#anyway its loving damian mornings

[breadandblankets]

Damian as Robin, perched on a rooftop with a steaming cup of tea in a fine bone china cup, staring into the middle distance like a world weary old man: "In this world it's stab or be stabbed"

Civilian with their window open a floor below: O_o

[luxaofhesperides]

Soulmark AU + Sleeping Beauty ; requested by @candeartist422!

For the last few years, Duke’s been waiting for his soulmate to die.

It sounds cruel to say it that way. But the waiting is more painful, he thinks, than just mourning a lost love. It’s not like most people ever meet their soulmates anyways; his parents weren’t meant to be, but they still loved each other and had a life together. He wishes he could turn his focus away from his soulmate, but Duke is a romantic at heart and has always wanted to find the other half of his soul.

But since he was fourteen, his soulmark has dulled, fading in and out of color. What was once a vibrant blue crystal star, with eight points and a swirl of watercolor hues around it, dimmed more and more until Duke was sure he was watching his soulmate die slowly. 

His soulmate didn’t die then. Whoever they are got better, his soulmark gaining color, but it never went back to the way it was. For years after, Duke would check at the beginning and end of each day, keeping track of when it faded and when it regained its color. 

He thought his soulmate was sick. In and out of hospitals, fighting to stay alive.

And then it went nearly colorless. 

Duke doesn’t remember much about that day. He knows he woke up, brushed his teeth, the lifted up his shirt to check his soulmark in the mirror. The blue was almost completely gone, the star on his left hipbone nearly gray with how colorless it was. He started at it for a moment, shocked, and reality slid away from him as he retreated into the safety of his mind, fully dissociating. 

Bruce had found him when Duke didn’t show up for breakfast. He held him and offered quiet words of comfort that Duke couldn’t understand, but just having someone with him lessened the hurt of losing his soulmate. 

Seeing the color come back the next day, faint as it was, hurt even more.

A year later, Duke still can’t break the habit of checking his soulmark twice a day. It hasn’t changed at all, still faint and dim, but carrying just enough color to show that his soulmate was still alive. At the very least, they were still breathing, but his chance of ever meeting them is basically zero. Still, he can’t help but hope, wishing that he could meet them even once before they die and leave him forever. 

“Same as ever,” he murmurs to himself as he brushes his thumb against his soulmark. He’s terrified that he’s forgotten how beautiful the blue of it was when his soulmate was healthy. 

Duke doesn’t let himself think on it too much anymore. Though his thoughts often turn to his soulmate during quiet moments like these, the busy nature of Gotham is usually more than enough to pull his attention back to the here and now. There’s no use in obsessing over his soulmate anyways; they’re just going to die, sooner or later, and Duke knows he’ll never get to meet them. They’ll just be another empty space in his life, right next to his parents. 

“Come on, Thomas, focus,” he tells himself firmly, then gets dressed and heads down to the kitchen for breakfast.

The manor is quiet. It usually is in the mornings, with everyone from the night shift dead asleep and trying to get as much rest as they can before they have to start their day. Not that many of them stay in the manor these days; Duke and Damian are the only permanent residents at the moment, but Steph usually stays half with her mom and half in the manor during the summers when she’s home from college, and the others drop in whenever they feel like it. 

Bruce lives more in the Batcave than the manor, so he doesn’t really count. It’s also why Duke is surprised to see Bruce awake and dressed like a normal person, drinking coffee in the kitchen as if this is a normal occurrence. 

“Morning,” Duke offers.

“Good morning, Duke,” Bruce replies. “Sleep well?”

“Well enough. Alfred out or something?”

“He may have kicked me out of the Batcave to clean it up a bit,” Bruce answers tiredly. “Want me to make breakfast?”

Duke has heard the horror stories of Bruce’s attempts to make edible food in a kitchen. In the interest of not dealing with food poisoning, Duke shakes his head quickly and says, “Nah, it’s fine. I was kinda wanting to eat out for breakfast. Get out there as me, and not a mask, you know?”

“Mind if I join you? Alfred may forgive me for not sleeping if I willingly go outside.”

Duke laughs. “Sure man, as long as you pay.”

“I’ll drive, too.”

“What, don’t trust me behind a wheel?”

Bruce gives him a tired look, eyes dead and dull. “I have taught all my children how to drive. The day I willingly let them take the wheel when I am not actively dying is the day I’ve been replaced by a robot clone of myself who doesn’t know better yet.”

“That is… very specific. Is that a thing you usually worry about?”

“I’m Batman. I have to worry about everything.”

Yeah, that tracks. Duke wouldn’t be surprised if he has at least five contingency plans for that scenario, should it ever happen. “Well,” he says, “Right now, all you need to worry about is having your wallet and driving us down to The Foodie Nook. I’ve been craving their breakfast plates for ages.”

Bruce doesn’t object to his choice of restaurant and follows Duke down to the garage, grabbing a random set of keys and pointing it out to the many cars he owns. One near the front blinks its lights as it unlocks and Duke cheerfully tosses himself into the passenger seat as Bruce opens the garage door. 

The drive into Gotham is smooth. They don’t hit traffic until they reach the bridge that leads into the city proper, taking them away from the quiet of Bristol. The morning is busy, but not enough that Duke worries about being out as the Signal to help keep the peace. It’s a normal type of busy, one borne from people going about their lives, feeling safe enough to go out. 

The Foodie Nook is entirely local and very popular, so the parking lot is nearly full. But they expanded their space last year, which means he and Bruce don’t have to sit outside while they wait to grab a table. Bruce keeps conversation light and casual, well aware of the many listening ears around them, and it’s nice, feeling normal for once. 

Well, as normal as life can be with Bruce Wayne™. The server who comes to lead them to a table realizes who she’s talking to after she gets a proper look at them while holding open the door and promptly stutters over her words. 

“No need for any special treatment,” Bruce laughs lightly, “We’re just here for breakfast. Nothing special.”

“Of course,” she replies, cheeks red. “Um, right this way! We’ve got a table by the windows for you. Just two, yeah?”

“Yup! Just two. Thought this was a good day to spend some time with Duke. He’s a great kid, you know, I’m glad I was given the opportunity to foster him.”

The sunny, cheerful Bruce Wayne persona is so different from the usual Bruce he works with that it feels like he’s standing next to a stranger. But his words are sincere and warm his heart, filling up the gaps that his soulmate has left. 

“Here you are!” their server announces, showing them to their table. “I’ll be right back with some menus.” She’s gone in a rush, and other customers glance over before quickly averting their gaze. 

It’s one of the unspoken rules of Gotham: give the Waynes their privacy while they’re out in public. Questions and conversation are for public events only, but if they see a Wayne out and about during a normal day, everyone leaves them be unless spoken to first. Duke used to follow those rules as well when he was just another Gothamite. It’s strange being on the other side of that now that he’s in with the Waynes.

Duke barely has to look through the menu when it’s handed to him. The breakfast plates are his favorites and he gets one every single time he comes to The Foodie Nook; stacked full with breakfast foods from around the world. As a kid, he loved the Mexico Plate, but these days he’s craving either the Brazilian Plate or the Vietnamese Plate.  

He can’t decide on which one and thinks about tossing a coin to decide, but seeing how that’s Two Face’s whole thing, he decides to hold off and settle the matter with eenie-meenie-minnie-mo. 

He gets the Vietnamese Plate.

Bruce, on the other hand, reads through the entire menu like it’s a novel, then leans over and says rather loudly, “Duke, what’s a tort-illa.” 

The pain he feels hearing that is only worsened by the amusement in Bruce’s eyes. He’s doing it on purpose, playing up the Brucie act for the public so he can psychologically torment Duke. A few nearby customers choke back laughter, turning away to hide their smiles. 

Duke shakes his head and says, “Don’t worry about it. It’s just food. Don’t ask any more questions, I just want a peaceful breakfast.”

“Well then,” Bruce replies, “I suppose I know what to order now.”

As if she was summoned, their server reappears before them, cheeks still looking a little flushed. “Hi! Ready to order?”

She writes down their orders quickly, valiantly keeping a straight face at Bruce’s mispronunciation of tortilla, then heads off to deliver their orders to the kitchen. 

Rather than draw out a conversation with Brucie Wayne, Duke settles for playing a few idle games on his phone; his current favorite is one quiet cat cafe game where he directs cats into fulfilling cafe orders. 

Bruce, despite being out in his civilian identity, is working. He’s on his Batman phone, which looks the same as his other cell phones except this one has a bat symbol sticker just barely hiding a Superman sticker on the phone case. His brow is slightly furrowed as he reads whatever file he’s accessing from the Batcomputer. It’s a little worrying but it could be anything. Bruce makes the same expression when he reads one of Tim’s snarky comments getting quoted in the news.

But that’s not Duke’s problem! He’s here to enjoy his breakfast and it will take the end of the world itself to remove him from his seat before he’s done eating.

The game takes most of his attention until their food comes out, and by then Bruce has tucked away the smallest of his Batman mannerisms. They enjoy a normal, peaceful breakfast. Bruce ends it by asking their server if she has any debt that’s weighing her down, then giving her a tip that’s at least five thousand dollars above that. 

She does cry and Bruce hugs her. It’s very sweet. 

As soon as they get back into the car, his easy going smile drops and Duke knows some superhero nonsense is about to take over his day. 

“Duke,” Bruce starts, seriously, “I received a message from Zatanna.”

“Don’t drag this out,” Duke says, “Just give it to me straight. What terrible thing is about to happen to us?”

“It’s nothing too big. They just recently defeated a magical being who had been tearing apart secret government facilities in Illinois. He had both magic and a high tech weapon, which they confiscated and are delivering to me. The government agency he was fighting was suspiciously interested in the weapon, and based on their behaviors and newly revealed work, Zatanna made the decision to turn the weapon over to us so it doesn’t fall into the wrong hands.”

Bruce smoothly merges into traffic as he speaks, getting them onto the road back to the manor. There’s a look in his eyes that means he’s keeping a lot unsaid, and Duke knows without a doubt that whatever this government agency was doing is bad if Zatanna needs Batman to act as extra security. 

He’s not sure about her decision to trust the weapon to be safe in Gotham, either. Sure, Batman will keep it as safe as he can, but with their luck, it’ll end up in the hands of a Rogue and lead to a lot of death and destruction. 

As soon as they cross the bridge and return to Bristol, Bruce steps on the gas and the car tears down the road. Without any other cars to worry about (or traffic laws), it takes barely two minutes to reach the manor, when the gates open for them and let them into the garage. 

Alfred waits for them by the door, looking them over with a critical eye. “I see you have managed to go outside, Master Bruce. What’s the special occasion?”

“Just breakfast,” Bruce answers. “I’m heading back down to the Batcave. Zatanna will be here soon to deliver a weapon.” He’s gone before Alfred can say anything more, hurrying down the hall and turning the corner, disappearing from sight as he heads towards his office. 

“I see we have yet to break that bad habit of his. Did you enjoy your morning out, Master Duke?”

“Sure did, Alfred. I’m, uh, also going down to the Batcave. He’s definitely not telling me a lot about what’s going on, so I’m just going to read about it over his shoulder. I’ll be back up for lunch, though!”

“And perhaps you’ll be able to drag Master Bruce away from that cave of his,” Alfred comments wryly as he walks with Duke towards the office. He gives Duke a nod, then splits away from him, returning to the kitchen where Duke can hear Damian speaking to someone, probably Tim by the annoyed tone of his voice, and mentally wishes Alfred luck in handling them.

Duke sets the correct time on the clock in Bruce’s office and heads down to the Batcave, taking the steps two at a time. 

Bruce is already at the Batcomputer, shoulders tensed, when he arrives. 

“More bad news?” he asks as he makes his way over.

Bruce doesn’t bother looking away from the screen as he says, “More details about the fight. It seems the magical being called himself a ghost and was going on a rampage due to a betrayal. He says they nearly killed his son.”

“Oh, yikes.”

“And two of the scientists working with the government agency said that he stole their son and is keeping them from saving him.”

“Yikes,” Duke says with more feeling.

He doesn’t get to hear anymore details about JLD’s fight with this ghost when he catches a flicker in the corner of his eye. Duke turns and stares at the empty space in the Batcave near the medbay and watches as colorful magic gathers and swirls in dizzing circles. The portal opens a moment later and Zatanna steps out, looking exhausted and lightly singed. 

“Batman,” she greets, holding a white gun that looks like it belongs in an early sci-fi movie from the 60s. “The GIW is trying to arrest us. Constantine keeps burning their badges and documents so it shouldn’t be a problem, but they are determined to get this back. I wouldn’t be surprised if they came after you next. They’ve got some way of tracking things, but I didn’t have time to get any details before I had to leave.”

Bruce takes the gun from her hands carefully, looking it over with a sharp gaze. “Why would a ghost want to use a gun?”

“I don’t know. He had a variety of powers, too.”

“What does this do?”

“Shoots ice. He never let it go and nearly burned me alive for taking it before we subdued him.”

“We’ll keep it locked up,” Bruce promises. 

Zatanna sighs. It looks as though a physical weight fell off her shoulders. “Thanks. I’m going to head back to stop Constantine from getting into a fistfight with the GIW agents.”

She opens another portal with a waved hand and a muttered spell. Bruce is already walking away to set the gun down on a work station, so Duke is the one to wave Zatanna goodbye. 

By the time he reaches Bruce’s side, the gun is already dismantled, all pieces neatly set aside. Sticky notes denote which pieces go together and in what order. It looks the same as most guns, save for the aesthetic, but the heart of it is a glowing blue orb, large enough to cover the entirety of Bruce’s palm, and it brings a chill to the air.

Duke stares at it and feels his soulmark burn ice cold.

“Duke?”

It’s in his hands. He doesn’t remember reaching out to take it, but it’s in his hands. He can’t take his eyes off of it, cradling it gently and bringing it closer to his chest. 

It’s the same blue his soulmark once was. Before his soulmate began to fade, before every day became a waiting game to see how long his soulmate will last before they die. 

This has something to do with his soulmate. He’s sure of it. 

He won’t let anyone take it from him. 

“Duke. Give that to me.”

He doesn’t feel like he’s in his body. He’s detached, floating somewhere outside his body, puppeteering his limbs, making them move without feeling the motion. Shadows condense around his feet and Bruce takes a step back, wary. 

“Duke,” he says again, but Duke can’t find any words, can’t draw on his voice, can’t even look away from the bright, bright blue of the orb. It pulses lightly in his hand like a heartbeat. 

Bruce reaches a hand out. 

He’s pulled back by shadows before he can get close, and Duke holds the orb against his chest, right against his heart, and feels the cold seep into him. 

“Duke. I need you to look at me.” This time, Bruce’s voice has Batman’s growl in it, a heavy command that he can’t help but instinctively follow. He looks up and meets Bruce’s eyes, but he can’t focus. All his awareness is in his hands and the heartbeat of the glowing orb.

“I have to protect this,” Duke manages to whisper. “I… I think it’s alive.”

“Okay. Let’s get you to the medbay so you can sit down. We’ll figure this out, Duke.”

Bruce slowly, carefully, sets his hand on Duke’s shoulder. He keeps his attention away from the orb, so Duke allows it and lets Bruce guide him to the medbay and onto one of the medical cots. Bruce leaves him after a minute of quiet fussing, muttering about calling Zatanna.

Whatever. None of that matters when the heartbeat of the orb grows stronger, steadier, and Duke feels it match the beat of his own heart.

Time slips away from him. Distantly, he hears people move around the cave, speaking in low tones. A hand presses against his shoulder, warm, then moves away. 

The orb in his hand moves. 

Duke blinks slowly, then claws his way back to awareness, pushing past the haze that’s fallen over his mind. The orb turns over in his hand, then cracks right down the middle. The glow grows stronger, washing the medbay in blue light and a symbol appears on the orb.

It’s his soulmark. 

Later, he won’t be able to say why he did it. There were no thoughts, no reasonings, no explanations. Duke simply moved on instinct and lifted the orb up to his face and pressed a soft kiss against it. 

One moment, the orb was still.

The next, it had burst in a flash of light that blinded everyone in the Batcave, and then a thin, injured teenager had fallen into Duke’s lap. 

Hands immediately grab him, pulling him away from Duke. The teenager puts up no fight, eyes barely open, but he reaches for Duke weakly. On his wrist is the bright blue snowflake, the color strong and vivid. 

“That’s me soulmate,” Duke whispers as he watches Bruce and Tim set the boy down on another medical cot. 

“What?” Tim says, turning to face Duke, concern clear on his face. 

“That’s my soulmate,” he repeats, louder. Then, panicked, he pulls up his shirt enough to see his own soulmark; the color is still dull, weak, barely there, but it’s more blue that it has been in a while. He doesn’t need to say anything. Tim sees the dullness of his soulmark, looks at the boy, and puts the pieces together on his own.

“I’ll call Doc Thompkins,” he says, already moving to fix everything. Bruce remains where he is, making sure the boy is tucked in and breathing steadily before he returns to Duke. 

“Are you alright?”

Duke swallows roughly, unable to tear his eyes away from the boy. He’s pale and thin, as if he’d been starved, and there’s frost beginning to spread on the bedsheet from his fingers. “He’s my soulmate,” Duke manages to say. “He’s been dying for two years.”

Bruce’s eyes a hard, a determined light in them. “We’ll save him,” he promises. 

If anyone can, it’s Batman. 

If anyone can, it’s them, Batman and the Signal, and their entire network of family and friends. 

Duke’s been waiting for his soulmate to die all this time. Now, he’s going to save him.

[siddyyyyyyyy]

Imagine Damian with a sunshine reader but they sometimes turn into a whole new person with jay from the kubz scouts humor "I swear if this doesn't work I'll take off ___ headband wipe my ass with it put it back on bird box style and give myself pink eye" 😭

Anyway good night/morning

Don't forget to eat and drink well!!

Strange Kind of Humour

Older!Damian Wayne x Reader

wc: 1.2 K summary: you hate bugs (sorry for the people who love bugs) warnings: lots of bad words. a/n: thank you so much for the request and sorry for the late reply, but this is really funny and had to educate myself on that kubz scouts guy (i watch him regularly now) i couldn't really come up with such creative words, but this is the best i could do. enjoy! (divider)

75% of all animal species are insects, most of them have wings and can fly. However, only some of them look cute and are not some venomous, useless, shit-eating bastards who are trying to get into your stupid tent.

Someone came up with the perfect idea to go camping for two days, to finally relax from everything that‘s been going on. Bruce was very reluctant but eventually got blackmailed into joining, not having any possible way of working since you are all in the middle of the woods, trying to have fun.

Damian invited you to go with him, actually begged you, so he isn‘t alone with all these lunatics, and you‘ve never been more happy to join a trip. He knew you would be happy to join, just hoping the others won‘t make fun of him for being ‚soft‘ for you, or else this small family-trip will end up in a blood bath. So far, it‘s been actually pretty good so far, you had something warm to eat, having grilled together, had something vegetarian for Damian. You talked a lot with Dick and Tim, noticed the funny dynamic between Jason and Tim, befriended Cass, and made fun of Damian together with Duke as he failed to build the tent up three times.

Now, that everyone has tents and sleeping bags, you can all take a rest for the day and sleep. If it weren‘t for the bugs trying to fly in and annoy you both. Damian didn‘t seem to mind much, just curling himself up in his sleeping bag so no one can disturb him. But this is enough.

»I swear to god, if these little shits won‘t stop coming in, I will pull my fucking hairspray and a lighter out and burn this whole fucking forest.«

You mutter under your breath, but Damian caught wind of it. Of course he did, he is laying right beside you. His head shoots out of the sleeping bag, looking at you in the dark.

»How about we don‘t?«

Damian suggest quietly, slightly puzzled on how annoyed you are over such a thing. It‘s just bugs.

»I‘m sure they will leave us alone sooner or later. Just put your sleeping bag over your head.«

he tells you, hoping to soothe you down and hope that you won‘t be disturbed for the night. It‘s just one night, after all.

You huff out and do as told, shifting to put your sleeping bag over your head, curled up like him in his own bag.

zzzz

You want to punch that mosquito right then and there. Normally you would just brush it off and try to get it away, but this won‘t do anything since you are literally in a forest, camping. It only makes sense for bugs and insects to be there.

It‘s silent for a moment before the high-pitched buzzing starts again, already done with this.

»Look, I‘m gonna get this thing, track its whole family down and behead every single one-«

»Okay, how about we relax and open the tent for a moment so it can fly out, hm?«

He finally sits up and wraps his arm around your shoulder to keep you seated in your sleeping bag. No matter how many times you curse and say out-of-pockets things like that, it always surprises him when you do that. It usually happens whenever you are annoyed or upset, and right now he is pretty sure you are exasperated. Which doesn‘t make this any better.

Eventually, he managed to lay you back down to sleep after a few moments, having some annoying buzzing around, but it‘s nothing too bad. You both fell asleep after a while, getting woken up later in the morning by a scream. Damian immediately goes to check, peeking out of the tent and cursing himself for not bringing his katana to the trip.

Looking out, he sees Tim at the small camp fire, holding a stick out at a… racoon? What the hell is a racoon doing here? Don‘t they live somewhere else than.. oh, well.

Damian sighs out, getting out of the tent to help him out.

»Relax, Drake, they don‘t bite… usually.«

Tim looks to Damian briefly before staring back at the racoon wide-eyed, still pointing the stick at the innocent animal that was just curious on what these big people and tents are.

»What do you mean ‚usually‘?!«

Damian finally gets fully out of your tent, keeping his eyes on the racoon while approaching it slowly. He ignores the literal panic radiating off of Tim, gently shooing the animal away, but it just stays on its spot, not budging.

It‘s then, when you wake up, having caught some of the conversation between the brothers. You finally peek out of your tent as well, gasping as you see the racoon. The round, fluffy animal keeps its dark eyes on Damian, just sitting relaxed while your boyfriend is trying to shoo him away.

You didn‘t gaps out of disgust, but out of surprise and awe. There‘s not a lot of days you see a cute racoon, a stubborn at that as well. Sure, it‘s a wild animal, but why does it look so squishy then?

Coming out of the tent, you stand beside Damian, trying to get closer to the animal. Damian tries to get you behind him, but you have none of it.

»You need to step back, this is a wild animal— «

»No! Look how cute he is, I just want to pet him quickly!«

You protest, definitely blind by hthe cuteness of the racoon. Damian huffs out, turning to look at you.

»What are you? Snow white, or something? Just step back, let the poor thing run away.«

You whine in protest, really wanting to pet the racoon still. The small argument wakes the rest up as well, having thought it‘s nothing bad at first, but hearing that you both won‘t stop bickering, it made the others curious.

»What the hell is up with you guys?« Jason grumbles tiredly from his tent, still sitting in it but peeking out. Damian turns his attention to the voice, sighing out in defeat. Eventually, you take the opportunity to get closer to the racoon while Damian distracts himself with Jason, arguing with him now.

You get disappointed as the racoon runs away from you, not havnig been so brave after all. With a small huff, it all falls back to normal, the trip comes back to what they consider normal, eating some breakfast before playing frisbee all together. It turns into a competetive game, everyone including Bruce, trying to catch the frisbee and make the other drop or not even catch it in the first place. It‘s a bit chaotic, but it‘s never not chaotic with them. Not that you complain, you really like their dynamic overall and that they are all so sweet to you, although they do tease Damian a lot whenever he is affection with you.

A bright orange, plastic hits your side, yelping at the sudden collition. Of course someone had to accidently hit you with the frisbee. Duke gasps, immeditialy feeling guilty and really wants to sink into the ground at how embarrassing it is. Especially with how Damian glares at him, looking ready to kill.

»Damn, you trynna get me killed?!« You shout before this could escalate, throwing the frisbee back to him, landing at against his stomach with a grunt.

The tension melts away and you proceed to play the game until one finally wins, making the rest groan in defeat.

a/n: how you enjoyed it!!

[damian-al-ghul-wayne]

Damian's birthday (one-shot)

★°•.: So, I decided to write something for Damian. Since his birthday is today (August 9th). This will have to be split up into multiple parts due to it overextending the limit. I also have not proofread this since it's 5am. So I apologize for any spelling errors.

It was late at night, and Damian had tried to fall asleep a couple of hours ago. Usually they would have been out on patrol, stopping criminals in his path, and serve justice just how his father had started teaching him when it had arrived. Tonight had been different. He'd come down with a fever, and Pennyworth had made sure that Damian stayed home tonight. He's snuck out multiple times before, but instead of fighting it, Damian accepted that he had to stay home anyways. Especially with his birthday in the morning. He laid in bed, refreshing the feed every other minute meanwhile his other family members left the house for patrol, making Damian alone with no one besides his animals. It had been the worst decision he had ever made. Ever since Damian arrived in gotham, he had always hated himself. He hated being alone despite always suggesting it should go off on its own during missions. There was no evil hate filled intent behind it. Damian had the idea that if they'd go off on their own, fight and take down as many criminals as it could, then he'd be worthy of the grace his Father and siblings granted him. It never worked. No matter what it did, he never felt fully accepted. There was always blood on his hands, and there was no way they'd be able to rid of it. How could someone such as him be so cruel, and gain back that honor he had lost? The answer was always that he couldn't.

Green restless eyes stared up at the ceiling. His phone laid on his chest as it buzzed every now and then, alerting him on messages he had been receiving. It wasn't enough to make him check just yet. There had been many other thoughts that were plaguing the young boy's mind. How old was he? supposedly turning fifteen, other though it never even felt like he had turned fourteen due to missing his thirteenth birthday. How could he be so old when a year of his vanished because he hadn't been good enough to stay alive? His Father revived him. He remembered every single detail about that day. He remembered crying in his father's arms as he was being told, "it's okay, I have you.", and just for a second, Damian had hope that be would've been able to redeem himself. He had another chance. Another chance to show that he wouldn't have to end up hell when he died. That this specific revival could wash away the blood that formed on his hands in it's mind.

He had been a fool to think that.

Why would he get a second chance when the people he murdered wouldn't be able to? Why would the blood wash from his hands when he had been revived multiple times only for it to stick. Why would this ever be different? How did he ever deserve any of the people that offered him comfort? How did he ever deserve the warm and gentle embrace that everyone he had ever loved gave him? It's because they didn't deserve it. Their Father could express otherwise. Even their Mother could, but he'd never listen.

A few more buzzes stole Damian from his thoughts. Curiosity finally got to him as it had sat up. Damian was surprised to see that it was not Jonathan who had been blowing his phone up. The tanned boy scanned over the messages from his father and mother. They'd been arguing. Online. Where anyone, including Damian, could see. What fools they must have been to be stupid enough to discuss such preposterous things in the general eye of media public? It watched the conversation continue for a while, until his father had made a certain comment expressing that Damian would never let him die at the age of 32. Which was bullshit. He had died multiple times before, yet nobody had a problem with that? All these scars it had all over his body were that exact reminder him dying. Alexander the Great was 32 when he had died, yet had been an amazing leader and practically ruled the world. How dare anyone tell him how it's story was going to go. It should've been his decision on how long he was going to live. Not anybody else's. Damian wasn't sure why this angered him. All his life he had taken abuse, that he believed to deserve, and had it's life controlled. His father promised it that it wouldn't happen anymore. This suggestion didn't sound anything like that promise. It set Damian off, though his ability to show emotion through text was unbearably bad. It went back and forth for a few messages, and then it stopped. No reply. No nothing. It had been a fool to trust his father's word of freedom. Then Jonathan messaged him.

It was weird. Damian hadn't felt this kind of emotion before. Jon swore the emotion it had been feeling was the emotion of love. What a bunch of idiotic logic. Damian couldn't feel love, moreso feel it for someone else. It was the first thing it been taught. Love was a sign of weakness that he hadn't need in his life. So how would it not be an act of weakness when he was with Jonathan. His sun. The person he swore was his bestfriend.

[devine-fem]

What about Jondami's marrige? 😏 What do you think happens? Their families reaction?

I love the idea of Jon showing up at Wayne Manor and being so formal with Bruce with all the “Mr. Wayne” and “yes, sir” he can throw in and being so timid because he HAS to get this blessing in order for everything to be perfect because Damian “deserves no less” and poor Bruce has his arms crossed and is torturing this poor guy, being as vague as possible and throwing him through multiple loops to test Jon and if he’s actually worthy of Damian but more selfishly it’s all because he wants to feel secure in their relationship. Jon is SWEATING… he takes everything Bruce is saying dead serious and he’s being gaslit to hell like a drill sergeant… he does eventually get that blessing and a heart to heart with Bruce.

Talia is actually quite easy because she’s materialistic and selfishly I like to think that even adult Jon would be mature enough to get along with Talia or at least try because they’ll be in laws and so Talia tells Jon what sort of proper ring he should get Damian and what he’s to do if he wants them to have a fortunate and healthy marriage but he eventually gets a heart to heart with her as well, making him promise that he’d do whatever it takes to keep Damian safe and happy.

THEN when he actually does propose its infront of so many heroes and Damian is freaking out but more at the fact that he’s internally panicking about the fact that someone is actively trying to marry him and he’s begging Jon to stop embarrassing him but Jon is just continuing to go on and on about how happy he’s been with Damian. The batboys are freaking out to the point they are almost as stressed at him, the girls are gawking and clark’s wishing he had his phone.

Damian says “Yes, jeez! If that’ll make you stop this!” and so they’re engaged.

but also, there’s angst because they’d be the only two in the family that has successfully gotten married and Damian would be terrified of this and really in his head about the whole concept of marriage and the fact that… he’s really committed to this whole “life partner” thing…

Jon’s stressed out to the point he almost builds the wedding venue himself because he needs everything to be perfect but clarks there for him.

Conner is Jon’s best man and Dick is Damian’s. Steph and Kara as flower girls and when I tell you that this wedding venue would be AWESOME! it’d be so cultural and visually stimulating and don’t even let me get into how I could go on and on about how their wedding suits could match their cultures as Al Ghul and kryptonian.

anyway, dick’s sharing all their couple fights and all the embarrassing parts of their relationship that they confided in him once he gets a mic in his hand, jason doesnt expect it but he cries with dick. tim is shit faced drunk and clark and bruce are cracking as many in law jokes as they possibly can.

now imagine the most domestic husbands ever. these two are the most embarrassing and annoying married couple you will ever meet but they also dance in their kitchen to absolutely no music and cook each other breakfast in the morning every day so its not all going to be bad.

[cdelphiki]

Jason and the Three Terrors spoilers

So I got an ask I'm going to put under a spoiler to answer! I'm going to include a snippet of my draft of a side story I'll post eventually, showing what's going on in Gotham right now!

HI I LOVE YOUR COMMENTS. Okay, to answer: We do!!!!! I don't now how much of the details will be put into the actual main story, since it's all Jason's POV, but I am working on a side story that's from Tim's POV. I might have it just be one "big" fic where I also have Bruce and Clark's POV and it's basically just jumping through part II showing what's going on with all them. Also Alfred will be preparing rooms for them all, just not quite yet. Bruce knows the kids won't be coming to him yet, but he and Clark are both working toward the four of them moving to Gotham to be with Bruce.

Tim basically figures it all out, Bruce had left the case to him to deal with, and Tim figures out Clark is in contact with the defectors pretty quickly, and once he makes the connection to Jason and Damian being Bruce's kid, he brings all the info to Bruce and Bruce is PISSED lmao. Anyway here's a small snipped from Tim doing the detective work: Its the most polished part I have, but it's still a rough draft. (This takes place on either Friday or Saturday morning, when Tim went over to Clark's house that same Saturday morning.)

-

Tim finally tracked down the League kids. It was surprisingly difficult. Whoever was on their side was good, because the paper trail of them going through airport security was wiped almost immediately after they left the airport. Tim couldn’t find any close up photos of them anywhere.

So it took him a week to figure out where they’d gone, but once he finally figured that out, it didn't take too long to track them down.

They’d bought train tickets to Metropolis, and Tim found where the teenager had exchanged his fake New York drivers license for a real Delaware one. Which was pretty damn impressive.

But it meant Tim had a clear photo of him.

And his first name.

And honestly? Tim was very, very confused.

Because this kid looked exactly like Jason Todd, just bigger, with straighter hair, and a white streak in his hair.

But Jason was dead.

Bruce grieved him way too hard for that to be fake. Jason was definitely dead.

But this kid went by the name Jason… Jason Johnson. Which was Jason Todd’s adoptive mother’s maiden name.

And the eyes were exact.

Tim had run them through a program to compare them to Jason Todd’s and, well. It said exact match. Same with a facial recognition.

When a new photo popped up on his newly created alert, Tim easily pulled the Daily Planet employment records and was able to double confirm. This definitely looked like Jason Todd.

But if he was Jason, why hadn’t he come to Bruce?

Was the League threatening him? Was he afraid to come to Bruce because of that? He’d gone to Metropolis, which was close. Did he know that the bats would figure it out, find him, and help him?

Tim was honestly ready to go straight to Bruce with all this, but he hesitated. Jason’s birthday was coming up in a little over a month, and Bruce was not handling it well.

If Tim was wrong here…

So Tim needed to gather more evidence.

The first thing he did was enlist Kon.

“Tim why are we doing this,” Conner asked, after he’d flown the two of them to Gotham Cemetery. It was just before dawn, so the cemetery was completely abandoned, giving them perfect privacy.

And it was way too early for Bruce to be awake, so he wouldn’t notice what Tim was doing, either.

“I have a hunch, okay?” Tim said, as he walked the last few paces over to the gravestone that said Jason Todd.

Conner stayed back where he landed and said, uncertainly, “This feels wrong. Isn’t it wrong? Like… grave robbing?”

“It’s not wrong,” Tim shot back, “We aren’t digging him up. Just looking.”

“What if I don't want to look?” Kon whined back.

Which was fair enough. Tim didn’t want to look inside coffins, either. But this was necessary.

“If I’m right, there’s nothing to even look at,” he said, “It’s empty down there.” And if it wasn’t empty down there, then they were dealing with a clone.

But the clone clearly wasn’t doing what Ra’s wanted him to do, because he’d gone and stolen three kids right from under Ra’s nose.

Kon held his gaze another long moment, clearly hoping Tim would change his mind. When Tim held the gaze firmly, and didn’t budge, Kon dropped his shoulders and grimaced.

And, finally, looked down at the grave they were standing near. He took a deep breath, then really looked, and his eyes went wide.

“Damn,” Kon exhaled, “You’re right.”

Tim couldn’t help his grin.

“How are you right?”

“I don’t know,” Tim said, “that’s what I need to figure out next.”

[dubacheryking]

timdami headcanons?

okay so i am SO sorry i took so long to answer this. for one thing i've never properly thought about it??? which is weird. also i just have swiss cheese brain oguh

ANYWAY having finallly put some thought into it i have a list:

damian is the little spoon. this is primarily because tim is weirdly possessive of him and does not like to sleep without knowing where damian is

to expand on that, tim usually will not sleep when damian is not around. this has been the cause of mutliple arguements.

they live in the literal shittiest apartment ever because after moving out of wayne manor they get into really shady work and are never home. one would think damian is a spoiled brat who will only have the best with the way he acts, but he can't fucking stand being stuck in one place so he Does Not Care about the place lol

they spend most of their time traveling together! its cute. or it would be, if they weren't both such PRICKS and would stop getting into arguments in public

of course, the traveling-all-the-time thing brings up the question: what about damian's animals? to that i say, they have a private farm setup where he keeps most of them and visits frequently. goliath stays with, because its easier than traveling via plane

they have been thrown out of multiple airports

they have been banned from multiple countries

they have had public sex on at least 5 occasions, and their family is, sadly, familiar with at least 3 of those

them being together definitely caused a rift in their relationships with bruce, which was devastating to tim and kinda meh to damian (he was already disillusioned with his father at this point). neither of them really talk to him anymore. if tim goes to wayne manor, it is alone

obviously, they're completely obsessed with each other. they know where each other is at all times. they communicate constantly. even if they're in the middle of a fight (not uncommon), they still keep an eye on the other's trackers and shit. it would maybe be cute if it wasn't weird as fuck.

tim is controlling. damian is also controlling. they're just controlling in somewhat different arenas, so it mostly works

for example: anytime damian tries to change his deodorant or shampoo, tim freaks the fuck out and changes it back and damian's new ones go missing. if tim deviates from the schedule that damian made for him (think, like, a nighttime routine), damian will lose his shit. hopefully this gets across what i'm saying

and if not, what i'm saying is that they're the fucking worst. dear christ i hate them so much

tim is a weezer fan. sorry, damian.

they ARE capable of being sweet, though. they frequently surprise each other with very personal and thoughtful gifts.

damian's favorite book is 'where the wild things are' by maurice sendak. remember that one line, about loving someone so much you eat them whole? tim got that tattooed between his shoulder blades. it is his only tattoo.

damian meditates every morning. tim meditates at night. if they try to do it together, they inevitably end up fucking.

no, really, tim is a weezer fan and damian fucking hates it. he thinks weezer sucks. he still took tim to see them live several times, and he was miserable the entire time, but he didn't complain once.

whenever they have to go undercover, damian insists that tim take on a female alias. i think you can figure out why.

talia respects tim but does not want damian to date him. honestly, i don't blame her for that. she's tried to have tim killed at least twice.

one time, tim threatened to kill damian and then reanimate his corpse as a perfect lover/puppet situation once during a fight. damian will never admit it, but he jerked off to the idea.

also, he's FOR SURE jacked off to the idea of killing tim

they have burial spots picked out for themselves and a suicide/murder pact. they've fucked on their future graves. also, no one except them know where the spot is.

jason is their biggest supporter. he's also a shithead:)

honestly i could think of more, but this got away from me. i hope this is what you were looking for, at least in some way!!! i like my timdami deranged and terrible<3

[evilwickedme]

This wasn't asked for because nobody in their right mind would ask for this but this is a fic rec list of fics I cannot stop rereading

Just started yet another reread of Inimitable Verse by deniigiq and I fully plan on rereading their into the multiverse series which occasionally crosses over also - this is a Spider-Man/team red focused series, think comics canon infused early mcu-spidey since only homecoming had come out for a non substantial amount of time they were working on the series and the daredevil stuff is explicitly tv show AND comics. Also the multiverse series is how I got into Murderdock and therefore how I got into Spider Gwen

Unpretty's Sorrowful And Immaculate Hearts series which is just a loosely interconnected series of DC fics. My personal favorites are Empty Graves, in which Martha Kent keeps killing time travelers trying to kill baby! Clark; any of their clois fics but especially Third Wheel; and Anti-Social, which is a social media fic mostly about Tim and Bruce that made me cry laughing. Catch Bruce trying to get Walmart's employees to unionize. Also shout out to unpretty's only fic with Jason in it, it looks awesome but is tragically incomplete

This particular Reverse Robin AU which put in the work to reverse every single younger generation and is chef's kiss I LOVE this version of Tim he's wild

Both of Shoalsea's fics are in constant rotation for me I talk about Into The Brighter Night all the time in the tags of reblogs and stuff it truly lives in my head rent free. Anyway Tim gets kidnapped by aliens and the batfam have to watch as yj98 saves him and it's angsty and funny and such a good take on what could have been if the new 52 hadn't happened. And Compassion Builds No House is about Tim and Pru from Red Robin. Ugh they're both so good

Speaking of Clois (I did you've just forgotten this by now) brilliant (like a confession) by kathkin (penny-anna on the hellsite) is so fucking good I'm. Okay. Anyway it'll be listed as inspiration if/when I finally post my two person love triangle fic for them

I'm too anxious to catch up on this before it's done but jumble sale chic is hands down the best spideydevil fic series despite and because of the omegaverse

Make A Little Birdhouse In Your Soul is my favorite take on Jason, period, and has a lot of fantastic Damian stuff going on too. It's updating every few weeks still! Sometimes more often! I love you bacondoughnut it's me JustGail the person who will not stop commenting on your fic you're stuck with me forever

I lied above Rumspringa Murderdock is what got me into Murderdock but that series is second place. I found this one while scrolling through the tv show's mattfoggy tag, thinking I was safe

Speaking of Murderdock mattfoggy, The Lawyer All the Wickedness was written early on in spider-gwen's history and so diverges from canon really early in ways that I think are super interesting and creative

Oh also straight on 'til morning by merils (Tumblr url mamawasatesttube) does SUCH a great job unpacking Kon's trauma and building up healthy relationships around him including a budding timkon romance and yeah it makes me sad and happy at the same time

We're getting into poisonivory territory so just trust if you like the pairing and poisonivory is writing it you'll like it. Ok rapidfire

Like A Handprint On My Heart mattfoggy soulmate au with a twist

Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow? Damijon future fic/au. Jon came back from the future when both of them were 19. Demisexual!Damian at its best. Damian's terrified of being abandoned by Jon again and it made my heart hurt

I feel like I've already recommended every JayRoy fic by poisonivory and genuinely I do reread them all, sometimes in order of publication if I'm in a particular mood. Maybe the one I've read most though is I've Got the Feeling You're the Right Thing After All which is about Roy and Jason starting a fwb thing while Roy still harbors old feelings for Dick. Can't see anything going wrong here lmao

Mmm this post is long enough so I'll leave it at just superhero fic for now but I do in fact have the ability to do a whole post just for the Witcher or Leverage so I might do that. Anyway thanks for following me on yet another burst of insanity it will happen again

[book-place]

Sleigh Ride

Warnings: bad friends, let me know if I missed any :)

Pairings: Damian Wayne x reader platonic

Request: Ok then, can I pls request a batfam x reader (its mainly w damian) who's super oblivious? But they're friends with Damian eventho he's super harsh w her, but she knows he doesn't mean any of it. He had recently invited her to come and celebrate Christmas w him at the manor, but you kindly declined. You said you were going to another friend's house for Christmas. This would've been ok if it wasn't at Patricia's house. He absolutely despises Patricia. Patricia is bratty and always interrupts when you are talking then continues to take you away from him (he always tries his best not to be jealous or fight her). Anyways, the same day he overheard them talking trash about you, and that was his last straw.. So on, Christmas day, he offered to drive you to their house for the Christmas party Patricia was going to be holding. It took you about 3 minutes to realize that it wasn't the Way to her house. You asked where u were going, he admitted it was the way to the manor. After a while of bickering back and forth, you finally caved and agreed to go to the manor

Request by: @ladyagagaslefttoe

*not my gif*

Summary: Damian wasn’t happy when he heard who you were spending Christmas with

A/N: Welcome to Day 10 of Book Places 12 Days of Christmas Celebration

Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work

You hummed softly as you rocked back and forth on your heels, shivering slightly against the cold as you pulled your jacket around yourself tighter.

Your best friend, Damian, had told you he would pick you up for school so that you didn’t have to take the ‘foul smelling and splitting headache giving bus’ as he so kindly put it.

Not that you minded, you enjoyed hanging out with him, especially since it was the last day of school before winter break.

When Alfred’s car pulled into view, you picked your jacket up with a smile and waved at the man in the driver's seat before slipping in the back next to Damain.

“Morning, Dami!” You chirped, reaching over and buckling your seatbelt.

“Good morning.” He replied curtly.

“Thank you so much for the ride, Mr. Pennyworth!” You called excitedly, causing the man to look in the mirror at you with a twinkle in his eye.

“It is not at all a problem, Miss. Y/n.” He beamed.

The car ride was spent in a comfortable silence for the first few minutes with you happily kicking your legs back and forth and the boy beside you staring out the window.

“Come over to the manor for Christmas.” Damian said suddenly, and you looked up at him.

Though it sounded like a demand, you knew better. You had been best friends with the boy for about three years and you knew that though he acted harsh, it was normally just his way of showing he cared.

You frowned a little, “I would love to, Dami, but I already promised Patricia that I would go over to her house.”

His eyebrows furrowed at your words.

If it had been anyone else, any of the other millions of kids at school that you were friendly to, he would have just shrugged it off. But this wasn’t just any other student, this was Patricia.

The same Patricia that Damain had to physically strain himself not to fight. The girl that was always smirking and making rude comments towards you. The one that would always interrupt you when you were talking.

You being the nice- and slightly oblivious- person that you were, you just took it all with a smile, claiming that she didn’t do anything wrong and was your friend.

He set his jaw, “Oh? Is that so?”

You nodded happily, not even noticing the slight change in his demeanor the way you normally would, “Yeah! Oh, it’s going to be so fun! Her whole family will be there, and some of her other friends…”

Damian couldn’t even hear the rest, because if Patricia was bad when it was just the two of you, she was ten times worse when she was with all of her friends.

“… I just have to figure out how to get there because I don’t have a ride-“

Those words snapped the boy out of his small trance and an idea slowly started to formulate in his head.

“I can provide you a ride,” He spoke as casually as he could.

Your eyes lit up in excitement, “Really? Oh, thank you, Dami!” You threw your arms around him in a quick hug, to which he awkwardly patted your back.

Now all he had to do was make sure you didn’t catch onto his plan.

-•-

You watched your shoes as they tapped against the pavement to the small rhythm that you were humming softly under your breath, swaying back and forth a little bit from where you sat on a step of your porch.

It was finally Christmas and you were waiting for Damian to come pick you up to bring you to Patricia’s house.

When the car pulled up, you stood up with a grin, shivering a little bit against the cold and pulling your arms around yourself as you greeted Alfred and slid into your seat.

“Merry Christmas!” You exclaimed, smiling excitedly at your best friend.

He gave you a nod in return, “And to you.” He said.

“Oh my gosh!” You gushed, “It’s going to be so much fun at Patricia’s! And you can come too! Oh, I’m sure she won’t mind, especially since you gave me the ride-“ You cut yourself off as a slight frown pulled at your lips, “Wait, where are we going?” You inquired, turning to Alfred with a questioning expression.

Instead of turning down the street that would take you straight to where Patricia lived, the driver had turned the opposite way.

The man didn’t answer though, Damian did, “You’re not going over her house.” He said simply.

You laughed a little, “Where am I going then?” You thought he was joking and Alfred had just taken a wrong turn.

“To my house.” He replied with a shrug. Of course, he almost never joked.

“Why?” You asked, smile dropping.

“Because, Patricia is nothing but a brat who does not treat you with the respect that you deserve.” His hand was clenched into a knuckle at his side.

“What are you talking about?”

He sighed a little bit, “I’m bringing you to my home to celebrate Christmas with me and my family so that you will actually have a good time.”

“But Patricia-“

“Is always rude to you,” He interrupted, “She’s always interrupting and spitting out mean comments at you.”

Your frown deepened, “I don’t-“

“Think about it,” He said sternly, but not in a mean way.

So you did, silencing a little bit.

The more you thought about it, the more you realized that he was right. She would often change the subject when you were talking about something that interested you and would make snide remarks about your clothing choices.

“Oh,” You breathed out, feeling like an idiot as you looked down at your hands folded in your lap, eyes stinging slightly as they begin to pool with tears.

“You didn’t know,” Damain dismissed, looking you dead in the eyes, and you knew that it was his way of comforting you.

You looked over at him with a grateful smile and squeezed his hand once, “I would love to come over your house for Christmas, it’s going to be a lot of fun.”

The Superior Robin ❤️- @ineedmorefanfics2 @sambucky8 @spidyyparker @i-writes-things

[flowerwritter]

Chapter I - The Weight of Dreams

April 10, 2023 TRICORNER YARDS, Kwon compound - Pyra House I stared at the ceiling of my room, the stars that were glued to the ceiling shone faintly, the sun began to appear through the gaps in the curtain, I took out my cell phone to check the time, it's exactly three in the morning, I lazily got out of bed and looked around my room.

-Pyra, you only slept for two hours, that's not recommended for humans -The computer said.

-Nyx, I know that - I answered in a low voice, feeling my head spinning -Just please don't talk loudly at this time -I opened the bathroom door, taking off my pajamas and throwing them over my shoulder, my underwear in the laundry basket.

I turned on the shower, sending myself under it and feeling the cold water wet my hair, ah that feels good, one of the few sensations that makes me feel alive in this hell. I took a long shower and got out, with a towel wrapped around my body and another in my hair.

I looked around my room, my bed still hadn't been made, my books were scattered all over the floor, my medicines were scattered in random places, and some dirty clothes should have been in the basket, or in the washing machine, I don't remember.

I forced my closet door open after lightly kicking the clothes on the floor aside - Nyx add reminder for me to clean my room today - The little robot on my desk raised its hand, I opened the second drawer and took out a set of underwear and put it on, I took out my cream deodorant and put it on.

I took out my body towel and threw it on the bed, pulling out a cambric that contained my full Gotham Academy uniform, the home of the heirs to Gotham's rotten elite.

Or my case, after much pleading from my stepfather, the school let me take the entrance exam and get 100% of the scholarship, but of course everyone knows that I'm the half-sister of the former prosecutor and current Two-Face.

And of course the whole school hates me as expected

I finished putting on my uniform, a royal blue skirt and vest with the school emblem and a white blouse, black knee socks and the ridiculously social shoes I never wear, opting for my lovely Colcci Tractor boots.

I sat down at my dressing table and looked at myself in the mirror, my dark circles under my eyes felt like I'd come straight out of the tomb on a Halloween night, and my wavy red hair was getting wet, so I combed it and left it loose, knowing that it would get tangled anyway, and just applied sunscreen to my face, since even make-up wouldn't cover it up. And I didn't want to cover up my freckles, so I sighed and got up, picking up my Japanese-style handbag, which my stepfather had given me, which ironically was Korean, he had bought on one of his many trips, left my room and went downstairs, towards the kitchen.

The rest of the two-storey house, with the exception of my bedroom, was perfectly tidy. My father appreciated privacy, so everyone in the family had their own house, but our backyards were interconnected. The patriarch of the family was a doctor who owned one of the recently opened hospitals for the city's low- and middle-income population. I smelled pancakes and smiled, seeing them on my desk with a note on them

-Please Pyra, have breakfast, one of the most important meals of the day

Good morning, from your brother, Kwon-Jae

I sat down at the table and began to munch on those divine pancakes, Jae is Doctor Kwon-Hye's eldest son, and the most attentive “brother” I have.

But I miss Harvey

Swallowing the last of my pancake, I grabbed my helmet and went to get my bike. I'd better get to school early, before the school guard did something to stop me.

Damian was sitting in the car with his arms crossed, Alfred was watching him through the rearview mirror.

-“Mr. Damian, school is a great place to make friends. After the summer break, I hope you'll make an effort to create a social circle,” the butler said as he parked the car.

-“Friends aren't necessary,” Damian said with his eyes closed as Alfred opened the door. The teenager grabbed his bag aggressively and got out of the car. He didn't even have time to take a step as someone passed in front of him at high speed. The person braked his bike and looked back

-I'm sorry, I hope you didn't hurt yourself- -The girl said. She pedaled back into the school.

Damian looked at the ground and sighed, those inattentive people.

Wayne had entered the school, or rather school hell.

Inside the school, the noise was deafening. Damian walked through the crowded corridors, ignoring the curious stares of the other students. He was used to being the center of attention, but that didn't mean he liked it. Being a Wayne had its problems.

Meanwhile, Pyra arrived at school panting and parked her bike. She looked at the school clock. She picked up her backpack and adjusted her glasses, which were falling off, and walked to the school entrance, preparing for another day at Gotham Academy. She kept her head down as she walked through the corridors. She didn't want to attract attention, she just wanted to get through the day without any problems.

With quick steps they both walked to her classroom, Pyra observed the boy who approached the room with her, a new student?

Well, he's going to be spoiled like all the others, so you don't have to worry about him.

[onmyyan]

Endless Again

Chapter One

A/N: This first chapter is just an introduction to (Y/n), Damian and Jon make a short appearance but it's mostly a set up for the rest of the story, feedback is welcome and I hope you enjoy!

TW'S: death (no main characters), canon typical violence

All you wanted was one normal year.

One painfully mundane year where someone wasn't trying to murder you for no reason.

It's all you asked from the universe when you looked up at the stars, anytime you saw one shoot across the dark sky you made sure to make a wish.

It was rare for the twinkling lights to peak through the heavy clouds.

Considering just how insane the past few months have been, you figured you'd long since earned a break.

Gotham was only ever quiet when she wanted to be, one thing you could count on was how the untameable city never truly felt as peaceful as it did in the earliest hours of the morning, the sun having yet to kiss the sky, even criminals got cold, well most of them anyway.

A light blanket of gray covered the brooding city like a hug, its familiar haze brought a warm blossom of comfort to spread out through your chest, it always looked like it was just about to rain, seasoned gothamites could tell if you needed to bother with an umbrella just by the smell in the air.

Your elderly neighbor Edna had told to that one night you'd gone to keep her company, she said she could smell the rain before a drop hit the ground.

Another thing you loved about your city was the constant skin-biting cold wind, it was especially apparent whenever you found yourself outside at this hour, the breeze a welcome sting, no matter how often you went inside shivering, you felt the serenity was well worth it.

You, your Mother Grace, and her older son Peter, all lived in this cozy little apartment in the upper east end of Gotham.

The floor you three lived on was just below the roof, all you had to do to get up there was pop open the triangular window in your room, the landlord had tried in vain to seal it shut with layer after layer of paint, the ledge was so easy to scale, it almost felt like an invitation.

Heights had never bothered you, in fact being up so high you could see the dark waters of Gotham Bay crashing against the docks from where you stood, it made you feel oddly centered, leaning comfortably against the chain link fence, fingers looped through the holes, the metal was quite cold against the heat of your palms, tired (e/c) eyes watched as your breath fanned out in clouds before you.

You didn't know when you'd get the chance to be up here again, so you allowed yourself to take in all the wonderful sights and sounds.

Your neighbor in 4B was walking her dog in the yard, kicking snow over the mess the Yorkie made instead of picking it up, then there was 4D, the sad-looking man always trudged his way to where you could only assume was work, he made sure to pause in his commute if he saw you out, his halfhearted wave was always returned with one of your own.

Your eyes trailed the array of little cuts and scars littering your knuckles, they made you feel tough when you were younger, and still do, to see them and still feel the breath in your lungs meant you were still fighting. No matter how you got them. No matter how often you got knocked down. You had them because you came out of it.

While this was one of the safer neighborhoods in town, Grace still made you sign up for self-defense classes about a week after bringing you home from the adoption agency. It was one of your earliest memories of her.

The 5'3 woman was small in stature but not in presence.

She packed a punch like a bullet, and she always managed to stand comically out of place when she came to your tournaments, Grace often looked as if someone had plucked her straight out of a 50's glamour magazine, blonde waves almost always pinned up in a classy up-do. Her big blue eyes held the warmest look whenever you caught her gaze in the crowd.

She'd be sandwiched between two meatheads with the most obnoxious glittery sign no doubt decorated by herself and Peter the night before, she'd always cheer the loudest, you looked back on the memories fondly, not only did you love the adrenaline of throwing people around, you ended up needing these defensive skills more than you anticipated.

It was like she knew you'd be in trouble eventually and wanted to give you a headstart.

You didn't mind, especially since you'd had to beat the shit out of one too many perverts on the way home more times than you could count, to this day she didn't know how many punks you left bloodied in the streets.

And you intended to keep it that way.

She was a great mom, often working double shifts as an ER nurse, Gotham general was never empty so she always had something to do, anytime you or Peter showed the slightest interest in something you wanted she did anything she could to get it for you, loving you like you were her own, never once making you feel ostracized, she made it abundantly clear she only wanted her children safe and happy.

So when she gave you a rule, it was hard not to follow it, all she asked of you, was that you never let anyone outside the family see what you were capable of.

To this day only she and your older brother were privy about your powers, she knew you didn't remember much from your time before the adoption so she never bothered asking about the nature of your abilities, it was like this weird unspoken rule not to discuss your, oddities. Seemingly just happy to have you as her daughter.

One night, after a long day of dealing with the intolerant little shits at your public school, she'd been trying to comfort you for hours, heartbreaking at the tears in your eye. When you'd stopped crying long enough to ask her for some oddly specific brand of ice cream she knew you adored, Grace, being the bleeding heart she was, folded immediately.

It was just down the street anyway, she figured nothing could happen in the five-minute walk to the corner store she'd made a thousand times before, that was until about five minutes into the outing, you felt the horrible stare on your back and snapped your head around with a startling speed. Both meeting the gaze of the masked man and catching him off guard, there was something in your stare that made him hesitate, but he pushed passed it to continue steadily sneaking up on you both.

You didn't need to read his thoughts to know whatever he intended was vile in nature, you tugged on the small woman's sleeve, and forced her to stop.

"Mama- look." Her head snapped around with a gasp, and she instinctively moved you to stand behind her, using her body as a shield, "Please- don't do something you'll regret alright?- I-I'll give you anything, just don't hurt us."

She started shakily removing her watch when he moved his hand to his belt, the streetlights caught it just right so the glint of steel could be seen tucked into his waist, he continued to stare, breath heavy and eyes wild.

There was this moment, where he just stared at you both, his unruly stare flickering from the mostly empty streets to the seemingly defenseless pair before him, he appeared to have made up his mind, hand reaching for the handle of his knife.

Before Grace could open her mouth to scream for help, Before either of them could think, you'd made your move.

Just as he went to take another step forward, you flicked your little wrist in a circle, body moving on autopilot, not thinking of anything but getting the threat away from your mother, a flash of red glimmered over his glazed-over eyes, you watched in silent awe as he walked himself into the suddenly busy traffic of downtown.

The resulting carnage pulled every car on the block to a screeching halt, as people screamed and began to spectate, Grace could only stare in horror as people began to flood the scene.

She scooped you into her arms, and ran home, her hands holding you tight to her chest, that was the night she'd sat you down before bed, eyes wide with unshed tears.

"Please darling, I need you to swear to me- swear you'll never let anyone see what you can do." Her soft hands held your little face in a tender hold, so you could feel the tremor in her touch as she pleaded with a then 10-year-old you.

Desperately trying to convey her seriousness to you without yelling, she stared you down until you confirmed out loud. "Never Mama." her request was delivered in such a shaken tone you couldn't help but nod your little head, curls bouncing rapidly as you tried to pacify a situation you didn't understand.

Her older son Peter had always been kind to you, having your back in the way older brothers do, even when he couldn't actually do much against them, he did his best to defend you against the bullies, taking the brunt of their viciousness.

Someway, somehow they seemed to smell it on you; like there was a neon sign on your forehead that said oddity, you always wondered how they knew something was different about you.

It was as if something primal told them to keep an eye on you, the same way you watched a wild animal in captivity, just waiting on the day it loses control.

Growing up hiding from your powers was as hard as it was dangerous, every time you got a little too mad at one of your tormenters and all the windows in class shattered, or if you focused a little too hard on a person and they'd get yanked back into the wall by an invisible force, you risked blowing your cover completely, your senses almost always overwhelming you.

Grace had a protective streak which wasn't hard to understand as she had children in the most dangerous city in the states, so you didn't fight her when she asked you to stay home, it's not like you had friends lining up to hang out, you didn't mind, although it did make you have to get creative when it came to hiding stuff.

You took to training your abilities in secret, starting small, you began by lifting all the furniture in your room as high up off the floor as you could until your hundred-pound bed became as easy as lifting your phone, then you moved on to yourself, often getting lost in the floaty sensation it gave you to fly, these were the abilities you'd honed in the best as you could, practicing them at home without being discovered was doable, telepathy was another subject entirely.

Living in a crowded apartment building meant anytime you tried turning it on, all of a sudden it was like a thousand radio stations blaring at max volume in your head.

As much fun as you were having discovering yourself, it seemed the more you trained your abilities, the weirder your life got. You'd spent the last year of high school defending your life from dickhead after dickhead, the would-be assassins only ever struck when you were alone, and seemed to attack more and more, as time went on.

In an effort to deter them, you'd spent the last few years as a homebody, hoping a decrease in public appearances would also slow their assaults, and up until a month ago it was working.

That is of course until someone tried to wrap a wire around your throat when you were doing laundry. You'd accidentally knocked him out cold when you threw him off of you and into the wall, he'd hit it so hard his body left a print.

After tossing him in a dumpster a few blocks away from your home, you screamed into your pillow for a few minutes, that was way too close, and you decided then and there that you had to do something, you wouldn't be able to forgive yourself if anything happened to the people you cared for most.

All that to say, your loving little family, as sweet as they were, still saw you as this helpless little kid who needed someone to hide behind, so you could understand why their fear was near palpable in the apartment the night at dinner, they exchanged looks and silent debates but stayed supportive, both of them absolutely terrified about your departure for Gotham U in the morning.

"Are you sure you can't take some courses online? I read something about that yesterday at brunch." Her voice was shaky as she took your hand over the table. "Ma relax - she's twenty-one years old, she can handle it." Peter was quick to defend you, knowing if his mother had it her way neither of you would ever leave the house.

He shot you a reassuring smile, patting his mother on her arm. "Plus, she knows we got her back, always."

Grace shared a teary-eyed look with her eldest before excusing herself to the bathroom to no doubt cry. Your chest stung at the sight, hating to be the reason the kind woman was upset, but you knew it was for the best.

You couldn't resist the urge to read her mind, flinching at what you felt, you immediately stopped and began messing with your food, your appetite suddenly gone.

"Don't worry about ma- you know how she is, she'll come around." Peter said nudging your shoulder in a light-hearted manner, he was the peacekeeper in the house, "Thanks, Pete."

You said forcing yourself to take a few more bites, finishing the meal in comfortable silence.

That was hours ago, and you could still feel the near-crushing weight of the fear in Grace's heart.

You knew at the root of her fear was love for you, she was just worried for your safety.

Yes, her reaction was intense but it wasn't near as bad as some people got. Before she'd bared you from using them, you used to use your powers like party tricks, nothing too major, just making little things appear or reading someone's mind when they bet you ya couldn't.

Not a lot of folks like knowing you could see them for who they were. When you were younger you could never understand why people got so cold when they realized you weren't lying.

This was another reason you didn't like poking around in people's heads.

It more often than not left you with bruised feelings.

Shaking the thought away, you allowed yourself to be fully swept up in the calm morning, something you felt would be the last for a while, call it intuition, but you had the nagging feeling that despite your wishes for a peaceful, normal freshman year, it would be anything but.

And one of the primary causes of your future chaos was currently trying to sneak his way back inside the Batcave, unsuccessfully I might add.

On the opposite side of Gotham, the city's latest Robin was just then coming in from patrol. He had turned his bike off early, in an effort to be as quiet as he could while he snuck in.

"You were supposed to check in hours ago Damian," Bruce said without looking away from the documents in his hands. Damian winced as his hopes for the older man being asleep were crushed, although he should have known better than to think his Father would be sleeping at a healthy time.

He began removing his tactical gear, carefully placing each one in its proper place while he thought of his careful response.

"You've always told me to finish what I start on the job - now I'm supposed to abandon my post for some arbitrary curfew?"

"That curfew is only in place because I couldn't trust you to remember your new semester, which starts in," His calculating eyes glanced at the Rolex on his wrist, "Less than an hour so I suggest you use what time you do have to shower." Damian turned to curse silently and sped walked his way towards the elevator.

"Before you scoff I'll remind you that had you actually done what we agreed upon instead of trying to work around it by patrolling all night, you'd be well rested."

Damian made his way upstairs silently fuming to himself, he'd been dreading this day for as long as he could remember, he'd had a college-level education since before middle school, and to pretend to need it for the sake of public appearances felt like a waste of time to the young hero, he spent as long as he could in the shower, letting the steam and near scalding water distract him from the soon to be headache that was Gotham U.

The black turtleneck he threw on was more for practicality than fashion despite looking quite good in it, he was really just thinking about wearing something he couldn't bleed through, the cut he'd gained on his latest outing as the Boy wonder had been sloppily patched up in his haste to get ready, it wasn't like him to drag his feet in such a manner, but the youngest Wayne was beyond unmotivated.

Damian made sure to give Ace and Titus a goodbye scratch under their chins as he left, he offered Alfred a wave and leisurely walked to the first car he saw, a shiny black 2022 BMW, he turned the seat warmer on high and flicked the radio on, settling into his routine was just starting to curb his sour attitude when a name popped up on the touchscreen, "Jonathan Kent, why are you calling me so early in the day? Have I not suffered enough?"

He could hear the taller male's laughter in his voice when he responded, "Very funny Damian, you're still coming to pick me up right?" The green-eyed man felt his face drop, he checked his mirrors before whipping the car back around towards his friend's apartment. "Of course, although I still feel it pointless seeing as you can you know, fly." Jon sucked his teeth at his friend, "Psh yeah right, I heard you do that U-Turn, lemme' find out that was illegal and I'm telling your dad."

"I can always leave you where you stand."

"Just kiddin'! Jeez, you're more grumpy than usual, Do you really think it's gonna be that bad?" Damian sighed through his nose, not bothering to respond, "Be ready to jump in because I'm not stopping the car."

"You're messing with me, right? Damian?? Hello?"

[smileyallthetime77]

Yandere!Damian Wayne x Reader Pt.7

⚠️Warning⚠️: Cursing And Paranoia

🇺🇸Word Count🇺🇸: 1,573

👾Characters👾: 8,595

“Me and Cass will get it situated for you”. Steph said as she rised off the bed with Cass shortly following after her. “Sweet dreams Y/n. Let me know if you need anything” Steph said gently, before then walking out with Cass waving you good bye. Tomorrow was going to be a big day, even though it was only day 1.

************************************************

As the birds chirped loudly and the blaring sound of your alarm went of you rised out of the silky sheeted bed Steph had gifted you as a ‘dorm greeting’. You walked towards your closet putting on a white shirt with a blue sweater over it that said ‘Gotham Academy’ in the upper left corner of the sweater. You wore a checkers skirt and Mary Jane shoes. You then entered your shared bathroom and began too brush your pearly white teeth for two minutes and then going to put on some light foundation, mascara, and lip gloss. You then put your books inside of your bag while brushing your hair. This was gonna be great first day! You were sure of it!

Your first class was gym. Exciting to work your ass of first thing in the morning. As you walked towards the gym which was on the bottom floor Jason had caught up with you.

“Hey N/n! I didn’t expect to see you here”. Jason said happily.

“I do go to your school” you giggled back.

“I know, just didn’t expect to see you walking downstairs”. He replied nonchalantly.

“Mhm. Anyway, what class do you have”?

“Gym, you”?

“No way! Same. We also have gym with Timothy, and Damian” he said happily.

“Who’s Damian”? You ask.

“A friend, but I think he’ll really like you”.

As you both walked towards the gym, its beautiful lights flickers on and there in the middle stood all the equipment. They had weights to a track outside to bars to treadmills! There inside stood who you assumed to be your gym teacher, Mr.Dennis.

“Pair up everyone! Each of you need a partner. From there, you will group up with another group of partners. That should total out to be four people in a whole. You will all have ropes tied to your ankles and will run a lap around the track”!

“This is gonna be fun”. Jason said sarcastically under his breath. “Wanna pair up with me, and me, you, Tim, and Damian can be a group”? He then questioned.

“I’d love too”! You said excitedly.

As all four of you emerged into a perfect circle you began to take in the two unfamiliar people and their appearances. Timothy had sharp blue eyes that oddly remind you of someone. He had unbelievable muscles, short jet black hair, and an unbelievable kind smile. Damian was slightly shorter with the same jet black hair, but it was more messier than Tim’s. Damian had sharp green eyes instead of blue, a muscular body, and a very unreadable posture. He seemed almost as though he was trying to hide from your gaze.

All four of you began your walk outside with an oddly comfortable silence. Once you all tied your ankles together in the order of left to right starting with Jason, Damian, you, and Tim, you all stood at the start line readier than ever to kick the others asses.

One!

Two!

Go!

It felt as though you guys were machines. Each running perfectly in sync with one another. You were all in the lead, and before you knew it everyone was cheering. Together, you had all made it too the finish line, and you couldn’t have been happier.

Soon after your whole gym class had finished there work out for the day, you changed into your class uniform and walked out to go and head to your next class, English. As you walked up the stairs to the fourth floor to find room 407, you began to notice the presents behind you. It was Damian. He surprisingly caught up to you and walked with you.

It only began to hit you as you both turned into Mr.Henry’s room, that Damian was in your English and Gym class? What a coincidence. As Mr.Henry introduced himself and the subjects you would be learning about, he paired you up with Damian Wayne. Wow, fate sure wanted you to meet Damian one way or another.

“We’re working on a project”. Damian said while making direct eye contact with you. “We have to pick a book and write a summary on it. We have the rest of the week to write it”. He said blankly. “We’ll! What do you wanna do it on”?! He said like you were suppose to know he was thinking that.

“Oh! Um…. We’ll what books have you read”?

“All” he said blankly.

“Uh huh. Um….. how about “A Good Girls Guide To Murder” (Totally obsessed with this book. I’m currently almost done the second one. #We❤️HollyJackson).

“Fine” he said grumpily.

Once you two began the project, you began to realize how hard working Damian was. He had a perfectly strategy on the essay, as well amazing tough sketches. Once you had both had finished about 1/8 of it in class, you guys agreed to work on it all in class, and if there was any left over work you two would split it and do it before it was due.

But then came the next coincident. You both had math together! And once again, your teacher paired you and Damian together! You couldn’t rap your head around what was happening . Of course the thought popped into your head saying “maybe he’s following you”, but the teacher wouldn’t play along with it. Would they? None the less, it was still a little freaky, but you had Study Hall next, there was no way Damian could follow you there. Or so you thought.

And so, once math ended, you made your way to the library and found a nice, comfy spot with cushions. And when you left math class, you made sure that you walked the opposite direction he was. Once you sat down and started your homework, you can imagine the shock in your face when you looked up and saw Damian fucking Wayne walking into the library! And you knew damn well that he saw you. You just needed to look down, not make eye contact, finish your homework, and then leave to go to your dorm! It wasn’t like he could follow you there. What made it even worse was when he walked pass you and ‘accidentally’ kicked your books. He didn’t even apologize, but he decided to sit at another spot a few feet away from you! God, was he an ignorant asshole or what!

Once you had finished your homework, things didn’t really go as planned. Of course the janitor was cleaning out your room right now. And Damian, decided to be even more of an ass, and follow you to lunch. You prayed to whatever God there was, that Damian wasn’t in the rest of your classes.

When lunch rolled around Damian left you alone, but you could still feel not one, but a few pair of eyes following you around the lunch. Luckily Cass smart talking Jason, and Steph talking to you about boys, drama, jewelry, school work, etc, helped drain out your paranoia.

As you walked away to your L/n class, you then realized Damian was following you. And yet again, the teacher has paired you up. Then history, and it had the same outcome. What the fuck was happening today? But you were too busy with the homework to care about anything else. And now, that the janitor was finally done cleaning, you could hopefully sneak up the stairs, without Damian trying to follow you again. But you weren’t that lucky. Damian had a dorm next to you! What were the chances!

Though on your way up the stairs Damian and you chatted a little bit. Nothing too special, but he did accuse you of following him (jokingly of course)! But when you two began to talk those two minute walk, you began to realize he was tolerable. He reassured you that he wasn’t following you, but that Mr.William’s had suggested that you stay with him in all of his classes. At least now you knew he wasn’t being creepy.

Once you two said your fair wells, you enters the room to see Steph and Timothy making out on the couch!

“Ahem” you coughed loudly while tapping your foot in the marble ground.

“Oh! Hi N/n! This is Tim! My boyfriend, if you couldn’t tell” she laughed nervously.

“Hi” he said awkwardly while smiling by sheepishly.

“Oh! That reminds me, I thought since we saw the sunset last night we could see the eclipse tonight”? Steph said happily!

“Yeah, sure! What kind of eclipse is it”?

“A solar eclipse. My absolute fav”! Steph said as she bounced up and down happily while Squealing and clapping her hands together. Almost like a toddler.

“I’ll let you girls get back to that” Tim laughed out loud as he kissed Steph’s right cheek and then removing his hand from around her waist to walk out the door.

As Steph raced out of the room pulling you with her, you could only begin to think about that chauffeur, that had acted so-so….. weirdly. You just hoped that nothing paranormal was going to happen. Little did you know that this wasn’t going to be about a ghost. But simply some people who you assumed were your friends. But tomorrow was only day 2.

Date: Tuesday, August 22, 2023

[wrencatte]

crime alley loves red hood. gonna put a 3rd fic under that tag i swear it

Duke jumps down from the fire escape, landing silent as a cat. A red bat is painted haphazardly on the door frame in front of him, still dripping with fresh paint. It’s not spray paint – it reminds him of Damian’s acrylic paints. It makes his stomach twist. It’s not the first red bat he’s seen around, but it’s the first time he’s seen one so fresh and not sprayed as part of some mural. It tells him he’s in the right spot, though.

The streets are ghost town-quiet. He can feel his heartbeat in his throat, can hear blood roaring in his ears. The adrenaline is taking its sweet time fading completely, but he’s grateful for it right now. Over that, is the terse back-and-forth between the Bats, which just makes him even more anxious. He doesn’t tell them what he’s found. Not yet. Not when he can see the phantom after-images of Jason staggering down this very alley, someone meeting him halfway.

Instead, he creeps closer to the door and knocks every-so-softly. He waits for a long moment, tension rising to unbearable levels. If he were in their place, he wouldn’t answer so he gets it, but also –

The door creeks open and an eye peers out. Duke smiles comfortingly, half-hero and half-Narrows born. Their gaze flickers to the bat on his chest then squints. He can practically hear aren’t you a daytime hero? – and it’s two in the morning and there’s not even a hint of sun.

But they step back anyway, giving him room to enter the cramped entry way, and letting him see who the assessing gaze belongs to a twelve-year-old dressed in a ratty hoodie and threadbare jeans. They’re worn and wane, hands shoved into her pockets, shoulders hunched. There’s a streak of blood on their cheek like they’d tried to wipe it away – it’s brown and dried now, a single clear line through it from quickly dried tears.

“He’s in the front with my mom,” they say whisper-soft. Now that he’s in the room with them, they’re looking away, curling in on themselves. “It’s real bad but…but it’s not as bad anymore.”

He nods and offers them a better smile, something a little more hero-like. He doesn’t pat them on the shoulder or the head like he wants. “Thank you,” he says as sincerely as possible. Their cheeks flush pink before they hurry towards the door that presumable leads to the aforementioned front.

Duke follows, bracing himself.

Inside is an order woman that looks enough like the twelve-year-old to obviously be their mother. She leaps to her feet, brandishing a can of pepper spray before she clocks him – and then she slumps in relief. Duke sees boots behind her on the bed, unmoving and loose – and he shifts around her to find –

Well, it’s definitely not the worst Jason’s ever looked, he can say that at least.

Jason tracks him from under his lashes, his focus visibly dipping and wavering. His face is pale and drawn, blood mats his hair, streaks from his temple down the side of his face, curtaining a spreading bruise across his face. He’s holding a red drenched washcloth to his stomach even though there’s not enough strength behind it for the pressure to do anything.

The mom’s arms are red to her elbows, her hands red and brown and shaking.

[quillsareswords]

Requests were open? How did I not notice??

Can you do one where the reader is Damian's girlfriend and he sneaks in her room through her window?? You can put anything you like after that I just want the sneaking in part😉

The Intimacy of an Open Window

DAMIAN WAYNE x READER

MASTER LIST in BIO

He's gotta be sneaky. Sneakier than usual, even. He's sure this is your window. It is, isn't it? It must be. Third from the right, sixth from the bottom. He's been sneaking into your room since he was fourteen, nefarious intentions or not.

Still, his eyes feel dry from the lack of decent sleep. There's a slim chance this is your neighbor's window. Again.

So he has be be quiet. He has to go into Robin Mode. In his civvies. To sneak into your window.

Unfortunately, your damned window always sticks when it starts to get cold out.

"That better be who I think it is—and if it is, it better not be."

Damian stops cold halfway in your room. It's 3:23 in the morning. He barely has enough wits about him to remember which window is yours, let alone decipher whatever riddle you just hurled at him. He blinks slowly, left foot still planted on the rusty fire escape and left hand anchoring him to the outside of your window. "What?"

You're laying on your stomach, face turned away from him and pressed into the pillow. He thinks he might have hallucinated it for a moment, until your shoulders shift and roll and suddenly you're up on your elbows, squinting through tousled hair and against the backlight of the full moon.

He cracks a smile, easing his left foot into the room and sliding the window shut with his hand. "Evening, lovely."

"Too early for big words," you gravel, blinking slowly with a creased forehead.

"Those aren't big words," he hums, already shucking his jacket and toeing his sneakers off.

"Shut up, Romeo," you grumble, nestling back down into your bedding like a bear disturbed from hibernation. "Why're you here," you yawn, "anyway?"

He tip-toes around your room to your closet. There, he proceeds to rifle around like a thief on a time constraint and an absolute disregard for subtlety. "The Manor is too loud," he sighs. "Jason is in for the week, apparently. He and Timothy won't stop bickering, and it's putting Father on edge, which shortens his fuse."

You're trying to listen, you really are. But you're so tired and you were having the best dream–

"I'll tell you in the morning," he mumbles, still pulling the threadbare tee shirt he always leaves here while he's kneeling on the mattress.

"I'm not scooting over," you warn, a few disrespectful hairs falling into your mouth in the process. You make a face and limply bat them away.

A breathy laugh. "That's fine, Beloved."

He sorts the sheets out, on both sides, and fishes blindly for the second pillow you undoubtedly knocked into the floor. He narrowly misses your nose when he slaps it next to yours, which is pointless in the end, because you end up wiggling just a bit closer to the ever-comforting smell of his favorite colonge.

He doesn't have to hold you for this to be intimate. He doesn't, in the end. You're already comfortable and he's got enough room, so he doesn't bother with moving you or going out of his way to lay on top of you.

It's an intimate situation all on its own. His residency, his physical home, becomes surrounded by black storm clouds and rumbling thunder, and he knows exactly where to go. He knows exactly where it's safe to hunker down until it blows over. He knows exactly where he's safe.

And he knows he's welcome. He knows it's okay to pop in when he needs the peace he only feels in your vicinity. He knows you'll always be the eye in his hurricane.

It's intimate because it's you. No grand gestures or bold words needed. Just you. Because you're his favorite definition of intimate; familiar, close.

His eyes are almost closed, mind almost sailed out to the endless drift of sleep. He lets his head roll against the pillow, sleep blurred vision centering on you one more time. Your breath is already even against his neck, chin just shy of resting on his shoulder. So pretty, so trusting.

You've set your heart in his sturdy hands, and he wonders when you'll notice that he's slipped his soul into your pocket.

[mochegato]

Calling Dibs

This day was going to be boring, Jason knew that before he agreed to the trip in the first place.  ‘Agreed’ is a generous term.  ‘Relented’ might be a better term. Regardless, he was in Paris for the next week.  He was looking forward to the Louvre and seeing Notre Dame, but he was expected to spend time with his family for a large part of the trip and end with a branch opening party, because those are always so much fun.

He had barely plopped onto the hotel couch when something went flying past the building, crashing into the building down the street in a cacophony of shattered glass and warped metal.  “Holy shit!” Jason yelled, jumping up and running to the window to assess the situation.  The family looked to each other to see if anyone had a better grasp of the situation. Everyone shared the same confounded expression, before running out on the balcony to check out the situation.  

Bruce sighed.  This was most definitely not part of the plans.  This was supposed to be a relaxing week with the family looking at art for Damian, going up in the Eiffel Tower (and preventing him from jumping off) for Duke, sampling French foods and checking out French fashion for Steph, exploring the catacombs for Tim, attending the ballet for Cass, visiting Notre Dame for Jason, and time together as a family for Dick, with just a side of meetings for him.  Superheroing was not one of the scheduled activities.

Bruce opened his mouth to state a plan, but before the words made it past his lips, blurs of red and black swung past them toward the creature that had destroyed the building.  It took more than a few minutes for him to finally close his mouth in a resolute line as they watched the two heroes fight.  Jason’s mouth stayed open in awe as he watched the red figure expertly dodge and strike the creature.  It stayed open until the creature backhanded the red hero into a wall of the building across the street.  

The group flinched in sympathy at the sight, all too familiar with the feeling of getting smashed into a building.  She fell to the ground in a crouch.  Instead of fear, she looked back up with a glare. She jumped away and landed next to her partner in black and seemed to have a conversation before separating. The black hero distracted the creature while she swung further away.  It almost seemed like she had run away until they saw her charge at the creature from the side, hitting circles that decorated its body, shattering them like mirrors as she went.  With each hit the creature seemed to deflate more, until she hit the last one, a black butterfly emerging from it.  

She captured it in her yoyo and released it almost instantly as a white butterfly.  She called something out and threw her yoyo up into the air.  As soon as she did, a pinkish red wave rushed across the city and suddenly all the damage they had watched with their own eyes, was reset to its previous condition.  

They stared, mouths agape again, trying to take in everything they saw.  Finally the silence was broken by Jason.  “I call dibs!”

“What!” Dick exclaimed.  “You can’t just call dibs on someone.”

“I just did,” Jason scoffed.  “I call dibs on the red badass.  You can have the cat one.  Follow B’s footsteps, protégé.”

“You don’t even know if she’s straight.  What if she’s into girls?” Stephanie objected. “Maybe they both are.”

Jason stared at her for a second before his eyes narrowed.  “Fine. But if she’s anything other than a lesbian or ace, I have dibs.  And the cat one is up for grabs.”

“Oh, I’ll grab,” Steph smirked.

“Fine, whatever,” Dick groused, crossing his arms over his chest and looking away.  “Wasn’t looking for romance this trip anyway.”

“Your libido is not the priority right now. Father, did you bring us here for this?” Damian demanded.

Bruce kept his eyes on the spot where the creature had been a few seconds earlier before turning into a distraught woman. “No, I had no idea.  But now that we know, let’s investigate.  We’ll find out as much as we can from outside sources and try to meet up with the heroes when we can.  If they have a regular patrol, we can try to meet them somewhere. If they don’t, we might have to try to show up discretely at the next attack.”  He observed the people below already returning to their normal jobs. “It doesn’t seem like this is too out of the ordinary for everyone, so I don’t think we’ll have to wait long.”

He wasn’t wrong.  In fact, they only had to wait until the next night for another akuma to strike.  As soon as the akuma was dealt with, they caught up with the Parisian heroes, though in hindsight, they perhaps should have announced their presence a bit more clearly, judging by the way Red Hood was hanging upside down off the side of the building they were on.

“Sorry again,” Ladybug grimaced as she helped pull him back onto the roof.

“No, we shouldn’t have snuck up on you,” Red Hood assured her.  “I was just struck too speechless by you to give you a better warning.”

Ladybug blinked at him a few times before turning to the rest of the group and motioning toward Red Hood helplessly. Chat gave her an amused smile. “She tends to have that effect even on the best of us.”

“As Red Hood said, we should have announced our presence more plainly.  We likely would have reacted the same if you had snuck up on one of us,” Batman said, taking a step forward.

“We just wouldn’t have looked as kick ass doing it,” Red Hood added, leaning toward Ladybug.

Ladybug raised an eyebrow at him, but allowed him to move closer to her.  “Well, you certainly didn’t look ‘kick ass’ falling like that,” she smirked at him.

“I’ll work on how I look when falling, then.  I have a feeling I’m going to be falling a lot for you.”

Ladybug narrowed her eyes at him and puckered her lips in an unsuccessful effort to keep them from quirking up.  Red Hood’s chest puffed up almost imperceptibly at the sight.  Ladybug’s eyes darted over to Batman and back to him.  “First, I don’t think you came all the way to Paris just to hit on me.  I believe we have other things to talk about. Second, if you’re going to hit on someone, take off the helmet.  It’s rude. I can’t read your expressions at all. It puts me at a disadvantage.”

Red Hood quirked his head to the side. “Can’t take the helmet off. Secret identity, you know?  B would kill me.  If he didn’t the squirt there,” he motioned toward Robin, “would try. But trust me, if you saw my face, you’d swoon.  And I assure you, I would have come all the way to Paris if I’d known you were here waiting.”

“But we didn’t know you were here,” Batman cut in harshly.  He placed a hand on Red Hood’s shoulder and pulled him back with the others.  “We were unaware there was a supervillain in Paris. We’d like to offer assistance, ours and the Justice League’s, but first we should introduce ourselves.  I’m Batman.  That’s Spoiler, Black Bat, Signal, Robin, Red Robin, Nightwing,” he motioned to each of them in turn as he said their name.  “And you’ve met Red Hood.”

Ladybug and Chat nodded to each of them as Batman said their names.  “It’s a pleasure to meet you all.  I’m Ladybug. This is my partner Chat Noir.”

“Sorry, we didn’t bring our full team.  We would have if we’d known there was going to be a party,” Chat smiled disarmingly.

“We’ll be sure to let you know next time,” Spoiler grinned back at him.

“Can we sit down with you sometime to discuss the situation?” Red Robin interrupted whatever Chat was about to respond with. “It doesn’t have to be tonight, but we weren’t planning on staying in town too much longer.  Not that we haven’t been enjoying our time here.  And we’ve definitely enjoyed watching you work. You have got some really good moves.”

“Oi,” Jason interrupted, smacking him in the shoulder.  “I called dibs.”

“Dibs?” Ladybug quirked her head to the side and scrunched up her nose in such an adorable way Jason let out an almost inaudible choke.  Quiet enough that only Red Robin, letting out an almost as silent scoff, and Chat Noir, with his enhanced hearing, heard him.  Chat zeroed in on him with a knowing smirk.  He rested his arm on his baton and got into a comfortable position leaning against it, waiting for the entertainment.  “What is ‘dibs’?” Ladybug continued, oblivious to the dynamic between the three.

Chat’s smirk grew.  “Dibs, M’lady, is when you claim first rights to do something.”

Ladybug stared at him for a few seconds as she put together what he was implying.  Her head whipped around to Red Hood.  Her face was furrowed in an offended scowl.  She pointed to herself.  “Am I the thing you’re going to do first?”

Jason jerked back at the suggestion as Chat Noir and the rest of his family, sans Batman and Robin, started laughing.  “No! No, no, no.  No. Not… No.”  He waved his arms desperately.  “Not that.  I…”  He took a breath and glared at his family to get them to shut up, expecting them to know he was glaring harshly under his helmet.  “I just get to be the first to try to impress you.”

Ladybug rolled her eyes.  “You want to impress me?  Do something impressive.  And I don’t date as a superhero, so you’re going to have to impress civilian me. Good luck with that.”

Chat gave Red Hood a patronizing grin.  “You’re going to need it,” he singsonged.  He looked back and forth between Ladybug and Red Hood a few times, his eyes sparkling with mischief.  He swung his baton over his shoulders and rested his arms over it.  “But then again, she is the embodiment of luck so, maybe she just gave it to you.”

Ladybug’s head whipped back to him and she narrowed her eyes at him in warning.  He smiled innocently back at her as if he hadn’t just been meddling in her love life… again.  He needed to meddle in his own instead.  Although, with the way Spoiler kept eying him, maybe it was already taken care of. “Anyway,” she said loudly, bringing the focus back to the topic at hand.  “Tonight isn’t good.  We both have early mornings tomorrow.  But tomorrow night should work.  How about meeting here tomorrow at 22h?”

“Okay, now that that is settled, I have a very important question,” Spoiler spoke up.  Signal groaned next to her, preparing for whatever her question was going to be.  “Where is the best place to get some French treats?” Batman let out a deep sigh. “What!  I came to France to eat amazing French food and shop French fashion. They live here.  They should know the good places to go.”

Chat straightened up immediately and sent Ladybug a feral grin.  “You don’t say…”

“Chat,” Ladybug hissed warningly.

“They’re just asking for advice,” he answered in his most exaggeratedly innocent voice he could muster.  “You wouldn’t want to deprive them of the best food in Paris. Would you, M’lady?”  The devilish grin in his eyes was a complete contrast to the innocent voice.  He turned back to the bats, the picture of politeness.  “The absolute best place to get pastries in Paris is Tom and Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie on Rue Gotlib.  It’s amazing.  I recommend trying… everything.  And it just so happens their daughter is one of the most amazing designers in… anywhere.”

Spoiler grinned at him.  “A man after my own heart.  Thanks, Kitty Cat.  I’ll take that under advisement.  And do you also frequent there?”  

Chat blushed slightly and looked away quickly, but not before Ladybug saw the reaction and smirked at him.  “Yes, he does,” she assured Spoiler.  “He frequently frequents there.”

“And what about you?” Red Hood interjected, leaning toward Ladybug again, much to Batman’s chagrin.

“Are you kidding?  She’s the reason I found it in the first place.  I swear she’s there daily,” Chat grinned.

“Ooh, Kitty Cat, you sure know the way to a girl’s heart,” Spoiler purred at him.  Chat’s cheeks burned red, but didn’t look away from her this time.

Ladybug pursed her lips in annoyance at his romantic interference but quickly smoothed out at the sight of his blush.  A smile was back on her face when she turned back to the Bats, eyes lingering a bit longer on Red Hood before moving to Batman. “Anyway, we will see you again tomorrow. But Chat, maybe you should get an idea of what Spoiler likes so you can bring treats for her to the meeting tomorrow.  I have to go though.”  She waved at the bats before turning to Chat with a wink.  “Have a good night.”

Red Hood stepped forward before she jumped away. “You don’t want to know what I like for tomorrow?” he asked huskily.

She looked up at him with a sultry smirk.  “Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea of what you like.  Sweet dreams.”

Red Hood watched her jump away.  “Oh they will be,” he whispered to himself.

<><><><><> 

Marinette had been apprehensive all morning.  Every time the bell above the door rung, she braced for the bats.  She let out a relieved breath as a man walked in by himself.  She wasn’t positive, but she was pretty sure the group would come in together.  She wasn’t sure why she knew that, but somehow she was confident of it.  The man blinked a few times at her before smiling charmingly at her.

And damn if that smile couldn’t melt ice.  She let out another breath, this one to calm her cheeks.  She smiled at him, warmer than her regular customer service smile.  “Can I help you, monsieur?”

“Do you, by any chance, have a bowl or something I can put some water in?” he asked awkwardly in barely accented French.  The cocked head and curious look Marinette gave him prompted him to continue.  “I wanted to… there’s this stray dog outside and he looks like he needs some water.”

American, she noted… with dimensions roughly matching Red Hood’s.  And oh God, those muscles weren’t just the suit.  Well fuck.  Guess she did give him some luck after all.  “Of course he’s fucking Adonis hot,” she muttered under her breath, but apparently not quietly enough.  He smirked at her and chuckled.

Marinette’s eyes snapped up to him and she blushed furiously at having gotten caught.  She took a deep breath and smiled back at him.  “Blonde with a dark stripe down his back?”  He nodded at her, a surprised look on his face.  “That’s Éclair.  He’s a local stray.  An absolute sweetheart.  Here, let me get the bowl I usually use for him.”  She rushed to the back and came back with a filled dog bowl and some pancetta. “Can you give him this too, please?  I usually do, but I’ve been stuck inside most of the morning.”

He gave her another ice meltingly brilliant smile and nodded in thanks.

She tensed at the next man who walked in, not really knowing why she was apprehensive.  Red Hood was already there.  She gave him her customer service smile even as her eyes darted out the window to watch Red Hood feeding Éclair.  She could imagine the hearty laugh he let out when Éclair leaped up to lick his face.  She smiled at the sight.  

“Excuse me,” the man stepped into her line of sight.

She immediately turned to focus on him, regretfully tearing her eyes away from Red Hood and Éclair.  “Yes, monsieur.  Sorry about that.  How can I help you?”

The man looked her up and down and leaned toward her. “I was looking for something sweet. Maybe you could help me.”

She cringed internally, but gave him a strained smile as she leaned away.  “Of course, sir.  We have a lot of sweet treats.  Maybe you can look over the petit fours, éclairs, macarons, and tartlets.  Let me know if you have any questions.”

“I have a question already,” the man gave her a leering smile.  “Are any of the treats as sweet as you?”

She gave him a flat look and took a step back. She almost missed the door chime ringing.  “I assure you, monsieur, you would find me far from sweet. Let me know when you’re ready to order.” She turned away and started wiping the counter instead.

Red Hood took the opportunity to step up to her and pass the bowl back to her.  “Thank you. He looked very happy after the treats.”

Marinette blinked at him a few times and looked down at the bowl unmoving for a few seconds before the reason clicked for her. “Right,” she answered, louder than she meant to, as she took the bowl.  “Can I get you anything?”

“What do you recommend?” he asked as he moved to block the other man’s line of sight to her.

She smiled appreciatively at him.  Maybe he was impressive after all.  “You looking for something sweet or savory?  We have great bread, but if you’re looking for a treat, I would recommend an assortment of eclairs.  It just seems apropos.  Honestly, I think it’s all good, but I’m a bit biased.” She leaned in as if confiding a secret and winked at him.  

He chuckled and nodded.  “That is definitely something to consider.”  He side eyed the other man in the store.  “I’ll take a look around I think.  Figure out what it is I want.”

Marinette nodded and gave him an understanding smile. She turned to the other man.  “Have you decided, monsieur?”

The man made a show of looking around.  “Are you on the menu?  Because I definitely know what I’m interested in,” the man answered, leering at her again.

Marinette gave the man a flat look.  It was not the first time she’d heard the line.  She didn’t get it as much as waitresses, but still, it was a tired line… from a married man… that she had already turned down. “No, sir.  I’m not on the menu,” she answered curtly, “because we are not a brothel, which are illegal in Paris, I might add.  However, a quick internet search will direct you to the areas of the city where you can find that kind of menu items.  If you would like one of the pastries, please let me know which ones you would like, otherwise, please leave.”

“I’m not good enough for you, but you’ll flirt with him,” he motioned toward civilian Red Hood.

“First, I get to choose who I’m interested in and that isn’t you.  Second, he,” she motioned toward civilian Red Hood, “called dibs on flirting with me.  Now either order or leave.”

The man huffed and left, trying to slam the door on the way out.  The door closed with a gentle thud.  Marinette rolled her eyes.  “Sorry about that, monsieur.  Are you ready to order?”  She sent him an apologetic smile.

Jason stared at her for a few beats trying to figure out if her previous words meant anything.  She could have just said that because the guy was an asshole.  It could be a coincidence.  And her partner could have sent him here purely because they had really good food.  “Oh, um… what do you recommend I take?” he asked again absentmindedly, his mind still on how likely it was that it was all a coincidence.

Marinette smiled innocently at him.  “Me out.”

Jason looked at her wide eyed.  “What?”

“You asked what I recommended you take.  I recommend you take me out,” she shrugged nonchalantly, but the grin was devilish.

Jason opened his mouth and closed it again. “Any other day, beautiful.  Any other day I’d say yes, but I’m kind of working on someone else and I’m a one woman man.”

Marinette looked at him for a few seconds, a brilliant smile beaming at his response.  

“Thanks for helping out, Sweetie,” her mom called coming from the back room.  “I think we have it covered now.  Oh,” she looked up at Jason, then at Marinette’s smile, and back to Jason. She smirked at the two.  “I think you should be able to take off now, get to your real job.”

Marinette nodded and took her apron off, stowing it under the counter.  “Thanks, Maman.” She leaned up and kissed her cheek before making her way around the counter. Jason turned to her as she walked out, watching her as she moved.  She paused a few feet in front of him.  “I have to admit, you impressed me after all.”  

She smiled sweetly at him before moving to the door.  She turned back at the last second, twirling to face him.  “But you flirted much better with the helmet.”  She winked at him and disappeared through the door.

Her mom chuckled before clearing her throat. “Anything I can help you with, dear?”

Jason turned to her blankly, still processing what Marinette had said, after a second he smiled and rushed to the door.  “No, thank you ma’am.  I have some dibs to collect on.”

Tags:

@jasonette-july-event @maribatserver

[jinmukangwrites]

@damianwayneweek 6 (6-18): Baby Damian | Family bonding | First crush

Warnings: none

Notes: Short, sweet, barely edited cuz it's 1am. Please enjoy some de-aged Damian and frazzled Dick. Yes I'm back on my Damian and Dick bullshit. I just love them so much.

-o-o-o-o-

Three days, according to Zatanna. The magic that hit Damian isn't permanent, and should wear off on its own within three days.

Dick already doesn't know what to do with himself. He was hardly prepared to take over and raise a ten year old, let alone a toddler.

But here he is, sitting in the manor living room watching as a small version of his already little brother toddles around on chubby baby legs. He can't be more than two. He can walk around on his own well enough—though Alfred did block off all of the stairs in the manor anyways—and every so often he'll point at something and say... Something that sounds like a demand.

Dick wasn't really ever good with understanding baby gibberish. It doesn't help that Damian seems to have reverted in memories as well... so the things he's demanding probably aren't in English as it's not his first language.

Damian wobbles up to Dick, holding out a toy train that Alfred dug out from the attic that used to belong to Bruce. Dick takes it and thanks him, but Damian pays him no mind and returns to his toys, babbling about something only he understands.

It's so weird seeing him like this. All small, chubby, soft, and bright eyed. Dick doesn't know everything Damian has gone through... growing up in the League... and as much as Dick dislikes Talia, he knows she was the best mom she could be to him. She's raised him to be a smart, strong young man, and taught him to be able to protect himself in his dangerous surroundings... and of course Dick has known Damian long enough to have gotten through his walls and see the wonderful boy underneath, but as he watches this toddler squeal as another toy train turns on and runs on its own...

He cannot help but mourn the child Damian could have been. Should have been if every child in the world had the privilege of growing up in a safe home and no worries besides homework.

He shakes his head. He cannot think like that. Whatever child Damian could have grown into if he hadn't been raised by the League is still in there. Just a bit harder to bring out. Dick can feel himself getting closer every day.

Damian notices him shaking his head and makes a curious ah sound. He walks over to Dick, lifting his arms, and Dick assumes he wants to be lifted. He smiles at the kid and grabs him under the armpits and lifts him into the air perhaps a bit quicker than what he was expecting. The kid screeches as Dick lifts him over head and let's go for just a moment to catch him and bring him back down to his face.

Damian scowls a familiar scowl and hits Dick on the nose with his stubby little fingers.

"Bah," he scolds, and a laugh bursts from Dick's throat.

Yup, Damian is still in there.

-o-o-o-o-

"I'm beginning to understand why B adopted all of us when we were already in elementary," Dick complains as baby Damian screams in his wooden high chair—yet another thing dug up from the attic that probably belonged to Bruce.

Alfred hands Dick a rag with a smirk. The thrown bowl of mac-and-cheese is all over Dick's shirt.

"Master Bruce always had a tenderness for infants," Alfred replies as he uses another rag to wipe off the still screaming and complaining Damian. "He always found joy in finding whatever excuse he could to hold and play with a baby. We used to go to a church when he was still a child himself, and there was a woman there without a husband who would always bring her infant. He would always offer to hold the child for her during the sessions to give her a break."

There's a twinkle in his eye when he looks over at Dick. "I imagine that if this had happened to you, or your other siblings, when he was still around, he would have loved every second of it. Food throwing, tantrums, and all."

Dick can't help but smile. He looks over at Damian who's now kicking his legs and waving his now clean hands in a fit. "Still, I wonder what's making him so mad."

"He might not like the taste," Alfred says, "or the texture. Perhaps some experimentation is due."

After some expiration and a lot of screaming through baby lungs that couldn't possibly hold that much air, they find that Damian really likes tomato soup, apple sauce, and broccoli.

-o-o-o-o-

"Master Dick," Alfred speaks up on the first evening while they were showing Damian Pooh's Heffalump Movie. Dick was relaxing and watching the movie, trying to remember if he's seen this one or not, while Damian was on the floor playing with an old kitten stuffed animal.

"Yeah?" Dick asks. He looks over at Alfred, only to see Alfred raise an eyebrow down at Damian. Dick follows his look, then his stomach drops when he finds that under the recently shopped for infant clothes, is a full looking diaper.

Dick looks back up at Alfred.

"Please, god, no."

Alfred drops a diaper, a bag of wipes, and a cloth into Dick's hands. "Good luck, sir."

-o-o-o-o-

Dick's about to lose his mind. He did everything Alfred told him to. He read a bedtime story—Where the Wild Things Are, as it was Dick's personal favorite as a child. He made sure his diaper was clean. He turned on some white noise. He even gave him Zitka. Yet, everything he did, Damian would scream and sob in his borrowed crib until Dick picked him up and started to sing the lullabies sung to him as a child. He sings the ones from his own native language, and even though there's no way Damian understands Romani, the kid calms down and reduces to exhausted little hiccups and almost seems to fall asleep with his little fingers curled in Dick's shirt.

And the second Dick puts him down, the crying rekindles.

Dick doesn't know what to do. Damian cries and cries until he's held and sung to, but Dick can't hold and sing to him all night. He paces Damian's room, bouncing the aforementioned kid-turned-infant in his arms, mumbling tunes to whatever lullaby decides to leave his lips.

Alfred told him he has permission to wake him up if he needed anything with Damian through the night, but Dick can't bring himself to. Alfred already works so hard during the day and night, keeping the manor in shape and making sure Dick doesn't get himself killed during patrol... He shouldn't have to be relied on to take care of a grumpy baby that won't go to sleep.

No, no Dick can handle this. Damian is calm when he's held and sung to, so that's what Dick will do. He walks to the cradle and pulls out Zitka, then goes to his own bedroom to sit on his bed and holds Damian close to his chest, singing and bouncing him gently.

Eventually, Damian goes completely still against his chest, snoring slightly, but Dick's too fearful to risk anything now. He stops singing though, resorting to simply holding Damian and trying to keep his own eyes open.

He fails, but he wakes up in the morning with Damian laying on his chest, still fast asleep and drooling all over his shirt.

Dick doesn't look a gift-horse in the mouth. He shifts into a better position, then allows them both to sleep in a little longer.

-o-o-o-o-

Alfred discovers the problem quickly when Dick tells him how hard it was to get Damian to sleep. Turns out, Damian's teething. By noon, Alfred had returned from the closest grocery store with a few tools to help with that. He puts a few water filled plastics into the fridge, then gives Damian one to chew on in the meantime. And chew on it, Damian does. He gets slobber everywhere, but at least he's no longer so upset, especially once a cold one is exchanged into his grubby little hands.

-o-o-o-o-

"That's absolutely adorable," Barbara says over the phone. Dick's just finished sending her a massive amount of pictures he's taken of Damian after taking him outside to play in the backyard with the dogs. He's sent her the pictures mostly because he needs people to see how cute Damian is while trying to tackle a dog twice the size of him... but also partly because he gets the feeling once Damian's back to his normal age, he will make sure all evidence of this is destroyed.

Barbara is someone Dick's sure can keep pictures hidden in a safe place... just in case Dick wants to see them again after lying to Damian he deleted them.

-o-o-o-o-

Dick's beginning to understand why people like babies. Like, they're cute, yes. The sounds they make are cute sometimes too. The things they find funny are usually very goofy and enjoyable to watch. Their laughs are contagious, and their babbles are enjoyable to try and decipher...

But nothing beats watching them sleep, curled up against your chest. Full trust in you that you'll keep them safe. It's nap time, and instead of trying to peel Damian off from him and put him in the crib, he's decided to just let the kid pass out in his arms and use the opportunity to take a nap himself.

Apparently it's bad to always let babies sleep with you, but Damian's not going to be this small forever. Might as well enjoy holding him like this in pure peace while he can.

-o-o-o-o-

It seems Zatanna was generous with her prediction, as he wakes up with his breath being knocked out of him. Damian, his rightful age and dressed in his full Robin uniform, scrambles off of Dick's chest. It's all knees and elbows, and Dick's left rubbing his ribs as Damian pats his body, as if making sure he's really a 10 year old boy and not an infant.

"Good to have you back," Dick grunts, rubbing his eyes and holding back a grin.

Damian whirls on him and points an accusing finger. "I don't remember what all happened," he hisses, "but you will delete any photos immediately."

Dick bursts into laughter, grabbing Damians pointed hand and tugging him into a proper hug. Damian squawks just a little, but relents when Dick squeezes him tighter than what he would to an infant. Yes. This feels right. Baby Damian was cute and cuddly, but he really missed the prickly attitude of this rascal.

"Okay," he says, releasing his charge. "I'll delete the photos, after we tell Alfred you're back and you've changed out of the suit."

Damian huffs and nods. "That was horrible."

"I don't know, I thought it was fun," Dick teases. Damian glares at him and Dick grins back.

Yeah, he missed his kid.