#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

[rambling-at-midnight]

When the Truth Comes Out

Request: Reader asks, "So, when are you going to ask me to marry you?" I hope I did your prompt justice!

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Summary: It’s been three and a half years since Jason asked you out, and he knows you’re the one. He knows every part of you, the good and bad, and loves it all. The problem is that you don’t know everything about him… and his secrets may ruin everything.

Word count: 3.5k

Jason’s never been one to window shop, but lately he’s been noticing the glint of jewelry.

You give him a weird look when he stumbles in the middle of the department store. It’s because a ring display caught him off guard like a punch to the gut, but he can’t explain that, so Jason waves off your concerned questioning.

You give him a weird look before turning back to the toy aisle. The two of you spent the morning bickering over what present to give Damian for Christmasukkah. You want to give him a keyboard to learn piano, but Jason’s sure that Damian would be happier receiving an art kit. He knows violin, which is a strings instrument, not whatever the piano is. Besides, the kid’s a brat. He’d want a full-size grand piano that originally belonged to Mozart or some shit and costs a hundred thousand dollars, which isn’t exactly pocket cash for the two of you.

And, sure, Jason’s got one of Bruce’s credit cards in his wallet—Bruce offered to give him one in Jason’s name, but it was the principle of using the stolen card, so Jason turned him down—but he’d be damned before he spoiled the kid any more than he already is.

He keeps his eyes firmly on you after that. It’s where they’re supposed to be, anyway.

You end up getting the keyboard after surreptitiously checking your bank account against your projected budget several times. It’s funny. After three years, you still think you can hide stuff like that from Jason. Probably because he pretends not to notice. He makes a mental note to stop by your landlord’s and see if the Red Hood can make any suggestions about lowering rent for your building.

As the two of you walk out of the store, a cold gust of wind tries to steal your breath away. You step closer to Jason, cold fingers twining with his, and he easily drapes an arm over your shoulders to keep you close. “Was that the last one?”

“I think so,” you reply, checking your list again. “The keyboard for Damian, massage gun for Dick, matching pajamas for Cass and Steph, Pokemon expansion pack for Duke, and the fuzzy socks for Tim.”

The socks are decorated with the words ‘I BREACHED CONTAINMENT’ in black stitching. Jason saw them in a tourist trap he saved from a D-list rogue and remembered how Tim looked like the bog monster after falling into the sewers the day before. They’ve been sitting in his closet since the end of August.

“I have too many siblings,” Jason sighs.

“Have you figured out what you’re giving Bruce?”

Jason bites his lip.

You say, “Ah. Well, you still have a couple days.”

Yeah. Jason has two. He’d been supposed to look out for anything to catch his eye in the store, but all he noticed was the stupid ring display.

He opens the car door for you, then shoves the keyboard in its box into the backseat and starts the engine. Jason drives home one-handed. The other holds yours loosely over the console. You’re checking your bank account again on your phone, frowning slightly, thumb brushing up and down Jason’s palm. He keeps an eye on you as he drives, playing idly by squeezing your fingers one by one until you have to try to hide a smile by looking out the window. 

He doesn’t let go of your third finger. Something nags at the back of his mind, like—

Jason realizes that he’s trying to find a ring, and his heart stops. The car jumps forward when he slams on the gas, and he drops your hand to put both of his on the wheel as he swerves around a minivan. You let out a startled yelp, hands flying out for something to grab onto. The stupid keyboard slides off the back seat and into the footwell.

Two cars lay on their horns when he nearly sideswipes them. Jason responds with an emphatic middle finger and cuts across three lanes to get away. The poor car doesn’t respond as well to his driving as his motorcycle does, and the engine whines as he leaves the other cars in the dust until he eases off.

As soon as the car reaches a relatively normal speed, you say, “Jay! What just happened?”

“Sorry,” is all he can say, keeping both arms stiff on the wheel. “Sorry, honey.”

“You okay?”

“‘M good. You good?”

“I’m okay, I was just…” You keep looking at him, and Jason’s skin prickles. Do you know? Can you tell?

Jason creaks like old wood, but he pulls back his right arm and puts his hand on the console, palm up. After a moment, you put your left overtop it. He can feel your pulse racing through the thin skin of your wrist.

He squeezes.

You squeeze back.

The day before Christmas, Jason still doesn’t know what to give Bruce. He’d hoped that baking would fix the block, but as he abuses the poor sopapilla dough, he’s no further to any answers.

You’re at the counter, offering moral support but not physical help. Jason’s a bit of a control freak in the kitchen when he’s anxious.

He’s not anxious. He’s not! It doesn’t matter if he gives Bruce something for Chrismukkah. Bruce doesn’t even celebrate Christmas. ‘Not trying to kill him’ is probably a good enough present.

Or the sopapillas. Sure, everyone’s bringing a dish, but no one said it couldn’t also be Jason’s present. But if he goes that route, then the pastries have to be perfect, and the last batch didn’t fluff up the way they did when Catherine made them.

“Jay,” you say after another five minutes of Jason punching dough that is already thoroughly kneaded.

“Yes, love?”

“I think the oil might be ready.”

Judging by the hiss and pops behind him, it is, and has been for several minutes.

Jason tries his best to follow his mother’s actions through his memory, but this batch doesn’t turn out right, either.

“Here,” he says wearily, placing the overflowing plate in front of you. “Let ‘em cool off.”

You wait as long as you can, fingers drumming on the counter as you watch tiny curls of steam drift up from the pile of pastries. Finally, you give in. “Oh my gosh,” you say around a mouthful that was a little too hot, judging by your wince. “Jay, these are amazing.”

“It’s not right, though,” he argues.

“Jay, I didn’t even think it was possible, but these are better than your last batch.”

He shakes his head stubbornly.

“Well, we’ll keep working on it,” you decide. “But really, if you bring these tomorrow, no one will complain. If they do…” You hold up a fist and shake it, mustering up (what you think is) a ferocious scowl.

Jason’s lips twitch. “What if Damian complains? Are you prepared to hit a child?”

“I can’t believe you would even ask me that,” you say. “I live in Gotham. I’ve been waiting for that moment my entire life.”

Despite himself, Jason laughs. He picks up one of the pastries from the dish and bites into it. They could have used more honey. Maybe that was the problem. But you’re right. These are good, and if they’re not, so what? It’s not like Bruce expects much from him anyway.

Jason’s chest squeezes.

Bruce should just be grateful that Jason is there at all.

Fuck.

It’s getting too hard to deny. Despite all his best efforts, Jason has to admit… maybe he does love his family.

It’s the first holiday season where he hasn’t been incandescent with rage toward one of them or another, and he’d underestimated just how nervous he would be. Despite everything that happened between them, he wants tomorrow to go well. The first night of Hanukkah is the same day as Christmas this year, which hasn’t happened for about twenty years. It’ll be Damian’s third Chrismukkah and the first where everyone is in attendance—Jason wasn’t on speaking terms with the family his first year, and Bruce was in the time stream and Tim was across the world last year.

“Hey, Jay.”

“Hmm.”

You swallow without making eye contact, and if he was paying even a little bit more attention, he would have known to prepare himself for what you said next.

“When are you gonna ask me to marry you?”

Jason is a selfish asshole. It’s a miracle that you haven’t figured that out yet after three years of dating him. He half-expects to come back to the apartment to find his stuff in bags. That’s the main reason he’s still out in the cold.

He’s in the middle of another drag when a teasing voice says from behind, “Ooh, must have been a rough day.”

Jason’s hand twitches for his gun, but he recognizes the voice. So he only rolls his eyes and says around the cigarette, “What do you want?”

“Your partner asked me to check up on you. Apparently you looked pretty freaked when you took off.”

Fuck. Jason groans. “How worried did they seem?”

“Ummm….”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, you kind of messed up.” Spoiler sits next to him, dangles her legs over the side of the roof, and lets them swing idly. “Or they messed up. I thought you quit smoking?”

He exhales a thick plume of smoke. “I did,” Jason says. Dying from smoke inhalation was bad once, but a habit is a habit.

“If it makes you feel any better, they seemed more concerned about you. Not, like, mad or anything.”

Well, that’s something.

“So what happened?”

Jason grunts. Maybe if he stares into the horizon long enough, Spoiler will give up. That was the technique Batman always used when Robin asked the tough questions like, ‘Why am I going home early so you can interrogate Catwoman on your own?’

It only worked sometimes.

Unfortunately, Spoiler seems immune.

Jason grunts and drops the butt of his cigarette. He itches for another, but you’ll already wrinkle up your nose at the smell of one. And, shit, what are you even going to think about him high-tailing it out after that question, leaving for hours, and coming back stinking of smoke?

“I’m a fucking idiot. And an asshole.”

Spoiler huffs. “Everyone already knows that, dumbass. They certainly do.”

“Thanks,” Jason says drily.

“Anytime!” she chirps.

Her heels beat against the side of the building.

She’s not leaving anytime soon, so Jason sighs and gives in. “They asked when I was planning on proposing.”

Spoiler gasps and jumps to her feet. “Oh my God!”

“Yeah.”

“Oh my God!”

“Yep.”

“So you’re engaged?”

“What? No.”

“What?”

“They asked when I would propose. That wasn’t a proposal… I don’t think so. I mean, there wasn’t a ring,” Jason says helplessly.

Spoiler socks him in the shoulder.

“Ow!” Damn, but the girl can pack a punch. He rubs at the sore spot, scowling.

“You stupid idiot!”

“I know.”

“And you just ran away?”

Jason cringes and admits to his lap, “Yes.”

Spoiler hits him in the exact same spot on his shoulder.

“Goddamn it, stop that!”

“I’m going to kill you, Jason Peter Todd.”

“You could certainly try, Stephanie… Brown,” he shoots back.

“You don’t even know my middle name?”

“I don’t care about you.”

She lifts her fist again, but Jason twists out of the way before she can hit him a third time in the same shoulder. It’ll be bruised tomorrow.

“You don’t get it,” he says, balancing on the edge of the roof and feeling exceptionally unstable, even though he’s walked across ledges like this since he was twelve.

“What don’t I get? That you have an awesome partner waiting for you at home? One that wants to get married? One that—”

“One that has no idea who I am,” Jason hisses. He brandishes his helmet at the girl. “We’ve been together for three years. They have no idea that I’m the Red Hood. It made sense, at first; I can’t go around telling everyone I kiss what my identity is—”

“Right,” she scoffs sarcastically, “like you’re some kind of serial kisser, Todd. Half the city would know your identity if you did that.”

“Shut up,” Jason half-says, half-groans, and by some miracle, she does. “At first, obviously I couldn’t tell them. Then I wanted to keep waiting. I wanted to know that they were, you know, the one and everything.”

Spoiler fake-gags. Jason ignores her.

“And after that it was just too late. I waited too long. I can’t marry them unless they know about the mask, but who would agree to marry someone that’s been lying to them for three years? The entire time they’ve known me?”

“Huh,” says Spoiler.

‘Huh’ indeed.

“So I ran,” Jason says. “I don’t even know if I said anything. The next thing I knew, I was in the street with a pack of cigs and a lighter in my pocket. I came up here to smoke a couple before going back and ending things.”

“You—wait, ‘ending things?’” Spoiler’s head whips around, the white lenses of her domino widening. “What are you talking about?”

“I can’t lie to them,” says Jason. “When I go back, I’ll tell them the truth. And they’ll break up with me for lying for years. I was just trying to put it off.”

The worst thing was, he wasn’t even trying to lie for most of it. You took his excuses easily, believed him about a boxing gym membership to explain away the bruises, and never uttered a complaint about the odd hours he worked. Every time he was late to a date or canceled, you understood. Every time he forgot something important, odds were that you’d forgotten, too, without him to remind you.

All things considered, Jason might have found the single least curious person in all of Gotham, if you hadn’t figured it out after three years. But he’d gotten so comfortable that he’d forgotten that it was a secret, really. It had all rushed back in when he heard your words like a smack to the face, and he’d panicked.

“You don’t know that,” Spoiler says softly.

“Could you forgive someone for something like this?”

She stays silent, and that’s answer enough.

Jason huffs. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He reaches into his pocket, pulls out the pack of cigarettes and lighter, and considers them. Then he sighs and drops both on the ground. “Might as well get this over with.”

The cold Gotham air whips away the reek of smoke by the time he’s back at your apartment. Jason looks at the door like a condemned man looks at the gallows. He could sneak in through the window like he usually does, but he selfishly wants you to open the door for him. Show that he’s welcome now, even though he won’t be for long.

Seconds drag on like torturous minutes until he hears the familiar click of the lock. The door inches open with a screech.

Jason’s mouth goes dry at the sight of your wide eyes. “Hey, darling.”

Wordlessly, you open the door further and step aside to let him in.

Funny how a place he’s practically lived in can feel so unfamiliar. Jason shifts between feet as you re-lock your door.

The moment you turn around, he blurts out, “I’m sorry.”

You say the same thing.

“What?” Jason asks.

“You don’t need to apologize,” you say.

“No, I was an ass,” he insists. “I shouldn’t have left.”

“I didn’t mean to push you. I just saw you looking at rings, and we’ve talked about it, but still, marriage is a big step, so I wanted to be prepared,” you ramble. “I mean, we said that we could get married, but we never discussed when, or when the proposal would be—”

“Honey!”

You fall silent.

“Just wait,” Jason begs. He can’t stand any more of your endless understanding. You’ve only ever understood him, no matter what, and he’s going to miss it so much. He’s going to miss you so much. “Wait one second.” He retreats to the bedroom and returns a moment later with something clutched behind his back. Your eyes dart to the awkward way he’s contorted his arm.

Your face goes blank when he pulls out the spare helmet he keeps below your bed. He’d only used a domino when out with Spoiler, but that wouldn’t do for the grand reveal.

“I’m the Red Hood,” he says in a rush, then braces for your judgment.

You don’t react except to say, “Jason.”

He doesn’t understand. You’re not scared of the killer in your apartment. You’re not furious at the man that’s lied to you for three years. Obviously you don’t understand what he’s saying. “Honey, I’m the Red Hood. The vigilante.”

“Jay—”

You’re still just standing with no reaction. Jason holds the mask up so you’re making eye contact with it.

You push it out of the way and cradle his face with both your hands. “Jason Peter Todd, look at me,” you command.

Jason holds your gaze. It’s the last time he’ll ever be so close to you, and he never wants to forget what your presence feels like.

“Jay, I’ve known basically the whole time.”

What.

Jason blinks.

“What?”

“I already knew.”

“Honey, I don’t think you understand what I’m saying. I’m the—”

“Red Hood, yes, I know.” You muster up a tremulous smile. “And Bruce is Batman. Dick is Nightwing. Steph is Spoiler, Damian is Robin, Tim is—”

“Oh my God, you knew? How did you know?”

“Jason. My love. My darling. My honey bunchkin.” You give him a mildly scolding look. “I’m not an idiot.”

Jason’s ears heat. “And you’re not… mad?”

“That you’re the Red Hood?” You cock your head. “Of course not. I worry about you, of course. But you have to do it. I know that. Or am I mad that you tried to keep it a secret for three years?” You press your lips together to hide a growing smile. “No. I’m not mad about that either. You can’t exactly go around telling your secret identity to everyone you kiss. It’s just something I had to figure out on my own.”

“You knew,” Jason marvels. “You knew this whole time.”

“Most of the whole time,” you say. “But yes.”

“Oh my God.” Jason’s moving before he can stop himself, and he wraps you up in his arms and spins you around. “I thought you would hate me,” he confesses, still clutching you like his life depends on it. “When I finally told you.”

A soft hand runs through his hair. “Is that why you ran?” you ask softly.

“Yes. I’m so sorry, honey, I just—”

“I get it,” you interrupt.

“You were scared.”

A thought occurs to Jason with such clarity he nearly drops you. “Wait, so you were going to marry me even after you knew about the mask?”

“Of course,” you say. “I love you, Jay. Mask and all.”

“I don’t have a ring.”

“I don’t need one. Don’t you get it? I only need you.”

“I only need you, too.”

“Good.”

“Good,” Jason agrees, and he probably looks like a fool with his wide grin, but you can’t stop smiling either. He dips his head, and you rise up to press your lips to his, even though with both your grins you end up clicking teeth.

“Good,” you repeat.

“Good,” Jason says, just for good measure, and this time he makes sure the kiss is better. Lightning shoots up his spine and he pulls back to ask, “Wait, are we engaged now?”

“Um… yes?”

“That’s awesome.”

Your smile is so wide that your eyes nearly close. Jason’s pretty sure he looks the same as he sweeps you up and spins you around. You fit perfectly into his arms. He’s never going to let you go.

“My fianceé,” he says fondly. “I’m never going to get tired of saying that.”

“I’m marrying you,” you marvel, sweeping your thumb over his mouth. “I have the prettiest husband-to-be in the whole world.”

“I love you,” Jason confesses. “So much.”

“I love you, too.”

Seconds before your mouths meet for another kiss, Jason’s phone buzzes. On the off-chance it’s an important alert, he pulls it out, but it’s just Spoiler asking for an update.

Jason stows the device. “I have an idea.”

“Yeah?”

“I think I know how to make the sopapillas the right way.”

“Oh? And how’s that?”

It turns out that Jason’s right.

Making them with your help turns out to be what was missing the whole time.

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[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!!

[anotherjheastan]

Another Complicated Love Story

A Jey Uso x Rhea Ripley FanFic

Chapter 5 | Masterlist

CW none

Chapter 6: That’s What You Get

That’s what you get when you let your heart win

I drowned out all my sense with the sound of its beating

- That’s What You Get by Paramore

December 24, 2024

Rhea was gently shaken before the light was turned on. Rhea blinked her eyes. She gently rubbed them. They were a little puffy from crying the night before. She heard her best friend, Jessica clear her throat.

“From Adelaide, South Australia, your future Women’s World Champion, Rhea Bloody Ripley!!” Jessica announced.

Rhea sat up and smiled. “No announcing before coffee.”

“Well good thing the coffee’s done, mate. Now get up,” Jessica said.

Rhea followed Jessica into the kitchen. She looked at her phone. A lot of texts from Naomi. None from Jey. Fuck. Fucking Liv Morgan. Wasn’t she still with Dom? Why would she be pushing up on Jey? And what were they talking about anyway?

Jessica poured Rhea a mug from the pot. She sipped it and read through Naomi’s messages.

Jey said y’all are done? What happened?

Are you okay?

Just let me know you’re okay, Big Momma ❤️

Rhea sighed. “Naomi’s texting me.”

“I told her I’d make sure you’d text her this morning,” Jessica replied. “I told her you were alright.”

“You and Naomi talk?” Rhea asked, smiling.

“Yeah, we’ve been DMing since I’ve been planning to come see you. I’ve got her number now. We’re friends.”

Rhea shook her head. “Ok, let me text back.”

Hi Nae. I’m okay. Yeah we’re done. He was chatting up Liv Morgan. Did he tell you that?

Naomi: Liv Morgan?! I’m gonna get to the bottom of this

Rhea: There’s nothing to figure out. Thanks though.

“I think Naomi would agree with you about this all being a misunderstanding,” Rhea said, sitting on one of her bar stools.

Rhea had updated Jessica after she left medical. Damian went with her to the airport and he helped with getting her seat switched so she wouldn’t have to sit next to Jey. But he was flying to New York so he left for a different gate.

“I’m just saying I think you should hear him out,” Jessica said. “I don’t think he spent over a year pining for you to then go and chat up Liv Morgan. It doesn’t make sense.”

“Dom didn’t make sense either,” Rhea said.

“I know and if I ever see him backstage, you’ll have to stop me from kicking him in the dick,” Jessica said, rubbing Rhea’s back. Rhea laughed into her coffee. “But even on FaceTime I could see how smitten Jey is with you.”

Rhea’s smile faded.

“So if there’s something to figure out, let’s do it,” Jessica said.

“Can we figure out breakfast first, please?”

“Well you were supposed to be taking me to Waffle House. Is that off the table?” Jessica asked.

Rhea sighed. “No, let’s get ready and go.”

They finished their coffee, focusing their conversation on Jessica, her boyfriend Tony, and life back home in Australia. They showered and got dressed. Jessica pulled her long, brown hair into a ponytail. Rhea combed and brushed her hair, making sure it was straight.

“I think I’m ready for long hair again,” Rhea said, eyeing Jessica’s ponytail.

“You’ll get there soon enough.”

Before they headed out, Rhea saw another text from Naomi.

Naomi: Tell my girl Jessica I said what’s up. Y’all have fun today. Don’t forget I have gifts for you!

Rhea: Thanks girl. I’ll pick them up soon. I’ll bring your gift as well.

Naomi: For me?! You shouldn’t have!

Rhea smiled and put her phone down to drive.

Rhea and Jessica were enjoying their meal, snapping pics and posting on Instagram.

“I need to figure out a way to take some of these waffles back home,” Jessica said, tearing into her second chocolate chip waffle.

Rhea laughed. Her phone buzzed. A text from Naomi.

Naomi: Do you know what Jey and Liv were talking about? Do you want to know?

Rhea sighed. Did it matter? Maybe it did. Maybe that’s why Naomi was texting her. But would Jey tell the truth about what they were talking about anyway? What if he just lied to her? Rhea slid her phone over to Jessica. She read the message.

“Hell yeah we wanna know. Text her back!”

“I’m only responding ‘cause you wanna know.”

“Liar,” Jessica replied.

Rhea: What were they talking about?

Naomi: They were talking about Waffle House and Christmas plans. You know how enthusiastic he is about Waffle House. He would talk to any damn one about Waffle House.

Rhea laughed. Jey definitely would. If Waffle House had ambassadors, Jey Uso would be one. He was the reason they were at Waffle House now.

“But why didn’t he just say that?” Rhea asked.

“Based on the timeline of events you told me, you didn’t give him a chance to,” Jessica said. “You kicked him out of medical, went to the airport with Priest, switched seats on the plane. And he probably wanted to respect your space.”

All the color drained from Rhea’s face. She really hadn’t let him say anything. She rubbed her temples.

“I fucked up didn’t I?”

“Maybe a tiny bit,” Jessica said, smiling nervously.

Why hadn’t she trusted him? Given him the benefit of the doubt? Because she had trusted Dom. Because she had given Dom the benefit of the doubt and it blew up in her face. Because Dom hurt her. And now she had hurt Jey. She remembered his face in medical. Had caught glimpses of him at the airport when they landed back in Florida. She had been too angry. She had shut down.

“Fucking Dom,” Rhea sighed.

“Fucking Dom,” Jessica repeated.

Rhea: I fucked up didn’t I? There’s no fixing this, is there?

Naomi: He’s open to talking. I can be the mediator.

Rhea: Good to know. I’ll see you Thursday.

Naomi: Yeah we have to figure out this ride situation for the holiday show.

Shit. Rhea and Jessica were supposed to be riding with Naomi and Jey. She put a pin in that and went out to text Damian.

Rhea: Oh my God. Jey and Liv were talking about Waffle House.

Damian: I told you to go to therapy.

Rhea: I thought I was fine.

Damian: You’re always fine until you’re not. Do you need the number?

Rhea: No, I got it. I’ll make an appointment.

Damian: Don’t make me check on you

Rhea: lol I got it. And Jessica says hi.

Damian: Hi Jessica. I’m glad you’re there in person to help talk some sense into Rhea. Text me when she makes that appointment.

Rhea: Really? You’re just gonna text that like this isn’t my phone?

Damian: Well, don’t read it. I don’t know. I’ll talk to you later.

Rhea: lol love you.

Damian: love you too.

Thursday, December 26

Rhea parked her car on the road in front of Jimmy and Naomi’s house. They would be taking Jimmy’s SUV and she didn’t want to block the driveway. They were there a few minutes early. Rhea and Jey were meeting at 9 am to talk before getting on the road at 10. Naomi would keep Jessica company. She felt uneasy. She had tried to text Jey directly, but everything she started typing sounded dumb. Even Jessica tried to help, but it still wasn’t right. So she had just let Naomi do the talking. She would explain herself today. She gripped the steering wheel.

“Hey,” Jessica said gently. She reached out and touched Rhea’s hand. “No matter what, it’s gonna be okay. I know it doesn’t feel like it, but it will. He’s not Dom, but I’ll kick him in the dick too if it helps.”

Rhea laughed. “Thanks Jess. I’m sure Jey won’t need a kick in the dick though.”

“Okay then. Let’s go see if we still have a ride to this holiday show,” Jessica said.

“Okay that’s not helping,” Rhea said, opening her car door.

“My bad,” Jessica replied, opening her car door as well.

Rhea grabbed Naomi’s, Jimmy’s, and Jey’s gifts out the trunk. Rhea and Jessica rang the bell.

“Naomi!!!” Rhea exclaimed.

“Big Momma!” Naomi replied enthusiastically. .

“Naomi!!!” Jessica exclaimed.

“Jessica!!!” Naomi cheered.

Naomi hugged Rhea and Jessica. Rhea handed Naomi the gifts.

“Keep Jey’s. You’ll be able to give it to him yourself. He brought his gift for you. How are you doing?”

“Apart from feeling like a giant idiot, I’m great,” Rhea said.

“It’s gonna be okay, girl,” Naomi said. “Come in.”

Rhea and Jessica stepped inside. But what if it wasn’t okay? What if Jey never wanted to see her again? What if they were really done? An uneasy feeling settled in her stomach.

Please don’t throw up, she thought.

Jessica gave Rhea a hug before sitting on the couch. Naomi walked Rhea to the sunroom where Jey was waiting. Naomi opened the door. She stepped aside and Rhea walked in. Rhea’s breath caught. He looked so good even if he was just in a hoodie and sweatpants. He had on all black. He had a fresh haircut. And he looked…solemn. He wasn’t his smiling, silly self. Had she done that to him? She felt her eyes start to water, but she blinked back the tears. Rhea smiled, but Jey didn’t return it. She gripped the Christmas gift bag tighter in her hands.

“Can I leave you two alone?” Naomi asked.

“Yes,” they said simultaneously.

“Okay. I’ll be back at 10,” Naomi said. She shut the door behind her.

“Hi,” Rhea said, softly. She was still standing near the door.

“Hi,” Jey said matter-of-factly. He put his hands in the pockets of his black sweatpants.

He’s really mad, Rhea thought. Understandable.

“Can we sit down?” Rhea asked.

“Yeah,” Jey said, sitting down.

Rhea sat on the other side of the couch, leaving some space between them. She put her gift bag in between them and rubbed her hands on her thighs. Her hands were starting to sweat already. She quietly exhaled before looking at him.

“I’m sorry for how I acted on Monday,” Rhea said slowly. “You didn’t do anything wrong. It was me. I was wrong. I put my crap on you and I shouldn’t have. I’m starting therapy in January since I have unresolved emotions around…you know who. I don’t wanna put any more of my crap on you. You didn’t deserve that.”

Jey nodded. Rhea wanted the silence to be filled with anything. She couldn’t handle the quiet and hated how distant she felt from him.

“What happened…really hurt,” Jey started. “I care about you a lot. Trust is important to me. You have to trust me and I have to trust you. Right now, I don’t trust you.”

Rhea’s mouth twisted to the side. His words felt like a blow to the chest. She blinked a few times and looked away from him. Fuck, fuck, fuck, she thought. She took a deep breath and blew out a shaky breath. She looked at him.

“I understand. And I will do everything in my power to earn your trust back. If…if you let me,” Rhea’s voice cracked at the end and a tear fell from her eye. She quickly wiped it away.

“We’ll see,” Jey said.

What did that mean? She had gotten used to reading him, but this was really her first time dealing with upset Jey. She’d never seen him this upset and definitely not at her. But she messed up. She had to own it. And whatever happened, happened. Even if that meant losing him forever.

“Here’s your gift,” Rhea said, trying and failing to hold back more tears. She held out the bag to him. He took it, their hands brushing each other. Her heart stopped aching long enough for it to flutter. He handed her her gift.

Rhea stood up, wiping more tears away. “I’ll see you out there? Are we good for Jacksonville?”

Jey nodded. “We’re good.”

Rhea nodded and then quickly left. She walked to the couch and sat in between Jessica and Naomi. They wrapped their arms around her. Rhea let more tears fall.

“How did it go?” Jessica asked.

“Okay,” Rhea said quietly. “We can ride together.”

“So you two are good?” Naomi asked, uncertain.

“I don’t know. I think we’re okay for now,” Rhea said. “It’s a lot to work through.”

Naomi nodded. “That’s fair. You wanna open your gift?”

Rhea shrugged. “Why not?”

She reached in the bag and pulled out a black, rectangular box. She opened it and gasped. A beautiful Cuban link bracelet with diamonds. It was similar to the one Jey had. She smiled.

“Nice,” Jessica said, under her breath.

Rhea closed it and put it back in the bag. She opened up the card he had in there.

I’m used to you catching up to how I’m feeling. So I understand if you’re not ready to hear me say I love you, but I do. I love you. I shouldn’t write this in a note to you. I should say it to your beautiful face. But I don’t want to scare you off. But I’m pretty sure you love me too. It’s in your eyes, the way you stare at me sometimes. I know because I stare at you like that too. Things are getting serious for me. I hope you’re thinking like that too. I see a future for us forreal. Thank you for a wonderful time together so far. Months have felt like forever. I wonder what years will feel like. I can’t wait to find out.

Love, Jey

Tears streamed down Rhea’s face. He loved her! He loved her! Rhea had written her note for his gift a few days before the drama on Raw. But she left it there, full of hope. And it seems like Jey had left his note in there for her. So there was a chance. Maybe they weren’t completely done.

“Are you okay? What did he say?” Jessica asked.

Rhea nodded. “These are happy tears.”

“I’ll get you some tissue,” Naomi said.

Naomi returned and Rhea wiped her face.

“Thank you. He said he loves me. And I wrote in my note that I love him.”

“Y’all are so sickening,” Naomi said.

“Agreed,” Jessica said.

Rhea laughed. She held the note to her chest and sighed. She started crying again.

“Hey it’s 9:58,” Jey said, walking over to the girls. He stopped when he saw Rhea. “Are you okay?”

Rhea smiled and nodded. “Happy tears.”

Jey smiled for the first time at her. And Rhea wanted to collapse into a puddle on the floor. He held his hand out to her. She hesitated, putting the note down. He stuck out both hands and nodded. She took them and he pulled her into a hug. He smelled amazing. Rhea held him tight. He squeezed her too. They separated and he wiped some of her tears away. He looked from her eyes to her lips and Rhea’s heart pounded. He kissed her on the forehead. She was just happy to feel his lips on her again.

“While I’m glad y’all made up, y’all are gonna be late if you don’t get going,” Jimmy said.

“Ugh, really Jimmy? You can’t let them have a moment?” Naomi said.

Jimmy held up his hands. “I’m just saying.”

“Let’s go,” Jey said. “Bye Jim.”

“Bye Jey. Nice meeting you, Jessica. Bye Rhea,” Jimmy said, as Naomi walked up to him.

Naomi kissed Jimmy and told him to take it easy. “I love you.”

“I love you too. Be safe and have fun,” Jimmy replied.

Jessica and Rhea waved at Jimmy. Rhea grabbed her bag out of her car and tossed it in the SUV. Jessica and Rhea sat in the back. Naomi and Jey in front, Naomi in the driver’s seat. Naomi put on her playlist and they headed to Jacksonville.

[ghost-bxrd]

To fuel your JJK and Batfam crossovers, what if Jason became like what Rika is to Yuta to Dick and Bruce. They say Batman got more violent after Robin's death, and while it's true, Jason's the one who is actually almost killing them for trying to hurt Bruce in his eyes. Especially when Bane broke his back, Jason breaks every bone in Bane's body. Blockbuster bombs Dick's apartment, Jason bombs his everything, with a bomb like the one that killed him, and almost rips Catalina to pieces for what she tried to do. When Bruce steps into the JL base after Jason haunts him as a curse, Zatana and Constantine have the same reaction and fear as the second years when they saw Yuta, Raven when she sees Dick with curse!Jason. When Tim and other batfam members join the family, they also get Jason's "curse", with varying reactions. Bruce is horrified that his son would easily kill, but even worse cause it's for him, but can't bring himself to exorcise Jason. Dick as well, buts it's mixed with an awe of how deep Jason loves him. Tim is super happy with having someone who cares about him this much and will stay with him whenever he calls for it, even if the some of the love language is extreme violence towards enemies, and when Jason no diffs the LOA for Damian he feels like a king, gaining the best bodyguard that even Ra's can't harm. Bonus points if Jason appears in his human form to the Batfam unless he's angry, but others can't see him until he attacks so they're near death. And he is monstrousin this form, the same kid who cooks with Alfred in the morning can be a 10 foot tall beast when anyone threatens his family. His curse form looks like how he died, his injuries from the crowbar bleeding on display, but so much bigger with so many eyes and teeth and claws, an explosion happens every time his curse form appears. Anyway curse!Jason AU

I am on my KNEES for this idea holy shit!!!!

Anybody who’s been here long enough for eldritch!Jason and fae!Dick will know how much I love creatures with too many eyes and teeth 👁️

So let’s spin this further!!!! There’s been so many different theories of how Rika came to be and if love could truly be a catalyst for becoming a curse because humanity views love as something sacrosanct.

But the concept of “Love is the most twisted curse of all” is just— so wonderfully applicable for this scenario. Because we’ve got it confirmed time and time again that Jason is the most emotional out of the Bats. And love, in its many forms—a lot of them beautiful—also comes with the duality that can manifest as possessiveness, obsession, jealousy etc. Two sides of the same coin.

Soooooo, fast forward to Jason’s death and transformation into a cursed spirit— let’s have him come to terms with his new existence first. He’ll be scared, full of rage, full of why is this happening to me!?

And maybe for the first few weeks/months he’ll be alone, staying close to his family but trying to get a grip on how and when he appears. Figuring out his existence works, and why explosions seem to suddenly be hard wired into his very being even though, logically, he should be terrified of them.

And!!! The batfam!!!!! Jason’s watching from the sidelines of course, but Bruce operating in Gotham and Dick in Blüdhaven would usually mean that he can’t exist in two places at once. But now that he’s a curse, mere mention of his name is enough to draw Jason’s attention. One second he’ll be watching Bruce bring down a gang in the Bowery, the next he’s blowing Blockbuster and Catalina sky-high. He’s fine tuned into every single bat’s emotional state of being.

And calming him down again??? Hooooo, boy. When curse!Jason falls into a protective frenzy, it has the potential to become bad enough to wipe an entire city off the map, and only the Bats have any hope of calming him down. ((Let’s imagine a ten foot, burned monstrosity being cooed at and skillfully lulled away from the carnage by an exhausted Nightwing asking for cuddles))

(((The Justice League keep urging Bruce to do something about Jason, but all the protectiveness goes both ways: the batfam are NOT losing Jason again.)))

[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.”

[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

[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.

[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.

[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

[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?"

[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.