#as hes reminded of the last time someone else tried to adopt jason

[oifaaa]

instead of jason adopting tim i think tim should adopt Jason. vigilante being overly violent who used to be good before jason's death is exactly tims type to adopt. Do i think it would happen/be realistic? no. but neither is jason adopting Tim, and this is funnier

Tims just like "oh you thought Bruce was a bad parent well get ready fucker I'm about to show you what truly bad parenting is"

[mischiefandspirits]

Bernard Figures It Out

Was reading through all the comments on @frostbittenbucky's post and all I could think of was that it was Bernard talking to Tim. Then I got to thinking...

"I've connected the two dots."

"You didn't connect shit."

"I've connected them."

Bernard figures out Tim's a superhero... sort of.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tim fidgetted nervously as he waited on the front porch of his boyfriend’s house. Bernard had sounded so serious when he’d called during Tim’s lunch to ask him to come over after work so they could talk about something.

Which Tim had done, after spending an entire board meeting just going over the past week trying to figure out what he’d done.

The only thing he could think of was that he’d ducked out halfway through their lunch date on Wednesday to give Duke some backup, but Bernard had seemed understanding when Tim explained there was an emergency at GRC Labs. It couldn’t have been a tipping point, either, since Tim had managed to only flake on three other dates over the past few months they’d been dating. Kate had been happy to cover for him as often as she could “out of queer solidarity” when she found out Tim was dating a boy for the first time and Tim had managed to trick Bruce into covering a few actual Wayne Enterprises emergencies for him when they came up.

There had to be a reason Bernard was breaking up with him, though. Had he missed something? He definitely wasn’t forgetting an important day. He was good with days and Tam was even better, so she would have reminded him on the off chance that he had forgotten.

What was he missing?

Bernard was smiling when he opened the door, but there was a nervous energy to it that had Tim’s stomach sinking. “Hey, Tim.”

“Hey.” Tim gave his own nervous smile then slipped inside.

They went into the living room and sat down on the couch.

Tim frowned when Bernard grabbed a manila folder off the coffee table. Crud, had he screwed up enough that Bernard had had to make a list? He knew he was new to dating a guy, but he hadn’t thought he’d done that bad. He’d really been trying, especially with how his and Stephanie’s relationship had fallen apart at the end. “What -”

“Just let me speak, Tim,” Bernard said, waiting for Tim’s nod. “Okay, so you know Clark Kent, right?”

Tim blinked as Bernard opened the folder to show a picture of Clark. It looked like one of the employee pictures from the Planet’s website, with his dorky “I’m just a humble country boy” smile and the golden globe from their roof photoshopped in as the background. “Uh, yeah? I think so. He works for the Daily Planet, right? I think he’s worked at a few of Bruce’s events. Not a lot of outside reporters are willing to come to Gotham.”

“Exactly!” Bernard said, snapping his fingers and pointing at Tim.

“What?”

He pulled out the picture to show the next page was an article titled, “DAILY PLANET REPORTER… BATMAN!?”

A wave of relief washed over Tim and he placed his face in his hands. “Were you up all night on the hero conspiracy boards again?”

“No. I mean, I found this on a board and was up all night thinking about it, but I found it reasonably early.”

“One in the morning isn’t reasonable, Bernard.”

“Says the guy who’s always wide awake when I call to infodump.”

“Touché.” Tim leaned against Bernard and gave him a smile. “So tell me, why is some reporter from Metropolis from all places Batman.”

“First of all, living in Metropolis is the perfect cover. Everyone assumes Batman would live in Gotham, no one would consider he could be from anywhere else. Metropolis is outside the GMA, but close enough that the commute is still possible.”

“But it’s Metropolis.”

“And who would think Gotham’s Dark Knight lives in the sunshine capital? Plus, I hear he disappears a lot on the job. There’s gotta be a reason for it!”

Tim made a note to let Clark know he needs to cut back on the disappearing act some since people are catching on.

“And have you seen the guy? He is swol AF, babe.”

“Please don’t call me babe while you’re talking about how hot another guy is.” Especially Tim’s honorary uncle.

“You know I prefer twinks.”

“BERNARD!”

“I’m just saying,” he continued, ignoring Tim’s shout. “The guy is definitely hiding something! Besides, Kent is an investigative reporter. He’s gotta know a lot about cases and the underground and detective work.”

Not as much as he likes people to think, but more than he likes people to know Superman does, Tim mused. “But what about the other vigilantes?”

“Well, Kent has a cousin…” Bernard flipped through a folder and pulled out a picture of Kara. It looked like a screenshot of her interviewing Lena for CatCo. “She’s obviously the latest Batgirl. Look at her hair. And the first Batgirl and the current Batwoman were obviously Lois Lane, the red hair is just a wig. Did you see how she kicked butt at that last event she went to? She’s not as subtle as Kent. That means their son is the latest Robin. He’s exactly the right size.”

Oh, Damian better not hear about this, Tim cackled internally. His youngest brother hated being reminded that Jon was the same height as him despite their two years age difference. Damian definitely took after Talia when it came to body type, no matter what he said.

“And Kent also has a brother.” This time he pulled out a picture of Kon. The clone must have been caught by a reporter out shopping with Ma since he was carrying some paper bags and glaring at whoever was behind the camera. “At least, he’s supposedly Kent’s brother, but he was a teenager when he first showed up with the Kents. A lot of people think he’s actually Kent’s son, that Kent got a girl pregnant when they were teenagers and something happened to the mom so Kent had to take him in. Now the Kents are trying to hide it by saying the two are brothers.”

That was… scarily accurate actually. Especially given Luthor and Clark were close friends at the time that Kon would have theoretically been born.

“And that beef would explain why the younger Kent brother went all crime lord on Gotham for a while before reconnecting with the family.”

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah, Kent Jr.’s got the perfect build for Red Hood.”

Tim bit back a comment on how Kon was shorter than Jason by a good foot. Timothy Drake-Wayne should not know that. Add Jason to the list of people who can’t hear this theory.

“And then there’s this girl,” Bernard picked up a picture of Lois, Jon, and Natasha Irons walking down the street together. “No one’s sure exactly who she is, but she’s been spotted with the Kents a few times. I think the cover story is that she’s Jon’s babysitter.”

“And the actual story?”

“She’s Black Bat, obviously. That’s why she wears a mask that fully covers her face. She doesn’t want to stand out as the only African American Bat.”

“Isn’t Signal also Black?”

“Yeah, but he works in the daytime so he’s already a standout.”

“And who is Signal in this? And what about Nightwing and Red Robin?”

“Well, Nightwing’s just a Blüd who came to Gotham. He doesn’t count.”

Ouch. Sorry, Dick.

“And Red Robin is obviously an older Robin, the one who was Robin when we were kids. Kent wanted to keep him on, and I don’t blame him. As for Signal, he’s got the same backstory as all the other Robins Kent picked up, he just went the Signal route because he didn’t fit the usual Robin mold.”

“Because the female Robin fit the mold,” Tim snorted. Robin Mold, as if he and his brothers were even the same ethnicity. Or even had the same hair color. Jason dyes his hair, Dick’s is brown-black, Tim’s is pure black, and Damian’s is more a dark brown and it’s only getting lighter as he gets older.

“She didn’t, that’s the point. Kent tried to give breaking the Robin mold a chance by letting his cousin have a go at it, but he realized it just didn’t work so she went back to being Spoiler and he got a new Robin.”

Not touching that with a ten-foot pole. “Right, and where does he get the usual Robins? Please tell me you’re not back on the secret government orphanages theory.”

“No, no, no. Kent travels sometimes for his job, right? And a lot of the time he’s going to places that have been hit by disasters or major crimes. So he’ll take in some of the displaced children to train as his robins.”

Tim pressed his face back into his hands.

“You see it, right?”

Honestly, Tim was just wondering how his boyfriend could be so close, and yet so far off. “How would Kent even afford taking care of a bunch of secret -- possibly illegally acquired -- children without anyone noticing?”

“Simple. Bruce Wayne is funding him.”

“Bernard, I love you, but what the heck?” Tim blushed and looked up as he realized what he’d said, but Bernard didn’t seem to notice as he steamrolled ahead.

“It’d also explain how he can afford all the gear and how he’d be able to travel to Gotham or anywhere else Batman goes without anyone noticing. He probably has a secret Batplane or something.”

“Why would Bruce do that?”

“Because Wayne cares about Gotham, everyone knows that, and this way he can make sure someone’s taking care of the city without anyone putting two and two together.”

“And two plus two is?”

Bernard gave him a hard look. “I’m not stupid, Tim. Bruce Wayne is obviously Superman. His face is right there.”

Oh, the others are going to love this! Too bad I can’t tell Damian or Jason. Jason especially would have loved this. “Right. Bruce is Superman.”

“He is. Superman is known for being nice and Bruce Wayne’s basically all that’s keeping the city running at this point. That’s nice as hell.”

Oh my god.

“And Wayne does charity for the victims of cataclysms, doesn't he? I bet he first saves people from them as Superman and then builds them new homes for free.”

Oh my god! Why am I not recording this!?

“And the Wayne’s were rich enough to hide the fact they adopted an alien baby.”

Tim raised an eyebrow. “If you’re about to tell me this is why Bruce’s parents got killed, you might want to stop while you’re ahead.”

“It’d make sense. There’re all sorts of unanswered questions about their deaths,” Bernard muttered under his breath, flipping through the folder. He pulled out another picture of Kara. This time she was in full Supergirl attire with a bus held overhead. “So if Wayne is Superman, then that’d mean your ex-girlfriend could be Supergirl. They look a lot alike and it’d explain how she got involved with you all.”

“Bernard, she has a human dad. You know, Cluemaster. The supervillain.”

“Yeah, her dad. But we don’t know anything about her mom!”

“Let me guess…”

Bernard pulled out a picture of Karen. She and Helena were suited up and talking to a group of cops, two goons held over each of Karen’s shoulders. “Her mom could be Power Girl! Some makeup and a wig and she could look just like Crystal Brown! And Damian Wayne is obviously the new Superboy! That’s why his background is such a mystery, right? He had to stay a secret until he could control his alien superpowers. That’s why he’s always so mean. It’s a cover since everyone knows Superboy is super sweet!”

Sure, when he’s not helping Damian pull pranks or using his adorable powers to put the blame on Kon and I. “No, Bernard. Damian and Steph are just very human hellspawn. And Bruce and Crystal are human too. I can’t believe you called me over here just to tell me you think Superman is both Batman’s sugar daddy and my adoptive dad.”

“Well, that’s not exactly why I called you over,” Bernard admitted, the nervous energy coming back. He grabbed Tim’s hands. “Tim -”

Tim’s stomach sank. “You are breaking up with me!”

“What? No! I don’t want to break up!”

“Why are you acting all nervous and serious then!?” Tim asked, pulling his hands away to throw them up in the air.

Bernard shook the folder. “Because I’m trying to tell you I figured out you’re Superboy!”

Tim’s brain blue-screened and his hands slowly dropped. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I know you’re Superboy. The older one, obviously. By the way, you and Damian really need to figure out separate names.”

Forget Jason and Damian, Kon can never find out about this. He’d never let me live it down. “Bernard, you called me a twink five minutes ago. Su-” Shoot, I can not risk getting Kon’s attention! “The older one might not be as big as Superman, but he’s not a twink.”

“Well, yeah, that’s the shapeshifting at work.”

“The what?”

“Obviously you Kryptonians can shapeshift. Why else would you look so much like humans?”

… Why do Kryptonians look so much like humans? Was there some - Wait, no! Break into the Fortress of Solitude for research later! Reassure your boyfriend that you’re not an alien now! “Bernard -”

“And that explains why your step-mom was so hot.”

“Gross.”

“She and your dad were actors hired by Luthor so you could have a normal life! But now Bruce has custody so he adopted you.”

“No.”

“That’s why you and your dad were so weird with each other when I met him.”

“We were weird because he’d just gotten out of a coma not long before to find that his wife was dead so he decided to actually be a dad for once in his life, but overcompensated and became a helicopter parent to a kid who was mostly on his own for his entire life!” Tim blurted out. “I am not an alien, Bernard!”

“Well, not technically since you were cloned from Superman on Earth.”

“Oh my god! You were just talking about Steph being Supergirl! Why would I date my dad’s cousin?”

Bernard blinked. “Supergirl and Superman are cousins?”

Right, Timothy Drake-Wayne wasn’t supposed to know that. “I thought they’d said something like that before, yeah. Are people seriously saying I’m Superboy on the internet?”

“NO! No, I swear I would have led with that if I thought your identity was compromised. A few people have mentioned Wayne and Damian, but not you or Steph or Jason.”

“Wh-Jason!? You think Jason was an alien too!”

“No, not exactly, but a few times when I’ve visited I swear I’ve seen a guy in the manor who looks like Jason. It’s just been out of the corner of my eye and he’s gone whenever I look so I’ve always thought it was just Dick or Bruce or some picture of Jason that my mind was playing tricks with, but it makes sense now that I know Wayne is Superman. He must have been able to heal Jason with alien tech, but couldn’t say anything because that would give away that he’s Superman.”

Damn it Jason! And damn it Bernard! I’m dating the smartest moron in the world! “Bruce did not bring Jason back with alien technology and none of us are aliens!”

“It’s okay, Tim. I won’t tell anyone.”

Tim grabbed Bernard by the jacket and pulled him into a kiss. When he started to feel lightheaded, he pulled back, “Could someone whose skin is as solid as stone kiss like that?”

Bernard blinked dazedly at him for a moment. “How do you know what Superboy’s skin feels like?”

Tim screamed internally. “He’s saved me from a kidnapping before.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I can get you the police report if you want.”

“Huh… And the others?”

“Not Supers. I can stab Damian the next time we’re at the manor if that’ll prove none of us are aliens.” He’d rather stab Jason, but that would probably only confirm to Bernard that Bruce used alien technology to bring him back.

“You probably shouldn’t stab your brother if he isn’t an alien.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “I won’t stab him anywhere deadly.”

“That’s not the point,” Bernard said slowly.

“He’ll be fine.”

“If you say so.”

“So do you believe I’m not an alien now?” Tim huffed, letting go of Bernard’s jacket.

The blond’s eyes dipped down to Tim’s lips. “If I say no, will you kiss me like that again?”

“You’re ridiculous,” Tim said, but he kissed him anyway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Okay, but I still say Clark Kent is definitely Batman.”

“Sure, Bernard.”

[moonlit-imagines]

Misbehavior (Part 1)

Jason Todd x batkid!reader

warnings:

a/n: tysm anon!!

prompt: anonymous: “Hello Lacey! Hope your doing great! Could I please request a bat family x batsis!reader where the reader is Kind of the middle child (I was thinking older than Damian but younger than Tim) and she’s always forgotten and in the back. Maybe some scenarios can be that no one listens when she talks or they forget to invite her to do stuff. So then one day she acts up in school like maybe punching someone for no good reason because she’s craving attention but instead of Bruce showing up to get her Jason shows up and he sees that she’s actually really sad and starts to question her until she tells him everything and maybe spills some tears and it ends with just Jason comforting her and cheering her up. Just some soft Jason for my soul! Also have a great day and I hope that you feel better and more motivated now after your break! 😘”

part 2

No matter what you did, none of your deeds went unnoticed. Good or bad.

You always heard how Dick was so independent, the one everyone should use as an example.

You always heard how Barbara could do it all, she never failed to impress.

You always heard how Jason was reckless, someone who needed to get his act together.

You always heard how Tim was such a prodigy, he was one of a kind.

You always heard how Steph was so determined, she had such amazing goals.

You always heard that Cass was perfect, they’d never change a thing about her.

You always heard that Duke was so strong, he’d never give up no matter what stood in his way.

You always heard that Damian was dangerous, a kid that needed to be guided.

But what about you? What did they hear about you? Nothing. No one ever spoke of you, they didn’t have the time. It seemed as if you were just unimpressive, there wasn’t one thing that needed to be mentioned. Stuck in the middle of a bunch of bats and birds, no way to stand out in the crowd.

Maybe not in a mask or a cowl, a dress or a suit, behind a computer or among the darkness, but there was one place you couldn’t be ignored...

You sat at your desk, picking at old tape with the tip of your fingernail. The teacher had nothing interesting to say, so what was the point of being here? What made Gotham Academy so special that you just had to attend this place?

The uniform was overkill, the classes went nowhere, the students were too preppy, and you didn’t have a single thing in common with anyone here.

Anger was starting to bubble inside you as you continued your internal self-loathing. Your mind was only focused on the negative, but it was shifting from school back to home.

No one was ever there for you, not even on patrol. You’d called for backup several times on missions and nearly lost it all when you had to go in alone. If it were anyone else, a teammate would have met them in a heartbeat.

Your plans were always overshadowed whenever you tried to set up a mission or even just a day off. You wanted cookies? Too bad, Tim wants brownies. You wanted to watch a movie? Too bad, everyone chose a TV show. It was the little things that irked you the most. Half the time, you never even got the memo.

And what about when you all come back from patrol with all sorts of injuries and Alfred comes to patch you up? Well, not you. He’ll run to check on cuts and scrapes. Meanwhile, you had a broken wrist and a black eye.

You’d finally run out of things to pick at around your desk which resorted in you tapping instead. There was a brief bit of zoning out as you remembered the time that Damian’s plan for evading Killer Croc’s attack was to push you in the way. Or the time that Jason hid his guns in your bed for reasons he didn’t care to explain. Or when Dick drank the last of the milk and didn’t tell you until after you poured your cereal. Or when Tim told you that you weren’t fit for the mission he had been planning. Or when Bruce blatantly ignored the story you told out of pure excitement, giving you nothing but a “sounds like you had fun.”

While you were in a horrible daze, you felt a hand on your shoulder that snapped you out of it faster than the Barry Allen. Without even evaluating the situation, your reflexes caused you to turn and twist your classmates arm backwards as he screamed.

“Hey! Stop, ow, that hurts! Stop! Stop it!” You processed his words too late and knew exactly what was coming next.

“Y/N L/N!” You teacher shouted as you drew your hand back. “Dean’s office. Right now.” Her sharp voice sent a chill down your spine, not even the Joker could do that. You’d be able to explain the situation pretty easily, you just didn’t want to make it worse. But there was one ankle that sent you off the edge. Another student tripped you on your way through the aisles, and that student caught a fist to the face. The audience gasped and shouting from your teacher ensued, but you didn’t listen, you’d take the punishment at this point. So you walked right out and headed for the dean’s office without so much as a hall pass.

“Mx. l/n? What’s this about?” Dean Williams was surprised to say the least, you’d never been sent in for discipline before. Was there a certain way to do this?

“Well, I zoned out and some kid behind me grabbed my shoulder, I accidentally twisted his arm.” You retold your story, the abridged version. “But on my way out I punched a kid in the face because he tripped me. That one’s on me.”

“...Well,” the dean frowned at his obligations, but had to go through with some kind of punishment, “I’m going to have to suspend you for physical contact with a student. I’ll call your father to come pick you up.” You shrugged and slouched back in your chair, giving up on any hope of talking your way out of this. It might as well just happen. You listened to the clicking of the buttons on the dean’s phone as he typed in the Wayne Manor phone number, obviously reaching Alfred almost immediately.

“Wayne Manor.” You eard his faint voice through the speaker.

“Hello, this is Dean Williams from Gotham Academy, may I speak to Mr. Wayne? I have his child in my office.” Your dean explained over the phone, peeking back at your for a split second. You were completely unbothered, it was baffling.

“Is it Damian?” You heard him ask, causing an involuntary eye roll.

“Y/N, actually.” There was a long pause before someone else picked up the phone. “Mr. Wayne, this is Dean Williams at Gotham Academy. I have y/n sitting across from me right now, they seemed to have gotten themself into a physical altercation with two separate students, I have no choice but to suspend them.” You heard a deep sigh over the phone, then the handheld piece was handed to you.

“Bruce?” You asked.

“Really? Fighting at school?” He sounded unimpressed. Nothing new, even when you do something new.

“Something like that. Whoops.” He hung up on you right after that, so you handed the phone back and told your dean, “Guess they’ll get me soon.”

“You call your father by his first name?” Dean Williams had nosily questioned.

“I’m adopted.” He obviously didn’t know you as well as your more troublesome sibling, it was time he just minded his business.

After a good thirty minutes of silent waiting while listening to keyboard clacking and papers flipping by the front desk, the office door opened, and to your surprise, it was one of your brothers.

“I’m here for y/n.” He mumbled, signing the piece of paper and showing his ID.

“Alright, Mr. Harper, I just have to check some paperwork really quick...” The receptionist went into your file and checked for your emergency contacts. “You’re all set. Now, y/n has been suspended for two weeks. I suggest you get to the bottom of their little ‘outburst’ before they’re able to come back to school.” It actually pissed Jason off to hear her say that.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” His sarcasm wasn’t subtle. “Come on, kid.” Your brother gripped your arm and led you out of the office, noticing your bitter expression that he couldn’t even rationalize. Was that normal? “So what happened. Bruce just told me to come get you.”

“Of course he did.” You rolled your eyes on the brink of tears, he didn’t even come to get you himself. Jason opened the car door for you and nudged you inside, slamming it once you were clear.

“You better have a good reason,” he warned as he started the engine, “I was in the middle of a poker game.”

“Oh, yeah, ‘cause I’m such an inconvenience.” You were starting to remind him of himself. That was never a good thing.

“Okay, my bad. I didn’t mean it like that.” Jason began speeding down the block, you’d never once seen him obey a speed limit. You’d think someone with a fake ID and a death certificate would want to avoid any run-ins with the cops, but Gotham was just one of those cities.

“Yeah, right.” You reached for the radio knobs and felt Jason’s hand wrap around your wrist.

“No music until you explain yourself.” You fell back into your seat to pout, muttering some curses under your breath. “I won’t tell Bruce or anyone. I swear.”

“I just zoned out. Reflexes.” You bluntly replied.

“What?” He still didn’t have any context to go off of.

“I twisted someone’s arm backwards. Honest mistake.” Jason knew there was more to this story. “But on my way out of the classroom, I punched this kid who tried to trip me. That was on him.”

“As much as I condone payback, you can’t do that at school.” He sighed. “You’ve never been sent home before. That I know of. So why now?”

“Yeah, you know, maybe that’s the issue? You couldn’t tell me if I’ve ever gotten in trouble before. None of you could. You couldn’t tell me a definitive thing about me. When’s my birthday, Jason?” He was at a loss for words. “That’s what I thought.”

“So this was all for attention?” Jason asked. “There’s a hell of a lot of better ways to go about that.”

“Tried them all, this one barely even worked.” You replied with a crack in your voice. “How come none of you care about me? Why am I always looked over? I’m just like the rest of you. I put on that stupid suit every night and kick ass, I get my job done, I get good grades, I’m resourceful, I’m special—” You’d let that last one slip in your rant to your older brother, it shocked him so bad he stopped the car.

“I know what you mean.” Jason stared straight ahead at the empty road. “I felt the same way when I came back. After everyone was used to me being back, it was like nothing ever happened. Bruce just went back to calling me careless, irresponsible.”

“At least you get noticed, Jason. Your identifiable.” You turned to him with a pained look and he risked his confidence to look you in the eye. Once he did, he couldn’t look away. It hurt him to see someone so familiar to himself have tears running down their face because they felt forgotten. No kid should ever have to feel like that. That was why Bruce took him in. That was how Jason became Robin.

“Fuck this.” Jason hit the gas and turned the car around. “We’re getting ice cream. Do you like ice cream? That’s a serious question.”

“I...I guess.” You were somewhat confused by his sudden literal change in direction.

“Good. You’re my kid for today, all my attention goes to you. I’m sure Bruce won’t notice if you’re gone for a few hours.” Jason’s jaw dropped at his last comment. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“No, you’re right and you should say it.”

taglist: @thatwaspossession // @ravenmoore14 // @thisetaernallove // @kinoko-kai //

[catxsnow]

HAPPINESS B.W.

Request: Will you do a Bruce Wayne x reader where the reader gets hurt because of his life and he just like super sorry and regretful? If you wanna change the bat boy that'll be okay.

Warning: mentions of blood and injury, fluff, angst 

A/N: hello good day one and all, my writing inspiration has plummeted even more but I hope everyone enjoys this. 

Word count: 1.9k 

Bruce never wanted you to be part of his life for this reason. He didn't want an innocent civilian to get caught up in his life as Batman. Someone who couldn't take care of themselves like he or his kids could. He didn't want you to be trapped in the crossfire of his battles and be the one to suffer the consequences.

You knew the risks of being with him. One night he may never make it home because of his fights. Or maybe that one of his sons or daughter would fall again, and this time never return. You knew that maybe, you would somehow be the one to get the bullet instead of someone that would have known how to dodge it.

Maybe if Bruce would have been faster, or if he ignored his pride and asked for help everything would have turned out fine. Maybe if he sacrificed himself, you would have ended up safe. Instead, you laid in a hospital bed. Cast around your arm, brace on your neck. Cuts and bruises laced your skin from the accident.

Except it wasn't an accident. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time and there was nothing that Bruce could have done to help, no matter how much he beat himself up over it. He was saving the lives of others - you would never shame him for that.

Being Batman was something you had to learn to deal with, but his need to save lives was something you could never chastise. You had your fights over it, the crying and screaming matches that seemed to go on for hours. Your pleads to get him to stop when things were going too far.

The times a young Jason Todd would come into your room with red eyes because he heard you and Bruce fights. An older Jason coming to you for comfort after hearing yet another argument with your husband. Tim crawling into your bed with you as Bruce headed out for a night on his own after yelling at you.

Dick, the child you never got a hand in raising, but being there for you because he knew Bruce's antics more than anyone. All his kids adored you, and they all knew what it was like to be on the other end of Bruce's stubborn Wrath.

Bruce was worth it. He was worth every tear, every kiss, every second. Every moment you spent with him, whether it be love or hate, you wouldn't change it for anything. Even if his love was the reason that you were in that bed.

"It's not your fault, Bruce," Dick stood behind the chair in which his adopted father sat. He came back to Gotham the moment that he heard about what happened. Damian had told him scene by scene what occurred - nothing of which Bruce could have stopped. Maybe not even if he was Superman.

Unfortunately, Dick knew all too well that Bruce would feel guilty for this. He was more protective of you than anyone else in this entire world. He would go to any length to keep you safe.

Bruce held your hand in his. The faint pulse was the only thing keeping him sane in that moment. His hair was tousled, likely from the stress he had been under these past few hours. It wasn't often Dick saw him like this. Then again, it wasn't often Bruce ever let anything happen to you.

"I knew a day like this would come and yet I still agreed to let them into my life," Bruce's voice was hoarse - nearly as much as it was when he was under the cowl. The only difference, was now he wasn't hiding behind a mask, he was forced to face the reality of what could happen to those he loved because of his life.

"Growing up, I never thought I'd see the day that you'd fall in love," Dick sat down in the chair across from Bruce. He refused to take his eyes off you, even with his son showing himself. "And then you met (Y/N). I remember them coming over to the mansion for the first time. I wasn't living there anymore but you wanted me to come to meet them.

"I've never seen you laugh, genuinely laugh, so much in one night. I could tell, from that night that they were different than the other woman you brought home. You cared about them from the start, Bruce. (Y/N) wasn't just some other person that you seduced to uphold your playboy act. They knew what they were getting into with you. You can't just force everyone away because you're scared of potential outcomes - that's part of life. Even for Batman."

"They wouldn't be here if it wasn't for me," Bruce tried to argue. Always the glutton for punishment, even when the hand didn't need to be delivered to him.

"And they might have ended up far worse if it hadn't been for you," Dick spoke, his voice steady. He too hated seeing you like this - but if Bruce wasn't going to be the stable one then he had to take that burden. "If there's one thing in this world that people like us struggle to get... it's happiness. You found yours in (Y/N). Don't lose that because of one accident."

><

"Father."

It had been days since you had been admitted into the hospital. Yesterday morning you woke up sore, but alive. Bruce was yet to leave your side. Stubble littered his face from going days without shaving. A look that you weren't able to truly appreciate from being asleep half the time.

By this time the next day, you would be allowed to leave, but that didn't make your husband any less worried about your well being. Bruce still blamed himself for what happened, even after you had told him it wasn't his fault in the slightest. You could see the guilt on his face, just as he wore every time something went wrong with you involved.

"I brought you food," Damian held a bag of take-out in his hand. If he knew his father well enough, he'd know that he hadn't eaten anything all day. It was confirmed when he heard the loud growl of Bruce's stomach the moment that he got a whiff of the food in the room. "Eat."

"I'm not hungry," Bruce waved off his son. It was clear he was in need of something to eat, though he was too stubborn to take care of himself while you were in need. Even if it was just watching over you while you slept. Damian shoved the bag directly in front of his face until he reluctantly accepted.

"You need a shower," Damian's nose curled up. He stood looking down at his father. As worried as he had been, he also was acting immaturely. Refusing to take care of himself, constantly under surveillance while you were in good hands as it was. "(Y/N) will be perfectly safe with me. Go home. Get some sleep. We'll be here in the morning and ready to go home."

"I'm fine."

"You're not." Damian eyes the food until Bruce took a bite. It wasn't often that he was worried about his father, but it had been days since he had properly looked out for himself. It was clear how far his love for you went after seeing him like this. Or more so, his guilt for letting this happen. "Do you not trust me to take care of them?"

Bruce's jaw tightened. Truth was, he didn't trust anyone with you. Not even himself. Not even Clark. Damian took his silence as an answer. Of course not. Bruce couldn't trust him for a night out alone on patrol, how was he supposed to trust him with his partner?

"It's my fault they're here, Damian," Bruce sighed. "I've never been so scared before."

This was the first time that Damian had ever seen his father so truly vulnerable. Never in his life did Bruce admit that he was scared, yet here he was completely unscathed and terrified. Dick was right, he found complete and utter happiness in you, and the thought of losing you hurt more than anything else.

He wasn't just scared. He was horrified. Nothing in this world put more fear into him than seeing you suffer, or worse.

"It's not your fault, Father," Damian assured, just as his older brother had. "You always taught me to be brave, to face what scared me most. There's nothing wrong with feeling scared sometimes. It reminds us that we're human, that we're allowed to feel things. (Y/N) loves you, this won't change anything."

><

"Bruce would you stop hovering over me, I'm fine!"

You thought getting back to the manor would mean Bruce would finally be off your back about your injuries. It couldn't be more of the opposite. He was constantly trailing behind you, ready to give you aid whenever you needed it. Honestly, you weren't even that sore.

The brace on your neck was gone before you even left the hospital. Your dark bruises were lighter in color and the cuts that required stitches were healing just fine. The only noticeable injury was the cast on your arm, and you could still function just fine without it. Bruce was just being his overly-protective self.

"If I would have known that all I needed to do to get this much attention from you was to get myself hurt, I would have done it a long time ago," You tried to joke. He remained stoic about your comment, your health was no joking matter. You placed your palm on his cheek, the warmth of his skin being soaked up by your own.

"Seriously, hun, I feel perfectly fine. I'm just thankful for you being there." He didn't look convinced. There was nothing worse than failing you, and he had done exactly that.

"Except I wasn't there," he muttered. Bruce tilted his head in shame. He wasn't there to save you fast enough, he should have been. "I'm sorry, (Y/N). I'm so sorry that my life put yours at risk."

"Bruce, my love," your fingers caught under his chin. He reluctantly met your eyes. Shame filled his entire body, he was supposed to be able to save the world, and yet he couldn't save the one closest to him. "I will never blame you for anything like this. I need you to know that. No matter what happens to me, It will never be your fault."

"I love you," Bruce's lip trembled. You were quick to bring him into a kiss. After everything that he's done, the last thing that he deserved was guilt. "I can't live without you. You're my happiness, my everything. I was, I was so scared. I can't live without you, (Y/N)."

"And you'll never have to."

Taglist:

 @pricetagofficial​ @mora-miserium​  @babymango-writes​  @redrobin-yumm​  @simp-is-what-i-am​  @catsofsmoke​  @subtleappreciation​  @officiallydarkgeek​ @spiitfiires​  @pinkdiamond1016​  @childish-kiwi​  @givetimdrakeacoffee​  @gunnedrobin​   @local-fandom-trashcan  @bikoncon​  @foenixphire​

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

All Men Have Limits - IV

Character: Dick Grayson x Reader x Bruce Wayne

Summary: A certain bat believes that Y/N is in way over her head, that she’s too naive to act in her best interest. So, whether she wants it or not, the vigilante family is going to help and protect her before she gets herself killed.

Word Count: 3,800+

Previously on…

As Y/N packed her bags, she was also brainstorming her route once she got to her safe house. She’s just stay there for a couple of nights. Then she’d leave town. Gotham wasn’t safe for her right now. And if she was out of city limits, The Court of Owls had less influence. Though she didn’t doubt they’d send an assassin to the other side of the world to hunt her down.

Y/N looked around her extravagant room.

She doubted she’d ever be back here.

Things were getting…complicated.

It was a cruel reminder for why she kept to herself. People meant drama. Drama meant distractions. And distractions meant she wasn’t focused on the task at hand – which was bringing down the corrupt.

Y/N was just zipping up her duffle when there was a knock on her door.

“Come in!” She turned to see Dick walking in.

He eyed her bag. “What are you doing?”

“I was just about to go pack up my equipment in the cave.”

“No, you’re not. You’re staying here,” he confirmed.

She gave him a repulsed look. “Uhh…No, I am not. This mansion is about to be flooded with unidentified members of The Court.”

“Sure is,” Dick smirked. “But I have a solution.”

He held out his hand to show a bracelet. It looked expensive. The band was gold but there was a giant garnet gemstone at the center of it.

Dick handed it to Y/N.

“You shouldn’t have?” Y/N asked with confusion.

“I called in a favor with an old friend. She’s a magician.”

Y/N tried not to laugh, “A magician?”

Dick gave her a playful glare. “Yeah, a magician. But it’s not tricks and gimmicks. She knows actual magic.” He tapped the gemstone. “When you wear this, you’ll look like a different person. It’s a cloaking spell.”

“Why didn’t you guys suggest this right away?”

Dick sighed. “Bruce isn’t fond of metas and…magic.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier for me to just leave?”

“I would rather have you in disguise with our eyes on you, than have you out of reach,” he explained softly. “When you’re wearing this, all of us will still be able to see the real you. But not anyone else.”

“I don’t want to go to this stupid gala. I’ll just wear this and stay in my room or the cave.”

“Well…that’s the other part,” Dick cleared his throat awkwardly. “You’re gonna be my date.”

Y/N blinked in surprise. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone asked her on any kind of date. Not that Dick even asked. He more so told her.

“That wasn’t exactly a request, Dick.”

“Everyone knows everyone. If you’re by yourself, people will ask too many questions. But if you’re my date, no one will think twice why you’re there.”

“I-I don’t have anything to wear…”

Dick laughed lightly. “Alfred already sent out for a dress and shoes for you.”

“…why do I feel like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman?”

“Come on, Y/N. You know it’s not like that.”

Y/N remained annoyed.

“I’ll be here at your door around 8 tonight, k?” Dick gave her a soft smirk.

“Fine.”

———————

This was just another night for Dick. He’d been dragged to enough of these stupid galas to know the drill: wide smiles, forced laughter, and lay the charm on real thick. With the way this family handled their identities, they could’ve been a family of actors instead of vigilantes.

Dick straightened his cufflinks as he made his way to Y/N’s room.

He could hear the murmur’s of the guest from the ballroom, proving just how many people were attending for the sound to reach him in such a giant manor.

There was a part of Dick that half expected Y/N to be in her usual baggy sweaters and leggings when he opened the door. A silent protest that she wasn’t going to be anyone’s arm candy tonight.

Dick knew he didn’t give her much choice.

When his family had been discussing the situation, Dick tried to off to stay hidden out of sight with Y/N. But Alfred was having none of it. They all knew he took these events rather seriously. Especially one that was started and named after Bruce’s mother.

Dick knocked and turned his back to the door, he double checked there were no guests exploring where they shouldn’t be.

When the door opened, Dick turned around and was stunned to silence.

“Is this bracelet working on you or do I really look that bad?”

Y/N shifted as he stared at her like she’d cast a spell on him.

Dick was seeing Y/N. That was for sure.

“I see the dress fit,” he finally spoke.

What the hell was the matter with him? That’s really what he chose to say?

Though Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at the comment. “That it does.”

Dick woke up a bit and cleared his throat. “You look…beautiful.”

He never had a problem charming women. So why is he suddenly talking like a total cave man?

“Don’t look so surprised,” Y/N call him out teasingly. “Just because I dress like a scrub every day doesn’t mean I don’t know how to clean up.”

His brow furrowed at the first comment. “You’ve never looked like a scrub, Y/N.”

OK. OK. He was getting back to his normal self.

“Well…” Y/N broke eye contact from her bashfulness. “Thank you.”

Dick held out the hook of his arm. “Shall we?”

Y/N inhaled, “Right.”

As soon as she hooked her hand onto Dick’s bicep, a wave of relief washed over her. She wasn’t doing this alone; she was doing this with him at her side.

“So, what’s the the plan here?” Y/N asked nervously.

“The plan is to blend in. Don’t talk to any press. And…” He smirked. “It wouldn’t hurt to try and have a good time.”

“Right. I’ll try to do that while I’m in a room possibly filled with people who want me dead…” Y/N sighed.

“Not ‘possibly.’ There will be.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes at him. “Way to make me feel better, Dick.”

He laughed. “You’ll be fine. I’ll be with you the whole time. Damian, Tim, and Bruce will be there, too. And somehow Alfred convinced Jason to even make an appearance. You’re not in this alone, Y/N.”

“Mhmm,” Y/N answered as they arrived to the party. She didn’t bother hiding that she was still extremely nervous and on edge.

“I did really mean it,” Dick told her quietly.

His tone made Y/N tear her eyes away from the party to look at him. “Really mean what?”

“You look beautiful.”

His words didn’t fumble this time. He was confident and clear, leaving no room for doubt or insincerity.

Y/N gave him a shy smile.

“I’m guessing a drink would make this a bit easier, huh?” Dick offered.

“Yes. Yes, it would.”

Dick guided her to the nearest bar.

All the staff knew what the Wayne family looked like. Which meant the bartended skipped over all other guests and b-lined for Dick when he requested a drink, and then looked to Y/N to order what she wanted.

There was loud laughter from a group of people near them. Followed by a voice that Y/N thought she knew, but still sounded a bit off.

When Y/N looked over, she realized it was Bruce talking to a group of guests, who were absolutely fawning over him. He was smiling and laughing, and taking very frequent sips of his drink.

This was Bruce Wayne: the character. Charming playboy, debatable narcissist, and spoiled brat. But in the eyes of Gotham’s elite, he could do no wrong.

Y/N wondered if Bruce had ever considered bringing her as his date. ‘Don’t you start,’ said a voice inside her head.

Dick followed her eye line.

“Doesn’t it make you nauseous watching him like this?” Y/N mumbled.

“Not Dick. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” Jason answered.

Dick and Y/N turned to see Jason and Damian.

Yes, Dick adopted Bruce’s charm. But he didn’t rip himself into pieces, building characters that were unrecognizable to the people who actually knew him. Dick’s charm was a part of his personality. His flirtations came naturally. But he only used them on people he intended on building a genuine connection with. (Though Nightwing was guilty of using said charm on targets during missions a few times.)

Y/N looked around for Tim and saw him talking to what appeared to be serious businessman. He was the only one carrying on the legacy at Wayne Enterprises. If any of the boys needed to be here, it was Tim.

“Shouldn’t you guys be making rounds or something?” Y/N asked.

Jason shrugged. “People only cared about us when we were cute kids. Now we’re just spoiled adults who are the product of nepotism.” He smirked down at Damian. “But this one isn’t out of the clear yet.”

“Don’t remind me,” Damian groaned. “At the last one, a woman pinched my cheeks as if I was some toddler.”

“I thought I was about to watch him murder someone,” Dick added.

“I wanted to,” Damian clarified.

Dick started talking to Jason about something.

It provided Y/N the perfect window with the youngest Wayne. 

“I’ll sneak you alcohol if you do a mercy killing for me,” she offered Damian.

The boy looked amused but gave no indication that a deal was made.

“Your date that awful?” Jason teased as he smirked at Dick, who ignored him.

“Do you have the hearing of a dog? Fuckin’ Christ.”

The four of them stuck together for most of the night. Tim would touch base with them every so often. But he kept getting dragged away by board members or partners or anyone that wanted to kiss the ass of the future head of Wayne Enterprises.

Dick and Y/N were laughing at Jason about something when Dick’s face suddenly fell as he spotted something on the other side of the room.

“God damn it, Damian.” Dick hissed as he put his drink down on the nearest counter. He turned to Y/N. “I’ll be right back. Stay here.”

Y/N just nodded.

But then Jason seemed to spot the youngest brother as well.

“I should probably help him and do some damage control,” Jason sighed.

Y/N laughed and nodded for him to go ahead.

“Now you can see why I avoid these shit shows.”

She laughed but pushed him away, “Go help Dick.”

Now that Y/N was alone, her senses was hyper focused on the party around her.

As she reached for her drink, she noticed that her surrounding area had gone eerily quiet. And she felt far too many eyes on her. There were hushed whispers and even gasps. 

“Would you care to dance?” A voice asked from behind her.

Y/N’s entire body tensed.

She turned to see Bruce waiting patiently for her response.

But the look on his face was that of a man she didn’t know.

Bruce had a charming glitter in his eyes and his smirk was arrogant.

Y/N looked around at their audience, then at the dance floor. She was desperately trying to remember the last time she danced with someone.

“Umm…I don’t really know how–” her words came out so slowly.

“How to dance?” Bruce offered.

Y/N nodded.

“You just need a good partner,” he reassured her as he held out a hand.

‘What a fucking line,’ Y/N thought as she tried not to roll her eyes. She half expected him to add a wink.

Bruce guided her to the center of the dance floor and then pulled her closer with his right hand while his left wrapped around her hand.

Y/N wasn’t expecting him to pull her so close, but their body’s were now pressed together.

Bruce moved his mouth to her ear. “Relax,” he murmured.

“It’s hard to relax when you’re using me to set up your new flavor of the week,” she criticized. “Everyone is watching us.”

Bruce may be used to such scrutiny, but Y/N had zero experience with it. And it was safe to say she hated it.

“They’re not looking at me. They’re looking at you,” Bruce corrected.

“A woman who’s not even me. It’s just the dress.”

“I’m happy you like it, seeing as I picked it out,” he commented smugly.

Y/N’s chest tightened at the revelation.

“I see the real you right now, and that’s who I asked to dance.”

Y/N wanted to make a run for it. She didn’t want Bruce with an audience. She just wanted him to herself and she wanted him as he really was.

But her brain shut down for just this song and she followed her heart.

If Y/N concentrated hard enough, she could ignore all the invasive gawking. If she closed her eyes, it was just her and Bruce. So, Y/N tucked her head into his shoulder and let Bruce glide them across the floor.

Somehow she felt that Bruce was allowing himself this as well.

One song was not enough for what they both needed and wanted.

But Y/N would take what she could.

Though what she did not expect was to finally pull away to see Bruce looking utterly heartbroken. As if pulling away from her was the hardest thing he’d ever have to do. And for the first time, Y/N legitimately considered that Bruce might want the same thing as she did.

He’ll just never act on his feelings.

If Y/N had blinked, she could’ve missed the moment of honesty and vulnerability Bruce had colored all across his face – bleeding from his eyes.

Because, the next moment, the character was back.

As the party clapped for the band, someone called Bruce’s name. And their locked stare was broken.

And just like that, Y/N was snapped back to reality as if someone threw a bucket of freezing water over her.

Now that Bruce had moved on, no one bothered to keep their voices down. And the upperclass women of Gotham made it loud and clear that they were not pleased with Y/N’s presence.

“Seems he’s found his next prey.”

“She looks half his age, of course he would go for her. Typical man.”

“She’ll eventually learn like we all did.”

“I still say he was the best lay I ever had.”

“Remember when we both slept with him in the same week?”

Now Y/N wasn’t just brought back to reality – she was put in her place.

Before she could even realize what was happening to stop it, her eyes were filled with tears. She had to get out of there.

“Excuse me,” Y/N whispered desperately and she tried to push her way through the crowd.

As soon as she made it outside, she let out a gasp. The fresh air helped, but it wasn’t enough.

There wasn’t any guests outside, but Y/N didn’t feel a safe enough distance from the party. The gardens and maze were in her peripheral and it took her all of two seconds to decide that would be her safe haven.

She hurried through the maze and prayed that no drunken couples had tried to also sneak away from prying eyes. 

But when Y/N reached the center of the maze, she was alone.

A fountain sat in the middle and the sound of its moving water calmed Y/N down a bit. But even that couldn’t stop her tears from finally escaping.

Y/N sat on the edge of the fountain as she tried to get a hold of herself. She could only imagine what this was doing her makeup that she spent an hour doing. 

‘What a waste,’ she thought.

Her escape was short lived. 

Dick called her name repeatedly from a distance.

Y/N panicked at the idea of him catching her crying. She quickly tried to hide any evidence of tears and pull herself together.

Dick finally caught up and let out a sigh of relief from behind her.

“Y/N, you can’t run off like that,” he tried to tell her.

He opened his mouth to lecture her further, but when he finally made it around the fountain and was facing her, his concern shifted. 

“What’s wrong? What happened?”

“Nothing,” Y/N struggled to speak without sounding nasally. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. You were crying.”

“I’m fine,” she tried to laugh. “Seriously, Dick.”

But he wasn’t having any of it. He moved to sit next to her on the edge of the fountain. Without hesitating, he wrapped an around her shoulder and pulled her into him.

“Come here,” he muttered softly.

Why did it feel so natural for him to do that? Like he’d done it a million times before?

He rubbed her arms. “Jesus. You’re freezing.”

Then he was taking off his suit jacket and putting it over her shoulders. But he didn’t miss a beat, quickly bringing her back into his arms again.

“Wanna tell me what’s got you so upset?” Dick asked after a few minutes of silently comforting her.

“It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid to me if it made you cry.”

Y/N took in a shaky breath, feeling like she was on the cusp of crying again. “I’m just like the rest of them.”

Dick waited, feeling like she needed to say more before he spoke.

“They were whispering terrible things. But it was everything I already knew. I’m just another stupid girl that managed to convince herself that she was different.”

Dick was silent as he processed his words. It wasn’t hard for him to know Y/N was talking about Bruce, even thought she never uttered his name. 

“I’ve got an idea,” Dick announced. “Let’s ditch this stupid gala. Get out of these clothes. Put on some sweatpants. And I’ll have Alfred order us as much pizza and wings as you want.”

Now Y/N wanted to cry for a completely different reason.

Dick was the sweetest man she’d ever met.

“Sound like a plan?” He asked her when she didn’t respond and instead just stared into his blue eyes.

Y/N nodded.

“We can even invite my good-for-nothing brothers if that’ll make you happy.”

Her first instinct was to say yes. They all amused her beyond belief. Watching the way they all interacted with each other was like watching a reality show. And it was always obvious how much they loved each other deep down – even with Damian, who would rather die than admit such a thing.

But if all of them were included, who knew when Bruce would eventually make an appearance. And Y/N just didn’t think she could be in a room with him again tonight. 

“Just you and me,” she clarified.

That seemed to please Dick and he nodded. 

“Just you and me,” he confirmed as he offered her a hand up. 

When they started walking back to the manor, Dick wrapped an arm around her shoulder, keeping her close to his side.

“I’m going to ask you a question and I need you to be completely honest with me,” but she said it through a smile.  

Dick looked a bit nervous, but nodded. “Alright.”

“Do you know how to order takeout on your own?”

Dick threw his head back and laughed. “How dare you!”

He pinched her waist, making her yelp. But he didn’t let her escape his hold. “Yes, I do. In fact, when I’m at my own place, I live off takeout. And let me tell you, no one can order food quite like I can. Thank you very much.”  

Once they reached the second floor of the manor, the two of them parted ways to changed out of their fancy clothes.

Y/N washed her face, scrubbing the layers of makeup off. But before she could rid herself of the evidence, she noticed the smeared mascara and eyeliner. 

Words could not describe the relief of putting on baggy sweatpants and a hoodie and fluffy socks after wearing a fitted gown and high heels.

30 minutes later, just as promised, Dick was bringing up a huge pizza and a box of wings to Y/N’s bedroom.

They ate on the floor. Dick managed to light the fireplace that was in there, because Y/N didn’t know what to do with the thing. The television was on, but neither of them were watching it. It was simply white noise.

Two hours later, Y/N was laughing so hard at a story Dick was telling her that she had tears in her eyes and her stomach hurt.

“I don’t believe you!”

“I’m not kidding. Ask Jason. He took my clothes and I was ass naked, running through the streets of Gotham. I wanted to kill him.”

Y/N grabbed another wing and got sauce all over her face.

“What?” She asked when Dick was watching her with adoration. “Do I have sauce on my face?”

He tried to hide his smile. “Nope.”

She knew he was lying and then purposely smeared more sauce around her lips. “How about now? Do I have anything now?”

“No. Nothing.”

“On a scale of 1 to 10, how attractive am I right now?” Y/N laughed as she wiped the sauce off her face with napkins.

“11,” Dick responded without hesitating.

The playfulness was sucked out of the room when they both heard how serious his tone was.

Y/N’s face went somber as she looked down at the floor. “I’m sorry I didn’t dance with you.” She laughed lightly, “I’m a lousy date, huh?”

“That’s not true,” he immediately shot down. “This is the most fun I’ve had…” His words died out when he realized he couldn’t even remember. “Well, it’s the most fun I’ve had in awhile.”

“Me too,” she replied with a quiet sweetness.

Through her full-body laughter, she had moved closer to Dick without realizing it.

He glanced at her lips. He just couldn’t help himself. 

The thing about Dick wearing his heart on his sleeve was that it was nearly impossible for him to hide his feelings, his desires. It was all in those blue eyes of his, waiting to easily be read by someone.  

And while Y/N looked at him looking at her, she felt beautiful. Because that was all Dick could possibly think as he stared at her.

Neither knew who leaned in first. Perhaps this was their dance that they weren’t able to have earlier.

But they made up for it by sharing an impassioned kiss now. 

Dick’s lips were softer than Y/N expected. His hands gripped her waist possessively, making it very clear what he wanted – but still being ever so gentle and soft with his touches.

One of Dick’s hands moved from her waist up her back to tangle his fingers in her hair. He tugged on the strands and pulled her closer, deepening the kiss.

They both could slightly taste the pizza and wings on each other’s lips, but neither of them cared at all.

The kiss didn’t last long enough for either of their liking.

But Y/N pulled away anyways, gasping for air a bit.

“I’m sorry,” she sighed. 

“You don’t have to be sorry,” he whispered through hooded eyes as he brushed some hair away from her face. “I’ve been wanting to do that for awhile,” he added with a smirk.

But Y/N wasn’t really sorry about the kiss. 

She was sorry because she knew that things were far more complicated than ever.

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

Part V

Happy Valentine’s Day!!! 

Please, please, please write me a book report of what he thought of this chapter. It will be your VDay gift to me 😘

[writing-blog-iguess]

Do you have any headcanons about the insecurities fic you wrote about? I can't help but headcanon a lot, like:

both Harley & Ivy enjoys watching reader finishing her food, they also call her their mom since reader has been making them food since their first meet (Harley loves her egg sandwich, while Ivy was the baked potatoes bread)

Alfred always bakes matcha swiss roll with red bean paste or pastries that's easy too shallow with reader (so that she could shallow without feeling like choking and needs to drink a lot of water) whenever she stops by and keeps giving him hugs which he gladly return it everytime, the Alferd&Y/N's hug, is what everyone comments it

Dicks showing pictures he took of seven years old (a journey of Y/N's growing he calls) and then reader to all his teammates and the league as soon as he learnt the engagement's finally announce 'Look at this! Can't you imagine?! She's my little sister! This is when she seven years old! It's very heartwarming right blah blah blah... " and that's how the other superheros and older Teen Titans and Barbara knows how much Dick adore his future little sister-in-law who's s cinnamon roll

Sassy and baddass way to talk for so people won't dare mess up with her confidence (Jason help her built up, after he met her and quick into adoption of her, siblings!) Not that he would ever admit, Jason will sent glares to whoever who diss Y/N's like to children picture books (for example, The Guardians of Childhood aka inspiration of Rise of the Guardians movie) come on, his little sister had great taste in books!

Tim forbid her drinking coffee when they first met and even after (since he nearly caused a seven-years-old gone missing in the manor after the reader can't fall asleep decided to have a exploration situation) but will make it for her sometimes later after she used to it, made account for art websites she wants to register that so she can admire arts but underage back when childhoods, so he used it under his own only name (defiantly annoymus, and no, it's not illegal website) and every then and how

Makeover and dress-up with Barbara, Stephanie and Cassandra after they learnt of her (which they give Damian few lessons of 'how to treat the girl you like' with Dick who's extremely enjoy it, Jason and Tim who's enjoy the show all day), in the end, all heads to movie since it's sister bond time and apparently, the ideas of XL caramel popcorns and coke are the best choice!

Bruce pat or ruffle her hair softly everytime they met, a habit since the day he had ten years ago when she's seven, a touch of 'my daughter is growing up' feel will seldom appears in his heart

Damian from straightly ingored to slowly falls in love with reader after everytime he saw her sincere smile whenever she enjoyed Alfred's food heartily (like this, but a more faintly heartwarming one haha, at the very last pic, not sure if you could see it, so here's another link you could try out☺☺ )

Innocent, 'naive girl playing tough' charm whenever she and Damian together alone (first kiss, cuddling, hair massaging, teasing, which he finds not annoying because it's how really she is, and he enjoys keep on trailing and turn on her wildness)

How reader slowly felt left out though it didn't really occur me, just the thought of Batfam night activity and how we're isolating from each other slowly and inoccasionally when growing up just made me feel that way, you know, the feelings of it's not the same like it used to anymore😞😞

And once again, thank you so much for accepting my request at the beginning, I've been having this thought in my mind but I just couldn't write it, I'm so glad you accepted it and it's totally the way I want☺☺ (And about part 2 Talia which you accepted it too, I hope my words didn't scare you out lol... I'm too exciting that day...) Hope you have a very good day ahead, author!

Tumblr really needs to let me know when I have something in my inbox, I swear.

Of course! I loved writing it, and I’m glad you enjoyed it. No, your words didn’t scare me lol, I’m just outlining part 2 and I hope you love it just as much. With that said, and you don’t mind the wait, send in your ideas! I love reading them.

Okay, onto the headcanons! I love these! I put mine under the readmore, there's a bit;

Y/N didn’t have the best home life. Like I’m not saying abusive, just her parents neglected her a little. And it didn’t help that her whole life was planned for. So when she met Harley and Ivy, they basically went, you’re mine now no take backsies. And y/n just rolls with it, because through them, she finds out what it feels to be loved by someone who cares about you. This of course, she keeps from her parents and the day she turned eighteen, she moved out and it was a lot easier to hang out with those two.

Ever since knowing Harley and Ivy, y/n’s been slowly getting out of her shell. When she starts to hang out with Jason, she becomes more confident. She has Jason wrapped around her finger without even knowing

The girls love her, everyone loves her and Damian’s just, why

She loves cooking, and she even swaps recipes with Alfred. (even from the beginning of the whole arrangement) she became fast friends with Alfred first before everyone else.

y/n has known Damian since his first day of school. But I’m not going to lie, y/n was kind of scared Damian.

She got so offended when Tim took away her coffee when she wanted to try it. And when she became a regular coffee drinker, they would talk about different coffees they had tried and compare notes.

When the arranged marriage was first brought up in conversation, there was a lot of protests. Especially from Dick and Damian, but Bruce just shrugged saying that it was a good match. And if they don’t get married in the end, than that’s fine. Everyone was very confused but stopped bringing it up

They have theories though about the whole thing, the most popular one in the manor is that Bruce is looking for the next Robin when Damian hangs up the Robin cape to be someone else

When Bruce announced that, everyone did their own research about y/n. Everyone but Damian agreed but she must be protected, though it kind of blows up when they kind of cast her aside when she started hanging out with them at the manor, (but that’s not until later)

She and Damian have lunch together everyday at school, much to Damian’s displeasure. And he’s mean to her at the beginning, ignoring her and whatnot. She doesn’t do anything cuz she hates this setup just as much

But slowly, she starts to catch feels but keeps it to herself.

As you said, Damian takes longer to fall in love with her. And its one of those moments when she looks at peace within his family and it just hits him like ‘oh. Oh no I’m in love and I can’t tell anyone this’ and he doesn’t. So up until they confess to each other, their just pinning after each other and people who aren’t family sees that their in love but no know says anything

However, they do get more cuddly when they’re alone. Like, they don’t kiss or anything. But when they have movie nights, y/n’s curled up on the end of the couch with Damian’s head on her lap. And she’s always plays with his hair, of runs her fingers through it and Damian has discovered that it feels nice and helps him to de-stress

She knows when he’s stressed about something, so her just pats her lap and he grumbles about it but is secretly happy (they have been caught on multiple occasions by his brothers and they chooses to ignore them

She’s been so use to feeling alone, that being with people who care feels foreign to her

When she starts to feel like she’s alone again, she doesn’t see it until it’s too late

It starts off slowly, the fam is to busy with missions and saving the world that they kind of forget they she doesn’t know, and when she comes over, their not there or just brushes her off when she is. And she’s tried to talk to them, cuz she’s spend years being a part of their family but then one day it stopped.

But they just brush her off and she’s reminded about her parents so she stops pushing and then altogether stops going to the manor.

No one really realizes at first, only Alfred, and when they do, y/n had already broken off the engagement.

[lilcoffeecup]

Family Lost,Family Found

This is my entry for the fluff/angst Maribat April. This is the angst piece to @i-love-being-weird‘s fluff piece. Its not very long, I hope you enjoy it and if you have a chance go check out the fluff piece (it’s really good) :) @maribat-angst-fluff-april

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

Life on the streets had always been hard for Jason, not knowing when his next meal would be or if he would have to endure another beatdown when he wouldn’t pay the ‘monthly tax’ to the two-bit criminal working for Black Mask. He hadn’t expected to have this weird feeling in his chest that made him want to protect her from all the bad things in life. In Crime Alley it was survival of the fittest and if you wanted to survive you were only supposed to look after yourself, only yourself. Somehow though, there she was, shivering in the rain and looking as thin as a twig which would break if simply touched.  

“Hey, its raining out, you should go back home, it’s not safe to be out here”

“I-I don’t ha-have a-a home or any wh-where to g-go”

“Well come on then, I know a place” “Wh-where?” “A lil’ up ahead, you’re shaking like a leaf so hurry up”

Upon reaching the building, Jason could see that the little girl was still shaking, it made sense though since unlike him who was only a little bit wet, she was soaked to the bone.

“Here, blueberry” Jason hands Marinette a blanket, “warm up, this place doesn’t have heating, so these blankets are all we got” gesturing to the pile of worn-out blankets which had definitely seen better days.  For the first time in a long time both Marinette and Jason feel asleep knowing that they were not alone.

Over the next few weeks, Jason and Marinette, who Jason had taken to calling pixie, became inseparable, things were somewhat good, running errands for some thugs got Jason money for food and he didn’t feel lonely ever since pixie came into his life. Jason should have known that it wouldn’t last, money was dwindling as fast as it was coming and the time for the monthly payment was coming up. He hadn’t realized how hard it would be when it wasn’t only him that he had to look out for, but also pixie, his little sister not by blood but by love.

Over the next few days Marinette could see that something had been bothering Jason, but every time she asked, he said nothing and tried to change the subject.

“Jay-Jay, what’s wrong, you seem so much more on edge for the past few days?” “Hmm, oh its nothing pixie, I scored this somewhat fresh loaf of bread today, here” Jason said, giving the loaf to Marinette and only ripping off a tiny piece. Marinette heard the rumble of Jason’s stomach and looked at him questionably, he had been getting thinner and she couldn’t help but think that it was her fault. Ripping off a big chunk of the loaf, she handed it to Jason, “Jay-Jay you need to eat, don’t think I haven’t noticed you giving me most of the food, you need it more than me” “No pix, I already ate, I brought this for you” “Bu- “. Jason cut Marinette off, “No buts pixie, you need to eat or you’re going to be a twig forever!” “Hey! I’m not a twig” “Then eat pixie” Marinette huffed then mumbled out a “fine”.

Marinette had been meaning to do something for Jason for a while now and she found her opportunity when she came upon a fruit stall, the owner was busy talking to someone, so she quickly swiped an apple. While walking away she beamed, “Jason’s gonna love it!” she thought. She was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she didn’t notice the two men looking at her with knowing eyes.

“Hey! Isn’t that the kid whose been hanging around with the Todd brat these days?” “Yeah, I’ve word on the street is that she’s his sister or somethin’” The taller man, Mark, smirks, “well, well, well, guess we found the Todd brat’s weakness now”. The other man, Bill, smirks as well “collection time is coming up soon anyways, why not send a lil’ reminder”

2 blocks away from her and Jason’s hideout, Marinette was sure to hide her loot so that no prying eyes would see anything, this was for Jason and no one else. All of a sudden, she heard a holler behind her and spun around, immediately on edge.

“Hey kid! you’re with that Todd brat aren’t cha, his sister?” They didn’t wait for a response, just barreled into her, knocking her to the ground. “See, ya brother usually ends up comin’ up late on payments so we thought a lil’ incentive would nice, saves us the hassle of having to track the brat down and him a beating, ya know”  

Before she could get up and run, she felt the wind get knocked out of her by a kick to her stomach, then her ribs, she curled into herself as tight as she could, but they kept on kicking her. She hadn’t even realized when they had stopped and left, she hurt all over and farther ahead was a mushed apple with a section bitten off suggesting that someone had taken a bite then crushed it with their shoe.

Crying, bleeding, and defeated, Marinette limped back to the abandoned building she and Jason had huddled up in. As soon as she got in, she was faced by a worried Jason. “Pixie!! Where were you, I came back and you weren’t here, I was so worried something had happe- “Jason cut himself off. “Pixie, what happened to you? Where did all these bruises come from, just give me the name and I swear they won’t ever touch you again”

“I don’t know their names, but they said something about beating me up as incentive for them not having to track you down for payments and for you to avoid a beating”, Jason felt a cold shiver run down his spine. He had been worried about this month’s payment date was creeping closer and closer and how he didn’t have enough, again. He had heard that the tires business had been doing well in the Black Shack, the place where most stolen things were fenced. He would have to make sure to try and score some, and cash in a few favours to try and scrounge up the money. Batman usually stuck to the city and here, in Crime Alley, there was no Batman that was gonna swoop in and save him or pixie if he wasn’t able to pay up in time.

Jason spent almost all of the next day trying to scope out any potential places he could hit and while he was able to get some loot, it wasn’t enough. It was already after dusk and the night had set in, and he knew he better get back soon since the later at night, the more dangerous it is. Just 1 or 2 buildings before his destination, he saw it, the bat-mobile, basking under the moonlight like a gift from above, and just by looking at it he could tell that they were custom. This would easily be able to cover the rest of the payment and he could get that plushie pixie had been staring at the other day.

He first made sure that no one was nearby, it wouldn’t do for someone to try and claim his prize before he could. Confirming an all clear, or as clear as it could be for the time of night, he got to work on the tires. He was almost done taking out the 3rd tire when he heard someone around him and whipped around so fast, he was sure he would feel it in his neck later. He couldn’t see the person but definitely felt someone’s eyes on him.

“Whoever you are, beat it, I found this first so it’s mine, go find your own!”.  The response startled him, as the person came out of the shadows, “This is my car, so I don’t think I’ll beat it”, it was the Batman, and Jason felt as if those white lenses were piercing into his very being. “Ho-Holy shit, you’re the Batman!” “Yes, yes, I am, now could you put the tires back on my car?” “I-I can’t, I need the money, not all of us can afford to live lavishly like you, judging by your custom tires” “Why do you need the money, kid?” “None of your business” Jason sneered, he was getting sick of this, he had hidden the other tires well so he could come back for them tomorrow, he needed to get out of here ASAP. “Where do you think you’re going kid?” Batman asked just as Jason was about to turn and make a run for it, Jason didn’t bother to give him a response just made a mad dash for it.

He didn’t get far when Batman caught up to him, “Kid, I need you to put my tires back on” ‘this isn’t worth it’ Jason thought and decided that he would put the tires back then get back to pixie straight after. As soon as Jason had finished putting back all the tires, he was just about to get the hell out of there when he heard Batman “Get in kid” and knew that he couldn’t leave pixie all alone.

“No, I’m not going with you, you sicko! I already fixed your tires, what else do you want from me!” He struggled “The streets aren’t a safe place for kids, you’re coming with me” “No, let me go! I can’t leave her alone! You don’t understand! Let go!!” “Who her? Is there someone living with you?” Jason mentally hit himself, ‘how could he expose pixie! No, he couldn’t tell him about her!’. “No-one” Jason said as he was huddled into the bat mobile.

It was a few weeks until Jason was able to get out of the Manor and back to Crime Alley to check on pixie. When he reached the abandoned building, there was no pixie in sight, and almost nothing that would tell that anyone had lived there. Finding out through the grapevine, it turned out that pixie had been sold to a tourist couple in the façade of an adoption to pay off the debt that had built up in Jason’s absence. He had failed to protect her, failed to keep her away from all the bad things and now because of Jason’s mistakes, she was paying the price. He swore that he would find her and that when he did, he would never let her go, ever.

It had been years since that fateful night, Jason missed and thought of his little sister every day, he had given up hope on finding her after the first 2 years. Lost in thought, he didn’t realize bumping into a petite black-haired girl carrying a coffee walking out of a café that he and pixie would go to on special days if the had enough money. “Sorry mister, didn’t see you there, would you happen to know where the Wayne Enterprises building is?” “Don’t apologize, it was my fault too, lost in thought, I was just heading there myself, I can show you”. “Thank you so much!”

Jason couldn’t help but be reminded of his little pixie when looking at this girl, he felt his chest tighten up at the thought. “Hey mister, are you okay? you seem to have spaced out a bit” the girl asked. “No, I’m fine, you just remind me of someone who I miss a lot” “Funny enough, you remind me of someone I used to know and cherish a lot when I used to live here”.

“You used to live here?” Jason asked, he would definitely not have been able to tell had she not pointed it out. “Yeah, but it was a long time ago, I used to live in Crime Alley with my brother but got separated and haven’t seen him since” the girl said with a sad and pained face.

“We’re here!” Jason said as they reached the building, “Thanks for all the help mister!” said the girl and was about to walk away when Jason’s had realized that they had never introduced themselves, “Hey! What’s your name?”. The girl turned around and smiled “Sorry, I totally forgot to introduce myself, Hi, I’m Marinette” Marinette stuck out her hand, Jason shook it and said “Hey, I’m Jason”. Both thought ‘that’s her/his name! It can’t be thoug-‘ they didn’t have time to finish their though before a teenager about the age of Marinette with a coffee cup in hand and a younger child came into view.

What the younger said, shook Marinette to her core, not going unnoticed by the rest, “Todd! Finally, you show up Father and Drake have been waiting for you!”. “Marinette? What happened? You look like you’ve seen a ghost”, Jason looked concerningly at Marinette, “You-you’re na-name is Jason Todd?” “Yeah…why?” Jason was getting worried now but felt as if the word has stopped when he heard what Marinette said next.

Her voice cracking, Marinette spoke so quietly, almost as if whispering “Jay-Jay? Is that you?” Jason almost broke into sobs right in the lobby of W.E., could this really be happening? “Pixie, that you?”. Marinette immediately threw herself into Jason’s chest, and nodded “Ye-yeah it’s me, oh my God, jay-jay I thought I would never be able to see you again, are you really here, tell me this isn’t another dream because I don’t ever want to wake up if it is”. Jason started rubbing soothing circles on her back while shedding his own tears, “Shhh, it’s okay Pixie, it’s me, I’m really here, this is real and I thought I would never see you again either” “God pix, I’m so, so, sorry I left you all alone, I looked for you everywhere but never found you”. “Please don’t leave me again” Marinette sobbed, “I don’t want to lose you again”. Jason felt even more tears pooling and dripping from his eyes, “Never pixie, I will never leave you, ever.” 

Jason tightly hugged Marinette, “I missed you Jay-Jay” “I missed you too Pixie,  I missed you too”. 

~fin.

[danny-chase]

Dick Grayson Week Day 4

Prompt: Bruce hits Dick and doesn’t get away with it

Summary/Notes:

A Spyral fixit where the family finds out about Nightwing 30. Perspectives are from Tim and Jason, but Steph, Cass, and Damian make an appearance. Quotes taken from Forever Evil 7 and 8, and Nightwing 30. Tw for swearing, angst and domestic/child abuse (because canon is terrible and I can’t leave it the way it is).

Edit: I have an AO3 account now yay! Read here

“I’ll be right back.” Tim chirped as he left to pull some files out of his room. He could feel his friends’ gazes lingering on him as he left. He had to suppress an eye roll. He was fine. Your pseudo-dad/adopted-father-before-you-emancipated-yourself loses his memory and suddenly everyone thinks there’s something wrong with you. Figures. Bruce was happier this way. And maybe, one day, he’d be able to get to know him again. Maybe not as sorta-father and son. But Bruce 2.0 liked volunteering with kids, running charity events. Maybe they could be business partners, or coworkers. It wasn’t like last time. But that didn’t mean Cassie, Bart and Kon weren’t worried. No matter how many times he tried to explain, they wouldn’t listen. It was better this way. Bruce was happier without them. Without him. It stung at first sure, but he was over it. He could handle it. Even if the knot in his stomach told him otherwise.

His fingers brushed the lines on the hallway as he strode through Titan’s Tower. The halls seemed so much smaller than they used to be. Logically, he knew they were the same size. But they weren’t the same walls as when he’d first visited. And those hadn’t even been the first wall either. “We’ve had to rebuild this place like at least a million times.” Dick had told him. The knot tightened. Don’t think about it, he reprimanded himself. He’d been having a nice afternoon. It was relaxing, staying with his friends. But he couldn’t walk through the halls without feeling like a trespasser. This was Dick’s team. This was his home away from home. Who was he kidding? He was no Dick Grayson. Dick’s friends used to look to him for guidance, for advice, for help with problems, personal and business related. Tim used to look to him for guidance, advice and help. Stop thinking about him, he tried again. Forget the Crime Syndicate. Forget the funeral. Don’t stress, repress. He paused for a moment, stared aimlessly out the window, took a few deep breaths, cleared his mind and continued on his way.

Climbing the stairs, he decided it was better to use his mental faculties to go through the case he was working on. Jason had called two days ago asking about some of his old informants in Gotham, Penguin was apparently moving back onto the scene and reorganizing the structure of some of the newer gangs. Cleaning house. Informants were switching names, following their own protocols. Bruce had written some contingency in a classified file somewhere. The issue was where. The damn batcomputer had like a billion files on it. And Barbara knew the system, but was busy coordinating for the JLA and had put them on “Do not Disturb” mode for the foreseeable future. He could write a program to search for it. Stupid Bruce and his stupid files that he’d kept secret from them. “It was on a need to know basis.” He could almost here the defensiveness in Bruce’s voice if he tried hard enough. He nearly face planted as he miscalculated the number of stairs. Maybe they should just go back to their old Young Justice base. Or wait till the building inevitably explodes again and just make it better. That would be fun. Designing a Teen Titans base with slides and escalators. Bart would be thrilled. Bart could probably build it in 5 minutes. Dick wouldn’t approve, his brain felt the need to remind him. Tim nearly huffed. Well Dick is de-.

He abruptly lost his train of thought. There was noise coming from his room. Someone was sniffing, was someone crying in his room? Who was even in his room? Everyone was downstairs. Cissie and Steph were visiting in the lounge, Greta left a few days ago, the new kids were in the gym getting a feel for the equipment. The hell? His heart pounded a bit louder as he silently slunk towards his rooms. If Dick decided to haunt him from beyond the grave this was not cool. The lights flickered. Tim nearly screamed. He could feel cold sweat gathering in his palms, his heart racing, thoughts pounding in his skull. It’s just one of Bart’s pranks, no one can get in without access. He slid next to his door and pulled up the camera feed on his glove’s embedded computer. They weren’t in lockdown, but it couldn’t hurt to check. Few clicks here, few taps there and…Damian? Tim burst through the door, half relieved and fully confused.

“What are you doing here?” Tim half yelled, Damian startling on the bed as he burst into his room. Tim flicked the lights on as the gremlin crossed his arms in response. Tim shut the soundproof door, no need to bother Kon with this.

“I was given access to the tower as well.” He stated monotonously. Tim frowned; something was off. Damian didn’t just show up in his room. Come to think of it, he hadn’t seen the kid in weeks. Not since Bruce went all amnesiac on them. Where was he even staying. Damian shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. There were dark circles under his eyes, he was paler than usual, but flushed, his eyes bright. Had he been crying in here? “Quit gawking at me, Drake.” He spat, jolting Tim back into reality.

He almost opened his mouth to throw some insult back. Almost. He saw the kid’s lip tremble just so slightly, and he bit his tongue. The kid’s hands were shaking. “What’s up?” He replied cautiously. Keeping the demon brat in line wasn’t in his job description. But the kid had had a rough couple months. Dying, coming back to Dick being dead, Bruce losing his memory. He could help with whatever this was and-

“Grayson is alive.”

-send the kid back to Alfred, he knew the kid better than he did. He had his pets at the manor to keep him company, maybe he’d see if Jon would be willing to have a sleepover or something. Spring break was coming up soon, maybe he could take a trip out to Kansas-

“Drake!” Damian was waving a hand in front of his face. Tim blinked a few times. He hadn’t said…had he? That wasn’t right Dick was-

“Richard is alive, I can prove it.” There was desperation in the kid’s voice, water in his eyes. The trash can was filled with tissues, it had been empty when he left. His shirt was on inside out. Tim inhaled sharply. Fuck. Tim had been there. He’d done that. Denied reality. Gone on a wild fairy tale goose chase. Chased insane dreams. Sure, it had worked. But this was different. They had a body. We had a body then, his mind helpfully supplied. There was no real evidence. It had worked hadn’t it? Denying Bruce’s death out of reality? But Dick couldn’t be alive. Bruce had seen him die. Clark saw Bruce die, his brain again helpfully supplied. Tim studied Damian’s face carefully. He looked two steps away from a mental breakdown. Was that how I looked? He wasn’t exactly looking in any mirrors at the time. Dick had try to talk him back down, that was the wrong move. He’d doubled down. But Damian wasn’t him and Tim had no idea what to do. Damian stared at him, studying his face carefully. Tim could feel his palms sweating again, when had he started clenching his fists? His brain was ticking through options, tell Damian he believed him – high chance of heartbreak, low chance of kid running off and doing something stupid on his own. Try and talk him down – still some heartbreak, but can mitigate, medium to high chance of him running off. Call Alfred – should he really do that though? The kid came to him. Alfred’s busy dealing with amnesiac Bruce. Call someone else? Why did the kid come to him in the first place? Damian hated him, he wouldn’t come to him unless he was really sure, or really desperate. Does he think I can replicate what happened with Bruce? Time seemed to move like molasses. Tim swallowed. Now or never.

“I believe you.” He replied. Damian’s eyebrows furrowed, but his shoulders fell ever so slightly, and he rocked back on his heels, uncrossing his arms and leaning into a less defensive stance. Mixed results. He prayed he sounded convincing enough. If he was going this route, he had to go all the way. It didn’t matter that he’d seen the body. It didn’t matter that Bruce saw. He needed to be on Damian’s side with this one. Just like he’d needed somebody on his side back then. Even if it was a crazy side. Even if it was a leave everyone behind and run around on a whim side. Even if it doesn’t work out, at least the kid would have someone to catch him at the end. Why did it have to be the brat though?

“You do not. But you will.” Damian said solemnly, a bit of an edge to his voice. He pulled a laptop out of a bag on the floor and hopped up on the foot of Tim’s bed. Tim quietly settled next to him, careful to not touch him. He was careful. The kid didn’t appear to be looking for a fight, but you never know. Tim glanced at the laptop screen.

“DAMIAN NO WHAT THE-” He screamed. Damian nearly leapt of the bed. His face turned red.

“-tt- Grow up Drake, this is for research purposes only, that is not-” He started mumbling.

“You’re on DICK GRAYSON THIRST POST WEBSITES for RESEARCH!” Tim half screamed, attempting to lower his voice. Damian flushed harder.

“SHUT UP DRAKE!” He countered. Tim took deep breaths. Dear god, he needed to bleach his eyes after this. He did not need to know these threads existed. Fucking reddit. Humanity has gone too far. There were 20k followers. He peeked over again, the latest posts were from this morning. His mouth was dry. These people were lusting over his dead brother. It was sick, it was fucking disgusting it was-

“Wait what’s that picture?” Tim asked.

“-tt- If you would allow me to explain instead of losing your head, I can show you.” Damian grumbled. He clicked on the picture to enlarge it. “I’ve run the calculations, biometrically, the body shape is a 99.97% match.” Tim let out a low whistle. It wasn’t much to go on. You couldn’t see the figure’s face, he was turned away from the camera. Whoever took it was definitely aiming for a certain portion of the man’s body.

“Have you talked to the poster?” Tim inquired. Damian nodded.

“This subreddit is dedicated to…” Damian made a revolted looking face, “capturing casual images of Grayson in unsavory positions.” He nearly squirmed as he finished the sentence. “I was attempting to research the details of Grayson’s perceived passing and came across this website.” That was a different kind of trauma in Tim’s opinion. “The image caught my eye. He has fans in Ireland, that is where it was taken. These fans are apparently experts at picking him out.” Damian scrolled through some earlier posts to prove his point. “It is odd.” He added pointedly. Tim’s mind was racing. It was hardly evidence. It could have been anyone. But he was right. The perverts were good. They even had a few of Dick in disguise doing undercover work, none of his face of course. But Dick couldn’t be in Ireland. Tim went to the funeral. Bruce went to the funeral. Bruce saw Dick die. Bruce wouldn’t lie about something like that. He never told you about the Joker. His mind supplied. No. Bruce wouldn’t. Bruce couldn’t. He wouldn’t put them through that grief. Not after Damian. Not after all the lies. He promised he wouldn’t lie to them like that. The picture couldn’t be real. But Damian kept scrolling. There were more. In multiple countries. It couldn’t be possible. There was no way. People joked his brother’s butt was iconic but this was ridiculous.

“Drake?” Damian sounded so cautious. Tim was confused. The pictures all looked so real. So accurate. Could they be photoshopped? That could explain it.

“Did you get any of the original files?” He asked much too hastily to appear calm. A smile flicked on Damian’s face for a millisecond.

“You believe me.” Damian stated, half disbelievingly. Tim bit his lip. He didn’t want to. He couldn’t. If he did, then he didn’t believe Bruce. Damian cleared his throat. “I have already examined a few of the original photographs. Their phones were laughably easy to hack.” He looked smug for a mentally unhinged eleven-year-old. “They do not appear to be tampered with.” Tim could feel his heart thudding in his chest. Dick couldn’t be alive. It wasn’t possible. He saw the body. Bruce was in the cave for a week going over it. Not allowing anyone in. No… Fuck…

“What did you do?” He muttered under his breath. Damian looked at him inquisitively, a determination burning in his eyes. Tim hadn’t seen any of the proof himself. And he believed Bruce unquestioningly. That was the opposite of what the man had taught him. But there was still something off. He looked searchingly at Damian. “Dick wouldn’t do that to us.” He couldn’t. Dick would never do something like that. He would tell them. He wasn’t like Bruce, he was reliable. Dick didn’t keep secrets like that. He wouldn’t fake his own death and leave them to fend for themselves. Not after Damian died. After everything they’d lost, after everything he’d lost. Dick wouldn’t do that to him. Damian’s eyes flickered toward the ground, and he frowned.

“Maybe he can’t tell us.” Is all he had to offer. It seemed like a sore spot. Tim didn’t push it. It was probably driving the kid insane. Dick, galivanting across the world, not checking in, not coming back to tell them he was okay? The odds were astronomically low. Dick was a constant. He was their brother. He was a Robin. Robins don’t do that to each other. Steph did, his brain helpfully supplied. But that wasn’t Steph’s fault. Tim dug his nails into his palms. He needed to know. He needed proof. He needed to see the footage, go over the evidence. He didn’t doubt Dick, but his mind was itching. He wouldn’t be able to sleep unless he knew for sure. Hell, Damian probably couldn’t either.

“Look, here’s the plan.” Tim said, his mind racing. Damian stared at him intently. Wow the kid really was desperate if he was willing to listen to him. “I’ll tell Kon I’m taking you home, that you need some help on a case, then will slip out. Maybe, maybe someone close to the family is compromised.” He said, a bit unsure. That could explain the lie. If there was one. Please let there be one. Damian nodded, stuffing his laptop back into his backpack. Tim crossed the room and grabbed the door handle.

A barely audible “Thanks.” reached his ears as he flipped off the lights.

  Jason groaned as he checked his messages. He really didn’t want to go through the batcomputer files. It would be faster if Tim did it, plus he had a lower chance of accidentally messing something up. Not that the file system wasn’t already a disaster. Touch the wrong button and you’re locked in the cave till Alfred realizes something’s wrong.

Tim had stopped responding to his messages two days ago, and well, he couldn’t wait any longer. And so, he found himself zipping through the tunnel systems that led into the cave. It was better to avoid the manner if possible. Happy Bruce wasn’t high on the list of people he wanted to see. That dude was fucking weird. It made him feel weird. It did feel good to cross amnesia off his yearly family bingo though. Now he just needed someone to trip during an interview and he’d break Cass’s winning streak. At the rate they were checking things off, maybe he should start a second batch and make it biannual. That or change the prompts. They were getting predictable.

He rolled to a stop inside the cave, and nearly rolled his eyes seeing the mess of skid marks on the floor. Seriously, tires are expensive, why his siblings couldn’t park like normal human beings was beyond him.

Someone was clacking away on the upper platform. Oh, thank God Tim was probably here, figuring it out before he could mess everything up. Cass poked her head over the railing, Jason cocked an eyebrow at her as he removed his helmet. She grinned and jumped over it, catching the fireman’s pole and sliding down. Someone was going to break an ankle doing that, could he add that to the bingo cards? Stupid non-work related injury was already on there, maybe upgrading it to stupid broken bone would suffice. Dick broke his nose outside Denny’s at 3am last year during a post mission party. Hands down one of the best nights of Jason’s life. Too bad his family members decided to die at least once a year.

“I’m about to win bingo.” Cass whispered as she brushed past his shoulder. That jolted Jason out of his bittersweet thoughts.

“Bullshit.” He growled back, bingo was his this year. She smugly wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

“Sorry brother.” She said sweetly, leaning her head into his shoulder. She let out a long sigh. And then Jason finally remembered that it most the squares weren’t exactly fun.

“Wait, the fuck’s going on?” Fuck, he really didn’t want to deal with this right now. Nobody could have died Dick checked that off, amnesia was gone, Gotham destroyed was gone, natural disaster was checked, Joker breaks out and does dramatic shit was gone too. But that wasn’t a good sigh, that was a ‘I’m so tired of this family sigh’, which could narrow it down a bit. Cass squeezed his shoulder.

“Family secrets.” She admitted, giving him a melancholy look. Jason groaned. This family was the fucking worst. Bruce wasn’t even really part of it right now, who the hell was keeping secrets? Damian. Had to be Damian. Little monster was just like his dad. Fuck. Dick taught the kid better than that. What kind of mess was he in?

Cass took him by the wrist and started dragging him towards the stairs. He resisted briefly as they got to the base. He needed to know. “Who’s is it?” He asked, planting his feet on the ground.

Cass bit her lip, looking extremely uncomfortable. Jason pulled back his arms and crossed them, keeping his expression as neutral as he could, but she could probably read his mood anyways.

“HA. HAHAHA HA. FUCK YOU BRUCE! TAKE THAT SHIT-COMPUTER!”

Jason nearly jumped out of his skin at Tim’s screeching from upstairs, Cass was running up the stairs, not waiting to see if he was coming. Jason sighed. It was going to be on of those days. He took a deep breath and headed up behind her.

Tim was doing a victory dance in front of the computer. Damian was crawling out from under the computer, a shit eating grin on his face. They both looked (and smelled) a mess. Definitely neither had showered in a few days, probably hadn’t slept either.

“Todd, you are just in time to witness our victory over father.” Damian greeted, formal as ever. The brat didn’t even through an insult in there. Must be in a good mood. Well that at least explained who was keeping secrets. Stupid Bruce, keeping secrets even while an amnesiac. Screw him.

“Shall we?” Tim asked, offering a hand to Damian, which shockingly the kid took. The fuck did he miss?!?

“Uh, what the fuck?” He managed to get out. There was cowl footage pulled up on the screen. Cass was pulling chairs over from the table. He tiredly took the seat she offered him.

“Waaaaiiiiiit I have popcorn!” Steph called, pounding down the stairs.

“Steph no!” Tim moaned. “This isn’t a joke!”

“What’s family drama without popcorn?” Steph sung back. Damian huffed. Cass snickered. Jason had to smirk to himself. Dark humor was the best coping mechanism in this family. “Besides you haven’t told us what this is!” She accused. Well at least Jason wasn’t the only one who didn’t know. Tim shifted guilty at the computer, his eyes darting from Damian and then back to the group. Damian responded by huffing and crossing his arms.

“Drake did not ‘want to get your hopes up’.” He began, mimicking Tim’s voice perfectly, “-tt-His concern is unfounded, my research has been impeccable, Gr-” Tim shoved a hand over Damian’s mouth. Damian looked downright murderous.

“Look we want to watch the footage beforehand it might be-” Tim squawked as Cass lunged off the table, hopped over his shoulders and hit play on the batcomputer. “Cass wait!” He got out as the video began to play. Steph grabbed Tim from behind and dragged him into a seat.

The screen showed footage from a first-person perspective, they were walking through a doorway into a large room.

“I’m tired of secrets.” Muttered Cass as she slipped in a chair next to Steph. Damian staid standing, glaring intensely at the screen, looking strangely anguished.

“Hey, kid you can…” The invitation died in his throat. The camera moved forward into the room, revealing a beaten Dick Grayson in the center, hooked to countless machines, suspended in a metal cocoon, only his face and chest peeking out.

“Oh my God.” Came a familiar voice from the screen. A growl reverberated in the cave.

“Well Batman…” Luthor materialized on the right, “…You’ve found Nightwing.” He said, stalking forward.

Something clattered on the floor. The camera was rushing forward. Voices from the cave mixed with voices on the screen.

“Why would you want to watch this!?” shrieked Steph.

“Dick? Everything’s going to be all right. I’m here.” Bruce’s gruff voice sounded oddly strained.

“Shut up Brown!” Came Damian in a high-pitched voice.

“He never showed us the evidence.” Tim’s voice squeaked. “We have to watch till the end?”

“I’m sorry I shut you out. All of you. I didn’t want you getting hurt…I’m going to get you out of this.” Came Bruce’s shaking voice. Jason could feel a lump growing in his throat. He didn’t want to see this.

“Fast-forward?” Cass suggested, her voice equally shaken. Jason could barely see the others in the cave, his eyes were glued to the screen.

“No…You need to…leave.” Came Dick’s horse whisper of a voice. “You need to go…”

Damian made an inhuman noise, which allowed Jason to tear his eyes off the screen.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Muttered Tim. “We can’t fast-forward we need to know what happened.” He forced a sense of determination into his voice. “This is why I didn’t-”

THOOM. The sound rumbled through the cave. Jason jumped out of his seat. The camera whipped around revealing the exit sealed off, with Luthor, Selina, and Bizzarro trapped inside.

“-you guys can still leave.” Tim said shakily.

BA-DEEP. Blared through the speakers. BA-DEEP.

“What is that?” Came Selina’s voice, her usual smooth and silky persona dropped. BA-DEEP.

“It’s a countdown. This isn’t just a fancy pair of handcuffs, Catwoman. It’s a bomb.” Came Lex’s gruff voice. The camera turned again showing a timer counting down from 5 minutes. Jason’s stomach painfully twisted at the reminder of another countdown in another sealed building.

“We’re staying.” He managed to get out. He might have heard noises of affirmation.

WHAM. “The door. The walls. Why can’t we break through them?” Came Luthor’s voice.

“This cell was designed to hold Doomsday, Luthor.” Came Bruce’s voice again. The camera showed him messing with the panel. BA-DEEP.

“Is the countdown monitoring his heart?” Selina asked from seemingly far away.

“Yes.” Boomed Bruce’s voice. BA-DEEP.

“Why?” Replied Selina.

“The detonator is hooked into it.” Bruce responded. Jason’s heart sunk. “He died in a death trap. There was no way out.” Bruce had told him before the funeral. BA-DEEP.

“Batman…The bomb…” Dick whispered. BA-DEEP. Jason spared another glance at Damian. There were tears beginning to form in his eyes, but he stared, glued to the screen all the same. “…It only disams…If my heart stops.” Jason could feel his chest tightening painfully. “I die…or we all die.” BA-DEEP.

“Maybe Bruce had a reason for not showing this to us.” Steph said shakily. Jason glanced over. She looked green. Her sleave and eyes were both wet. The sounds of the heart monitor echoed in the cave.

BA-DEEP. “Please…Listen to me…” Dick’s horse voice started again. Tim was muttering frantically to himself. “You still have time to get yourself out of here.” The camera was so close. Jason could see every cut on his brother’s face, could see the sweat on his brow, the blood trickling down from his nose.

BA-DEEP. “I am not leaving you, Dick. I am not abandoning you.” Bruce sounded much more confident that Jason felt. Too bad Bruce didn’t sound confident.

“You aren’t Bruce. And you never have.” Dick replied. Jason’s vision was blurring. All he wanted was some stupid computer files. He didn’t come to the cave to watch this.

BA-DEEP. “The only way we’re getting out of here is together…No…The wires…” Jason dug his fingernails into his palms. “…Every time I disconnect a relay, it fixes itself.” Jason bit his lip.

BA-DEEP. At some point those in the caves had gone silent. “Then there’s only one way to disarm this bomb, Batman.” Came Luthor’s voice. The video jolted violently and Bruce’s cry reverberated through the cave. Chaos erupted on the screen. A cacophony associated with their customary brand of violence echoed through the speakers, obscuring some of the voices.

BA-DEEP. “I’m saving our lives.” Jason made out. The screen was black. Jason glanced around the room. Everyone was tense. Damian was crying. Tim looked horrified. Cass was perfectly still, her expression blank. Steph looked one step away from throwing up in the empty popcorn bowl that lie on the ground at her feet.

BA-DEEP. The camera was moving again. “LUTHOR.” Boomed Bruce’s voice again. Jason caught a glimpse of the man pressing a hand over Dick’s face. “LUTHOR, YOU HURT HIM AND I WILL KILL YOU.” Cass let out the faintest gasp. Bruce wasn’t lying. How the hell was Luthor still alive? The heart monitor was stuttering. BA-DEEEEEP

“Nonononononononononono.” Came Tim’s voice. “It wasn’t supposed to-”

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

“DICK.” Screamed Bruce. The camera rushed forward.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

“NO!” Yelled Bruce and Tim at the same time. Damian had sunk to the floor.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

A fist kept pounding Luthor in the face relentlessly. “Batman, wait-” Luthor pleaded. This was not how Jason had wanted Bruce to break his code.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

“YOU MURDERER!” Screeched Bruce, righteous fury echoing in his voice. The heart monitor cut off. A hand reached down to cut off Luthor’s windpipe.

“I have this…” Came Luthor’s strangled voice. He looked terrified. “Under control…Grayson…” The hand squeezed harder. “-kk-!” The man chocked. Bruce lessened up slightly. “It’s not too late, you idiot.” Spat Luthor. Bruce was apparently passed the point of listening.

“YOU MURDERED NIGHTWING.” He growled, tightening his grip once more. Luthor was going bug eyed. The man was going to actually die if Bruce pushed it much harded.

“Batman-” Came Selina’s voice.

“Luthor killed Dick, Selina.” Bruce said, his voice strangled.

“You said this lightning rod was from the future! Maybe we can use it to save him or something? I don’t know-!” She cried desperately.

A flash of light and crackle of electricity resounded through the cave. The screen went black for a moment.

Jason could hear metal clinking on the floor.

“Why are we still watching this?” Jason asked hoarsely. Tim looked at him palely.

“I need to know what happened next.” He whispered.

“If I hadn’t stopped Grayson’s heart, this ‘Murder Machine’ would have detonated and we all would have died. I had to make a choice, Batman. I made him flatline…after I forced him to swallow a cardioplegia pill.” The camera slowly tilted back up to focus on Luthor.

“A what?” Asked Steph and Selina at the same time.

“A drug that paralyzes the cardiac muscles surrounding the heart.” Replied Tim and Bruce in sync.

“Then…” Trailed off Damian. The boy looked up hopefully at the screen.

“And if this boy’s heart doesn’t get a shot of adrenaline right this very second he’s going to stay dead.” Luthor finished.

*kaff*

That small cough was the best sound Jason had heard in his entire life.

“YES!” Shouted Tim.

Damian swallowed. “As I expected.” He said shakily. No one called him out on it.

“Dick?” Came Bruce’s voice from the screen.

“Batman?” Dick’s wobbly voice whispered.

Cass tackled Steph into a bear hug, and Steph laughed widely as they clattered to the floor. Jason just sighed deeply and let his head drop into his hands in relief.

“Drake-” gasped Damian, “-get off.”

“You were right! Damian was right! Dick’s alive. HAHA Dick’s ALIVE!” Jason glanced up to see Tim squeezing the crap out of Damian who was going slightly blue in the face. There were words coming from the speakers still but they fell to the wayside in the celebration. Jason walked over and turned the volume down.

“I’m going to kill them.” Jason muttered under his breath. But he’d save that for later, for now, he just paced back to his chair and sunk into it. The cave was quiet for a few minutes, Dick and Bruce continued on whatever the fuck adventure they were on was. The rest of the video was a blur. By the end, Jason’s racing heart had settled, and the kids had stopped clinging to each other.

“But wait.” Said Steph as the video ended. “If Dick’s alive, where is he? How did you even know to look?”

Jason turned to see Tim babbling. “Well I have a few theories, we recovered more footage as well, you know? Like Damian found pictures of him all across the world so like, we don’t know for certain where he is, but like I don’t know for sure what happened, but maybe someone was compromised so like, he had to stay hidden or like…” Tim continued babbling as the next video began to play. It was once again footage from the cowl. “Bruce shut off all the camera’s in the cave for the next week, I thought he was sulking but like we were able to find some cowl footage that he deleted, and like hopefully from that we can figure out what happened and how to track him down-”

“Turn up the volume.” Demanded Cass from her seat. She was looking at the screen with an odd expression. Damian moved without hesitation. Jason’s eyes followed up to the screen. Dick was glaring into the camera his fists raised and wrapped.

“So, one more time Dick. But now there’s only one rule…You have to win.” Came Bruce’s gruff voice. The pair was in the cave. Dick lunged towards the camera. “You let the crime syndicate capture you. Let them torture you. You let them give your secrets to the world.” Bruce accused.

“Bruce man, what the fuck!” Steph yelled, masking Dick’s response.

Bruce continued “You let them turn you into a bomb. You let them kill you. Before Luthor rescued you, you let everyone WATCH YOU DIE.” He boomed.

“YOU GOTTA BE FUCKING KIDDING ME!” Jason bellowed, knocking over his chair as he stood. He walked away from the screen. Only fucking Bruce. Only fucking Bruce would blame someone for their death. Jason knew that all too well. He walked away from the screen, giving himself distance to clear his head.”

“I trained you to LIVE, and I watched you DIE!” CRACK. Jason flipped around to see Bruce elbow Dick in the face, drawing blood. Bruce’s words cut like a knife. It wasn’t Jason’s fault he died. It wasn’t Dick’s fault either. Neither Steph’s or Damian’s. Damian had unconsciously taken cover behind Tim, who was standing between Damian and the screen with an arm hovering over the kid’s shoulder.

“WHAT THE FUCK BRUCE!” Screamed Steph at the screen, she was also on her feet at this point. Only Cass’s hand prevented her from trying to fight the digital apparition. “WE DON’T JUST GO AROUND DYING WILLY NILLY, IT’S NOT MY-, IT’S NOT HIS FAULT!” Her voice shrilly echoed around the cave, drowning out the audio temporarily.

Dick was on his knees, wiping his bloody nose, looking up confused. WHACK. A powerful kick sent him flying off the platform, crashing into a costume display case. “I have a mission for you, Dick. I need you to do something that will hurt your friends. Your family.” Bruce commanded. He could hear Damian inhale sharply. Tim stopped hovering and pulled Damian tightly into his chest, rushing forward to pause the video, with the boy in tow. His hand was over the button before Cass sprung forward and grabbed his wrist. Jason had never seen Cass look this angry without the mask.

“I deserve to know.” She said with conviction, anger deep in her voice. “I deserve to know what kind of father he is.” She spat. Jason wasn’t going to touch that with a ten foot pole.

“But he shouldn’t, I mean I don’t know if, I mean I don’t know what, I mean-” Tim sputtered glancing from the screen to Damian and back again.

“I want to know the truth.” Came Damian’s tiny reply. He looked so young, he pushed away from Tim’s chest, but leaned into his side.

Cass pulled Tim’s hand back. “I fought him once.” She admitted. “I need to know.” She repeated.

Tim looked at her pleadingly. Bruce and Dick raged at each other on screen. Blood flowed from the cuts on Dick’s back. “I…I…” Tim stammered.

“We all deserve to know.” Steph piped up, leaning against the side of the computer.

“Fight like you’re alive!” Bruce yelled on the screen. CRACK. An oversized die broke on impact with the back of Dick’s head. Dick retaliated, throwing a question mark back.

The words were blurring in Jason’s head, his rage clouding his thoughts, and overtaking his senses. The rest of the world was disappearing, leaving only the screen behind. His vision tunneled. He crossed his arms as tightly as he could, willing himself to stay in place. Stay calm. His hearing cut out. But he could still read his name on his brother’s lips just before Bruce delivered an uppercut powerful enough to knock Dick off the dinosaur.

The next thing Jason knew Cass was sitting on him. People were yelling at him.

“-on’t break the screen-”

“-up I need to see-”

“-op fighting-”

Cass smiled apologetically before tapping a pressure point. Jason allowed himself to fade into the darkness.

 He came to in a medical bay of the cave, with an intense desire to get out. This place was cursed. He needed out, he needed to think, he needed to process, but he needed to get out. He pushed himself up and swung his legs off the bed.

“Wait.” Came a voice from behind him. He spun off the bed to see Tim, awkwardly standing on the other side of the cot. Jason edged towards the door. “We know where he is.” Tim offered. Jason glanced at Tim, and back to the door.

“Can we talk somewhere else?” He asked quietly. He didn’t want to be in the cave for this. Tim awkwardly bobbed side to side.

“Uh about that. We’re moving out.” He said quickly. Jason opened the door.

“OMGIT’SREDHOODHIMR.REDHOODSIRPLEASEDON’TKILLTIM-”

Jason slammed the door in the kid’s face. He stared at Tim, who was banging his head into the wall with a hand covering his eyes.

“Do I even want to know?” Jason asked. Tim groaned.

“I called my team to help us move out, we’re going to use the bunker for Gotham operations from now on.” Tim explained. A loud crash came from outside. The door whipped open.

“Heythegiantpennyisn’t-” The kid started. Jason growled at him. “-nevermindbyebye.” The speedster zipped away and slammed the door.

“You decided this without me?” Jason asked, raising an eyebrow at Tim. Tim looked back at him sheepishly.

“You’re already out voted. Besides you really want to stay here?” He replied evenly. Jason shrugged, that was fair. He’d already tried to leave. “I know you said you don’t want to talk here, but I don’t know when I’ll get you alone again.” Jason sighed. That’s valid, he was planning on avoiding the family for a bit. “Please don’t pull a disappearing act.” Jason looked up at him.

“Why not?” He challenged.

“We don’t need Bruce to be a family.” Tim replied. It sounded rehearsed. That was also fair. “And we need each other too. We found some communications from Dick, Bruce left him stranded when he got amnesia, he’s coming back in a few days.” Jason couldn’t look Tim in the eye anymore.

“I don’t know what to do.” He said honestly, looking at Tim’s shoes. What do you say after something like this? After watching something like that. After knowing the truth.

“Neither do we, but we’ll figure it out together.” Tim offered. He looked sad, tired, his face fell before he spoke again. “He…he misses us.” He spoke softly. “On the recordings. I, I don’t think Bruce even told him about Damian.” Jason swore softly under his breath. Bruce was one fucking piece of work.

“Is there anything else I should know?” Jason said after a moment, catching Tim’s eye once more.

Tim shook his head. “The rest of the tape was mostly the same.” He said quietly. “He won.” He added as an afterthought. Jason snorted. Tim gave a warry smile. None of them ever won. Not in the ways they wanted to. Only when the prizes were more pain, more guilt, more heartbreak.

Jason leaned back against the wall. How was this the way things ended up? Was Bruce always this cruel? The man was unrecognizable to Jason. It was inexcusable. After Willis? After Cain? After Brown? Hell, even Tim’s father was emotionally abusive before he died. Why couldn’t any of them have a normal father? A stable parental relationship. It wasn’t fair. And it hurt more because he didn’t even know where it started. Bruce had been a good father to him. Had that been a lie? He’d never looked to closely at why Dick had left home, could it be that…that…? Had Jason missed something like this? Would he ever even know what he’d missed? They didn’t have as many cameras back then.

Tim had crossed the room and put a hand on his shoulder. “He’ll be okay.” He said confidently. “As long as we have each other, we’ll all be okay.” Tim squeezed his shoulder gently before disappearing through the door into the chaos that used to be his childhood fantasy. When had it all gone so wrong, he had to ask himself. He hated that he knew the answer. His death was this fucking family’s original sin. But you know what, that wasn’t his fault. Even if it felt like it. Even if Bruce still blamed him. Dick didn’t look at him like a ghost, he didn’t look at him like a kid in over his head, like a regret, like a mistake. It was time for Bruce to grow the hell up and move on. Bad experiences don’t justify beating your kids. Maybe from here, they could move on. Maybe from here on, they could heal. Maybe they could start over. Maybe they could make their own new family. Bruce had abused them, lied to them, manipulated them enough. It was time to rise from the ashes like a phoenix and fly again. He wouldn’t know unless he tried. He didn’t have to give up on Gotham. But maybe it was time to give up on Bruce.

Jason swung open the door, descending into a future unknown, diverging from the circle of heartache and abuse. He had broken the cycle once before, on his own, with a new family made of friends, one of his choosing. And now he chose to break it once more, and this time he resolved not to leave his siblings behind.

[odos-bucket]

So to continue my thoughts on Clark and Bruce adopting Jason together (begun here)

They go back to crime alley the next day. Bruce brings a copy of The Scarlet Pimpernel for Jason, who seems vaguely surprised to see them again. He isn’t as wary as he had been when they’d met in the middle of the night, and even sits beside Clark when they get onto the bus (though both end up giving their places up to other passengers before they can reach their destination).

At this point Clark and Bruce are focused on the idea of getting Jason enrolled in school, so the intention with this get together is to familiarize him with some potential institutions. Bruce was up all the previous night researching Gotham boarding schools, and reaching out to faculty members.

Despite all the preparation, the whole thing goes terribly.

Jason seems fine on the bus, but is tense and anxious during the actual school visits. He’s engaged by the classes and lectures he sits in on, but overall feels out of place, and is distrustful of pretty much everyone he ends up interacting with. He’s feeling conflicted, because he loves school, and he knows he’ll be pissed at himself forever if he really has this opportunity and ends up letting it slip by. But on the other hand he’s justifiably paranoid about perceived kindness from strangers (and yeah maybe it’s a little easier to trust Superman than it would be just anybody, but he still doesn’t really know the guy). And even if there isn’t some hidden catch to the offer, he’s not sure he can get on board with living somewhere where there’s a curfew, where his activities would be monitored. The idea of ceding any amount of control in his life at this point makes his skin crawl. He figures he owes it to himself to at least see if this is something that could work out, but goddamn if everything about it isn’t overwhelming and kind of horrifying.

And that’s all before other people start making themselves problems. Everywhere they end up going there’s bullshit to deal with from students, teachers, and administration.

Because of course the people running facilities designed to cater to Gotham socialites don’t treat Jason right. Even with freakin’ Batman and Superman with him he gets suspicious glares and withering looks.

None of that is any less than he expected. What really gets Jason is how put off everyone seems to be by his questions. He comes into every office with a list of things he’s curious about (Batman isn’t the only one who stayed up the previous night to prepare). He wants to know what percentage of the student bodies are there on scholarship, how the meal plans work, what the curfews are, how tightly regulated students’ time is outside of classes, what his life would be like if he put it into their hands.

The administrators don’t like the ‘interrogation’. Which is absolutely insane, because really they should expect any prospective student to have questions. And they should be prepared to answer them. That should be a part of their job, right??

But there’s this attitude of, “We don’t need to explain ourselves to the likes of you,” of, “Just be grateful you have a place here at all.” And that’s what puts Jason over the edge, has him realizing that this isn’t something he’s going to be able to deal with.

It’s after he gets more or less the same reception at the third place they’ve visited, that he finally just has to leave. He can’t take it, he can’t stand it, he has to get out of the office before he bites somebody’s head off.

He gets outside as quickly as he can, and feels some relief breathing in the fresh air (fresh by Gotham standards at least). He feels so stupid for believing he could have this. Really he should have known better. And he hates feeling stupid more than anything.

Superman trails out after him. And Jason can’t figure out what he’s still doing here. And he’s embarrassed to be upset in front of him. And he’s angry that he feels embarrassed when he doesn’t have any good reason to be. And-

“Jason.”

His name ends up cutting through the disorientation he hadn’t quite realized he was experiencing.

Superman is in front of him, just far enough away that he can’t reach out and touch him. Jason stares at him.

“This is shit,” he says, trying to keep his voice casual.

“What happened?”

They had offered to go in with him to meet the dean of the first school. Jason had turned them down, and they hadn’t offered any of the subsequent times. He hadn’t exactly been keeping them apprized of what was going on either, even though questioning him wasn’t something they had given up on after it had failed to yield anything the first time.

“The same thing that always happens,” Jason says. “No one really want someone like me at their fancy school.”

Superman’s eyes narrow.

“What happened?” He asks again. “What did he say?”

“Doesn’t matter… Look, this has been fun and all, but I kinda just want to go home. So if you don’t mind-“

Batman appears with them as quickly as he’s able to disappear. Neither see where he comes from. He’s just suddenly walking toward them, meeting them, and continuing on without slowing down.

“We’re leaving,” he grunts.

Jason hesitates briefly, confused. But then his thoughts catch up to him enough to realize that leaving is exactly what he wants to be doing, and he hurries after Batman.

The heroes are deeply engrossed in their own conversation as they make their way off the grounds. It’s soft, and urgent, and Jason assumes it has something to do with the fate of the world, which he’s vaguely interested in. But he doesn’t think they’d appreciate him asking questions about things that don’t directly concern him. So he says nothing.

As they get closer to the street he realizes he’s not sure what happens next. He’s feeling tired, and frustrated, and he both really wants to be alone, and doesn’t want them to leave him. Mostly- at least so he tells himself- he wants to make sure that they don’t leave him without bus fare. He’s pretty sure they’ll give it to him if he asks, but he’s also hoping that he doesn’t need to ask.

Once they’re off the property, Batman turns around to face him.

“Jason, I’m so sorry. I don’t know exactly what Dean Sterlins said to you, but if it was anything like what he was saying while I was in there, it was way way out of line.” He starts off sounding tired, and ends up sounding angry.

Angry grownups are something that Jason generally tries to avoid, but Batman’s anger doesn’t feel particularly dangerous, and as he goes on it shifts into something more like urgency.

“Please believe, we never would have knowingly put you in that situation. I- Were the others the same?” There’s a hint of resignation in his tone that suggests he already knows the answer to that, so Jason doesn’t feel the need to do more than shrug.

Batman sighs, and it comes out as such an unexpectedly sad sound that he almost snorts out a laugh.

“Why didn’t you say something before?” Superman asks gently.

Because he had been holding out a stupid hope that if he stuck with this long enough he might find something worthwhile. Because he didn’t want to give them a reason to believe he’s more trouble than he’s worth. Because it didn’t occur to him that they might genuinely want to know until literally just now.

He shrugs. The heroes exchange a look.

Jason’s grip on the book Batman gave him tightens slightly, and he clears his throat.

“Look, uh, I’m sure there’s somewhere else you guys need to be. I appreciate you taking the time to…” He gestures around. “You know.”

“There’s no where else we need to be today,” Superman says.

“Oh… Okay?”

“There’s one more place we’d like to take you,” he continues. “If it’s all right with you. It’ll be the last one.”

Jason wrinkles his nose. He kind of just wants to go home at this point. The optimistic ‘maybe the next place will be different’ feeling he’d had at the beginning of the day has long since shriveled. And curling up with his new book sounds pretty nice right now.

But at the same time, the last three visits have all included opportunities for free food. It stands to reason that this next one will as well. That should make it worth it even if he already knows with near certainty that they can’t be heading somewhere where he might actually have a future. Plus, Superman has this dumb, hopeful look on his face that it’s hard to say no to.

So he takes the bus with them to a fourth location. The ride’s a little less than half an hour long, and the building they arrive at looks different from the campuses they’d been to earlier. It’s not huge. The architecture is pretty simple by Gotham standards. It’s more immediately recognizable as a school.

They go inside, and Batman stops to exchange a few brief words with a woman in the front office.

“There’s a seventh grade English class starting in about ten minutes,” he informs Jason afterwards. “Would you like to sit in on it? We can meet back here afterwards.”

Jason agrees eagerly. This was the part of the last three trips that he’d actually liked. Maybe he can get in and out without needing to sit down with any deans or headmasters.

He attends a class where the students aren’t wearing uniforms, where he gets a few curious glances, but no lingering glares. He gives a note from the woman at the front desk to the teacher, and a few kids offer him greeting nods or smiles before the lecture begins.

The class is more than halfway done, and he’s been deeply engrossed in a discussion about The Giver- which he has never read, but now fully intends to- when all the observations he’s been making about this place click together.

The class ends, and he meets his chaperones back in the hall- where Superman is entertaining a group of ten year olds- to inform them of his realization.

“This isn’t a boarding school,” he says, once the rest of the kids have shuffled on to their next classes.

“No it is not,” Batman agrees.

Jason scowls.

“I stopped going to regular school for a reason,” he reminds them. “I can’t do this. As in literally can’t. I tried!” He’s trying not to sound upset, but it feels like they’re teasing him with this one.

“School’s a lot to manage without a stable living situation.” Batman says.

Jason huffs out a low agreement.

“So we were thinking…” He looks around, as if confirming the hall’s emptiness, before stepping into Jason’s line of sight. “We were thinking you could come and stay with us, and we could bring you to school here.”

Jason’s mind doesn’t process the offer fast enough for him to react immediately. Even once he’s sure of what he’s heard he thinks he must be misunderstanding. He looks up and at each of them try to draw clues from their expressions, their body language. It’s nearly impossible to do with Batman. Superman looks open, honest, and… hopeful. But that’s how he always looks, so does it really even mean anything?

Unable to make any useful interpretations, he asks the only question his mind has been able to form.

“What?”

“Would you like to come and live with us?” Superman says clearly.

Jason continues to stare for several seconds.

“Both of you?” He asks, because that’s interesting, and far easier to comprehend than the idea that someone might want him.

Batman clears his throat, and Superman-

-Superman blushes, which is enough to distract Jason from all the bizarre turns this day has taken.

“And, um, and our son,” he adds. “We have a son. He’s about five years older than you.”

The gears in Jason’s brain turn and click together.

“Robin,” he says quietly.

The vigilantes exchange uncertain looks, like they’ve been doing all day.

“Nightwing now,” Batman says, barely loud enough to be a whisper.

Jason just nods, because this is insane, and despite being born and raised in Gotham, he doesn’t always have a prepared response to insanity. A long moment passes, and all three of them stare at each other.

“Y- you want to foster me?” He says the words so so carefully, like he could chase the reality of them out of existence if he misspeaks, like he’s sure he hasn’t understood them properly.

“We do,” Superman says, quickly enough that the breath that had caught in Jason’s throat as soon as he’d gotten the question out can escape before it gets the chance to make him light headed. “We really do.”

Jason can’t imagine how this will work. He’s pretty sure it’s not a process that can be undergone with fake identities. Does that mean they’re willing to let him know who they are? Or maybe there’s some kind of exception for super heroes. He understands the procedure well enough to know that it’s bound to be a bureaucratic nightmare.

“Yeah,” he finds himself saying before he’s done thinking it through.

Today has been weird, and exhausting. But he likes this place. And he’s pretty sure he likes these people. And really, he would be crazy to say no, wouldn’t he.

“Let’s try it.”

[phis-corner]

demon’s daughter

I decided to re-open the taglist for this fic because I am sometimes a pushover, so now you can either ask or comment to be on the fic’s taglist or the permanent taglist! 

Additionally, I have no consistent update schedule. My first draft is written by hand- I always like to stay two chapters ahead, so I posted this chapter when I finished copying chapter 5 into a Google Doc and proofreading.

Also, fun fact: I hate chocolate. My senses just do not like it at all. I also have a very sensitive tongue and can taste the barest hint of spiciness in foods, which also means I have zero spice tolerance whatsoever. As a Chinese-American with family in Sichuan, this means I get force-fed a lot of extremely spicy foods anyway.

Masterlist Chapter 1 Chapter 2 [Chapter 3] Chapter 4

“Why are you letting them stay? He tried to kill Dick!” Timothy points at Damian, who glowers at him from across the cave as Alfred stitches Richard’s cuts.

Marinette sighs. “Akhi was not trying to murder Richard. If you paid more attention, you would notice that all of Richard’s wounds are carefully placed in non-lethal areas meant to slow him down instead of severely injuring him.”

Batman does not say a word. He hasn’t spoken since Richard called him to verify their claims.

“They were raised as assassins, Timmy. It’s normal that they’d feel threatened a lot, and act accordingly. They’re family now. Give them a chance.” Richard replies, and Marinette blinks. She did not expect to have Richard defend them so easily.

“Pardon me,” She pipes up. “But ‘they’ are currently present.”

“Right. Sorry.” Richard has the sense to look guilty. Timothy just glares.

Damian squeezes her hand three times, their signal for I would like to leave. Marinette sighs as she exits the Batcave. Being accepted into the family is… a work in progress.

.o0o.

Slade is put into Blackgate not long after with the information Ubu gave after being interrogated by the Bats. Damian and Marinette were not allowed to go. 

Too young, Richard had said. They had interpreted that as You cannot be trusted to keep him alive. He did make the right call though. Damian would have tried extremely hard had he gotten the chance.

Of course, the League did dispose of him not long after anyway, but it was the thought that counted.

Damian and Marinette spent their days in the Manor sparring, reading, or practicing their instruments. Richard, who seemed determined to bond with them, bought them both new sketchbooks, for Damian’s drawings and Marinette’s designs. She had discovered an affinity for clothing design while undercover on a mission, and had been designing ever since.

Cass (she insisted that they call her that instead of Cassandra,) was always happy to spar when asked, and although nobody ever defeated her, it was a welcomed challenge to fight someone who knew your every move, sometimes even before you did. Damian grudgingly admits she is a worthy sister, which makes Marinette smile and Cass beam.

Jason had his own home and only visited every once in a while, and Timothy was rarely seen. It didn’t help that Damian continued to make snarky comments whenever they did see him, but if Timothy was scarce, Father was practically nonexistent.

Since they came to the Manor, their father has said a total of two words to the both of them, and that was just their names when he exited his study as they passed by.

Marinette is determined to make her new family work, and so when she finds Timothy completely by accident, typing away on a laptop in one of the less-used rooms in the Manor, she takes a chance.

“You do know we are not trying to replace you, right?” She asks softly, sitting down in an armchair and deliberately not making eye contact with him. 

Timothy snorts. “But is that not what you’re doing? Bruce chose to take in everyone else. I had to blackmail him into letting me be Robin. And then the biological kids show up, born and raised like fucking royalty, so who would care about Tim Drake? The little kid whose parents didn’t even want him and his neighbor only adopted him because he knew his most well-kept secret.”

“We have more in common than you think.” Marinette says quietly.

“Yeah, right.” Timothy laughs bitterly. “The Princess of the League-”

“I wasn’t.” Marinette interrupts.

“Huh? But-”

“I wasn’t the Princess.” Marinette keeps her voice calm with considerable effort. “As soon as I was born, Ra’s gave me over to Lady Shiva. He declared me unworthy because I was a girl, and I was raised as the lowest-ranked assassin. I may have been Shiva’s protege, but that just meant she went even harder on me. I did not know even my last name until after my first death when I was five. I did not properly meet my brother until last year. Ra’s decided that I could be acknowledged, but maintained his stance on feminine inferiority.”

She chuckles hollowly. “You fear being replaced by your father figure’s biological children, Timothy. But your fear is unwarranted. Bruce Wayne chose to adopt you, because he is a good man with copious amounts of generosity. However, it evidently does not extend to his biological children. Talia dumped us at Batman’s feet and left without another word, without looking back. And Father? We may have been a complete surprise, but he has said two words in total to us since that first night- our names. You need not worry, Timothy. You shall not be replaced.”

Marinette stands, her message conveyed, and pauses in the doorway of the room. 

“Have a good afternoon, Timothy.”

The next day, Marinette and Damian watch on live television as their father is killed by Darkseid.

.o0o.

The funeral for Batman is somber. Everyone cries except for Marinette and Damian.

She thinks they should be crying, but Marinette simply didn’t know her father well enough to really mourn him. Damian squeezes her hand, and she squeezes back. The twins stand, faces carefully blank, shoulders straight and unmoving, like rocks in an ocean of tears.

Crime in Gotham runs rampant when they think Batman is gone, and so Richard becomes Batman out of necessity- and chooses her twin brother as his Robin.

Nobody else sees how it crushes Timothy, because Cass has left for Hong Kong, abandoning Batgirl and making her own identity as Black Bat. Jason is holed up in a safehouse somewhere, Richard and Damian are in their own little world as they prepare for their first patrol together, and Alfred needs time to mourn too.

So she finds herself knocking on the door to Timothy’s room, one hand holding a plate of sandwiches and a freshly brewed coffee because he hasn’t left his room since the funeral. Marinette quietly enters upon his muffled “Come in” and sets the plate down next to Timothy, whose eyes are red-rimmed and have even larger bags than normal, and yet he continues to work.

“I… noticed you have not come out to eat, so I brought some food and fresh coffee. Black.” She adds, after a moment of hesitation.

“Thanks.” Timothy mumbles, immediately going for the coffee. “Why are you doing this?”

Marinette shrugs. “Everyone else was caught up in their own situation and had issues to work through too. I am relatively unaffected by the circumstances and therefore my observation skills have not declined.” She says simply. “You should also eat. I will not stop you from drinking the coffee, but you cannot work on an empty stomach, either.”

He begrudgingly eats a sandwich, still typing away at his laptop all the while. Marinette notes the tension in his frame.

“Would you like to talk about it? I have read that venting is significantly better for one’s mental health than keeping it bottled up.” She offers.

Timothy suddenly slams the laptop shut, hard, but Marinette doesn’t flinch. The reaction was trained out of her a long time ago. 

“It’s not- it’s- my entire life, I’ve been trying to prove myself. Robin was- Robin was special. I wasn’t the first Robin, but it was a reminder that I was worth something to someone, that I could do good and be useful. And then Bruce dies, Dick becomes Batman, and he just names Damian as his Robin like my opinion on the matter meant nothing, booting me out of the position, without any semblance of an explanation and-” He breaks off into sobs.

The sight of somebody crying makes Marinette more than a little awkward, because what is she doing? She doesn’t know how to comfort a crying person, but she does know that Timothy was touch-starved as a child. However, she isn’t the most touchy-feely person on the planet either, so she just settles for rubbing his back as he lets it all out.

Once he’s run out of tears, she silently hands him the tissue box she plucked from his desk. 

“Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne, you are not worthless.” Marinette says sternly. “Nobody is worthless, and you are far from being anywhere near so. You are the cleverest and most intelligent of us all, a capable, quick-thinking strategist, and you have detective skills that rivaled Father’s. I believe Richard chose Damian as Robin because Robin is always supposed to be Batman’s sidekick. He is always taken under Batman’s wing because there are things he hasn’t learned, that Batman can teach him. Richard sees you as an equal, and therefore cannot keep you as his Robin because you have graduated the mantle. It is time you created a new identity and moved on. Do you have anything in mind?”

Timothy sniffs once. “Thank you. I really needed that. And as for the ideas,” He reaches over and pulls out a sketchbook, a smile spreading across his face. “I’ve got a few.”

.o0o.

They brainstorm ideas for almost three hours before Timothy falls asleep. Marinette easily carries his light frame to his bed and drapes a blanket over his shoulders before quietly exiting his room.

Thankfully, she managed to convince Timothy that the cowl was a terrible idea. Marinette returns to her own room for her sketchbook. Batman and Robin will have each other’s backs. But Red Hood works alone, leaving Red Robin with nobody to watch his back.

Timothy is Marinette’s brother too, and everyone else is headed into the field anyway. She, like Damian, also had the phrase ‘justice, not vengeance’ drilled into her head, and Richard had made sure to remind them daily to aim for non-lethal spots. Not that she planned on taking a life ever again anyway.

Marinette flips open her sketchbook to a bookmarked page and smiles. It seems that Starling would be making an appearance very soon.

.o0o.

It is almost time for Richard and Damian’s first patrol as Batman and Robin. Marinette heads downstairs to wish them well, but freezes at the sight of her twin in Timothy’s old suit.

“This is unacceptable!” She screeches, hurrying forward and looking pleadingly at Richard. “You cannot let akhi out into Gotham looking like a traffic light!”

Richard frowns, as does Damian. “But you never had a problem with Tim wearing it.”

“Tt. Timothy had little to no prior experience in combat before being trained as Robin. Damian has been trained to utilize the shadows in combat since birth. Wearing those bright colors will make him stand out and put him at a disadvantage.” Marinette tuts, already scribbling out a new design in her sketchbook.

“Then what do you suggest, ukhti?” Damian asks.

“I have a design in mind. The colors will stay, but the yellow and green will have to be significantly darker, and the red should be dulled as well. Sadly, you will have to wear that monstrosity tonight, but I can have the suit finished in time for patrol tomorrow, as will mine and Timothy’s new suits.” She replies, not glancing up from her book.

“What do you mean, Marinette?” Richard questions, and Marinette feels a tiny twinge of annoyance at how he handled telling Timothy about Robin.

“I mean that Timothy and I have crafted new identities as well. You did not expect him to just stop fighting crime, or for me to just sit at home while everyone else carried out Father’s mission, did you?”

Damian nods, a small smile pulling at his lips. “It will be nice to see you in the field too, ukhti.”

“What will your names be?” Richard prods curiously.

“I will not tell you just yet.” Marinette smirks. She shows her twin the finished design. “Does this look alright, akhi?”

“It looks wonderful, ukhti.” Damian replies. “Thank you.”

She sniffs. “Well, somebody had to fix the lack of fashion sense in this household eventually.”

.o0o.

Everyone else in the family may use capes, but Marinette decided that Richard’s Nightwing suit was by far the best because of its lack of one. Capes were long, heavy, a waste of fabric, and overall useless.

The Starling suit was primarily black, with a dark emerald mask covering the lower half of her face (because why carry a gas mask and rebreather when it can be built in?) with gloves and boots in the same color. A single silver star with curved sides was splayed on her chest, and a dark green utility belt rested on her waist. Her steel war fans had holsters strapped to her thighs.

All in all, the suit was built for the shadows. Marinette had learned to master slipping through the dark, unseen, and Gotham was the perfect place to utilize that. Starling would be nothing more than a ghost, a legend, if she had her way. After all, the less citizens knew, the less likely the information would hit the underworld, and that way, the vigilantes wouldn’t have all their cards out in the open.

Damian looks much better in his new suit as well, and Timothy is also grinning when he steps out of the male’s changing room. (A/N: the new 52 suit. I’m not letting him out of the Cave with that ugly cowl, or the traffic light costume with an extra R. Don’t even get me started on the Drake one.)

Richard, cowl still down, smiles as bright as the sun itself. “Good to see you, Robin. Tim, Marinette, can I ask your names?”

Timothy fastens his domino. “Red Robin.”

Marinette pulls her face mask up and curtsies with perfect posture. “Starling. I wish to work in the shadows, if that is alright.”

Richard puts on the cowl and becomes Batman. “You guys all look amazing.” He grins, and it is unsettling to see Batman smile. Oracle logs into the comms from the Clocktower.

“You all ready?”

They split the city in half. Red Robin and Starling take the North while Batman & Robin will cover the South. 

Starling trails Red Robin from afar, leaping from building to building and only using her grappling hook when the distance is too great to close by foot. They stop four muggings and two attempted assaults, all without Starling being spotted. The criminals think they hit their head on the alley walls or each other instead of her fist from behind.

It’s almost three in the morning when Batman calls it quits and they return to the Cave, changing out of their suits and showering. They are somehow all unharmed, so Alfred sends them up to bed.

Damian and Marinette brush their teeth before climbing into bed and flipping off the lights.

“Tonight was actually quite enjoyable.” Marinette remarks. “It is a nice feeling, to know that you are helping people.”

Damian hums sleepily. “It is good to know that we are continuing Father’s legacy.”

Marinette smiles. “Yes, I suppose so.” She burrows deeper into her blankets. “Sleep well, akhi.”

“The same goes for you, ukhti.”

For once, Marinette doesn’t have a nightmare.

Previous ◈ Next

Taglist (re-opened and will stay open): @moonlightstar64 @dast218 @our-preciousss @novicevoice @pawsitivelymiraculous @trippingovermyfeet @miyla-lokidottir @consumeconstantly @mochegato @i-wanna-be-a-ninja @azuremayscarlet @iloveitwhen @bran-thecreeper-stark @no-username2544 @susiej1118 @kking13

Permanent taglist (always open): @wannajointhecrabcult @marinettepotterandplagg 

Unspecified (you asked to be tagged and did not specify which one): @momothefemur @indecisive-mess-named-me

Note: some of them didn’t work. I am terrible with technology and have no clue how to fix this.

[bigfan-fanfic]

Who is Batdad closest to outside Wayne manor? Does he have much of a life outside of the Wayne's? Who would Batdad consider his closest friends besides his family?

Honestly, Batdad doesn’t have much of a life outside of the Waynes. He doesn’t really have anyone other than the League to talk to. Clark would probably be his closest friend outside of his family because in a lot of ways they are similar.

Okay, let me talk about this. ( I came back up and decided to answer more concisely above and put this under a read more because it’s very, very long, and I cried three times while writing it and I have never had any visceral reaction to what I write ever before... oof. Just be warned if you ever feel anxiety or pressure that basically, that’s what follows)

Batdad basically denies his own wants and dreams because he wants to help Bruce. What this means is that no matter what Batdad wanted to be before (maybe he and Bruce were dating and he confessed his desire to be a writer and Bruce allowed himself the fantasy and said they’d buy an island somewhere, and Bruce would lounge on the beach and supply Batdad in kisses while he writes the best book ever), by the time Bruce gets back to Gotham from his training, Batdad has had to become what Bruce would have been if Thomas and Martha were there. 

He’s a public figure and philanthropist, carrying the legacies of Martha and Thomas on his shoulders. He has to keep Martha’s business running - no, not just running, thriving - and deal with corrupt officials, corporate espionage, and greedy businesspeople all but threatening him to take Wayne Enterprises public so they can trade stock, all while making sure Thomas’ charities are well-funded and the money is actually going where it should (see earlier greed, corporate and personal). This is all while having to attend galas and functions and fundraisers and events or risk pissing off any one of these people who can turn his life into hell - missing one event can lead to being blacklisted and then that means nobody goes to a charity gala, which means that there’s no hospital built for those in the Narrows.

All this and also consider that everybody in high society sneers at you because the only reason you’re there is because you’re engaged to Bruce and you lived with him ever since Martha and Thomas died. You’re besieged on all sides, because the snobs hate you, the press wonders if you’re even qualified to run a business, and there’s always envy and hatred from below because why aren’t you doing MORE to help them? You haven’t been trained in this - your parents were upper-middle-class at best; you met Bruce by chance, so it’s just you and Alfred and this crushing, all-consuming PRESSURE and the fact that none of it is enough, you aren’t doing enough, it’ll never be enough.

Oh, and at this point, you’re probably only in your mid-twenties at the latest. And it only gets harder because Bruce is back and crime fighting and now you have to worry about him dying on patrol, so every night you’re there to assist him (sleep? don’t know her) and patch him up and support him every day even though he pretends a little too well to be a drunken boor and a cheating asshole (sometimes he isn’t even pretending) and help him when he gets frustrated and then you adopt a kid after your first day off in years (day off, what’s a day off, you haven’t slept enough since you were eighteen and Bruce left you and Batman came back but you haven’t said a word about it) and now there’s school and making sure Dick eats enough and is happy and doing good and doesn’t get overworked on patrol and stressing on whether or not Dick is okay whenever he leaves the Manor and again, none of it is ever enough.

You feel like you’re in your fifties by the time you hit thirty and the Justice League forms and that means SO much more work not just physically but emotionally because Bruce can’t meet anyone new without determining a thousand different ways to kill them if necessary (except for Talia, apparently. And Selina. And Silver Freaking St. Cloud. And Julie Morrison. And any number of dalliances Bruce has had because somehow they’re all smarter. or stronger, or maybe he just has a weakness for tall women who don’t take his crap. Is that what you do? Is your loyalty and consistency and unconditional love actually what lets Bruce walk away so often to a woman’s bed? Is it because he knows you will still be there? Is it because you have put so much of yourself into this life, into your children, into the Wayne Legacy of Perfection and Excellence that it would kill you to leave? Is it because you’re just another tool to him, one that will be quickly replaced when you succumb to sleep-deprivation, or that thing you’ve heard about in the news where people are dying from overwork so often the Japanese have a name for it, or the fact that you’re doing the work of ten, no, twenty people and not once have you ever complained to Bruce or begged him like any reasonable person would to stop this vigilante nonsense and actually LIVE), but now you have to coordinate meetings and a thousand different secret identities and make sure everything’s kosher and nobody’s fighting and of course Bruce has a beef with the nicest freaking guy in the League and Clark keeps coming to you to see if you can help them work it out.

Oh, and then there’s Talia, aka the thorn in your existence and her child who literally has tried to murder you for the crime of being married to Bruce years before he had even heard of Talia, and now on top of all the above, you have to balance getting to know the kid and be reminded day in and day out by him that you aren’t enough, that Talia has such a deeper connection to Bruce, that you are an obstacle to his happiness, that she’s so much smarter and stronger than you, that you are weak and everything you touch becomes weak and tainted by you. And not to mention that you still aren’t doing enough because Gotham’s underprivileged are screaming in pain from everything they deal with and at least you are fed and clothed and you have a family you can support and you are rich and you need to be doing MORE. 

And nobody else in the League can even come close to understanding you because wow, you do so much, do you ever take a break? You come this close to crying when Oliver remarks that if he had to do that much work, he’d go back to the island he was stranded on for five years because he’s joking. For anyone else your life would be a living hell and he’s joking. How do you do so much; do you ever sleep; hah, Bruce, your husband is showing you up! And this is when they even acknowledge you, and you feel like a major-league prick for even thinking these thoughts because Bruce and the League put their lives on the line every day (oh god they’re always in danger and the stress of losing your boys - which has happened to you already - and Bruce and your friends who are the only ones you can ever actually talk to without worrying that you’ll give away someone’s identity) and you’re complaining about a little bit of paperwork? You get to go to parties and meetings while your husband fights to save lives and you’re complaining? How selfish are you? All you do, everything you do, it isn’t enough, it’s never enough, there’s always MORE MORE MORE and it never ever stops.

Jason is dead, Jason comes back, Dick is beaten within an inch of his life, the Joker kidnaps Tim and you are hanging by a thread because the last time the Joker took one of your kids and you couldn’t find them meant that there was an empty bed and too many memories but no time to grieve because Bruce threw himself into work without a care and you needed to do even MORE because you can’t lose him too. And even the League was supposed to help with this but it doesn’t because you can’t bear to lose anyone, because they’re family and not only that, the world has gotten careless because the supers will save them and crime is actually going UP somehow and if even one of the League dies, a city could be overrun by now because the police and government are all but useless and the skies are filled with supervillains and the only thing stopping the world from falling into utter disrepair is the League, and thus you. And through all of this you have to be doing better, have to be doing MORE because every new thing means all the rest of your work becomes that much harder and you haven’t slept properly in a decade now and you feel ancient but still, you can’t complain, you haven’t earned the right to complain because you are never hungry and you never go without and there are so many people who need your help and charities that depend on you to function and kids that need fatherly advice and affection and a League that needs managing and you don’t have time for a breakdown because if you’re gone for too long everything collapses and everyone you love suffers and forget about therapy because who the FUCK could you ever talk to about any of this without either revealing a hundred secret identities and putting everything at risk or sound like a whiny crybaby?

Selina and Talia are back and hovering around your husband again and they flirt with him like you don’t exist and it’s not his fault and you love him but you see Talia every day in Damian’s voice and manner and don’t even think about talking to Bruce about his infidelity because he has so many more important things to worry about and he’s already apologized profusely and anything else makes you feel selfish and you HAVEN’T SLEPT in what feels like all your life and every moment not filled with work is filled with stress about work and worry because every time you don’t see your boys is a moment they can be dead and you don’t know it and every moment Bruce isn’t at the Watchtower is another moment Lex Luthor has to enact some horrifiying plan or the Joker gets ahold of a nuclear weapon or something else unforseeably terrible happens and it is TOO MUCH but you still need to be doing MORE because it isn’t enough and you aren’t enough and nothing is ever enough.

Is there even a you anymore? There used to be a kid there who just wanted to help his friend when he lost his parents. A kid who got left behind to stay with that friend. A teenager with dreams and hopes and wishes and a sweet boyfriend who could maybe get past his grief and lead a good life with you. A young man with the chance to stop his lover from leaving, to stay with him and not give in. Where did he go? Is he still there, underneath the years? Or is he gone, and this being made of stress and fear and feelings of inadequacy and stifled complaints and sadness gone unsaid and trauma left to fester all that you are? That kid you once were gets further and further away with everything you do to help, every time you keep silent  because what good would it do to scream the way you want to, the way you’ve needed to for so many years but never let yourself?

And yes, your boys and your husband make it better, make it worthwhile, but it remains that you feel old, you’ve been tired since you were still 19. Your days are consumed with stress and your nights are filled with fear. And you can never say this now because it has been years, and you’ve lost that chance. The guilt would throw Bruce off his game and if he’s off his game, he could die and all of this would be for nothing. Quite against your will, you’ve been trapped in a no-win situation, and even death is no escape because you know that without you, it all comes crashing down and game over. You are Atlas, holding up the world and knowing that you have just enough strength to hold it up for eternity. And no one will release you from your prison.

But you have to endure it, and smile while you do so because if Bruce ever knew (or if he even cared to look), it’d all go falling down. You are the support, and the support’s support, but no one ever thinks that you might need assistance. What do you have going on? Being a dad? Working? Attending parties? It isn’t enough and you know it isn’t enough and everybody knows that it isn’t enough and they always, always need MORE.

I wonder now how Batdad does it. How he doesn’t break down crying. And part of that is because he is fictional, and I never thought about what it would be like to go through that level of pressure every day of your life. I hope someday Bruce comes to his senses. That even if he doesn’t let go of his grief, maybe he stops being Batman. And stops training Robins. Because yes, he gave them a home, but he manipulated them into being what he is. Who knows what good Dick could have done if he had just been Bruce’s adopted son. Maybe a philanthropist. Maybe he just would’ve had a happy life instead of one where he could die every day. Where he constantly has to reopen the wound of his parents’ deaths to convince him to keep at it. I want them to realize that they don’t have to, anymore.

But they won’t. Because they aren’t real. And they exist for our entertainment. And because we’ll keep reading the comics and watching the movies and playing the games, Bruce will always be Batman and never come to terms with his parents’ deaths in a healthy way and there will always be more threats to existence and even just to him personally.

And Batdad too, is trapped.

[melancholic-pigeon]

WIP Wednesday #12

Set shortly after Percy and Jason meet in freshman year of high school (14/15 years old). Content warnings for domestic violence, child neglect and abuse, alcoholism and food insecurity.

"That's horrifying. You know that's horrifying, right? Please tell me you know that's horrifying." 

Sally hears Percy's voice before she gets to the kitchen. She's heard it like that before, and it never means anything good. 

She makes her footfalls heavier so that the boys aren't startled by her approach. She's ready to appear in the doorway and smile like she didn't hear a thing and ask them how their studying is going and if they'd like a snack— but Percy cuts her off before she can even open her mouth. 

"Can Jason borrow you for a second? I'm trying to prove a point." 

She looks at the two of them, textbooks and notepads and mechanical pencils spread out on the table. From the work on the paper, they haven't done much more than they had the last time she checked in, an hour or so ago. 

Percy's frenetic, though he's trying to hide it. She doesn't know Jason all that well yet, but he's sitting very still, and she gets the feeling he's holding something in, too.

"If he'd like to, certainly." She rinses out her mug and puts on the kettle, her back to them so that Jason has a second to think about it. "Hot cocoa or tea?" 

When she turns around, his face has changed. Not by much, but she can see a tiny shade of nervousness. 

"Cocoa, please. Thank you." 

He's almost painfully polite, much more so than a fourteen year old boy should be in such a casual setting. She keeps hearing her son in her head, and tries not to speculate on what he found horrifying. 

"It really wasn't that bad." 

"I'm gonna make the cocoa." Percy gets up from the table in an explosive movement. "Because otherwise, I'm just gonna interrupt you every two seconds to tell you that it was worse than you're making it out to be."

Jason rolls his eyes, but it makes him relax a little, too. 

"I never said the whole thing wasn't bad, just that I didn't suffer. All of the really terrible parts happened to Thalia, not me. She made sure of that." 

Percy makes an indignant noise. There's a picture starting to form in Sally's head, patchworking together from the pieces she already has, and she doesn't like it. 

"You don't have to say anything until you're ready, sweetheart." 

She doesn't even think about it. It's second nature with Percy's friends by now. Jason, she reminds herself, has only been around for four months; his eyes widen, like it's the first time anyone has ever called him that. 

Maybe it is. Maybe that's why he's so nervous. 

Percy clatters around behind them. She can hear the kettle starting to rumble and the soft exhalation from across the table. 

"It seriously wasn't," Jason repeats, like he's trying to assure himself more than Sally. 

She can remember thinking the same thing, going through the same process, telling herself that at least her first husband only used his fists. 

"Tell her what you told me," Percy insists over the clinking of the spoon as he stirs the cocoa. 

Jason meets Sally's eyes, with a vulnerability she hasn't seen him wear so plainly.

"I don't know how much Thalia's said about it. I'd assume not a whole lot. There's stuff she still won't tell me, either." 

"She's trying to protect you." Percy puts Jason's mug across from him and takes his seat again. "And she's allergic to sharing her anxieties, for a much better reason than I thought." 

"It's a habit. She was maybe nine years old, tops, when she started shoving it all down." Jason frowns, running his fingers over the handle of his mug. "I didn't have a clue how bad it actually was, because she hid it from me. All I knew was that when Mom was gone for a while, we'd play a game where we'd hunt for all of her empty bottles and cans, and Thalia would let me win and take us to the gas station and buy me a snack as a prize so I wouldn't whine at her while she was getting the rest of our groceries." 

There aren't really any good possibilities in a situation like this, but Sally's heart still plummets into her gut. 

"He thought it was fun," Percy mutters darkly. "Like a field trip where he got treats, instead of his third-grade sister stealing, skipping meals and collecting booze receptacles to exchange for coin deposits because their mom was too busy getting plastered to feed them and their dad cared more about his reputation than the welfare of his children."

There are a million things she could say, including every word that's come out of Percy's mouth so far. He's looking at her, weighed down by the same helpless rage he often carries when they talk about things like this. She feels it too, just as bitterly, though she's no longer apt to show it on her face like that.

"That's awfully young to be left on your own," she tells Jason, taking his hand. She can feel her eyes stinging as he squeezes back, hard, his jaw held tense. "And kids notice. It was hard on you, too, even if you didn't know why." 

She feels Percy grab her free hand under the table. She'd tried everything she could think of to shelter him— and all he learned from it was how to keep his own secrets from her. 

If she hadn't found his stash of concealer and powder, she'd never have known he'd somehow learned the same trick she used. If he hadn't walked in on her with the palettes in her hands and tears streaming down her face, he never would have known it wasn't just him.

They don't keep secrets anymore. It's terrifying, but it's worth it; with honesty comes trust, and now Percy doesn't try to hide when something's wrong. At least not with her. 

"Sometimes I wonder if that's why she's so tiny." Jason stares into his cocoa, still holding onto Sally's hand. "I don't think I went to bed hungry more than once or twice. Thalia used to do it all the time. She'd tell me she ate while I was asleep, and since I was, like, two, I didn't know any better but to believe her." 

Suddenly, Sally understands why Thalia was crying so hard.

("He's gotten so tall— I couldn't feel his ribs—")

She can still vividly remember staring at the cupboards while her little boy clawed at her leg, realizing there wasn't enough for them both and she was still two days away from getting paid. She went that long once, and only broke her fast because she fainted at work. 

Her manager— one of the rare good ones she'd had— had kept her clocked in, hauled ass across the street to buy her a peanut butter milkshake and made her sit in his office and rest for the remainder of her shift. After that, he worked hard to push through the promotion that the store manager kept finding excuses to avoid, and with it came enough of a pay raise that she didn't have to do it more than once or twice a month. 

She'd been twenty-four at the time. Thalia wasn't even in double digits, apparently.

"I'm okay, Ms. Jackson. It was a long time ago." 

She realizes she's tearing up only when Jason cuts through her thoughts. He's smiling, and he really does look healthy and cared for, if a little coltish.

"Honey." She lets go of his hand to grip his shoulder, her grip almost as tight as her throat. "I'm not your teacher. I'm a friend who wishes she could go back in time and adopt you. Please call me Sally." 

It lightens the mood like a match illuminating total darkness. Jason slumps in the chair with a breathless laugh, glancing nervously at her. 

"It's a hard habit to break, but I'll try." 

She wants nothing more than to pull him into a hug, but she doesn't want to spook him. She smiles back at him instead, as warmly as she can possibly manage.

"Trying at all is something to be proud of." 

-Untitled WIP from Sally's POV! stellarverse AU, shortly after Jason and Percy meet freshman year of high school. Some additional excerpts of published fics for context below the cut.

On the one hand, it makes him giddy to expose Jason to unconditional parental support, but on the other, the fact that he has to go to Percy's parents for that support because he can't get it from his own is spittle-frothingly rage-inducing. 

When they're at home, the only thing they have to worry about is not getting too handsy in front of the baby or scarring Percy's parents for life, or at most, doing the dishes because Jason felt it was his duty as guest. He'd vehemently insist, saying it was the only way he could think of to express his gratitude, which would make Percy's mom tear up and hug him tight and tell him that being good to her firstborn was all the thanks she needed. 

She's always liked Jason, and she's always worried about him, too. She's certainly heard enough of Percy's ranting to stay on top of the situation, and was already known for remembering everything she's ever been told about someone's tragic backstory. Jason, like most of Percy's friends, was desperately lacking that energy in his life, and by the third visit he'd given her a rundown of his entire life history. 

I feel like I can tell her anything, he'd said to Percy later, thrown off his game by a particularly raw word-vomit. Every bit of it is massively unfair–that Jason's stepmother takes out her anger over her spouse's infidelity on the children who'd had no choice in being born, that his father didn't care enough about him to do anything more than show up once or twice a month and give him a blistering, vaguely threatening lecture, that his mother had barely even remembered he existed, and only by enough to make herself look more pitiable. 

Most upsetting of all was that his sister–seven or eight years old then–had essentially been forced to parent him through toddlerhood by herself, because no one else was paying enough attention to stop a two-year-old from trying to give himself a lip piercing with a stapler. Half the time, nobody else was paying enough attention to feed him, either.

It makes Percy want to throw something out a window. Fortunately for everyone, while she's in agreement, his mom has a lot more experience in channeling her anger productively than he does, and isn't prone to agitating herself into letting it boil over. She focuses instead on making her apartment the coziest, homiest place she possibly can, on showering Jason with all of the maternal adoration and pride he'd been missing out on, and letting him know he could show up on her doorstep at three in the morning without notice and she'd welcome him inside with open arms and a mug of hot tea. 

- I Guess You're Just What I Needed

Thalia had made a game out of collecting the recyclables strewn over the floor, which just meant that she'd cheer him on and make a huge celebratory fuss when he found something plastic. The glass and aluminum were 'big-kid stuff', so she didn't have to worry about him hurting himself on sharp edges or hard surfaces; she diverted his desire to be just like her by pretending his contributions were heavier, so he could feel like he was helping. 

She'd gather them all up in a little red wagon and take Jason to the convenience store down the street to exchange their loot for deposits. His job had been putting the plastic in the machine, one at a time, while she held him up so he could reach. They'd put the change in a coffee can, already rattling with whatever bills and coins she'd found in the mess of the apartment, and use it to re-load the wagon with as much prepackaged, shelf-stable food as it would get them. 

Sometimes, they'd get someone nice behind the counter who asked where their parents were and went thin-lipped when she tried to deflect it by lying that their mother had a migraine, and they'd end up with twice as much food as they had money for. Those trips always made Thalia more nervous, and she'd tended to startle every time the doorbell rang for at least a week afterwards. 

Back then, the routine felt normal, even pleasant; he learned quickly to associate it with a full belly and a feeling of safety. Like so many of his scars, he hadn't realized how deep it was until he related the story in the Jackson-Blofis kitchen, Sally's eyes filling with tears as she took his hand and squeezed until it hurt.

-We Should Have Each Other With Cream, chapter 11

See also my "thundersibs" tag.

[catxsnow]

W(H)INE T.D.

Summary: Tim learns that drinking wine leads to revealing secrets about you. 

Warning: Fluff, little-bitty angst, underage drinking 

A/N: I’d love to know what you guys think! I’ve written a few large fics before but never imagines and I wanna know if I’m actually decent at them lol

GIF is not mine

Word count: 3k

You knew that Tim loved you.

You knew that no matter how many times he forgot about your plans or didn't do the things you asked of him that he still loved you. No, he didn't forget, Tim had an excellent memory which had often times come in handy for yourself. It was the fact that his second life sometimes over took his life with you.

So, as much as you knew that Tim loved you, you also knew that he loved his job as Robin just a little bit more.

And you couldn't blame him. The moment that Tim found out that Bruce Wayne was Batman and wiggled his way into the life of a vigilante, you were right by his side. If Bruce wanted to adopt Tim, then he was going to have to take you in as well (though not legally). He seemed to enjoy your corny jokes and childish laugh.

You had become friends with Tim from an early age and hadn't left his side since. You were with him through the death of his mother and he was with you through the hardships of your own. Tim was never surprised to see you with a frown on your face after a fight with you parents. He knew that you had never gotten along with them and that they had the tendency to make your life miserable. So when he moved into the Wayne Manor, it was your little saving grace too.

Whenever nights were hard at home, you would show up to the manor, often times drenched in rain and tears streaming down your face. It was always Alfred that would answer the door and while you showered, he would ensure that the guest room you claimed as your own was ready for your night's sleep.

Tim would be waiting for you on your bed and the moment you laid eyes on him you would collapse into his always open arms. He had always been there for you and you appreciated him for that. Not to mention that you also realized that your feelings for him were more than just friendly.

It had been on and off for a little while. You and Tim were trying to decide if a relationship was right for the both of you or if you should just stick to friendship. After months of going back and forth, you finally had enough of the games and decided that you loved him, you needed him, and most importantly, you had him.

Dating Tim was the best thing that had happened to you. It gave you even more time away from your home and parents, and brought you closer to the Wayne family. The moment you started dating Tim, you would no longer sleep in the guest room, but rather his bed. Bruce and Alfred were both aware of this little switch even though you tried to keep it under wraps.

It started as only once or twice a week, and then the whole weekend, and the next thing you knew you had practically moved in with them. You were so close to being an adult and the lack of attention that your parents gave you meant that it was easy to spend your time there. Bruce didn't mind - but he did have a very serious, very awkward chat with the both of you.

The thing that Tim loved most about sharing a bed with you, was that every night that he went out as Robin, he knew that he had something to look forward to for coming home. He knew that he had someone worth fighting for to get home. You were the reason that no matter what trouble he got himself into, he would always find a way out of it.

However, some days, you felt as if Tim cared more about his vigilante status than your relationship status. You knew that this was important to him, you knew that saving people in Gotham was the greatest accomplishment of his, and you supported him through every step of the way.

It was why when you missed him, you would two mugs of whatever hot beverage you were feeling that night down to him in the cave and spend time with him while he worked. Sometimes, you would break into the wine cellar to pour the two of you a couple glasses of wine. Bruce said that you were too young to drink but Alfred always helped pick out a bottle so you kept doing it.

That night, it had been a long day for you and you could only assume Tim felt the same, so you had decided on wine rather than coffee. Tim was down in the cave and Bruce was working late at Wayne Enterprises. But, while you poured the two glasses, you were surprised to see Jason walk in.

"What are you doing here?" You asked, setting the bottle down. You didn't know Jason very well, but knew his story almost too well. Tim tried his best not to remind you of his brutal death and that could just as easily happen to him. You tried not to think about it, but knowing that Tim might not make it back home to you terrified you more than anything.

After Jason came back to life and settled in with Roy and Kori, he made very few appearances at the Manor. To be honest, you couldn't blame him. Being there had to have reminded him of what his life used to be like. He was a different person than he used to be, at least that was what Bruce would tell you and Tim.

"I need to talk to Bruce," Jason looked equally confused that you were drinking. As far as he was aware, you were underage, not that age ever stopped him when he was young. Jason glanced around, though the manor was huge, it didn't sound like anyone else was home. "Are you drinking? On a Thursday?"

"Yes," You answered simply, taking a sip of the gorgeous red alcohol. You slid the second glass over the counter to him, which he accepted. He wasn't much a wine drinker but he couldn't let someone younger than him drink without him. "Bruce isn't here, he's at the tower. Not that this is my home, but you're welcome to stay. I haven't seen you for a while, Jason."

Jason only nodded. When he first met you, he just assumed that you were some girl that was dragging on Tim's arm because of the money. He was wrong, very wrong. After learning that you had a similar childhood to his, he quickly realized that you were a fighter. Though he never took the time to talk to you, he assumed you couldn't be that bad.

After thinking for a moment, Jason sat on the stool across from you. You didn't think that he would stay, he was never one to waste time with conversations that he didn't deem necessary. But, you enjoyed his company. As much as Bruce detested how Jason handled situations, you didn’t find him too bad.

You asked him about his time with the Outlaws, to which he told you these grand stories of things he had gone through. You never agreed with his methods, but you understood why he felt the need to do them. Gotham was the kind of city that would break you in half if you didn't fight back.

He asked you how Tim was doing. You dived maybe a little too deep into your relationship with him and details that Jason didn't need to know about - and didn't ask for. But, he didn't seem to be bothered by it. As much as he wished that Tim wasn't Robin after what had happened to him, he was glad that you were there for him. Dick had Barbra, and Jason, well, he had no one to comfort him after hard nights out.

Nearly two bottles later, you were a little tipsy and had learned more about Jason than you had your entire life. He decided that it was time to get going and that talking to Bruce would have to be done another night. "If you ever need anything, don't be shy to call," Jason told you. Even though you were quite a few years younger than him, he found it easy to relate.

"You too, Jay," You told him. "Maybe stop by more often, I think Tim would like to see you more too." Jason made no promises and headed towards the door. He paused for a moment and looked back at you. 

“Tim’s lucky to have you. Keep him safe, yeah?” 

“Of course.” 

The moment you stood up from you chair, you felt a little bit dizzy and didn't realize you had drank so much. You shook the feeling off and carried the two glasses to the batcave.

Just as expected, Tim was still there, slaving over the computers. He heard you come in but didn't turn around from the screen. You set the two glasses down and wrapped your arms around him from behind. In the reflection of the screen, you could see the smile on his face. You pecked his cheek and then handed him the glass.

Tim still didn't turn away from the screen. He was far too engrossed into his research to give you the attention you so desired. So, you had taken the matter into your own hands. You set your own glass beside his and snaked under his arms so that you could completely wrap yourself around him while he sat in the chair.

You sat in his lap facing him with your legs dangling from the sides and your arms tightly snug around his waist. Without missing a beat, Tim straightened up so that you could snuggle into the crook of his neck. It wasn't the first time that you two sat like this and it surely wasn't going to be the last.

It was nearly twenty minutes that you stayed like that. Even in that cold cave, he always seemed to radiate heat and you were always there to soak it up. Tim loved when you were like this, just craving his touch and the utter need to be close to him even without talking to him.

When you looked up at him, the first thing he noticed were your flushed cheeks and glazy eyes. You had been drinking, not a lot, but enough that it made your face tinge pink. Tim didn't say anything but took a sip of his glass.

"Long night?" You asked.

"Better now that you're here," Tim admitted. He never said it, but he loved when you visited him while he worked. It made the time go by faster, even if most of the time you both worked in silence. "How many glasses have you had?"

"Jason stopped by," You answered. That in itself should have been sufficient enough for Tim to realize. Not to mention that Jason held his liquor way better than you, so while you were pretty tipsy he probably felt sober still. "I think he got me wine drunk so that he could talk about his feelings and assume I wouldn't blab to Bruce."

"What'd you guys talk about?" Tim asked.

"You," he raised an eyebrow. "About how much I love you, and the good things you do in this world and that no matter what I'm always going to be there for you even if sometimes I feel that you care about being Robin more than you care about me."

You didn't mean to say that. You kept your feelings hidden about him being Robin because you didn't want him to feel guilty for something that he was great at. You knew the moment the words left your mouth that it had taken him by surprise.

"(Y/N), you know that's not true," Tim set his glass down so that he could cup your face with both hands. You refused to meet his eye, worried about what he was going to say. "I'm Robin because I want to make this city a better place, I want to make if safe. Safe enough that one day we could have a family and not be worried about getting hurt."

You finally looked up into his eyes. They were filled with concern for you. "I love you, (Y/N). I have for a long time now and being Robin is never going to change that," Tim promised. He kissed your forehead, your nose, and finally your lips. "Why didn't you say this to me before?"

"Because I know you love this job, and I never wanted you to think that you had to choose it or me because that's not the case. I love that you're Robin and that you're brave enough to go fight that evil that lurks the streets. I just wonder sometimes that if I didn't practically live here if I would see you that often."

"I would make all the time in the world for you if that was what you wanted," Tim told you.

"You know that's not what I want," You answered him truthfully. You didn't want to take away this part of his life, never. "Just one normal night a week, even every two weeks is fine. Movies, pizza, wine, or whatever we're feeling for the night. I don't want to take away Robin from you, even if I could."

"That sounds perfect to me, my love," Tim kissed you once more. You guys had tried to maintain that once before but it didn't take long for the tradition to break and once a week turned into once a month, which gradually turned into a surprise maybe twice a year. This time was going to be different.

"Good, now come on," You dragged yourself away from him and instantly missed the warmth. "I'm already a bottle of wine in which means you need to catch up," you stuck your hand out for him to grab. He looked between you and the screen and nodded. Tim typed for a few seconds before grabbing your hand.

"You know Bruce doesn't like us drinking his wine," Tim reminded you as you walked hand in hand to the exit of the cave.

"It's not like he can't afford to replace them."

><

To no surprise, you woke up with a pounding headache. Once Tim agreed to leave the batcave, the two of you had drank for a long time after that. Besides the two bottle that you and Jason had gone through, you must have had another three, at least. Tim caught up and the two of you kept the liquor coming.

Tim was passed out beside you, he was stripped down to his boxers and splayed out with no blankets covering him. You on the other hand, only had his shirt to cover your body and all the blankets on the bed wrapped around you. He wasn't awake yet but you were sure that he was going to be in the same pain you were.

The small amount of light that shone through the blinds made you squint and if you could get up to close them the rest of the way, you would. Instead, you slowly tucked back away into the pillow and closed your eyes, hoping that the pain in your head would go away. It didn't.

You must have laid there for nearly and hour before you heard Tim groan. You rolled over to face him but he didn't say anything. You were right, the two of you had been the most hungover that you had been in your life. A wine hangover at that.  

It was rare, very rare, that either of you ever had more than just one or two drinks, never more than one or two whole bottles. So, this feeling that resided in your head, your stomach, you weren't used to and you sure as hell didn't like it either. Tim had to have been feeling the same way.

Neither of you were making it to school that day and you couldn't believe that you were willing to drink that much on a weekday. It wasn't like either of you to miss class - then again, one day of not going wasn't going to hurt.

"Tim?" you whined. He was awake, but didn't dare open his eyes. Tim let out a noise that you assumed meant that he was listening to you. "Let's not do that again." Once again, he only grunted to agree. Tim rolled towards you and you couldn't tell if it was to avoid the light or because he wanted to cuddle.

Either way, you didn't mind.

Your little amount of peace didn't last long when Bruce came knocking on your door. He saw all the empty bottle in the kitchen and had known that it must have been you too. Nearly six bottle between the two of you? There was no way that you drank all that much - which you hadn't. Jason helped too.

The two of you groaned at the noise and tried to block the sound out. Thankfully, Bruce left and didn't try again. Tim buried his head into your neck, leaving light kisses. If you weren't so hungover you would have enjoyed where that was going.

Not even ten minutes after Bruce left, he returned. This time he had barged right into the room - to which you weren't that shocked about. He did it quite often and you learned to never, ever, sleep without close on after the first mishap. Tim pulled the covers over top of both of your heads.

Bruce, on the other hand, was sitting on the desk chair, with none other than a glass of wine in his hand.

The moment that the pungent grape smell hit your nose, you knew that it was over. Your stomach started to turn and you swear that you nearly through up on the spot. Bruce knew exactly what he was doing and you knew that too. Without being able to control yourself, you leaned into the garbage can by Tim's bed and threw up.

"I told you not to drink my wine."

[flying-nightwing]

Sing Me to Sleep

Haha I’m legit crying good luck with this one if you cry easily like me. So basically this is me evacuating stress by writing a god damn tragedy once again. Don’t worry tho I gave you a little break at the end so you don’t think I’m cruel. Anyway Siri play Quit Playing Games with my Heart by the Backstreet Boys.

Masterlist in bio // pinned post

Pairing: siblings Jason x reader

Word count: 2547

Warnings: dealing with death/grief, language

Summary: You’ve taken so much with you // but left the worst with me (insp.)

You knew something was wrong when Bruce came back from patrol without Jason. His head was low, and he refused to meet your eyes. In fact, he had avoided you altogether. You were kindly but firmly escorted out of the cave by Alfred as the Bat came back, and that confirmed that the night had definitely gone awry. You waited, waited and waited, biting your nails, pulling your hair, until the sun came up and took its place well up in the sky. You were tired and sleepless, but you couldn’t close your eyes. You were nervous, not knowing what was going on. A thousand scenarios ran into your mind, yet none of them prepared you for the solemn expression that was painted over Bruce’s face when he finally came up the batcave later in the morning. He had dark circles under his eyes, contrasting over the red around his iris. You stopped breathing. 

Bruce wasn’t the one to express emotion, so it was bad. Even without words, especially without words, it told you everything you needed to know. He placed a hand on your shoulder, squeezing lightly, and your heart sank.

“No” You muttered, trying to catch his glance. He wouldn’t let you in. “That’s impossible”

“I’m sorry kid” His voice cracked, but was quickly covered with a clearing of his throat. 

“That can’t be…”

He walked away. Your legs shaked, and you had to hold on the wall not to fall. You couldn’t let yourself believe anything bad happened to Jason. He was your big brother, the one person you looked up the most to. Your vision blurred with tears. He couldn’t be gone, no, he always came through. He was strong and resilient, and you still believed it was just a terrible, terrible nightmare. But unfortunately, you were still aware and no amount of pinching your skin and biting your cheek to draw blood could change that. 

You let yourself fall on the ground, right beside the piano. Your chest heaved, the tightness restricting your lungs from expanding enough to give you air. You recognized the symptoms of a panic attack, but you couldn’t stop it. Usually, Jason would be there to help you calm down. He would always be there to do breathing exercises with you, or distract you from your spiralling down. He was good at that, he understood you better than anyone here in the manor. 

You had a similar story, so there was no surprise at all you bonded so quickly. Dick was almost jealous of the relationship you had with Jason. Bruce adopted you after your trip to juvie for shoplifting instant noodles and gatorade for the third time. You were only fourteen back then, and Bruce bailing you out saved your life. There were a lot of things you didn’t expect from this life, but what you truly didn’t see coming was to have someone who related to you in this new life. From day one, you got along with Jason. You were angsty and brooding and confrontational, and instead of frowning at you, he gave you tips on how to make it all even more effective. In a matter of weeks, he became your best friend. He taught you everything he knew about the Manor, about how to navigate the life of a Wayne. You used to sneak outside during galas and functions to smoke cigarettes he never told you where he got, bitching on the guests and on how ridiculous it all was. You would be miserable together at some points, but it was better than being miserable alone. 

At least he understood. 

You thought about the last words you exchanged before he went on patrol last night. Could you even remember what you said? It was something banal, you knew it. Probably a dumb joke, or words that didn’t matter at all. What if it was the last thing you said to him? Ever? It couldn’t be it. 

“Miss (Y/N)?” 

You looked up to Alfred, who was standing in front of you with a concerned frown. His eyes held an infinite amount of sadness, but he was doing his best to stay strong. 

“He’ll come back, won’t he?” You asked, still hopeful. You had to be.

“Master Todd--” For a second there he threatened to come undone, but he composed himself, for your sake probably. “The Joker was involved. He… There was an explosion”

You felt a hot tear roll down your cheek. Alfred looked away.

“There was nothing Master Wayne could do” He shook his head, his voice slightly higher than usual. “I am so sorry, Miss (Y/N)”

You tried, god knows you tried to stay strong. That’s what he would have told you, to hold your head up and battle through it all. But you weren’t him and now he was gone for real. The dam made of denial you had put up to hold the emotions at bay broke in a thousand pieces, suddenly flooding you with the sharpest pain you ever felt. 

Bruce would never tell you, but the cry of agony you let out at that moment made his own tears fall off in cascades again.

---

The funeral had been kept small and away from prying eyes. 

The last thing Bruce wanted was for the paparazzi to show up and turn it into a tabloid. He had been very pragmatic in the last days, almost like nothing had happened. But you knew. He was just better at hiding his grief. You hadn’t talked to anybody ever since that night, not even Alfred despite knowing he didn’t deserve your silence. He was hurting too, but your pain was crippling. The only reason you even got out of bed and showered was to pay your last respects to Jason. Not even to him, to a closed casket and a headstone. Was there even enough left of him to bury a body? You had no idea. Bruce didn’t speak about it. You didn’t want to know either. 

The sky had opened minutes after the burial ceremony. You stood at the back of the small crowd composed of Bruce, Alfred and Dick, far enough so they couldn’t be tempted to look at you with pity, or worse, ask you to say some words. The black headstone in the manor’s backyard was taunting you, reminding you you were once again all alone. 

Here rests Jason Todd

Loving son and brother

It wasn’t fair. You wanted to scream and the sky, so loud you would make the thunder seem like a whisper. It wasn’t fair. You had never felt such pain before, not when your mother bailed, not when you learned your father was found dead in his car. Your adopted brother was the closest family you had, you loved him so much and now he was gone, just like that.

You tore your eyes from the gravestone when you heard your name being spoken close to you. You hadn’t even noticed Dick approaching, let alone him stopping that close you, his black umbrella overlapping yours. His eyes were red and puffy, and he didn’t even try to hide it. You had forgotten Jason was his brother too. 

“You should come back inside” His voice was wavering, hiccuping here and there. Only then you noticed everybody else was gone. “You’ll catch a cold”

You shook your head. 

“I need time alone with…” You couldn’t finish your sentence. But he understood. He simply walked away, leaving you under the rain to give one last formal goodbye. 

You walked to the foot of the still open hole in the ground, staring at the dark wooden coffin laying at the bottom that remained undisturbed by the cold of the morning. For a while you didn’t talk, because you didn’t want to but also because you couldn’t. There was this lump in your throat that stole from you your restrain on your emotion. You couldn’t even start to describe what you were feeling, as everything was spinning so fast in your head. You were dizzy and wanted off, but unfortunately, you had no control on anything. You had little else choice than to be a victim of your own inability to process the death of a loved one. So when you could finally speak, you were surprised, but not really, that what came out was anger.

“Fuck you Jason” It came off weaker out loud than how you felt it inside, like a tidal wave crashing on a rock before it could reach the shore. “Why did you leave me alone?”

Your tears joined the pouring rain in their symphony. 

“You knew how much you meant to me, you knew!” You flexed your frozen fingers on the handle of the umbrella. “And you still left me. I hate you!”

Your words fueled your sobbing. Your hand flew to your mouth, regretting instantly what you said. Jason didn’t deserve those harsh words you didn’t mean, but your chest was heavy and it was the only thing that would come out. You felt restricted even in the large field, like you were in the coffin instead of him. Maybe you should have been. Maybe if you had accepted Bruce’s offer to join the vigilante life, maybe you would have been with him, maybe you could have even saved him. He didn’t leave you, you left him. It was your fault, not his. Why did you say you hated him? Now you hated yourself.

“I’m so sorry Jason” You couldn’t even hear the words you were saying, but you felt the urge to speak them anyway. “I’m so sorry. I don’t, I don’t hate you. I just miss you so fucking much. I don’t know what I’ll do without you around. You’ve taken everything good in this world with you, and left the worst out here with me. You’re gone, and I’m still here. You always told me to be strong, but I can’t, not without you. I’m not sure I can do this, Jason. I could have learned so much more from you, but what’s left now? I just wished I could talk to you one more time, tell you how much you changed my life for the better. Just give you one more hug, even though you pretended you hated it because that's how a brother acts. Learn one more dumb self defense move. Steal your snacks one more time, so you can be mad at me but still make sure you buy extra for me. You thought I didn’t know you were never really mad. How can I steal your snacks now, if you’re not there to catch me in the act?”

You paused to breathe, the action now a little easier. Your tears had stopped and so did the rain, leaving a thick, cold mist hanging above the dewy grass. His absence was a permanent ache on your side, his soul felt so far away even though his body was right in front of you. The lid of the coffin acted as the veil in between the living and the dead, a veil you couldn’t see through. You wondered if he was on the other side, and if he was, whether or not he was as lost and scared as you, searching for a familiar face in all this fog. The best you could hope now was for him to be at peace. 

“I know you had a hard time believing anybody could love you” You sighed, calmer now. “But I did. I’ve looked up to you from the moment I met you. You were my hero. I guess… I guess I just wanted you to know that. I’m sorry I never told you out loud, I should have but now it’s too late. I just hope you knew that you were the most important person to me, and that I will miss you every remaining day of my life. Thank you Jason, for everything you gave me. I wish I had the time to repay the favour while I still had the time. I’m so sorry”

You stayed there until sundown.

---

Every morning for five years you visited Jason’s grave, every morning but this one. You woke up late for a final, barely having the time to dress up and steal a bagel from the kitchen. You told yourself you would visit it tonight, that it was no big deal. Dick barely went anymore, and Bruce liked to ignore it was even there. Still, you knew he thought about it from time to time, by how he looked through the windows on rainy days. But still, it felt wrong not to go talk to him even just a little bit. I stayed at the back of your mind for the entire duration of the final. 

The smog provided a thick blanket over gotham, but the sun, ever so resilient, managed to peek through the yellow-ish cover to warm the concrete jungle that was Gotham. Your exam was your only appointment of the day, so you allowed yourself to read a book in the metro that brought you back to the outskirts of the city. Coincidently, it was one of Jason’s favourites. You had already gotten through his entire collection, but this was the one that stuck out the most to you. The wagon was only half full, so you sat next to the window to take advantage of the rare golden light that seemed to only increase the farther you got from the inner city.

Without tearing your eyes from the words in front of you, you got off at the last stop and jogged down the platform’s stairs until you reached your car. Only then you put the book aside and drove back the short way to the manor. You picked the book again when you got off, slowly walking around the house, drinking the words like water in the desert. Your feet walked on their own the way to the small Wayne graveyard, a way they already knew without needing your guidance. However, they stopped when you noticed a tall figure standing exactly where you usually would. Your eyes left the page, squinting at the stranger. It wasn’t Bruce, and it wasn’t Dick, despite the similar black hair. He had heard you coming, you recognized the subtle shift in the posture you observed your vigilante family do countless times. 

“Hello?” You decided to call. “Can I help you?”

He froze. You didn’t understand why, until he turned his shoulder and stared at you with wide, hopeful eyes. You held your breath as you searched his familiar features. It wasn’t the face you remembered, and his eyes didn’t hold the same wonder they did before, but you could still recognize the character in them anytime. At first you didn’t believe it, you pinched yourself a hundred times over in a minute, bit the inside of your cheek until it bled, but he was still standing there, baffled as you were, searching your face for familiarity just as you did him. 

“Jason?”

He gave you a half smile, but it was all you needed. Your eyes teared up as you chuckled in disbelief, pushing aside the questions you had for him and running into his arms.

[taliaquinn]

Why Me!? Chapter 20

Authors Note:                                                                                                So hey guys!! A lot of you figured out my mini-Easter egg when I mentioned New York City. Kudos to you smarties. Let me tell you my tag list is open, because I adore you guys a lot.

“So where's Dick and Cass?” Marinette asked wondering where Dick disappeared off to. He was SUPPOSED to be there on the plane with them. However, once they arrived at the airfield Dick was nowhere to be found. 

Flinching Tim looked up from the business files in his hands. 

Hey while he was gonna be in New York City he may as well look into future business partners and get some more jobs in Gotham. 

“Well uh, Dick he uh decided to stay..home because….” side-eyeing Jason he quickly elbowed him.

Startled while reading his book he took a quick second to decide on a good cover story “because…his ribs still hurt and you know what Bruce is like all overprotective and stuff…so shes babysitting him....” Ugh Tim and Him were going to have to practice on coming up with good cover stories. The whole Keeping the family secret from the family was getting really annoying.

“That sucks, this is my first trip to New York City,” Oblivious to the awful cover stories Marinette continued sketching. She did plan for her class to have a field trip to New York City to tour around. But all those plans went down the drain once she left. Oh well, there loss.  “I'm even going to meet up with my friend Chloe at the hotel!!!” Marinette said excitedly. Chloe sent her an email a day ago about her vacation plans, (her revenge plans too). Marinette was over the moon when she found out that she was going to be there for the Stark Gala too!!!!

Mr.Wayne, her dad, even extended the trip a few days and got her a room, aka suite so Chloe could stay with Marinette more. 

Chloe of course was curious as to who exactly these relatives were. I mean come on they booked a suite at a five-star hotel, in New York City, for Marinette and a Friend.

 Marinette promised to explain everything to her when they were together. 

“She's….the Mayor's daughter right???” Jason asked, trying to change the topic.

Unbeknownst to Marinette, Jason and Dick, before Bruce and Dick fought anyways, convinced Bruce to get Marinette her own suite, so she could do the babysitting job without distractions. It was pretty easy to guilt-trip Bruce once they pulled the “Daughter who you never knew about” card. Guilt-tripping works.

At Marinette's excited nod he added “She’s frikin loaded right?”

“Jason, you realize we’re on a private jet, on our way to New York City, to stay in a five star hotel, to attend the Stark Gala?” Tim teased, flipping through business papers. Bleugh Lex Corp that's a definite pass on that business offer.

“ Yeah right, you guys are attending the Gala” Jason rebutted “I have my own stuff to do Timmers”.  

“Stuff” meaning a top-secret joint mission with Captain Rogers and Black Widow. Working together to take down a drug trafficking ring located in the heart of the city. Working with the Avengers every now and then exhilarating for Jason. Sure the Avengers worked more closely with the Government but they didn't have a universal; “No-Kill” rule.

Which was why Bruce hated joint-missions with the Avengers.

Extra icing on the cake for Jason.

“Excuses” Tim mumbled, upset that Bruce was forcing him to sit the mission out. Something about him being “overworked” pfft. He wasn't drinking coffee that much.

“Speaking of the gala, Marinette you have your dress ready?” He asked. Knowing that Marinette decided to make her own dress for the gala. 

“Yep finished the detailing last night, and have my jewelry and shoes ready,'' Marinette said, patting her suitcase. Mr.Wayne was nice enough to buy her a bunch of fabric and also gifted her a necklace and bracelet to match. He also gave her earrings but she opted out of them since she learned her lesson about taking off her Miraculous. Thank you very much.

“What's with the armbands?” Jason asked, seeing Marinette pack them earlier. He assumed they had something to do with her “babysitting” job. 

“Oh they were Alexei’s, they match with that I'm wearing”

“Your biological mom?”

“Yep, gotta ask Mr. Wayne more about her, I was only barely able to pry so much from my mom” Her mom would get too emotional sometimes when Marinette asked too many questions.  Eventually, she just gave up asking.

“Ha Mr. Wayne, you do know that annoys Bruce to no end right?” Tim joked, seeing Bruce's face of frustration every time Marinette refers to him as Mr. Wayne.

“I do, it's just…” she was still struggling with her Biological parents and having a bunch of siblings suddenly “Too awkward for me to call him anything else”

“Jesus you sound like Peter” he scoffed. 

“Who's Peter?” She asked with a slight scrunch of her eyes. That oddly reminded both Tim and Jason about Bruce. Bruce would scrunch his eyes whenever asking a question sometimes.

“Oh trust me you'll meet him soon” Jason answered going back to his book.

Dick was right the whole Wayne vs. Stark rivalry would be a perfect distraction. Oh if only Tim had his Camera.

......……

They finally landed, and soon Bruce was helping everyone off and into a car and heading towards their hotel. Once at their hotel, Bruce checked their bags in. Jason stayed behind to “rest” while everyone went to Stark Tower.

“Wait so Tony Stark is the one who is Throwing the Gala?” Marinette asked curiously inside the car.

 “Yep he’s throwing the gala to raise funds for hospitals and clinics all located around the world” Rolling his eyes Tim continued “Well that's the official reason anyway, right now he wants to out-do Bruce's Charity Gala from a few months ago” 

“As if that will ever happen” Bruce added. Ha, Stark wished he could outmatch his Galas.

“Talk about rich people's problems” she sighed.

“You're not wrong, One more thing, watch out Tony might try to take you as his own”

“What!?” Marinette squeaked out

Soon they arrived and made their way towards the suites. The elevators swished open to a smiling Pepper Potts and pouting Tony Stark.

“Pep, you see this? Bruce managed to get another one, you know what's the score now? 7-4” Tony complained once he saw Marinette. Bruce only glared back.

Ignoring them Tim stepped off and made a beeline towards Pepper and hugged her careful to squeeze her too tight

“Congratulations Pepper,” Tim said.

“Oh Thank you, Tim. It's great to see you after so long” Pepper said, hugging him back. She glanced around and noticed that a certain Red Hood was missing

“Where's Jason?” she asked frowning

“Unfortunately he stayed behind at the hotel to rest” he answered rolling his eyes. “But I brought someone better,” he said, reaching and pulling a startled Marinette forward.

“Meet Marinette Dupain Cheng,”

“Eeeep, uh Hi, I'm uh Mari-Marinette, but youalreadyknewthat, uh Hi” Marinette stuttered out. 

Completely starstruck at meeting The Pepper Potts. CEO of Stark Industries and Style Icon. Oh god, she wished she brought her sketchbook. Maybe she can do a quick sketch on a napkin

Pepper couldn’t help but smile at the sight of the Stuttering French girl, reminded of another awkward teenager. Hopefully, Tony doesn't try and claim this one. She was pretty sure that Bruce wouldn’t appreciate that at all, judging by the way Bruce was eyeing Tony.

“Brucie dear you adopted another one!?’ Tony teased Bruce swinging his arm around his shoulder

“She's my daughter Stark,” Bruce responded, glaring at Stark  “also what are you pouting about?  I hear you're going to have a baby soon congratulations Pepper by the way”.

“Brucie, you have your gaggle of children. I deserve one too!!” Tony complained, wrapping his arm around his Pregnant Wife's shoulder. Trying, yet failing, to conceal his excitement at getting another kid.

He turned to greet Marinette when suddenly his eyes went wide. Marinette only stared back.  A sudden staring match between her and Mr.Stark was happening apparently. What was Marinette's life? She remembered once being a normal girl. Maybe she should just blink.

“Wait HOLD UP!!!” Tony exclaimed suddenly ending the staring match, looking back and forth between Bruce and Marinette squinting.  “Are you sure this adorable child is your child?” 

“Oh for the love of go- yes I’m sure Stark” Bruce sighed exasperatedly. “Why does everyone ask me that”

“Cause she's adorable, sweet, and all Sunshiney, and well you’re….you” Tim answered. 

“Bingo, Don't worry Bruce I got a Sunshiney child too, matter of fact here he comes now” Tony comforted.

“OhmygoshMr.StarkI’msosorry” a soot-covered Peter apologized running up to him. 

“There was a fire in the lab,dummytriedtoextinguishitbutthemhesprayedhimself,

“Kid, Bruce Wayne is he-” Tony tried to cut in

“soIhadtoputoutthefireandcleanDummyUp”

Rolling his eyes he grabbed Peter's shoulders and twisted him towards everyone else

“Oh...uh Hi?” Peter squeaked out looking like a deer caught in headlights at seeing the three guests

“Hiya Peter,” Tim chirped excitedly standing next to Marinette who was awkwardly waving hello.

“Hi, Tim” Peter answered relieved. Thank god Tim, fellow tech geek, was here. He doubted he could handle Bruce Wayne on his own.

‘Anyways Brucie you remember my sunshiney kid, Peter, right?” gripping Peter's shoulders from walking towards Wayne. Nu-uh he wasn't going to risk losing Peter to Wayne.

“Mr. Stark I'm not your kid, I still live with Aunt May. I'm your inte-”

“Hush kid“ Tony ordered covering Peter's Mouth.

Marinette sent a silent prayer.  Bruce now had his hands protectively on her and Tims shoulders while Mr. Stark was doing the same to Peter. She would need a miracle to be able to survive this trip.

College Francis Dupont                                                                            Paris, France                                                                                                      2 p.m

“NINO!!!”  Nino couldn’t help but flinch, he’s been trying his best to avoid Alya all day. 

Luckily the breakup happened on Friday so he had the weekend to put himself together thanks to friends and icecream, lots of ice cream.

Surprisingly Chloe was the first to approach him after the breakup. After her, Aurore and Kagami came over to comfort him. They brought him some chocolate filled pastries. After a few hours of comfort, he received a phone call from an unknown number. When he picked up it was the voice of the sweetest girl on earth that greeted him.

“Hey Nino”

“Marinette,” Nino breathed out left speechless “Why, why are you even calling me?” 

“Don't be ridiculous Nino, I still consider you my friend, and right now my friend just got out of a toxic relationship” Marinette answered, yep she was happy for Nino when she heard that he broke up with Alya. Finally. “How are you”

“Who even told you?” he asked, still trying to get over the shock.

Releasing a slight giggle she replied “Chloe”

Nino couldn’t help but laugh through slightly watering eyes “Of Course”

At the reminder of Marinette, Nino mustered up the courage necessary and turned to face his ex.

Be brave Be Brave Be Brave B-

“Nino wanna explain to me why you’ve been ignoring me and Adrien since last week!!??” Alya yelled.

Channel your inner Chloe Bourgeois, he reminded himself. “We broke up, remember? I didn't want to hear your excuses”. That was all Alya ever did, make excuses. 

“Excuses?” screeching Alya took a step forward closer to Nino, instead of staying there took a step back trying to keep his distance away from him “Yes, excuses you always try to act like you never did anything wrong, or not even bother to apologize” “No I don’t” 

“You're doing it right now, jeez why do I even bother Marinette warned me” 

“Marinette” she spat out. Of course. She’s the entire reason why she lost Nino. Well, she wasn't going to let her win. She was determined to get Nino Back.

Oblivious to her anger, Nino explained. “Marinette warned me, as your ex-best friend she became well-acquainted with your “apologies”” 

“I don’t owe you an apology, you just overreacted” Adrien called her, and told her how Nino refused to talk to him and was instead talking to the class traitors “Matter of fact I’m here to give you a second chance, we can go and be a couple again and be happy”

“Yeah, sorry no dice,” He started to walk away doing his best to block out her screams. 

“NINO, DONT DO THIS!!!” 

A purple butterfly soon emerged from nowhere. Nino watched as it made its way towards Alya. Only one thought ran through his mind as he witnessed the butterfly merge with Alyas glasses and purple bubbles engulf Alya. 

Run.

Authors Message:                                                                                        Hope you guys enjoyed this extra long chapter. I can’t wait till I post the next chapter. Also I’m gonna start writing a series that focuses on Dick Grayson soon.  

I have part two of the Hamilton AU written out I just have to do this annoying thing called editing. Keep an eye out for that soon.

As Always stay Safe and Healthy Loves.

Taglist: (Still Open)

@purplesundaze @silvergold-swirl @k-poplunardreams @pepelachanel @laurcad123 @maribat-is-lifeblood @kass-is-weird @another-fan-of-anotherplan @damianette-is-life @amayakans @parallelparabox @miukiiu @valeks-princess @toodaloo-kangaroo @vixen-uchiha @thezestywalru @dreamykitty25 @pirats-pizzacanninibles @mochinek0 @shamefullove @mochegato @souleateralicestein @thestressmademedoit @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @aestheticnpoetic @flufflepuffle296@mysupporthyperfixations @itsmeevie01 @jeminiikrystal @iglowinggemma28 @whydoexamsexist @kuroko26 @animalgirl05 @susiej1118 @damianthebratboy @ccwkm6967 @valyui901601 @wannajointhecrabcult @thornalchemist23 @tazanna-blythe @rebecarojas07 @moonlightstar64 @chylou34

[currentfandomkick]

Marinette did not sign up for this part 8

first part here previous part here ao3 here

update at last!

--

Marinette almost screamed when she saw the knitting needles on her balcony. It wasn’t even her birthday yet. Was he around? Taunting her?

School wasn’t helping. She kept her eyes on the windows.

It didn’t help her team was scanning the area constantly… and she was certain that Kagami somehow got out of school as she could spot Ryuuko before school even started, and her shadow had’t moved often.

Alya, Nino and Adrien weren’t leaving her side. Kim had taken to joining them (and with him, Max and Alix) with Kim determined to get Marinette to wear one of his hoodies since “you look cold.”

She knew that was code. ‘Let me help.’ She wasn’t sure this was something safe for them to help with.

“Thanks but I’m good!” was highly ineffective.

Before lunch Kim had his hoodie on her. It made it harder to find her with the change from her usual outfits once Adrien and Alix stole her hairbands.

They were doing a plain sight disguise. She knew it.

Going to Alix’s after school helped a bit with that.

She still felt eyes on her. She couldn’t tell who’s.

Alix was the one to break out the guardian translations with her dad. The Kubdels knew more than most of her team—time travel side effects after all. It was a big part of why she could trust them in the first place: Alix wanted to help and her father knew there would be a Ladybug in Paris before giving Alix the family heirloom. When Marinette saw it after studying the miraculous for a bit and asking Fu if there could be two rabbit miraculouses… it lead to Fu merging the two (from two separate timelines).

In the one Mr. Kubdel was from, a girl named Bridgette took up the role of Ladybug and was followed around by a questionable Black Cat. Mr. Kubdel’s grandfather prevented that timeline from happening—changing key events and all—but was prepared for the chances another rabbit would be needed. His son was not a good fit… (poor research, questionable retention, and overall bad at delicate work) meanwhile Alix had street art done quickly and intricately, fast reflexes, and adored learning history to the point some topics had been re-written in the curriculum for “the complete BS this hack is pushing” and “obvious refusal to stick to the facts” among other objections with heavily cited and sourced works to back up her claims. To a truly terrifying degree.

Its also why once they were out of sight, Alix and Mr. Kubdel and her escaped to one of the secret passaged kept off the current schematics for Miraculous related reasons (escape without being seen leaving) and Alix brought them into her burrow sans ‘time windows’ for her peace of mind.

“What do you want us to do Ladybug?” Bunnix asked.

That was the question…

They tracked that the issue began with what let Robin identify her in the first place. The most likely culprit was the flaming akuma… if Alix went as Bunnix and helped Ladybug catch the butterfly or got it someone else, then Robin would never have identified her, and their current situation wouldn’t be happening.

She wouldn’t be hunted by the Ghosts of Gotham.

But then… her team wouldn’t exist, not as it does.

Chat wouldn’t know who she is.

She wouldn’t exist.

She… she wasn’t willing to give that up.

“We’re not undoing the past.”

Bunnix nodded, gliding around the empty space.

Mr. Kubdel opened and closed his mouth before finally offering his own suggestion. “Perhaps, we could capture them.”

Marinette ran over that option. It wasn’t bad. Not by a long shot… but the capture would deprive Gotham of its vigilantes…

“We only keep Robin, any others captured are cut loose as soon as possible and removed.”

“But Robin is the one that knows your identity,” Bunnix reminded her.

“The others probably figured it out already. But that’s not why we’re keeping him.”

Mr. Kubdel gestured for her to clue them in.

“Remember what the Aesir and Vanir did to end their dispute?”

Mr. Kubdel searched his memories until it hit him. “Ah. That.”

Marinette nodded. “Add in a game of chase, move to the home turf, and we have our plan.”

“And you’re bait?” Bunnix checked, no longer moving about as she absorbed the plan.

--

If you were a civilian in Paris, you might catch sight of what must be someone’s idea of a joke. As not only were there Big Justice Members running around with your local heroes—who up until this point had only worked with one other group (Quantics) who were Europe-based.

But seeing some guy in black with a bluebird on his chest go head to head with Rena, Miss Sting and a very pissed off Monkey King and Pegasus (since when does he get mad like that? Kid looks like he’s going to end Bluebird) was not a sight you were able to process at the moment. Wonder Woman joining the group was the cherry on top. and Carapace was moving civilians out of the way and sometimes caging them all in Shelter.

You also catch an enraged Chat Noir and Ryuuko tearing after some fashion disaster in a cape down the street. A cape for godsake. In broad daylight. Green Lantern was flying after them, and since when does Chat’s suit… move? Like, you’re pretty sure that’s not normal… at all.

Ryuuko and Fashion Disaster (FD for short) are sword fighting. Chat is attacking FD at any opening. Viperion is with them, sometimes shouting directions. Green Lantern seems to be keeping the fight from spilling over.

A check on the Miraculous News App shows pics of Fashion Disaster trying to get too close to the baker’s daughter. You know, the one that kind of slips the heroes snacks and is seen with Chat randomly at her balcony? The one you’re 30% sure he’s crushing on and in some war with Ryuuko for the heart of. Why else would the two be seen so often around it?—Akuma school is across the street.

You blink a few times when you realize that baker’s daughter is visibly scared of FD (and you’d be too if a random Mask with a sword showed up) and apparently had Bunnix with her at the time to help move faster.

That meant whatever happened in another time had to be bad…

Bunnix mentioned that in the world where she went Princess Justice there wasn’t much to stop her…

You can see why the team is a tad… okay, really overzealous. You’re pretty sure Chat tried to cataclysm FD after Ryuuko sent him flying with the air attack.

You manage to get a better view (For the People! and not to mock the villain later—no siree!) of the Bluebird fight. Dude gets taken down by a combination of things in short sucession—Monkey King landing a hit with his power, Wonder Woman’s lasso (through a portal—good on you Pegasus!) that he got pulled through, a flute to the head by Best Girl Rena, and paralyzed by your favorite striped heroine.

The take down shocked FD and Green Lantern caged the guy (teen? Kid? They look small.) and moved them over by Wonder Woman and her group, some of whom dispersed to recharge.

Never claim Bruce is not a dedicated parent. The best? He hopes not. The worst? He has met Stephanie’s parents, and he is far from them. And Cas’s. And he knows he’s not as bad as Rah’s. He is dedicated (and a serial adopters, but shhh). How does he know this?

He managed to reactivate his kid’s trackers and noted where they intersected and looked into properties, deeds, and children in the school across from the bakery Stephanie and Cass had taken to camping out in when not at their hotel rooms. So far, he narrowed down his daughter to three possible candidates—Mireille Caquet, Marinette Dupain-Cheng and Laura Pretre. The only three girls in the age range he suspects Ladybug is in (he paid attention to the early videos and crossed her references, videogames and knowledge of the teens’ involved (re: knowing their names before the class became an akuma gold mine).  They are also the only three from his candidate pool who were adopted or single mother of the right age to have caught his younger self’s attention—a few interviews of the heroes let slip that Ladybug’s parents and her team’s parents are unaware of what they do, and her vicious support for child support and adoptive parents in a few akuma instances gave credit to her belonging to one of those two groups.

It was between Marinette and Laura in his opinion—they both ran a fashion boutique online. Mireille was a model the two shared, but still a possibility.

Jason was helped him narrow it down—a consolation for being stuck in bed and not allowed on patrol for the night. Apparently he was also trying to call off the identity search in-person to prevent any accidental identity reveals and prevent further stressing of “Lady Bat”.

Bruce may have smiled at the nickname. He doubted his daughter would appreciate it, but nicknames had a strange habit of sticking if Jason gave it… for better or worse in Tim’s case. (He was glad that Replacement was replaced with Tiny Tim, Timbo and Timmy).

He also noted that the girls were intent on Gabriel Agreste being Hawkmoth… and had a strange obsession with his relationship to Mayura given their search histories. Tim was still deciding between designers, and he did note that Marinette ranked highly on there… which was both a relief and terrifying.

That meant everyone but his daughter’s “business conduct supervisor” (Adrien Agreste, only son of Gabriel Agreste, primary candidate as Hawkmoth) had been akumatized and someone she had to personally fight while they hurled who knew what at her. He doubted it was good for her mental health. (Not that he has much room to talk, but still.)

Damian and Dick were refusing to respond to his messages, and likely engaged in something.

Until Green Lantern lit up his screen with a pained look. “Bats, this is not what I meant by get your house in order.”

The view panned to Nightwing and Robin currently held by a very pissed off Wonder Woman. With Chat Noir glaring at Robin, something off with his suit.

Batman sighed deeply. “I told you those two weren’t responding since Robin returned with Red Hood last night.”

Green Lantern looked at someone off screen, clearly taking commands from them.

“Uh, yeah… We’re having Supergirl get the other three back Stateside. Miss Sting and Chat want to interrogate these two since Robin was caught around a civilian they keep an eye on.”

Batman could hear what wasn’t being said. Robin went to talk to Ladybug’s civilian identity and it blew up in his face.

“… are any of you allowed to be present to monitor the interrogation?”

He doubted the teens would get violent. (he hoped) but there were too many unknowns.

A hiss from Chat Noir ended his ‘not likely to get violent’ train of thought. His one of his sons was caught stalking their leader, who he has previously tried to kill, and another aimed a gun at a member of their team. Violence was on the table.

And he couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

“Ladybug will choose who comes.”

Robin looked up at him from the background. “Permission to ask Father a question?”

There was a moment when everyone turned to the figure off screen, likely Miss Sting given Ladybug’s refusal to be in the Justice League’s presence.

Robin turned back to the screen, Hal moving closer to give him a better view of Robin. HE was largely unbruised on his face and his breathing was even. Positive indicators.

“Am I allowed to unmask?”

Batman froze. Jason looked up from his spot. He could feel Babs choking on something in shock.

Hal and Diana reacted somehow, but they weren’t in screen.

He meant to do this far later. When she adjusted. To her alone, and later let her team know. ease them into it—there was no knowing one of their identities without knowing the rest. Not with how Ladybug’s mind worked. And he doubted she kept many secrets from her team.

“…I am not opposed to it. Preferably keep it to those you trust with that knowledge alone.”

Robin nodded. “Understood Father.”

--

When Ladybug showed up, she could feel everyone’s eyes on her. She ignored it as best she could, especially the silent Nightwing and Robin… possible assassins. Sent by her biological father who never even met her. it was going to be a long plan execution (and gods, she still needed to double check on the Hawkmoth as Gabriel theory and work out how to remove him from the company without screwing over a decent chunk of the fashion industry workers from design, store front to manufacturers and suppliers. And emotional whiplash of Hawkmoth trying to kill his own son twice. And the times he tried to manipulate her into Princess Justice and have it Stick in the timeline).

All it took was one look at Pegasus. One look and she blocked all the other issues swimming in her mind.

“Ah, we’re going there then… It’s a good thing Cowboy is resting for the moment…” Pegasus shook his head. “Voyage!”

Ladybug looked them over.

“Chat, Miss Sting, Rena, and Pegasus, I need you with me. The rest of you, patrol or return to civilian life until I return. If you come across an akuma, jar them. Contact us if you need a fix only.”

Carapace nodded, looking over at Kim and Alix. “We won’t let you down.”

Ladybug nodded, her eyes narrowing at the two League members present. She was still debating contacting the ‘only in an emergency do you contact this rogue branch’ group… they were once lead by a Chat Noir candidate, or still were… she wasn’t clear on that detail. What she did know is they went by League of Shadows in the book, but it was noted they favored violent forms of destruction, and she wasn’t sure if they needed that method… didn’t want them to need it either.

But the book stated the Amazons were loyal to Ladybugs. “Wonder Woman, please ensure the Bats are out of my city before we return.”

“Of course Ladybug.”

She turned to the Green Lantern. A shakier alliance with the lanterns historically, but also known to tell the Ghosts of Gotham off, and so far he’s shown a high favor of her team’s stance over his technical ally’s. Perhaps a personal grudge, or maybe the Justice League operated more like Gabriel’s company—a chain of command, specific roles somewhat dependent on each other, and no one had to like one another…

Wonder Woman was better to ensure the Bats left.

Green Lantern was the one holding Robin in his ring. And his “Core” as the book said, was most responsive to Ladybug who didn’t hesitate to protect others and themselves at once. That they showed a level of comradery during times when the Order followed philosophies that could be linked the idea of “personal and individual impact upon others with one’s actions and choice” was the exact wording.

She hoped she was doing this right.

“Green Lantern, if you would be so kind as to come with us and bring Murder Robin? You are free to roam once we get there, but don’t try to locate where on earth we are then. It’s the one place Hawkmoth hasn’t been able to reach, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

Green Lantern and Robin both agreed readily.

Nightwing looked like he really wanted to argue. A lot.

Wonder Woman somehow kept him from speaking as they left.

Marinette could finally breath when they entered the Temple. She wasn’t able to bring back the Guardians. She could bring back their scrolls, the library, the training rooms. It also meant they were far from Paris, from Hawkmoth’s reach, and that now the real plan had to be put in action… how to keep the bats out of Paris and her secret identity a secret. (Hawkmoth could wait. She needed time to work that out, and once she was sure, once the nagging doubt and what ifs stopped plaguing her… then she’d look for that solution… maybe Adrien could inherit early or they could arrange for his father to be caught committing tax fraud or something after getting Nooroo and Duusuu? Anything to ensure he was punished for his actions and that Adrien isn’t caught in the crossfire. She can’t lose the literal other half of her soul. She just. Can’t.)

Ladybug paused when she looked over Chat. His suit was… moving. Shadows were moving on his suit. That. That can’t be good.

“Chat, bring Murder Robin somewhere he can’t find a weapon, Miss Sting, make sure no one attacks anyone in any way, am I clear?”

Miss Sting gave a curt Nod while Chat hissed, but relented easily enough.

Green Lantern put a hand on her shoulder while Pegasus ran off to the library, likely to check up on his own additions to the place… bringing it into the twenty-first century was not easy.

“Going to check-in with what’s going on with your Cat?”

Ladybug glanced at him. “He’s my partner.”

“Pretty sure that’s what a Black cat is for a Ladybug,” Green Lantern said.

Ladybug didn’t respond, moving away from him and Rena to message Alix to find out what shadows have to do with the Black Cat… and if she needs to worry about a second Atlantis event.

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

so things are happening because Mari is Smart Strategist, Protect Mari Squad is a force to be reckoned with (teen superheros love local baker daughter that gives them food and lets them hang out), Kubdels Know Their Timelines (Sort of) and Wonder Woman and Hal know better than pissing of a Ladybug while Bruce is off Suffering and Putting Shit Together.

and yeah, Damian is both the one who started this, and the one that Marinette wants to confront, (plus respects her secret ID rights unlike Certain Bats who made it a competition) so he gets First Meet rights in the way None Of Them Wanted.

anyone who wants to add to the madness, feel free to comment possible things and i'll see what sticks and doesn't.

fight scenes are Not My Best so i tried where I could (Sorry to batfam fans who wanted Dick to be Badass. he's up against Diana and four miraculous members directly PLUS carapace 'i am locking you into this space now' shelter? he's good but its Wonder Woman and five demi-god level heroes raised on adapt and overcome heroing. long battle but he was going to lose.) Damian's fight is left up to interpretation but Team-Work makes the Dream Work for this story.

@heldtogetherbysafetypins @laurcad123 @raisuke06 @chaosace@jeminiikrystal @toodaloo-kangaroo @kris-pines04 @bisha43rbs @izang