ‘yes’ that he’d meant to say, though his level of aloofness wasn’t as bad as before, and was really a force of habit more than anything else. Jon could tell—if it were anyone else, Damian would never be so comfortable with the way he talked, the way he walked, and the way he breathed as if he could worry about nothing at all. Damian flashed Jon a smirk as they walked out of the school grounds, and that was all the answer Jon needed.

“Hold on!” Jon said enthusiastically as he dragged Damian by the hand.

“H-hey!” Damian protested, but only half-heartedly, as both of them ran, their bags making dull thuds on their legs with every step. Jon’s fingers were firmly entwined with his own with no signs of letting go. Jon’s hand was warm, but it was a familiar, almost comforting sensation. Damian almost admitted to himself that he liked it.

Once they were suitably alone, Jon wrapped Damian in a hug.

“Wha—Jon!” Damian gasped, breathless and surprised. His instinct was to push off, act cold, react the way people knew he’d act. But he was frozen even as the younger boy’s warmth seeped into him, and his heart beat wildly and irregularly.

Of course, with his super-senses, Jon knew the effect he had on Damian. He allowed himself a satisfied grin. “Okay, now, really hold on.” He tightened his grip on Damian, one hand on his hip and the other supporting his back.

Before Damian could do anything other than gasp again, Jon kicked off the ground and zoomed skyward. The only evidence of their departure was a faint ring of displaced dirt that marked where they’d stood.

In a matter of minutes, the pair arrived in Hamilton County in the Kents’ old farm. Damian was quite familiar with this place, because he’d visited and slept over here with Jon more times than he could count. That, and Jon loved taking Damian here whenever they’d needed some relaxing place to talk and think.  

Jon set Damian down on the roots of his favorite oak tree, its old and gnarled roots bulging up from the soil like natural benches. Damian’s hair, which was usually pristinely spiked in his usual style, had transformed into a windswept mess that covered Damian’s forehead. He sullenly blew a mouthful of air at his bangs, but it just flopped uselessly back down and tickled his skin.

“Okay, take your coat off,” Jon said excitedly, still hovering a few inches off the ground.

“Why? What’s this all about?” Damian asked, thoroughly confused.

Jon threw his own school coat to the grass as he adamantly insisted, “C’mon, Dami!”

“Tt, fine…” Damian sighed as he did as he was ordered. Of course, the reluctance was just another reflex. He could never refuse Jon, especially when the boy’s face was so bright and earnest like it was right then.

“Okay, now take your shoes and socks off!” Jon directed as he did the same.

Damian didn’t bother to complain—he’d just do it either way. He tugged his leathers off and kicked them to the side, joined by Jon’s own shoes and socks.

“So, what exactly do you have planned that could possibly need us to be barefoot in the countryside, where all manner of dirt, insects, and pathogens can get lodged under our toenails?” Damian asked finally.

Jon stuck his tongue out as if to say ‘gotta deal with it, Damian!’ It was so utterly childish, and yet so perfectly aligned with who Jon was—a boisterous, giddy, happy boy—that Damian couldn’t help but shake his head and smile.

“You’ll love it, I promise!” Jon declared gleefully. “Now, be back in a sec!” He sped off to the distant horizon in a blur.

It actually took him six seconds.  When Jon returned, Damian’s eyes were locked onto the thing Jon held carefully in his arms. His pupils dilated and his mouth hung open in wonder and affection. Jon had brought the cutest calico kitten he’d ever seen, its coat a mixture of white, brown, black and olive. Its snout was a rosy pink hue, framed by long white whiskers. Damian instinctively reached out, but Jon playfully hovered out of his reach.

“Nya!” the kitten squeaked as it flailed its tiny little limbs under Jon’s grip.

“Kathy found it alone one day and decided to take it in,” Jon explained as he lightly scratched the kitten’s head, making it yawn adorably. “We can play with him whenever we’re here. I’m sure you’ll love him!”

Damian wordlessly got up and reached for the kitten again, but Jon hovered out of his reach again, obviously teasing from the looks of his mischievous grin. He landed gently on the ground, his bare feet trampling the grass with a faint rustling sound—it gave Damian the mental image of lush, green growth, a cool breeze, and cloudless skies. Incidentally, that described almost all of Hamilton County.

“Nu uh, Damian,” Jon mock scolded. “If you wanna pet Mister Cat, you gotta catch me first!”

And even before Damian could reply that ‘Mister Cat’ was an incredibly stupid name, Jon took off running, giggling all the way with Mister Cat raised above his head as if the kitten was training to fly.

Damian sprinted after Jon, and he was grateful the latter didn’t use his super speed. Despite his reservations, he couldn’t help but smile. He ran after Jon without a care in the world. He ran after the kitten. No, he ran after Jon. No, he was running for the heck of it. There was no one to catch, no one to fight. There wasn’t a villain to chase or a city to save. There was just the sun shining on the greenery and making it sparkle, the silky sensation of the green grass sliding in between his toes and tickling his soles, the cool refreshing breeze that ruffled his ruined hair, and Jon’s euphoric, almost melodic laughter. It was all so infectious that Damian started laughing too.

For once in his life, Damian felt a degree of freedom he’d never thought he’d ever wanted. Right then, he wasn’t Robin, and Jon wasn’t Superboy. They weren’t crimefighters—they weren’t heroes. They were just two boys running and playing across the green grassy plains of Hamilton County.

Was this what every day was like for Jon back then? Damian asked himself. Jon had once asked him if he ever wanted to just go outside and play. It seemed like such an absurd question back then, and Jon had asked it over the phone while Damian was in the middle of brawling with criminals. Playing was for children…and truth be told, Damian had never been a child, had never learned how to be one. And all at once he realized that this was the point of it all. Jon was teaching Damian how it is to be a child. It was pointless, it was irrational, but Damian didn’t care. He liked it.

Damian Wayne, by nature, does not indulge in frivolous endeavors such as aimlessly running across grassy plains. But then, Damian thought, he didn’t need to be that Damian Wayne all the time. At least whenever he was with Jon, he could smile like no one was watching, laugh like the world was deaf, and be someone else entirely—with Jon, he could be a child.

At some point, he’d caught up to Jon, and the two sweaty boys fell on top of each other on the ground. Their bodies were cushioned by the tall grass, and it was almost like they were lying in a bed of green leaves and soft earth. Mister Cat elected to skip after a flittering blue butterfly, and he was largely free to do as he pleased as the two boys stared into each other’s eyes.  Damian and Jon pulled each other close and shared emotions, moments, and experiences of such intimacy that it was quite fortunate the field was out of the way of any unwanted witnesses.

Mister Cat gave up on chasing the butterfly, and instead curled up underneath the pile of clothing that the boys had discarded as they continued their own silent playtime hidden among the tall green grass.

***

 “Hey, Damian, we’re friends, aren’t we?” Jon asked solemnly. There was a sad smile on his face, the kind that foreshadowed an inevitable future that promised nothing bright. His hands were still and lifeless on his lap, but his eyes were focused on Damian, studying his friend intently and anticipating the older boy’s reaction.

They were sitting at the edge of a random apartment building in Metropolis, their legs dangling over the precipice of a thirty-storey drop. The lights of the city’s nightlife glowed beneath them and cast a wan palette of whites and yellows to the sky’s deep indigo. The weekend traffic skittered as tiny balls of red, orange and beige. A cacophony of sound and noise thrummed in the atmosphere—a few blocks away, a mother was yelling at her son for not taking out the garbage, somewhere below were two cats arguing about whatever cats like to argue about, off in central street a digital billboard of Vicky Vale droned about the new perfume she’d been endorsing, and off in the distance, a passenger jet cut across the clouds with a booming roar.

Damian tensed up. His fists instinctively balled into fists, as if he expected a fight. He’d always react that way when he was anxious, when he sensed danger. His senses were rarely mistaken, and through Jon’s resigned look, a sense of foreboding came over him. They’d just finished their patrol for that night, and he couldn’t shake off the feeling that Jon was more subdued than usual. Jon liked to have fun during their patrols. Tonight, he was thoughtful. Oh, he still smiled, he still laughed, but there was a tinge of longing, of regret, a bittersweet joy. Jon very much acted like he was savoring every second as if he’d never get to do this again.

“You sound like you want that in writing,” Damian teased as a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Again, it wasn’t the overwhelming ‘yes’ that he’d have wanted to give, but simplicity never came easy for him. Making matters worse was that the ‘yes’ had mutated into something bigger, something more. No, they weren’t friends…not anymore. Not to Damian. They were definitely something greater, something better…something that Damian was at a loss to describe.

“Maybe I’d like that, for once,” Jon replied with a smirk.

Damian lightly punched his shoulder. Jon punched him back. They both grinned at each other—a grin that tried to say so much but lacked the words to make it tangible.

“So, I assume this is another favor that’s bound to get us both in trouble,” Damian began, but he knew in his heart that from Jon’s expression, it was a graver matter than that.

Jon shook his head. “No, but I guess you could call it a favor. I just…want you to promise that you’ll take care of yourself. And well…I hope you remember me.”

“What…?” Damian blinked in bewilderment at Jon.

“I said, remember me,” Jon repeated with a wistful look on his face. He added a tune that was all too familiar to Damian. “Though I have to travel far…”

“Don’t you dare sing it!” Damian barked. It was from a recent Disney movie that Jon had begged him to go watch, and it was the last movie they’d seen together. The song was a message of a heartfelt farewell, longing, and separation. Jon was saying goodbye.

“Jon, what are you on about?” Damian asked again, this time not bothering to hide his worry. His brows were furrowed and knit together and his frown turned his lips into a severe, thin line.

“You heard about the last battle my dad had?” Jon said as he stared at his jeans. His bony knees poked out of the intentionally ripped holes. He absent-mindedly began pulling and twisting at a loose strand of blue denim.  

“Yeah, but I thought your dad won and just needed rest?” Damian had heard about Superman’s battle with an alien invader that had disturbed central Washington D.C. No one knew much about it other than that it posed a threat to the safety of the population. Superman had engaged the mysterious alien, which apparently had the power to bend the man of steel’s mind and perception of reality. Superman had been dazed as if hit by a powerful invisible cannon of pure force. But just as mysteriously and unexpectedly as it had come, the mind-bending intruder had disappeared. Damian, like the rest of the world, assumed that Superman had won.  

“Dad didn’t win,” Jon said, the pain evident behind his calm. “Whatever that thing was, it just came to mess with him, and then left. Dad is…Dad’s changed. He’s acting like he’s from another time—an older time. He doesn’t even recognize my mom…or me.”

“I’m…I’m sorry, Jon.” Damian had no trouble being sincere this time. He knew all too well what it felt like to have his father exist but live a different life not knowing his children ever existed. He put a comforting arm around Jon’s shoulders, and Jon gladly leaned into it.  Damian wished he could hold Jon in his arms until the hurt in his voice went away.

“There’s a way,” Jon said after a while, but his hesitation mounted. “The fortress of solitude said that there might be a way to get my dad back to normal…but it’ll be risky.”

“What way? Damian asked warily. “And at what cost?”

“Mom and I have to go away for a while to search for the cure,” Jon explained morosely. “Part of the thing’s power is that we have to be the ones to get it, so that dad will remember us again.”

“And the catch?” Damian asked, steeling his gut for the inevitable dreadful answer.

“I don’t know where it is exactly. I think it could be in space, or maybe even another dimension. And also…I don’t know how long I’ll be away. Could be a few weeks…or a few years.”

“Oh,” Damian said simply. The air seemed to leave his lungs all at once, and his stomach felt like it dropped to the street hundreds of feet below. The city’s sounds suddenly became muted as if Damian was hearing them from a thousand miles away. All the color in the lights faded to a garish gray.

Jon sensed the drastic shift in Damian’s emotions. It was all he could to weave his fingers in between Damian’s and hold his hand. “Damian, this is what I wanted to ask you today. I’m going away, maybe for a long while. I need to know that even without me around, you’ll be okay, that you’ll take care of yourself and just keep on being the friend I know and…” Jon gulped as if his breath hitched on the next word he was about to say. “The…the friend I care about.”

“Do you know what you’re supposed to do?” Damian asked, as though he was pleading Jon wouldn’t and that he’d need more time to plan things. He’d stay so that he could plan. He would need months for planning. Maybe years. Jon would stay. He had to.

“Aside from leaving and seeing where the fortress portal leads us, I don’t know. I’ll do what I have to.” Jon replied, but there was a stoic resolution in his voice. Then to Damian, he asked more gently, “How about you, what are you gonna do in the meantime?”

“What I have to,” Damian repeated in what seemed like an admission of defeat.

Jon wrapped Damian in a quick hug, and he was glad that Damian didn’t resist—he didn’t even click his tongue in disapproval. “You’ll be okay,” he said confidently. “I know you will!”

“I sometimes wish I knew as much as you did,” Damian replied dryly.

“C’mon, don’t be so glum, Damian. It’s not like I’m not breaking up with you!” Jon teased playfully. But then suddenly his eyes went wide with embarrassment when he saw Damian’s appalled look. “Oh man, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to imply anything—we’re not like together or—I’m really sorry—“

“—Don’t be,” Damian cut him off gently. He tightened his grip on Jon’s hand. The pair of them stayed like that, sitting on top of an apartment ceiling and quietly holding hands for what seemed like hours, even though it was really just a few minutes. Neither of them broke the silence. Jon had said goodbye after that, and flew off into the night. Thunder had just begun to rumble and line the murky purple clouds overhead.

It was so stupid, Damian thought, that even after everything that he and Jon had done together, everything they’d done for each other and everything they’d done to each other, they had only been just friends. Or rather…there was a tacit agreement that they were only just that, because Damian had never said otherwise. He’d always wanted to, but he never did. He’d never be able to. It was the last he saw of Jonathan Samuel Kent.

As the days passed, and as his cape grew longer and darker, and his head started bearing the weight of the cowl, a single thought had haunted Damian in his every idle moment. It was always the face of the sunny, cheerful boy that he could’ve had if only he’d just said something. Anything. He’d have given up all the fortune his father had passed down to him if it meant that he could hear Jon ask that question one more time, that one question, that always rang in his ears.

“Hey, Damian, we’re friends, aren’t we?”

Because now, Damian was ready to answer with all the words he’d ever wanted to say, words that took years to ever reach his lips.

“Yes, I am. And …I love you. Dear gods, I love you.”