#baticorn writes

[baticorngirl]

Down the Rabbit Hole (And Climbing Back Out Again)

Rating: General Audiences Fandom: Batman/DC Relationship(s): Talia al Ghul/Bruce Wayne, Ra's al Ghul & Talia al Ghul (Heavily Mentioned), Characters: Talia al Ghul, Bruce Wayne, Ra's al Ghul (Heavily Mentioned) Word Count: 3,701 Summary:

After enough times of constant betrayal, Ra's got fed up and in a heated argument, told Talia he was going to disown her. Now, she stands just out the backdoor of Wayne Manor, contemplating how, after all the times of him taking her back without question, she was supposed to respond to this. At least, with her Beloved standing behind her quietly, she is not completely alone. (For @brutalia-week, Day 4: Talia Needs/Gets A Hug)

Click here to read on Ao3 instead (which also has an A/N) Click here to read Day 3 Click here to read Day 2 Click here to read Day 1

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"Are you okay?"

Bruce gazed at her softly. The muscles in his face were loose, dragging downward in a sympathetic expression, and his arms swayed back and forth. Despite a clear focus on her, his eyes were much less than fixated; they jumped back and forth from a reserved look to her, and an awkward peek to the ground. Nonetheless, he lifted his hand upwards and out towards her, just barely missing the back edge of her shoulder.

Talia's knees stumbled as she stood a few feet in front of him. His eyes widened as he observed their jitters and shakes, as well as the loud breaths she puffed into the air at the front. Aside from the shaking, though, her body didn't move a millimeter. The paralysis of her actions came off eerie, as if she was only a tranquil ghost, patiently haunting the manor's back porch. On the other side, her eyes stared downward, to the back of the bench in front of her and the intricate woodwork throughout it. They blinked constantly but slowly, leaving each blink to last disturbingly long, only for another lengthy blink to begin again right after.

"I have no more than a few scratches," she muttered monotonously, her throat dry and sore from dehydration.

"That's… good," he remarked.

Then, the conversation ended— paused, at least, with neither having adequate words in their head to continue it. Bruce's eyes remained restless; their bouncing began to extend from just a two-way ping-pong, to an entire hockey game of chaotic darting. His arm, on the other hand, had swiftly dropped in contrastingly-still defeat. Meanwhile, Talia prevailed in stillness in all regards. Her own arms appeared like popsicle sticks, glued to her sides so unnaturally, and her shoulders were fixed in an upwards shrug. The more this went one, the more her body felt exhaustion take over those areas, but the prospect of moving them from the positions only made her more mentally fatigued.

Fortunately for her, Bruce's attempts to restart conversation served as a decent distraction from these aches. He picked his arm back up, though at much lower degree than before, and held it in the air.

"That… that wasn't what I meant," he corrected, slow and careful with each word. "I didn't… didn't mean physically okay, I meant–"

"I know what you meant," she said, quickly and shortly.

But then, her mouth closed again. His eyes slowed at her words, yet only slightly; his eyes glazed up and down her entire body. Bruce's mouth slitted open, as well, and hung there, no words managing to slip out. His arm lowered an inch, and then continued resting in the bland, humid summer air. It had begun to grow tired now; the exhaustion didn't even compare to Talia's own, though, not just in her arms, but in the deep tissues of her torso. A raging fear silently burned in her chest with each and every slow breath. Bruce felt a minor burning sensation in his own heart just seeing the small tints of body language from hers.

"Then what is your answer?" he finally asked. "To that question?"

Talia opened her mouth, but in comparison to the timing of that action, her spoken answer was significantly delayed. "I… have elected not to answer it."

Bruce raised an eyebrow. "Have you, now?"

"It's trivial," she explained, letting her body somehow get even stiller than before, and her voice even softer. "You already know the answer, don't you?"

Bruce swallowed, smoothing his tongue against the roof of his mouth. He felt the bumpy texture of it crawl under the sharp ends of his teeth, and the disconcerting tingle made him shudder. In that shudder, his shoulders flinched upwards, their muscles abruptly tightening. He forced them down, though, as he did the same with his startled eyebrows. Yet, eventually, his chin ducked in a crisp nod, followed by a reluctant grunt.

Talia took a deep breath, as much as her chest still ached. Her own chin bounded upwards in an opposite movement to Bruce's, with her eyes finally lifting from the ground. The sunlight, barely peeking through dark clouds, bounced off her eyes. It made them blink rapidly in protection, but Talia held her chin up despite it. The sun simply made them rest partway-shut, hardly changed at all from when nothing but her own emotions weighed them down.

"Whenever I consider whether to ask you if you are okay," she explained, her voice having not strayed much from the original monotone, "I always look to the same thing— your eyes, Beloved. Eyes, the windows into the soul… and I look at them, their sharpness or their softness, and I realize quite quickly that the answer to my own question is obvious. I realize those eyes tell more truth than any answer would've ever done."

"But what if I cannot see your eyes?" Bruce asked pointedly. "You're turned away from me, Talia."

She considered this point for a moment, and her eyelids lowered even more. The most abrupt motion was certainly her head, though, which tilted to the left in thought. Her tongue did a similar action to what Bruce's had a mere second earlier; licking the insides of her mouth, sweeping it against the bottoms of her sharp teeths until it stung. She clenched her hands tightly, getting tighter each second until they abruptly let go, and simultaneously, she answered.

"Oh, Beloved…" Talia called backwards, thought still not turning her head in the slightest. "I am not you, am I? I am not a mystery. I never have been. A person doesn't need any mythical soul-seeing abilities to read me like an open book. You, at least, shouldn't."

"Hmmph," he grumbled, neglecting to answer further.

"You can tell, can't you?" she asked him. "The answer to your question."

"Per…. haps," he finally spoke.

Now, Bruce took a few steps closer to her, cautiously listening to the sound of his own footsteps. He diffiented the sound of his toe and heel, as if testing the strides before he fully took them. Most of all, he watched Talia's reaction to the sounds; she stayed completely and utterly still the entire time, holding back any natural quivering even just from the general situation. Hence, Bruce continued, doing this for each and every step until he'd reached the position of a mere half-a-foot from her back.

He took a deep breath, and then gushed it out, landing the air waves right on to the back of her neck. The sensation made Talia visibly lurch another few inches away. In return, Bruce stammered backwards, increasingly uncomfortable and self-conscious. In the end, though, he still found himself standing less than half the distance of before.

"Tell me, Talia," he let his voice raise a tint. "If you are such an open book type of person, why must you neglect to answer my simple question? Why do you avoid it?"

She bit her lip. "Surely, being such a quiet, reserved person yourself, you can understand that there are some things which are simply best left unsaid."

Bruce looked over Talia's head and peered off into the distance, his eyes getting wider the more he stared. This went for a few seconds before his eyes swerved backwards, back down to her. He reached over, this time fully, and grabbed the side of her shoulder, nudging her around to look at him. His grasp was very gentle and non-forcing, but it was firm and urging nevertheless.

"If it is best not spoken, then simply allow me to get my answer visually," he requested as he nudged. "I already know the answer from knowing you, but I must read your eyes to know to what extent, if you will allow me to."

Talia nodded, and without hesitation, she twisted her head around until he could see a single one of her eyes. The cheek underneath was absolutely soaked in tears, glossy and damp in appearance. The whites of her eyes were a bright pink, tinted by the redness and swelling of relentless crying. Bruce's lungs fell in his chest the moment he saw all of it; the wet mess of her face absolutely broke his heart, leaving him wide-eyed and wide-mouthed at the situation.

"Talia…"

She fully spun around now, and loudly sighed, letting a million shaky gushes of air out at once. It made her lungs surge up again in a quiet hiccup, which she let out almost instantly after the sigh. The skin near her shoulders was freezing cold to Bruce's touch, as if her body had simply become too exhausted to keep pumping out heat. Similar to the still stance, this aspect was nearly as eerie as touching a surreal ghost. But this ghost heaved undeniably human, imperfect breaths, and let big, lumpy tears roll down her cheeks.

"I'm just a little startled, that's all," she admitted. "A bit shaken up."

"Clearly," Bruce commented.

He now lifted his hand from her shoulder, and rested it on and around her cheek; her skin felt squishy yet slightly rough against his fingers. More tears rolled down it, only for him to gently flick the drops of water away, drying her eyes. This continued for several seconds, with them both sitting in direct eye contact, before another word escaped from either of their lips. It was an empty period of time, but a loving one– even when unnecessary, Bruce rubbed her cheeks softly and soothingly.

"Do you think he'll change his mind?" Talia asked blankly. "Do you think he'll decide he wants me back and…."

Precipitously, her head drooped downward like a dying flower. Bruce's finger kept on her cheek regardless, letting the movement pull his arm lower with the cheek. He couldn't even see the area he was touching anymore, with the sunlight's shadows concealing it from view, but he continued rubbing it to the best of his ability regardless. It seemed to be working, although slowly, to get Talia's trembling body to relax. Her breaths were getting smaller and quieter, even as her stance shrunk in overwhelming timidness.

"Never mind," she said. "I… I can see it in your eyes, Beloved. You know the answer to the question even less than I do. There would be no more truth in that answer than the one to your first question, simply… blind comfort. Telling me whatever I wanted to hear."

He nodded. "I'm… sorry. You're right, I don't know, but if I were to guess… Well, I'd assume it was just a product of rage, and that he will take the words back any minute now."

"There you go," Talia's eyebrows furrowed. "That's your blind, meaningless, comforting answer, isn't it? The one you think I'll be made to feel better by, even if in the long run, my disappointment will eventually sink in if you end up wrong."

For a moment, Bruce froze, caught off-guard. He used his leverage on her cheek to scooch her head upwards, where he could finally look in her eyes once more. She was still crying just as hard as before, and if anything, the speed of her rushing tears had mildly increased. The fragileness of these tears had completely taken over her face at this point, with every single one making her cheeks bones move lower and looser.

Bruce attempted to comfort her anyway. "I admit you're right that I may have been exaggerating my certainty that he'll come around, and it's not like I exactly have a lot of faith in your father with these sorts, but… I will say that I believe it a lot more than the other options or–"

"—And I agree with you on that," Talia interrupted. "But honestly, I just… I don't even know which option I want to hear anymore! I don't know how.. Or why… or… Or, well…. If he takes it back, then will that even be a good thing?"

"I–" he stammered, but failed to find a confident answer.

"Then I'll have a choice to make, Beloved! Another terrible, heart wrenching choice…" she exclaimed, feeling her lips crumple into a deep pout. "He won't just give it as an offer, I'm sure, or take no as an answer if I so choose, either… he'll come begging if he has to. He'll ask that I return so he can live another day knowing his precious daughter still loves him, and I…"

She abruptly pulled her face out of Bruce's clutch and turned it to the right, fully avoiding his fingers. Even from there, though, her head remained tilted downward acutely.

"I can't just look in his so genuinely desperate eyes and tell him no, can I?" she questioned. "I cannot tell my own father that I don't want to be in his life anymore, or even worse, tell him I don't even love him. It'd…. It'd kill him, Beloved. I would kill him."

Talia let Bruce look in her eyes again now, and the sight made him nearly gasp; her eyes were so heavily flushed in tears that he couldn't even see the eyes underneath the heavy glare. Her own vision was intensely blurred, as well, and her nose was incredibly congested. All of her inhales came out as a soft, sad little sniffle, followed by a crumply blubbering sound at the exhale.

"That's not true," he reasoned. "Your father's a master-manipulator. I doubt a single one of those 'desperate' looks are the slightest bit genuine, and even if they were, does it matter? He's a terrible man, a murderer even, who's hurt you tons. You not only can leave him, but frankly, absolutely should."

"That's the thing, Beloved," she argued. "You say he's 'hurt me tons' but I promise you, whatever he's done to me, isn't even comparable to how my leaving would hurt him. He's–"

"No," Bruce shook his head firmly. "It's not comparable, because you aren't hurting him with this at all, Talia."

"Beloved, you… you wouldn't understand."

She wrapped her arms around herself protectively, and now let the entire upper-half of her body fall down and droop with her hanging head. She barely even kept herself standing upwards at this point, with her knees and feet wobbling against the weight of her leaning torso. Bruce had shifted his hands to be placed on her shoulders, but even that did little to stabilize her unsteady body. Strands of dark brown hair blew over onto her face, only making her entire composure look even more messy than it already was; those strands seemed somewhat enchanting as they shimmer in the sunlight, though, same as her sparkly tears.

Suddenly, Talia spun around, shoving Bruce's hands off her in the process. Her boots slapped against the wood floors, and then bounded down the steps until she was entirely off the porch. Now, she ran through the large yard, wet grass brushing at her ankles, until she was a significant distance away from him. Dew drops seeped into her shoes, making her toes curl, but she otherwise ignored the discomforting crawling of water. Her feet nonchalantly kicked the dirt against the ground, pushing those dew drops away.

Bruce was quick to follow her, rushing even faster down the stairs until he skidded to a stop directly in front. She inevitably faltered backwards as she realized this, letting her shoes get pushed even deeper into the dirt surrounding. Her eyes were wide and uneasy, carefully watching his every move. He, on the other hand, stared at one thing and thing only; the metal phone in her hand glimmered brightly, visually guiding his eyes towards it.

"What are you doing?" he asked, a frantic tone plaguing his voice.

"Just sorting things out," she answered, narrowing her eyes in determination and piercing focus. "Making things right."

"What do you mean by that?" He took another small step towards her. "Making things right with what? With who? You seem impulsive, Talia, not thinking straight. Can you please just tell me what–"

"I'm thinking more clearly than ever, Beloved."

She pressed a few buttons of the device, making small tapping sounds, until she'd found the right app. Once on there, it took only a few more taps for her to reach the exact destination. Now, without a hint of reluctance, she flashed the bright white phone screen to Bruce and let him read the bold black contact letters for himself. He squinted through the sun's glare, but eventually, the word dawned on him.

'Father'

There were a few buttons underneath it, but the one her thumb gently rested over was a neon green one, marked by a stylized phone symbol. She had the open, honest kind of confidence to be mistaken as proud of her future actions, but the expression on her face starkly contradicted these ideas. Salty tears continued to sting her skin, to the extent that even her shirt was wet with the furthest-running drips.

"I— I just wish to make things right," she calmly declared, "with him."

"Things are right this way!" Bruce shouted in response. "He's a manipulative, cruel, murderous villain of a man, Talia, who expectedly let you down the moment you weren't helpful to him anymore. Calling him and pleading that you'll be helpful to him again from now on is only going to make things worse!"

"That's not what I'm doing here," Talia debated, lowering her thumb ever so slightly closer to the button. "I'm trying to let my own father know I love him, not become any horrid villain's pawn."

"If you call him, after what just happened between you two, I doubt it'll just be—"

But before he could even finish his sentence, she had pressed the button. A small beep sound ticked the air, and then the dreaded ringing sounds came. Out of mere instincts and no consideration whatsoever, Bruce lunged over and snatched the phone out of Talia's hands, thrusting it on to the ground. Mud splattered over the top of it and the screen instantly blacked out, but to be sure it was demolished, he began to aggressively stomp on it. Crackling noises stuttered out of the breaking screen and inside electronics with each pounding stomp.

"What are you doing?!" she asked accusingly.

"Keeping you on the good side," Bruce said. "You'll thank me later."

Talia's frown was intense, and her arms were tightly crossed over her chest in anger. Her breaths, as well, were less than content; they mimicked the sounds of whistling pots– quick, high-pitched, loud, and aimed directly at him. But even louder than that was her fast heart, anxious and turbulent in its beating. Her eyes kept their vision locked on her phone, watching every bit of energy drain out of its hardware.

Then, she swiftly looked up from it. She stared at Bruce, and in that glare, her tears became ones of pure rage; Talia ran towards him, with her arms thrown backwards in clenched fists, and began to scream at him. Every aggravated word, another few tears coated her face, and her body stumbled just a little more in dire uncertainty. Drops of spit flew out of her mouth alongside those words.

"How am I supposed to contact him now?" she questioned desperately. "For that matter, how is he supposed to contact me when he inevitably takes back what he said and tries to compassionately solve our conflict. He'll think I'm ignoring him, that I simply don't care! He'll think that I wouldn't feel a thing if he's lonely constantly, or weeps everyday missing me, or even kills himself because he can't handle losing ano—"

"I thought you didn't want him to come around either way," Bruce pointed out. "I thought you just wanted to be done with him."

"I do!" Talia cried, and with those words, she felt a severe cramp in her stomach. "But I don't want to fail him, either, and if that means having to even step up and go to him first, instead of waiting for his own apologies, then so be it. We're a family, if I abandon him–"

The cramps got growingly worse the more she thought about this matter, until, with a mashup of possible scenes and options filling her head to its processing brim, she began to feel downright queasy. A clump of vomit rose in her throat, which she promptly swallowed back down, only for it to rise once again. She blew out thick, spiraling breaths to combat the many sickly feelings.

"Talia, this is ridiculous." Bruce reasoned, wandering forward until he was a mere step in front of her. "Why would you care about abandoning one of the most murderous men on the planet? It says nothing about you. Why would you want to even consider going back to that kind of person? Why would you want to–"

"I don't truly want to go back to him, Beloved," she explained, wincing as the nausea only increased. "I just… I just want my father to be alright."

Her clenched fists finally relaxed, and with that action, so did her frown. It was still present, but the lines of it softened immensely into nothing but a small, sad pout. In a sudden surge of overstimulation, her feet fumbled backwards; they slipped loosely in the dusty surroundings, getting caught on stubs of grass on the way. As the nausea completely took over her balance, Talia nearly went tumbling to the ground before Bruce wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back to her feet.

He pecked her cheek tenderly, while keeping his arms tucked around her back. Suddenly, his grip there tightened; his fingers clasped her body up against his in a firm embrace. Talia let him hold her without trouble, much too weary to fight back or continue their argument. In fact, her eyes even began to close comfortably as she rested her head on the top of his shoulder. Bruce now felt trickles of tears spill down his arm, yet he did not do so much as flinch at the water.

The only thing he did was lean over and press his mouth to her ear, whispering a few quiet words.

"...And I just want you to be alright."

[baticorngirl]

Jason sat, silent and almost motionless, on a bright, velvety, royal blue couch. One of his legs was sprawled over the couch’s arm chaotically, while the other one rested on the ends of the cushions below it. His entire torso creased into the fabric diagonally, leaving his head propped against a decorative pillow on the opposite side to his feet.

Jason held a book, tucked between his fingers. His eyes gazed down on it, pupils rocking back and forth with each enticing word. He pulled the book closer to his face until his nose was, quite literally, inside the book. A small, calm, smile dawned his face. Oh, how he loved literature.

But suddenly, Jason’s fast eyes froze. They stared not on the book, but at the room’s entrance. Soft but firm footsteps could be heard right outside, startling Jason from his peaceful joy.

As quick as he could manage, Jason flung his legs up. His torso spun, twisting on the cushions until it was perfectly perpendicular to the couch. He neatly rest his knees right in front of him, and his head popped up into the air as his back straightened into a much more proper position.

But just before he had finished that quick fix-up, the door creaked open. It revealed Ra’s, out of all people, on the other side. Jason cautiously straightened his back up even more.

As Ra’s made his way into the room, the two made eye contact. Slowly and uncomfortably, Jason pulled his book upwards, forcing himself to appear busy. He took a breath, gradually starting to actually read again.

Yet, he noticed Ra’s did not stop his staring. Ra’s quietly huffed, making Jason’s breath stop short. There was judgement in his gaze.

Jason glanced down on himself, attempting to sort out the cause of such disapproval. He wore the average League of Assassins attire, as Talia had given him the clothes several months back. Black clothes with grey and the occasional brown or even gold highlight, just as Ra’s should’ve been happy with.

But Ra’s wasn’t happy. Then again, on behalf of Talia’s “blatant disregard for his authority” that had led to Jason’s current situation, Ra’s never seemed to be happy to see Jason. Oh well. If it came down to it, Jason could just pick up a gun and shoot Ra’s to the ground… if he was willing to handle Talia’s reaction afterwards, that was.

But that was when Jason noticed something;

Ra’s wasn’t looking at Jason, himself. Their eyes didn’t even remotely match up to each other’s gaze. Instead, Ra’s eyes the item propped up between Jason’s hands— his book.

The book had a predominantly red cover, with a dull picture on top of it. The picture covered the whole area, stretching under the words and other labels. A close-up of a statued face, chipped and even slightly blood-covered, was illustrated, showing an discomforting mood overall. Above it, the title read, “Titus Andronicus” in bold dark lettering. But none of that was what Ra’s was fixated on.

Jason gulped. He figured Ra’s would be content -slightly pleased by, even- seeing Jason reading such a classic, complex, and highly-praised story. Generally, he’d found it was younger people that were upset by his natural reading preferences, not old, overly-classy men.

Ra’s’ eyes hardly moved at they focused down on the smaller lettering, though. “William Shakespeare,” it read. The name made him frown intently, and Jason’s eyebrows furrowed in deep puzzlement as to why.

After a second, Ra’s finally got to his original business of entering. His sharp eyes softened as he did so, but didn’t move. He grabbed a book off the shelf, passively resting it under his arm. His eyes still didn’t move as he shifted himself towards the door.

Ra’s loudly grunted, abruptly breaking the silence. Jason, who had slowly started to go back to reading for the second time, popped up from the book, eyes widened.

“Willia- That man,” Ra’s muttered begrudgingly, “That man plagiarized my words. That man stole my beautiful line.” His voice faded with each word, growing even more mumbled under his breath.

Without another word, Ra’s swiftly swung the door open and strutted through it. His eyes bounced away from the book, and back to his natural vision ahead.

From behind, Jason’s mouth dropped, “Huh?” He questioned, uttering the sound as loud as he could to catch Ra’s’ attention. But Ra’s’ neck didn’t spin a single millimeter to look behind.

“Nothing,” He quickly declared, “Talia’s looking for you. You should go to her quarters once you’ve come to a stopping place in your book.”

With one more step, Ra’s was out of view.

Jason scanned over his book, confused. He heard Ra’s continue down hallways, each footstep loud but beginning to get lost in the distance of the huge mansion. He also heard Talia, still quite far away, softly calling his name as she wandered around. But he didn’t get up, not yet. Shock glazed over his curious eyes.

What was that supposed to mean?

[baticorngirl]

Title: Names and Knowledge

Rating: General Audiences Fandom: Batman/DC Relationship(s): Ra's al Ghul & Damian Wayne, Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne, Talia al Ghul & Damian Wayne, Talia al Ghul/Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd & Damian Wayne, Characters: Damian Wayne, Ra's al Ghul, Bruce Wayne, Talia al Ghul, Jason Todd, Alfred Pennyworth,

Summary:

In an alternate earth where Ra's and Bruce's allyship (as appearing in Batman: Son of the Demon) works out, and where he was raised by both their parents with their families at peace, Damian Wayne-Al Ghul --now raised as anything but an assassin-- finds himself with much more mundane kindergarten problems than if he were a child soldier; homework being the prime opponent. At first, the kindergarten-level "fun homework" type questions are easy for him, causing no stress at all, until one much more puzzling question comes up. Despite his usual intelligence, Damian cannot seem to think of what his parents names are. With the paper due tomorrow morning, and fate constantly edging at his back to keep him from getting his much-needed answers, will Damian be able to find an answer before his school-day bedtime gets the best of him? And if so, will the answer he gets truly be worth all his effort?

But most of all, Damian's biggest doubts lie in a completely different question... is 'Beloved' a real name?

Part 1 of 3 (7.5k of 24.2k total words)

<Click here to read it on Ao3 instead>

<Click here to read Chapter 2>

Author's Note:

This fic was... actually supposed to be short, believe it or not, and CERTAINLY not multiple chapters long. Unfortunately, it seems I'm incapable of that. At least you get more content this way! That being said, because this story ended up being so long, most of the characters/relationships aren't actually for this first chapter, but future ones.

Oh, also, Damian calls his father "Baba" in this, which (I think) means "dad" in arabic, and besides, I've seen other fanfics have him call Bruce this too, so you know... it just seemed cute. I don't actually know anything about the arabic language though (just looked this up), so please let me know if I used it incorrectly.

One more thing I'd like to address is Ra's' characterization in this. If you find it odd and need an explanation for the way I portrayed him, please read the following (but if not, you're also welcome to skip it-- I understand it's kind of long):

It's not how I usually portray him (and definitely not how the MAJORITY of fandom does), so it may come off as out of character to some readers. You are completely allowed to prefer a different characterization (as I've already said, this is rare even for me), and feel free to click off due to that, but it IS still supposed to be based off of canon-- just specifically Batman: Son of the Demon's version, which could be considered slightly out of character in itself compared to some other stories. That being said, I do think it's an interesting take, so using it for this one fanfic was actually quite fun writing-wise. Ra's always has a lot of different perfectly-canonical interpretations (some of which ARE similar to Son of the Demon) of his character anyway, so it's only fair to experiment. I also took some inspiration from Ra's' more recent characterization in the Robin series, since it A) went well with Batman: Son of the Demon's interpretation, and B) I just like it.

Anyway, now I'll let you go ahead and read it! Enjoy!

Damian knew a lot of things.

He knew how to spell "cat" and "dog''. He knew how to count to a hundred, and how to write his name in cursive. He knew that the earth orbited the sun. He knew that there were around three-hundred-sixty dog breeds, and that they were all amazing. He knew his family were all criminals, in one way or another, and that he wasn't supposed to tell anyone that. Damian even knew basic addition, too.

He also knew that if there's one thing kids hate, it's homework– in all of its forms.

"Here, children. These papers I'm passing out will serve as the homework for tonight. Be sure to fill every single question out! We'll need them completed for an activity tomorrow." The teacher's voice rang out loud and clear over the kindergarten class of 21 students. Some were shuffling around in their seat, or letting out whispered giggles with a friend nearby, leaving only around half the class truly paying attention to the words, but she didn't bother to repeat herself.

The anticipated groan of those who were listening, loud yet low in tone, did the job for her. In a mix of realization and mere solidarity, everyone quickly joined in on this loud grumble, flopping over in dramatically exaggerated motions of frustration. The sounds only got louder by the second until, for a mere microsecond, it reached the point of almost sounding like the growling of a lion, just before fading out to let the teacher speak once again. Or, more accurately, for them to go back to their shuffling and side conversations as they ignored her.

The teacher rolled her eyes half-heartedly, "Just look at it before you get too upset, please. It's not even academics." She finished a full circle around the class, putting down a copy on the final desk, leaving only one –her own– left in her hands. Her fingers gently patted that copy, pointing to the words written on it. "In fact, I was hoping it could be fun."

As if on cue, all the kindergarteners immediately bobbed their heads down to look at it, a few squinting at the words.

Damian was not squinting, though. Damian read it swiftly. He was seated at the back of the class, in a bright orange child-sized chair that was directly behind a tan-colored desk, which of course was also much shorter than adult height. A fan, which sat only a few feet away from his desk, blew at the corners of his sheet.

He'd always been one of the better readers of his class; Damian had been read many bedtime stories when he was younger, and had been encouraged to give his best attempt at reading every one of them on his own. Besides, he was generally considered naturally gifted at school work. Thus, as he stared down at it, words like 'different,' 'everyday,' 'common,' and even 'passions' stood no match against his curious little green eyes.

"It's a list of questions about you and your families, that's all." The teacher explained, "Nothing to stress about, it shouldn't take too long. Although it's preferred, I don't even ask you to necessarily write in full-length sentences. Just try to answer each question in some way, and ask a parent or sibling for help if you need it. Now, before we start getting ready for dismissal, does anyone have any questions?"

A couple kids raised their hands, both of which got their questions answered in less than a minute. Mostly, they were about what a particular word meant or what they should do if they can't find a specific answer, so Damian stopped paying attention. He began to scan his eyes over the paper, quietly thinking each answer to himself.

"No more questions? Alright then, let's start p–" The loud announcement made Damian's head pop back up. His mouth drifted open, but in a mindlessly aloof manner. It hung there in a blank expression as the teacher glanced at the clock. "Actually, it appears we have some extra time, so why don't you guys get started on the paper? I'll give you, let's see… three minutes? Hopefully by the end of that you kids will have little enough work left to stop your groans."

She let out a small laugh, but then swiftly plopped down on her desk and looked down at her own stack of papers. With a sigh, she began her own much more challenging work.

Clack! Damian grabbed his pencil up from the desk, only to immediately throw its tip directly onto the papers so he could begin writing. It was undeniably basic, with him knowing most answers immediately upon sight of them. Damian smirked. His arm swung left and right, up and down as he wrote each answer down as fast as he could, as if racing to be able to complete it before the time ended.

'What's your (full) first name?'

'Do you have any nicknames?'

'What's your last name(s)?'

'Do you have any siblings? If so, how many?'

It was easy. Other than perhaps a spelling mistake or two, Damian had several questions fully completed by the time the first minute was up. His smirk only grew, pushing at his cheekbones. Damian's eyes narrowed with a sudden burst of determination, and yet again, he sped several questions ahead.

'When is your birthday?'

'What's your favorite song?'

'What's your favorite food?'

'Do you have any pets? If so, what animal(s) are they?'

Damian especially liked this question. He wrote not only in full sentences, but managed to come up with an entire 4 sentences detailing his love for his pets. In fact, as he scribbled in the last couple words, he just barely didn't run out of room on the piece of paper. At this point, the corners of his lips had risen so much he was outright grinning at the thought of such beloved animals.

"My parents' names?" Damian's eyebrows suddenly furrowed, letting the grin get swiftly wiped off of his face. This one, unfortunately, was not as easy. For a split second, he'd almost let his pen drop down and write "Mama" and "Baba" but the unfortunate truth was that he knew, as much as he used them, those were not their names. Not the ones the school was looking for, at least.

He bit his lip. Damian would not settle for an inadequate answer. Specifically, the Son of both the Bat and one of the most intelligent assassins around, would not settle for an inadequate answer. He was not that weak.

His mouth flopped into a pout, unable to recall any other names besides the ones he'd been taught to call them. His mind felt blank.

Damian knew a lot of things, but apparently, he did not know his own parent's names.

Now frustrated, he shook his head furiously before skipping over that question and moving on to the rest of the papers. He could do his figuring once he was home, where surely he'd hear their names said more than enough times to be able to write them down– or his idea of how their names seemed like they should be spelled, at least.

Fortunately for him, or perhaps even unfortunately, depending on how his rushing hands considered it, dismissal came quickly. The teacher hollered out instructions to the clumps of children as they all hurried off to the hooks and cubbies where their belongings were kept. Hands reached over one another, so buried in chaos that from an outsider's perspective, one could never truly tell which hand even belonged to each child. It was messy, to say the least, but as they did every dismissal time, these shoves and grabs sorted out the bags in a timely-enough manner.

Damian quickly slung his backpack over his shoulder. It had little faces dotted all over it, each one the face of a different cartoon-ishly-drawn animal. Although perhaps it was childish or even 'uncool' by a certain kind of person's standards, Damian liked the backpack. Animals were an interesting matter, with each species that was shown on his backpack having its own complex body and genetic makeup. He felt the undeniable sophistication and maturity of the scientists that discovered those things lay upon his back as he walked through the halls and out to the front door.

He was smiling again as he went. His swift legs carried him to the front of the clump, arms swirling about with a sense of confident eagerness. As they reached the doors and the windows nearby, his eyes were the first to peer out and get a good glance at the crowds of parents parked outside, all waiting to pick up a child or two. Even in those mere seconds he could look, his eyes immediately scanned the area for his own family, searching for a parent, Alfred, or even a limo to show they were out there.

Damian couldn't seem to find anything, especially before the impatient students behind him quickly nudged him forward and out through the door.

Outside, Damian scanned again. Nothing. He frowned. They normally got here on time, or even early. His eyebrows furrowed in a way that almost imitated his detective of a father, evaluating which one would be more likely to be late. His father had Batman duties that jumped up at even the most random or uncoordinated times, so perhaps it was him. His eyes then opened wide with delight at that thought. Surely, if it was his father that had come to pick him up, he'd figure out his name soon based on what his 'Dad friends' called him, and possibly figure out what his mother's name was, too, if she came up in their conversation. It was a good plan, assuming his inherited detective skills were not wrong.

Suddenly, interrupting Damian's train of thought, an arm reached around him and grabbed his whole body up from the ground. His mouth dropped open in surprise, speechless as someone squished him up against themself and patted his back with a firm grip.

It was not Talia. Her arms were not this big, and judging by how far up from the ground he'd gotten picked up, Damian doubted she was this tall, either. It was not Bruce, either, for his pick-up style was always much more passive, yet also swifter than this. It was also not Alfred, who wouldn't have picked him up without giving a formal greeting.

Damian twisted his head upwards to look at this unknown person. He blinked at the man, more than startled.

The Demon's Head. Ra's Al Ghul. A Demon in every right, and one worth legends. A murderer, but also a conquerer. Someone to be feared by every inch of one's mind and body, and someone to give up on all hope of survival once he determines you his enemy. In fact, once you even see the sight of such a sinister and powerful figure, you shall give up most of that hope already. The Head of the Demon, in all his glory, stared down at Damian with quiet eyes.

Ra's smiled, "How was school? I hope you paid attention to every little detail, as knowledge is p–" Abruptly, he cut himself off and frowned. "Damian, you look a little shaken, did you forget I was picking you up today?"

The Head of the Demon…. Otherwise known as Damian's grandpa.

"My parents never told me about it," Damian replied. He looked downwards, awkward in the carrying position Ra's was holding him in. He shifted slightly, subtly fidgeting. "Are you sure you're even allowed to pick me up? I thought you were a very dangerous, heavily-searched-for criminal!"

"Shhhh. First of all, there's no need to announce it in front of all these protective parents… Second of all, just because the authorities hate me doesn't mean they necessarily know who it is they're attempting to take captive." Ra's shrugged, "Your parents have probably already emailed your teachers that your grandparents were picking you up today, assuming even that much is necessary, so no one will suspect a thing. I keep my profile low enough that the world will recognize me by nothing but possibly my name, and even then, those legends only circulate in certain areas. There's no reason I'm more incapable of picking you up than Mr. Pennyworth. Don't worry about it."

"Oh," Damian's eyes squinted in quiet thoughtfulness. He bit his lip. "But what if you do get recognized? My parents told me that the police will try to chase you then! That doesn't seem worth picking me up for."

"Seriously, Damian. You have no reason to be concerned in the slightest." Ra's' mouth rested in a slight frown, but one that did not curl downwards, instead making a harsh straight line between his lips. "If worst comes to worst, it's astonishing what the fear factor can do on an exhausted teacher."

"Oh," Damian repeated. This time, he stayed silent in his thoughtfulness.

"Your parents just needed a break, Damian," His grandfather continued to explain. To Damian's delight, he slowly began to lower Damian to the ground, switching from picking him up to simply holding his small hand. "Besides, I was more than happy to spend some time with my grandson, and have some quality time to advise him before he gets too far in life for the advice to help…. That's the job of grandparents, isn't it?"

Damian shrugged, but then nodded, "But it's also to spoil us. You don't have a drop of candy in your house, do you? That needs to change." He let out a quiet, mischievous giggle.

"Unfortunately, that would go against the advice I'm trying to guide you with," Ra's' mouth creased into an even more distinct frown. He began to lead Damian away from the school and towards the parking lot, head high in the air where Damian couldn't even catch a glimpse of his eyes anymore. "We're going to need to allow someone else to pick up that duty, instead."

"You're failing in your duties, Grandfather?" Damian giggled again, "That's sad."

To his dismay, he got no answer, but rather was simply pulled along at an increasingly rapid pace towards the neat arrays of colorful cars in front of them in silence.

After a brief minute of this, Ra's spoke again, "I know what you're really wondering. How did I convince your father to allow me to take care of you without his supervision, especially for such a long period of time?" His frown quickly faded with the change of subject.

Damian felt his grandfather squeeze his hand as they crossed the street. Both their shoes made thumping sounds against the bumpy gravel, bouncing over bold, thick white lines. At this point, they'd made it past the parking lot, and over to the sidewalks on the streets nearby. Damian looked left and right unsurely as Ra's tugged his hand around each bend or turn in their steps. When he glanced backwards, his school was getting increasingly smaller in the distance.

"He's unbelievably protective of you, Damian. I'm your grandfather, so you'd think he'd trust me to protect you if danger arose, but –as the whole kilometer-long list he gave me would prove– that's clearly not the case." Ra's' eyebrows in subtle amusement, "It's as if he doesn't even realize that I took care of your mother constantly when she was a child! If I'm capable of raising a child, you would think I could be trusted with one for a mere afternoon! …Although your father is an intelligent man, sometimes he really can be quite unnecessarily paranoid."

Damian's eyes squinted in the bright sunlight, getting only more confused when Ra's led him around another corner and down another road. Now, he couldn't see even the tiniest glimpse of his school in the distance, with both buildings and the space between them and the school getting in the way. He frowned. Ra's brought him to another crosswalk, pulling him over it the moment the traffic cleared.

"As a matter of fact, one of those rules was to always hold your hand at crosswalks,"

"Wait, you both read and listened to the rules my father gave you?" Damian's eyes opened wide in surprise, "That's new. I thought your goal was to advise me, and generally your advice includes taking risks and regaining courage so you can not be afraid to get world domi– world domina…. World taking-over."

"Oh, no. Although I respect him, those rules are too much to be respected," Ra's replied, immediately shaking his head side to side in a rapid motion. "I did no more than glance over the list –which by the way, you will not be telling him– and happened to notice that one, mostly because it seemed so utterly ridiculous that I had to take a moment to let out a chuckle about it to myself. In fact—"

Without a moment's warning, Ra's ripped his hand away from Damian, who's eyes then opened even wider.

"—Surely you can handle following me across the road on your own, no?"

Damian stood there, blinking with a shocked expression plaguing his face, without moving another inch. He looked around himself, searching for some kind of reason for Ra's' sudden departure. He spun around in a full circle, only to see Ra's even further ahead of him, beginning to leave him behind. Fortunately, Damian finally followed, frantically running to catch up.

"See? I'm telling you, he's completely underestimating not only my ability, but yours, as well. If I were you, I'd be offended by the assumed incompetence." Once Damian caught up, Ra's looked down at the child, pure frustration in his gaze. "Please, don't make his mistakes. Don't underestimate your enemies, but also do not underestimate your family and friends. They're capable of a lot, as well, both to your benefit and to your demise. You must be aware."

Still a bit confused, Damian softly shrugged.

Soon, they arrived at a fancy car, big and luxurious like Bruce's limousines but with even more complex, old-fashioned details. It made a gentle vrooming sound as they sped off, over to a League of Assassins hideout placed just outside Gotham's borders. Damian uncomfortably laid his backpack next to him. His eyes bounced around the new vehicle, taking in its uncommon and abstract yet undeniably impressive features. He fidgeted in his seat with excitement and intrigue.

Once they got to the hideout, Ra's immediately ushered Damian to a table for some afternoon tea.

"As I was saying way before, when we got so quickly interrupted with your confusion, did you learn anything of interest while you were at your education institution?"

Damian and Ra's were seated in one of the courtyards, letting a soft breeze tickle at their backs as they sipped their tea. The sun glared down on them, bouncing on the rims of the cups, teapot, and sugar bowl, shimmering on their reflective, glassy surface. The table underneath the dishes glinted a bit as well. It wasn't a very large table, with the ability to seat only maybe one more person before they ran out of room, but for two people drinking nothing but tea, it served its purpose fine. Damian leaned back on his chair, feeling the rough fabric of the backpack strap, which he hadn't had a chance to do more than casually hang on his chair, itching at his back. Meanwhile, Ra's sat up straight with a much crisper, neater appearance than the child.

Damian thought about his grandfather's question for a moment, "No….Well, they taught us about penguins and how they protect and warm their eggs before hatching, but nothing you'd find to be of interest." He ended up shaking his head, slow but certain, just before quietly snorting and letting out a soft chuckle. "You would've hated it! They didn't even say a single thing about the meaning of life at all!"

"I didn't say I was expecting them to," Ra's replied monotonously. He didn't return Damian's upbeat laughter in the slightest. "It is their duty to teach you the basics of the world– the concrete, hard facts. But the meaning of life? That's my job to teach you."

A smile did begin to creep out with the last line, drastically contrasting his previous lack of emotion.

"And your job…. To learn and discover for yourself, Damian."

He pushed himself up from his seat to lean in closer to Damian. His hand, firm in its movements, reached over to pet the soft hair that stuck up from Damian's head. He ruffled it up playfully, letting his smile quickly increase. Ra's' eyes stared into Damian's, much more upbeat but still sincere in every word he spoke.

"It's your life. You decide the meaning, not those teachers. You can decide it based on their concrete facts, if it is what pleases you, but you can also base it off of the facts you find in your own experiences, as you're out there finding yourself." He jolted his chin downward, almost as if he was mimicking half a nod to settle the statements into Damian's head. "All that matters is that you must give your life meaning, and you must make an impact… For not only yourself, and for the sake of proving yourself worthy of the privilege of life, but for proving yourself worthy of the legacy your family passes down to you, and the privilege of that. You must make every minute worth something, Damian. You cannot settle for less than your full potential and you cannot be any less than fully ambitious, for no other reason than that you can. You must be powerful, because whatever do you get from being less than such? That…. Those intricate meanings and ways to see past simple choices– they are my job to teach you. Perhaps it is not my business to decide what defines you, but I will guide you on the right path to prove yourself in the most honorable ways. I am your elder, therefore I have wisdom I shall pass down to you. Do you understand?"

Damian nodded, but as Ra's continued prattling on and on about every little detail of what the meaning of life meant and what it means to find your own meaning, all of which meant just about nothing to a five-year-old, he stopped paying the slightest bit of attention. Ra's' 'wisdom' got boring quickly. He tapped his fingers on the table and let his eyes wander away from Ra's in exasperated boredom.

Suddenly, his back felt the backpack strap again. Damian's eyes lit up with a realization; he still had his backpack, right there and handy to grab.

In a single swift motion, Damian grabbed the backpack right off the back of his chair and into his lap. Damian carelessly flung the zipper to the opposite side and tugged out his homework papers, sticking his tongue out in speedy focus. He pulled out a pencil, as well, and immediately continued writing down answers. Ra's titled his head at the sudden action, but, to Damian's delight, was too deep into the spirit of his speech to bother doing any more.

As Ra's went on and on, getting just the slightest bit louder in hopes it would make Damian pay attention to his 'important advice,' Damian kept working on his homework and paying absolutely no attention. But Ra's still thought he was, if only a little, so Damian reached the end of his homework questions on what was probably only the sixth paragraph of the 10-page-long meaning of life essay Ra's had mentally constructed. He frowned. This meant he might have to start listening to his grandfather again.

Then Damian remembered about the question he'd been forced to skip.

He flipped back to that page, purposely making more noise with the papers than necessary to drown Ra's out. He narrowed his eyes at it, then glanced back at Ra's. He likely wouldn't get a chance to see his parents, or hear what people called them, until much too late in the day. Damian's eyes bounced back and forth rapidly. Ra's was not a preferred person to ask. He was too serious about these things, and not casual enough to shrug a question off, but also too casual with his conversation-starting to give a swift answer. But, nevertheless, there wasn't exactly anyone else to ask, so he gulped down his doubts and opened his mouth.

"...of which Talia showed in many ways, including her achievements as one of my most trusted assassins, and when conflicts came, proved herself even a relatively worthy enemy. If that is her life choice, then…"

Damian, who had just then leaned forward to Ra's to speak, started listening to a small section of his grandfather's rambling. He suddenly smirked. As if meant to be, he'd managed to overhear what was clearly his mother's name in just that fragment.

'Talia.'

He scribbled it down as quickly as he could before going right back to listening. Ra's wasn't mentioning his father's name at all. Spit welled at the back of his throat, which he quickly swallowed and opened his mouth for a second time. He would not be as lucky with his father as with his mother, it was clear.

"...illustrates the importance of earth in all our lives, therefore embarking the mea–"

"What's my father's name?" Damian blurted out, cutting Ra's off mid-sentence.

Ra's' eyes opened wide, blinking in surprise. His eyebrows furrowed and tilted downward, as if attempting to sort out the reasoning behind Damian's sudden question, and what, exactly, his father's name had to do with the meaning of life. Did he seriously think 'Batman' was the meaning of life? Ra's' mouth gaped open.

"I– I was given this homework sheet, you see. His name is, um… needed." Damian's cheeks turned red as the slightest bit more self-awareness made it into his mind. He looked downward at the paper. "But I'm afraid I've forgotten his exact name, so if you could–"

Ra's still had one more question, which he swiftly interrupted with, "Damian…. You– You don't know your own father's name?"

Damian's cheeks, already so flushed with embarrassment, got even more red.

"How old are you again, my boy?" Ra's began to let out a stifled laugh at Damian. "I thought you had already matured from toddler age."

"Five years old," In some desperate attempt to impress his grandfather out of laughing, Damian puffed his chest out with forced confidence. He crossed his arms and lifted his chin up high. "But, in my 'education institution' we recently did the complex figuring of our age by a different measurement. Months, to be specific. I easily cal– calcul… calculated that my age was, um, 66 months. 12 months in a year, they told us, so with the time since my birthday, that's what it obviously added up to."

"Ah, I see," Ra's' laugh faded, but his amusement did not, "That's good. They're teaching you basic common sense."

Damian frowned, letting his confident pose quickly slip away from him. He popped his mouth open again, only to close it after another second. He looked downwards, unsure what to say. Ra's paused in his chatting, as well, but only for a moment. As Damian's cheeks returned to their embarrassed redness, he began to speak in a slightly less patronizing tone. His eyes looked so upwards that they didn't quite look at Damian, but looked right over the short child's head.

"I say that with the utmost sarcasm, of course. Not that I expect you to be able to fully recognize sarcasm at such an inexperienced age." Ra's' head tilted to one side, but then, in a quite abrupt motion, switched to the other. "But, in all reality, it is very much a good thing that they are teaching you common sense. I expect you to graduate, hopefully quite soon, to more complex subjects like science and literature of those wiser than you so you can get an uncommon sense of the world, beyond those around you– yet common sense is still undoubtedly important. It is the baseline of all sense, truly. It is where you start. First, you are saying the amount of months old, then the days old, then the maturity and brain stages on a scientific level. It's all connected, and hence, it's always good to be learning common sense. It will always come in handy, in everything, so in some ways, it may be superior to even the–"

Throughout Ra's' second speech of the day, Damian's body language quickly faded in its nerves. Instead of hunching over, he looked back up at Ra's with once-again eager eyes. With a gentle thwap, Damian slapped the side of the table as a sudden burst of assertiveness came rushing in. He crossed his arms neatly over his chest before repeating his original question, this time much louder.

"Yes yes, of course, but more importantly," His hand hit the table once again, "What is my father's name? I suffered this cruel humiliation, all to not even get my question answered?"

"Cruel humiliation?" Ra's cocked an eyebrow at Damian, "That's a strong word for a few teasing sentences, Young Boy. I'd like to believe you're only being sarcastic or making a subtle joke, but if you really do view that as humiliation or even cruelty, I can respect a fellow man's internal suffering. After all, you were quite… courageous asking such a meaningless question. It's always important that–"

"Just. Answer. The. Question." Damian's mouth flopped into the biggest pout he'd done all day.

"Of course. I apologize, Grandson," Ra's swiftly nodded, but he paused in his speech immediately after. Damian tapped his fingers against the table as aggressively and loudly as he could to express his pure frustration, all while watching Ra's calmly pick up his teacup, press it slowly to his mouth, only to take even longer lowering it back down. "The detective's name is–"

Just as Ra's was finally beginning to say it, Damian jumped up from his seat, "Oh, wait! Of course! 'The detective!' You're always calling him that. No wonder you believed me to be foolish before. It's so obvious that 'the detective' is my father's name. I apologize for ever making a fool out of myself by not realizing it before."

He grabbed his pencil, shoving it down hard onto the paper before aggressively scribbling down the words as fast as his fingers could possibly manage. His mouth curled upwards on one side in a pleasant smirk, completely unaware of the look his grandfather's own face was quickly spiraling into. Ra's leaned over, pressing his forehead to his palm in a facepalm, all with exhausted limbs.

"My god," He muttered, letting a breath huff out of his nose loudly, "You're hopeless."

"What do you mean?" Damian had just finished writing the words down, and was beginning to lift his eyes back up. He had finally noticed Ra's' reaction to the whole name assumption, and despite his earlier confidence, was less than pleased. "I just figured out the name, all on my own. Aren't you proud?"

Ra's sighed, "The 'Detective' is not a name, and if it were, your father would be made fun of to a torturous level. It's just a nickname, Damian. It's quite obviously just a nickname… or a title, really. Something I call him out of honor and respect, to signify our relationship as equals. Just like how your mother and father will sometimes call you things like 'sweetheart' or other terms of endearment, 'Detective' is a term of, well… respect."

"Oh…" The excitement immediately fell out of Damian's eyes. For a moment, his body language portrayed passiveness, just before getting abruptly more aggressive. He scoffed, "Well how was I supposed to know that?"

"Perhaps the fact that it's just a word? It's not even something like 'violet'. I doubt there's one person in the whole world named 'Detective'. Nobody is that insane." Ra's held out his hands out in slow but expressive gestures, rolling his palms up as if showing Damian imaginary physical objects in the air.

Damian scoffed repeatedly a couple more times, but didn't say another word. He slowly began to erase 'the detective' from his homework answer.

"Now, since you wanted so badly to know what his actually name is, it's B–"

Boom! Just as Damian was writing down a B at the mere glimpse of the sound, a giant noise cut off their conversation. Out of instinct, both Damian and Ra's threw their hands over their ears, expecting another boom, which unfortunately did follow. Ra's' eyebrows furrowed with concern. He quickly got up to deal with the matter, completely forgetting the previous topic.

"Get under the table, Damian. I haven't had a chance to teach you any defense skills yet, so if this situation is as bad as it sounds, you could be in real danger if anyone too bad were to find you. I don't want to see you get hurt. For your sake, and for mine… but also for the sake of not having to break the news to your poor parents."

Then, without another word, Ra's grabbed a sword out from his belt and sprinted away.

Damian stood in shock for a moment, but as soon as he recovered, he quietly began to pull himself underneath the table as demanded. He was not used to being in these kinds of situations, even with the dangerous parents he had, so his body was a bit shaky as he did so. Fortunately, nothing happened while he waited for Ra's to return.

Apparently, it hadn't even been quite as bad as it sounded. Ra's had later explained the situation as he calmly reached his hand out to Damian to help him out from under the furniture. There were simply several very noisy accidents at the weapon-holding centers, and no dangerous intruders at all.

"The accident involved several grenades going off at the same time, due to some issues with them A) having the pins put in improperly when they were first made, and B) having some incorrect stacking on part of the transporters." Ra's had said in a smooth monotone, "An entire pile in the storage wing went down and exploded. Obviously, that does pose a certain level of danger, but not to fear– there were very few people nearby when the incident arose, and even those who were, got lucky. The doctors have assured that all injuries of theirs are not permanent in the slightest."

Ra's still didn't finish answering the previous question, though, as the entire ruckus had immediately sprung his brain far elsewhere.

"It's… a pity that you were so helpless you had to hide under furniture like a mere civilian, Damian." He tapped a finger against his chin and rubbed it in deep thought. He spoke slowly and carefully with each rebellious word. "If I let you train with a gun here, and your father found it, he'd kill me, and I wish I were exaggerating even in the slightest. But a sword? Oh, I think he'll survive, as long as we're nice and careful. You'll be careful, won't you, Damian? Can you keep a secret for your grandfather?"

A glint of sparkling mischievous joy glimmered from the corner of Damian's pupils. He could figure out his homework later, when he wasn't being given the chance to turn into a real-life ninja. He immediately nodded.

They spent the rest of the afternoon not just starting the beginner training of the sword and hand-to-hand combat (the tiniest bit of the latter, Ra's was happy to discover, Damian already knew), but also breaking nearly every other rule on Bruce's list. Although Ra's didn't train him in it, he showed Damian his favorite gun with a smile on his face, and then took him to talk to all sorts of dangerous assassins before leading Damian over to the Lazarus Pit room for a quick peek at the majestic liquid.

All of these things, Damian was fascinated by. The time passed quickly– even quicker than he would've hoped, as a matter of fact. Before he knew it, it was after dinner and he was already leaving to go back home.

As Damian was on the car ride back, with his backpack by his side for the second time, he realized something. His homework was still in there, unfinished. In all this madness, he'd forgotten about the previous question obnoxiously quickly.

Damian knew a lot of things, but he still did not know his own father's name.

His heartbeat quickened in his chest, beginning to thump in his ear. Damian's eyes popped wide open in a dreadful startle. He started to kick his feet back and forth, quicker and quicker while he processed the severity of his issue, all of which he could've solved earlier by simply reminding his grandfather. Now, when he considered the time his parents would be making him go to bed, he realized something bad; there was less than two hours left.

Frantically, Damian looked over to his grandfather, getting ready to ask him for a second time. After the tormenting humiliation of even asking such a dumb question once, he surely couldn't mentally bear another person knowing of his forgetfulness. He had to ask now, or never.

"Grandfather, you never told me what his name was," Damian's tone sped up with his nervous breaths, "You know. Baba's."

"Hurry up!" Hardly listening, Ra's shoved Damian towards the door. He swung his arm around Damian, opening the door in front of him, only to pick the child straight up and plop him down outside the vehicle. Damian's mouth opened wide with confusion and surprise as Ra's put his fingers back into the door's handle, already ready to close it and leave Damian there, but not before he said one last piece of explanation. "Go, Damian! Run in there! It's over ten minutes past the time that I promised to give you back, and for all your parents know, I dropped you off earlier only for them to not notice you until n–"

"But my question!" Damian frantically interrupted, "As I've already said, I've been tormented by your mocking, only to not receive an answer. Do you really want me to have to be tormented for the second time, asking my parents?!"

"You don't have to admit your lack of knowledge fully if you are so set on it, Damian. All you must do is be observant. As I've already said, you can ask the 'teachers' of your life for the concrete facts, or you can discover them for yourself." Ra's advised. His jaw sprung up and down, as did his tongue, in a rapid motion. Every word came out in the quickest manner his mouth could do, not thinking about the statements at all. "Just…. Watch what your mother calls him."

Immediately after finishing saying this, Ra's slammed the door shut on Damian. The driver, perfectly on cue, took less than a second to slam down on the gas pedal and tug the car straight out of there. Ra's picked his hand up, pushing it close to the window as he quickly waved at Damian, all while the vehicle gradually pulled him farther and farther away.

Unaccepting of this type of a farewell, Damian followed the car's path. He reached his arm straight out in some desperate attempt to stop it. His short legs scrambled over each big, rushed step, going as fast as he could with his run while also losing the car at a terribly quick rate.

"But in the time you were saying that, you could've just told me his actual name!" Damian reasoned between his panicked breaths, "It would've only taken a second…. Or two, I'm not sure how long his name is, but would that not have been easier than giving me that long explanation of your advice? It would've saved you some time, at least, unless he's got the longest name in the entire world!"

Did he have the largest name in the entire world?

Suddenly, Damian was very unsure. He blinked, attempting to process the puzzling idea.

Unfortunately for him, though, Ra's didn't hear a single word of his pleas. The vehicle was already far, far ahead at this point– much too far away to hear one small boy's frantic cries for help.

Damian slid to a stop, letting his sneakers make a loud squealing noise at the sudden loss of movement. His chest, which earlier he had puffed out with such confidence, could do nothing but sorrowfully cave deep into his body with each wailing cascade of rapid breaths. The exhaustion suddenly kicked in, making him lean forward as he caught his breath. His eyes still kept their gaze upwards to the fullest extent, though, and they stayed glued on to the dark vehicle that was making its way up the next road out from the house.

He managed to pull out a few more steps in front of him, only to see the vehicle become smaller and smaller in the distance.

With the evening mist swarming in to cover its tail, the car faded off into the distance, and as the dark paint of it seemed to glimmer just one last time only to disappear completely, so did Damian's hope.

Bam! His knees promptly hit the ground, right as his lips began to silently quiver. The feeling of rough gravel scraped at his lower legs, even through his pants. His head hung, letting the weight of his pressing struggle push at his back.

Damian knew a lot of things, and one of them was that he couldn't possibly admit to his parents that he didn't know their names. No matter what, he had to find another way.

As he sat there, on the cold, uneven ground, he considered that thought. He considered his grandfather's rushed suggestions, and he considered the thoughts of his parents and siblings, all of which were right inside the manor's fancy blue door, which he also considered. His pants were getting dirty and dusty from this position, as were his hands, but Damian did not move. Not even when he considered the long bath his parents would surely make him take if they saw him like this, and how boring that would be –possibly even more boring than Ra's' old voice– for him once he returned back inside. He considered the rubber duckies, too, which hardly made it any better for him. He rolled his eyes for a second, but then thought back to his father's name again, and his eyes softened. Although a bit gloomy in the sky, it wasn't actually storming, but Damian was pretty sure he heard some thunder boom in the distance at his utter misery. That misery being, of course, having to take a bath… and, of course –as his distracted mind had to quickly remind himself– losing his dignity over the horribly forgotten name.

It suddenly occurred to him that perhaps sitting on the ground and getting dirty, instead of observing his parents' discussions for clues, probably wasn't helpful.

He pouted, wanting to wait longer for some actual lightning so he could let the power of it wrestle through him dramatically like his father did at night. It was so unfair, how only adults got to do those stuff, sometimes even at midnight, while he just had to sleep through it. But, nonetheless, he slowly pushed himself up.

Damian kicked pebbles on the ground as he made his way over to the door. He plotted each foot heavily, still deep in his melancholy. Dawdling, lingering, or even loitering on his own family's property. The air was still. He felt no rush anymore, no pounding in his chest to get the answer he wanted, even as the time until bedtime was quickly running out behind him. There had been a very light sprinkle of rain an hour before, leaving puddles surrounding Damian, but he was so quiet that he resisted the urge to even splash in those.

His heartbeat was completely and utterly calm…. Until it wasn't.

All his 'symbolic' dramatic sadness and movie-style defeated-hero poses (which he, of course, had been making for several minutes now) were quickly thrown out the window, leaving just his average five-year-old life, when he saw his parents swing the door open. They paraded out to greet him, and in unison, both their arms wrapped around him in embarrassingly affection hugs.

Despite this, Damian was grateful for their interruptions. It meant he was back to his mission, back to his clean focus of achieving his goal. He was not giving up.

He would never give up, no– Damian was an achiever, not a quitter. Specifically, the Son of both the Bat and one of the most intelligent assassins around, was an achiever, not a quitter. Just like how he was not weak enough to settle for an inadequate answer, he was certainly not weak enough to fail to get any answer at all.

Damian quickly checked his watch, reading it with a focused, ambitious gaze too strong to let the worrisome numbers scare him.

He had to find his father's name, double check it for accuracy to make sure it wasn't just as inadequate as 'Baba', and then write it down with a decent-enough spelling that night, before he went to bed….

….All in the 1 hour and 34 minutes he had left.

Damian gulped.

Ending Author's Note:

Even though he's the currently the main adult here, I do not condone Ra's' actions/attitude or think anyone should repeat them in real life. First of all, I do not believe in his definition of the meaning of life. Although my own perspective is similar, I actually believe that what he says about "proving yourself worthy of the privilege of life" is quite harmful. Life is a right, not a privilege, and it's your life to do what you please with it. You should not have to prove yourself "worthy" to anyone, including your family and everyone else in your life, blah blah blah...

Okay so basically, don't trust this fanfic to know the meaning of life.

I also do not condone him letting a five-year-old cross the road without holding his hand. Oh, and there's also the fact that he's an assassin... don't murder people either, kids!

[baticorngirl]

Title: “Dad, you’re embarrassing me!’

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Relationship(s): Talia Al Ghul/Bruce Wayne (Brutalia), Talia Al Ghul & Ra’s Al Ghul, Bruce Wayne & Ra’s Al Ghul, Dusan Al Ghul & Ra’s Al Ghul, Nyssa Raatko & Ra’s Al Ghul, Talia Al Ghul & Dusan Al Ghul,

Characters: Talia Al Ghul, Bruce Wayne, Ra’s Al Ghul, Nyssa Raatko, Dusan Al Ghul,

Summary: Bruce Wayne, an average (other than his parent's death) billionaire, was nervous. Very, very, nervous. It was a simple task, really, but meeting his girlfriend's family seemed rather intimidating at the moment. She has mentioned her father being strict or whatnot many times, and it had gotten many worries to arrive in his mind.

Unfortunately, Bruce had every right to be worried.

A/N: I don't own the characters, DC does.

This fic was originally made (or at least started) for @brutalia-week​ Day 4: Family. Since I wasn't able to finished it in time, I tried to make it a "day 8" kind of thing.... although I'm a teeny bit late for that, too, lol. It was originally just supposed to be a short humor fanfic, but... let's just say it got out of hand. Fair warning that some of the characters may be a teeny bit OOC (nothing too bad, though) because of humor or just plot-convenience.

For context, this takes place in an alternate universe where Bruce doesn't become Batman, but that's the only big difference. Anyway, enjoy!

Related Links: Read it on FF.Net (x), Read it on Ao3(x),

Day 1(x), Day 2(x), Day 3(x), Day 5(x), Day 6(x), Day 7(x),

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Bruce was uncomfortable. His tie felt itchy, and hot, like a fever that somehow didn't spread to his forehead. In fact, his whole body felt hot, and the tiniest bit shaky. Bruce's stomach twisted up in a knot, making his face turn visibly red with discomfort. His breathing was a bit quicker and shorter than normal. He was nervous. Very, very, nervous. But considering the situation, he had every right to be.

Talia and him had been dating for quite a while now. Over 6 months, actually. They met up when they could, and every time they went on a date, they started enjoying each other's company more, and more, and more. Talia often had things she needed to do, though, and they would often come up out of what seemed to be nowhere. She'd always say she just had an assignment from work of some kind, but it often occurred to Bruce that she never mentioned what she did as a profession.

Perhaps, today would be the day he found out. Now that their relationship was feeling more serious, Talia had finally decided she would introduce her boyfriend to her parents, and the rest of her family. It had taken some convincing for her to do it, but her father had been adamant that meeting and evaluating any of her potential husbands was necessary.

"What if they're not worthy?" He had insisted, pacing back and forth in urgency. "What if they plan to spy on you, or hurt you, or are simply a failure? Besides, my Dear Daughter, what's the issue with him meeting us? Please, tell me you're not seriously acting embarrassed of your own family at this age." Ra's stopped to look at her, a disappointed look on his face.

"I-" Talia hadn't wanted to upset him, or even worse, make her view her as immature. She sighed, "Fine, but please…. try to stay calm with him. Be understanding if he's not quite up to your qualifications of worthy, and…. Just try not to kill him, okay? You can be very overwhelming, and although he's a very nice man, he's not used to murderers." She had tried to put it lightly, but truthfully, she wanted to yell the list of commands in his face. It was ridiculous -absolute ludicrous- that she had to tell him such simple things.

"Of course, Daughter. Whatever makes you most comfortable." Ra's smiled at her, and leaned in to kiss the top of her head affectionately. Yet again, she was reminded by why she had spared his feelings, but quickly forgot it as he spoke again. "But you can't truly expect me to hide my whole personality, can you? I'll try to make sure there's minimal stabbing at the family dinner that night, but you can only expect so much of me."

Talia had stared at him, with her eyes squinted with concern, but she pushed a smile on her face regardless. "J- Just do your best, Father. Thank you." The minute she had gotten out of the room, though, her smile immediately dropped. She let out a huge, tired, sigh. She loved her family, but sometimes she just wished they could hold their murderous instincts in for a moment.

Now, as her and Bruce inched towards the door, Talia felt that wish more than she ever had before. Even if Bruce was nervous, thinking of the times Talia had mentioned her Father being strict, controlling, and painfully traditional, he was nothing compared to Talia. She flinched every few moments. Her every instinct told her to lead Bruce away, to come up with an excuse, but it was too late now. She gulped. Maybe, if she had the best luck in the world, her father would only talk about his Endangered-Species-Saving Programs, and not his Murder-Most-Humans program.

But when Bruce looked down at her, he felt a sense of excitement. He surely hadn't heard the best things from Talia about her family, but if they have raised someone as wonderful as Talia, he was sure they couldn't be too bad. He knew they may not have the most similarities, but wasn't caring about Talia the most important similarity of all?

Despite his slight optimism, inside the Al Ghul house, not everyone was on their best behavior. Screams echoed through the dining room as everyone got settled down. Nyssa and Ra's, specifically, were the ones having the heated argument. Heated arguments were not uncommon for them, so much that no one had any clue why she was even invited to the family dinners. She didn't even consider herself part of that family, but Ra's was convinced that it was such a special moment, no one could miss it. His little girl has her first boyfriend! Inevitably, he lived to regret this decision.

"You're a dirty excuse for a father, Ra's! You left me to fend for myself when I needed you most!" Nyssa yelled, standing up from her chair. Her breath was heavy with rage. "You should be ashamed of yourself!" She quickly picked up her fork, throwing it as hard as she could in Ra's' face.

"No, you should be ashamed of yourself! You're the one that betrayed me, before I had done a thing to you!" Ra's screamed back, throwing the fork aside. Fortunately for Ra's, the fork hadn't done any damage. He quickly pulled himself out of his seat to balance the dominance in their positions. "Everything that happened was your own fault, so stop pushing the blame on to me just because I blatantly decided you weren't worth saving from torture!" Unaware of how bad that sounded, he picked up the fork again and threw it back at her.

They continued throwing things at each other, screaming endlessly. The danger of the things thrown escalated as they went. At first it was simply things like forks and spoons, things that wouldn't do too much damage. But it started getting worse, and worse…..

Outside, at least Bruce was getting some kind of a warning. Talia stopped him just before he opened the door, turning him to face her. She stared at him, a glint of dead seriousness in her eyes.

"Beloved, you are not ready to meet my family. You never will be. They're a lot to deal with." She warned. Talia's hands gripped his shoulders even harder than a villain does when threatening a hero. "Every single one of my family members is weird. Very, very weird. A bit absurd, even. Albeit a nice guy, you're also only a simple billionaire, so it's definitely going to get on your nerves. They even get on my nerves, they-"

Bruce gently tugged her arms off of her, "Talia, I can handle it. I'm not a judgemental guy, I swear. It's fine if they're a little weird." His face rested in a blank, -but more importantly, not a horrified or angry- expression. "Come on, let's go inside. They're probably waiting for us." He pointed towards the door, beginning to open it. Talia, still frazzled, immediately swung her arms over to stop him from opening it.

"Please, Beloved, you don't understand! It's not a difference in culture, tastes, or even opinions! I swear on my life… they're crazy." She stared into his eyes. Her pupils were huge, and her hands were shaky as she held him back. "I don't care if you don't believe me, but just… promise you won't blame me for them?" Talia looked down desperately. Her words slowed for a moment.

"Of course," Bruce nodded, but before she could even communicate her gratitude, he abruptly swung the door open. "I've told you a million times, though, I'm sure I won't even be blaming them! You're worr-" The second he took his eyes off of Talia, and on to the room in front of them, his mouth dropped. Every word he said about it being fine was regretted almost immediately. It was so very, very, not fine.

Bruce had looked just quick enough to see Nyssa cross a final line with the throwing… a full, sharp, assassin knife. It shot directly into, and right through, Ra's' guts. Blood dripped down his stomach area and onto his shirt and cape. Ra's looked down at the injury for a moment, before quickly realizing that Talia and her boyfriend had officially arrived.

"Look what you've done now, Nyssa!" Ra's scolded, pointing to Bruce angrily. "Our guest has arrived, and you've done this right in front of him! Look at him, so startled at your audacity to stab me that he can't seem to speak…. Congratulations, you've embarrassed the whole family!" Bruce couldn't seem to listen to Ra's, with his eyes stuck on his stomach. Blood kept spilling out of it, yet Ra's hardly seemed to mind.

"...Are you okay?" Bruce took a slow, hesitant step towards the dinner table. His eyes were as wide as he thought they could go. "Shouldn't someone call an ambulance? You're bleeding out!" With the pure shock of it all starting to fade, he whipped out his phone and started navigating to the dialer.

Now dripping even more blood on the ground, Ra's pranced over to the front door to greet Bruce. "No, no, no! Don't mind my other daughter's ill manors. She's never well-behaved anymore, I'm afraid. But you're the guest, you shouldn't worry about this. Just sit down and relax." He led Bruce over to his seat, nudging him to sit down onto it. Ra's turned his stomach away from the chair to be sure he didn't get any little drops of blood on it. As he made his way back to his own seat, he gestured towards his stab wound. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to have to get changed and cleaned up. I'm afraid this stab wound has created quite a mess."

Still recovering from the shock of the stabbing, Bruce attempted to reason with him, "But don't you need to get medica-" Before he could even finish his sentence, though, Ra's was already out of the room and down the hallway. As hard as Ra's had tried to keep the floor from too much damage, there were still drips of blood every few feet. Bruce considered following them to make sure he was okay, but quickly realized that with all the servants here, at least one person would help.

Talia sat down next to him, surprisingly unstartled by her own father's stabbing, "Try not to worry too much about it, Beloved. This happens a lot -sometimes even ending in the opposite- and as you can see, it has never resulted in his -or even Nyssa's- death. Oh, and don't worry for your own life, the stabbing is very personal. I doubt Nyssa thinks you have enough of a connection with him to be worth hurting." She explained matter-of-factly. Her hand gently reached over to pat his hand, in an attempt to sooth him.

"Okay… I just, I don't want you to lose him. I don't want you to feel the same pain of losing your parents as I did…" His voice quivered at the thought of his own parent's tragic murder. Talia nodded, understanding his pain, but in no way attempting to agree with him.

"As I've said before, don't worry. I'm afraid my mother already died when I was a child, and her death frightened me, but him? No, no, no, he's quite the survivor. He's survived so many ridiculous situations, in fact, I believe he's practically immortal!" She exclaimed the strong statement, seeming a bit excited, but not quite cheerful. Seeing the statement as a casual joke, Bruce laughed nervously. Talia did not laugh with him, though. To his discomfort, she stared at him, just as dead-serious as she was with her original warning.

The sound of her father's pattering footsteps knocked them both out of their odd conversation. Ra's entered the room, his blood now nowhere in sight. Despite how formal the arrangement was supposed to be, he was shirtless. A new shirt, looking very similar to the one he was wearing when Bruce arrived, was tucked under his arm.

As Ra's started pulling the shirt on, Bruce noticed something. The place where the stab wound had been just a moment ago was perfectly visible, with no clothes covering it, and yet it just… wasn't there anymore. Certainly no blood, but not even any bandages, or any kind of scar! The only thing in the victim's gut area was skin. Pure, undamaged, skin. Talia's family was starting to seriously freak Bruce out.

Once Ra's had gotten his upper-half dressed, he promptly began making his more formal greeting to Bruce, "I'm afraid, with all that chaos, I never got the chance to introduce myself! I'm Ra's Al Ghul, Talia's father. You can call me Ra's…. At least as long as I haven't found you unworthy of casual nicknames." He narrowed his eyes, scaring away any joy in Bruce for the moment. "...And you are…? I'm afraid I don't think Talia's mentioned your name."

"I'm Bruce… um, Bruce Wayne." Bruce stuttered, trying to shake away the strong sense of uncomfort Ra's was starting to give him. Ra's smiled politely, and shook his hand.

"Welcome to our home, Bruce… Or Mr. Wayne, whatever you prefer to be called." He gestured to the grand mansion they were having dinner in. Having had enough of leaning over to be eye-to-eye with Bruce, he slumped back down onto his chair. His grand, collared, cape got thrown back in the process.

"..Bruce is fine," Bruce answered, still a bit nervous. Ra's nodded at him. Surrounded by a thick layer of eyeliner, his eyes seemed to stare into Bruce's soul. Bruce hated to judge someone for their clothing style, but the way Ra's dressed was certainly off for a meet-the-family type dinner. In fact, with the gold button on his cloak looking eerily like a demon's face, he was practically dressed like a supervillain.

Everyone began eating the food in peace. Nyssa did not try to stab anyone during that time, and neither did Ra's. It was pure silence at the dinner table, with everyone focusing purely on their plates instead of making conversation. Eventually, Ra's finally brought his head up from it and started speaking to Bruce.

"So… You want to marry my daughter?" Ra's asked, looking at Bruce sternly. His eyes carefully moved up and down, evaluating every single part of Bruce to see how worthy it was. He squinted at Bruce's jacket, his shoes, his expression… everything. As much as Bruce tried to seem calm and collected for Ra's, both the sudden assumption of marriage and the intense staring were only making him feel subconscious.

Fortunately, Talia immediately cleared it up, "We haven't even spoken about marriage yet, Father! Please, you're going to overwhelm him. Didn't I already tell you not to do this?" She pleaded. Talia gulped, just as she had been doing consecutively for this entire dinner. Watching her father act this way always felt a bit off, but having her boyfriend there just made it so much worse. She could easily feel what Bruce was feeling, -or at least what she thought he was- and she knew it was far from positive. Talia looked back down at her plate, hiding her face as it turned bright red. She didn't think she'd ever felt quite this embarrassed in her entire life.

"I apologize, but you do realize, Talia, that if you ever want your relationship to go anywhere you must marry him at some point. How long have you two been dating, again?" Ra's looked back at Bruce, waiting for him to finally speak for himself.

Bruce took a deep breath, "Somewhere around 6 months? Or possibly 7, it's hard to get it exact." Ra's raised an eyebrow at the number.

"You two… have not even been thinking about marriage yet? Let me tell you, every single one of my marriages has always started with a month -at most- of prior dating, and I have had at least one perfectly good marriage. You all remember Sora, may she rest in peace, and we had the happiest of marriages. Yet, we married out of convenience! We hardly knew each other! Sometimes, you young ones must just let-" Ra's rambled, only to be cut off by Talia sighing. The gush of air was so loud and obviously exasperated that it completely cut off his story. After a second or two of silence, he continued despite it, "As I was saying, sometimes you young ones need to understand that dating isn't going to secure a marriage. A good attitude will! Both Sora and I had a good attitude, and she managed to be the light of my life. But of course, that only lasted so-"

This time, Talia simply used her words to stop him, "-So long because she got strangled to death in front of your eyes. We all know, Father, and frankly I don't think Bruce needs to know your life story. Why can't we just talk about something a bit more.. Conventional? We already talk about murder and death so much, can't we just lighten up a bit?" She begged, biting her lip uncomfortably. Her eyes looked at Ra's softly, almost as if she was attempting to do puppy eyes.

"Fine, fine, I really should get to the point, anyhow. We must tell if he is worthy enough to even date you! Only the finest in the lands are worthy of you, my darling, and so far I doubt he's up to that standard." Ra's scoffed, and Bruce couldn't help but roll his eyes in return. Talia looked down again, rubbing her temples. She was just about ready to fall asleep on her father's nonsense. "Hmmm…." Not paying any attention to his daughter's misery, he stared into Bruce's eyes for what must have been the fifth time.

"He's…. Very….. Wealthy…." Talia stated. Each word was separated by a ton of sighs, groans, and deep breaths of frustration. Even as she spoke to her father, she kept her eyes locked down on her plate, in a painful stare. Ra's rested his chin on his hand as he considered her words. He looked side to side, while tilting his head every which way in correspondence.

"Well… I suppose a bit of extra money surely isn't hurting his worthiness." Ra's titled his head one last time, glancing up at Bruce from a different angle. Slowly, he adjusted his head back to normal. His arms were lightly touching down on the table, propping up his hands to wrap their fingers in between the other one. Ra's leaned forward, with his face now less than a foot in front of his hands. "But… you can already get as much of that as you'd ever possibly need from me. Worthiness, you see, is about much more than that. It's about the intelligence. The skill. The strength. The willpower…. The grace." His index fingers, now pointing up from the rest of his hands, tapped against each other. Each tap was methodical, rhythmic… like the ticking of a clock, clacking each second away.

Bruce felt a cold, thick, drop of sweat roll down his forehead, "I… I once took an IQ test. Mine is… higher than normal. Quite a bit higher, I believe." He picked up his napkin and quickly wiped the sweat off, attempting to push a smile onto his face. Or, just some sign of confidence, at the very least. Unfortunately, he was just a billionaire -and not a very emotionally-mature billionaire at that- so it wasn't exactly helping his case.

"Good. That's very good…." Ra's nodded approvingly. His index fingers tapped together again each time his head bopped up and down. Finally looking up from her plate, Talia started to smile, a glint of hope in her eyes. "But if you really have such an impressive intelligence quotient, you better start acting like it. Hit it where it really counts, not just some meaningless quiz. If you want to receive my daughter's hand in marriage, you will prove yourself worthy of such a thing in real life." His head's nodding quickly came to a stop.

Talia sighed again, but didn't even try to bother stopping it. Her mind was much more focused on the worse tests she reckoned would come after… the ones her beloved, as wonderful and skilled as he was, was still bound to fail. She glanced up at Bruce, noticing how wet his forehead looked. Her warnings had not done a thing, as even now, he was acting as if this was a big problem in comparison to the other thing her father most valued.

As she silently brooded, Ra's began to start his opportunity for Bruce to prove his intelligence, "Bring. It. In!" His voice boomed through the room as he looked at his assassins servants expectantly. To his dismay, they all simply stared at him, waiting for some more clarification. Their eyes blinked unknowingly. Ra's cringed at his servant's lack of understanding. "I said, bring. It. In!" Yet again, he got nothing brought in at all. A long, exasperated sigh, -almost as heavy as Talia's had been all night- escaped his mouth.

One of the servants, still unsure what to do but eager to help, went over and stood by his side. The servant bowed, but didn't dare ask for clarification. Not wanting to anger the master, the servant made sure to be patient and let Ra's have time to explain himself.

Ra's turned directly towards the closest servant, looking him in the eyes desperately, "You know, it. The thing. The one you should be bringing in right now. Whipping up out of nowhere." The servant nodded, but continued to wait for even more of an explanation. Ra's waved his hand in front of the person, unsure if they were even listening. "Come on! Get to it! Bring. IT. IN….. Ah, forget it! I was really hoping I wasn't going to have to ruin the suspense and the drama like this, but the chess board! The one I always pull out dramatically when attempting to test whether I should respect someone! The grand assessment!"

"Ohhhhh…." The servant slowly nodded. They spun on their heels, beginning to make their way off to get the chess board. Every breath Ra's took was long and agitated, gushing out like the wind as he watched the servant disappear into the next room.

He turned back towards Bruce, "I apologize for that mishap. It seems I really should just keep my chess board nearby in these kinds of situations, but I promise you, my assassins did say they'd have it handy." He scoffed at their incompetence. Bruce, on the other hand, was a bit more focused on another thing. He stared at Ra's, his eyebrows furrowing.

If this family wasn't already freaking him out, they certainly were now, "A… Assassi-?!"

But before he even got to finish expressing his frantic confusion, Ra's quickly interrupted him. These 'assassins' of his were back, now with the chessboard that he desired so badly. Ra's rapidly swiped the chessboard out of their hands and slapped it down in front of the two of them.

"Finally, we can begin!" He exclaimed, a tint of annoyance still in his voice. He turned back towards his assassins for a moment, gritting his teeth. "We'll talk about this whole 'ruining my drama' thing later. All of you." Ra's pointed at his own two eyes with two of his fingers, and then pointed the fingers back down on the League of Assassins members.

"And I think we need to talk about this whole assassi-!?" Still more focused on the other matter at hand, he persisted in attempting to get some kind of explanation. But yet again, Ra's was simply not listening.

"You may go first. It's only fair that the guest gets privileges. Besides, I think you'll need every advantage you can get when playing with someone who's been playing this game for centuries." Ra's pointed to Bruce's end of the board, waiting. Bruce's lips quivered as he stared at it. From the corner of his eye, he watched as Ra's folded his hands together calmly. "Go on,"

Bruce chuckled nervously, "You're exaggerating… right?" His finger slowly inched towards the board as he thought about his first move. It was a strategy game, and Bruce was good at such games, but the claims Ra's was stating were more than intimidating. He bit his tongue, thinking back to all the games he'd won against Alfred.

"Exaggerating? Oh, hardly." Ra's shrugged, "You see, young man, this game has been going on far beyond even an old man like me's lifetime. I've been playing it for a long time, and I haven't gotten bored. But I have, as a matter of fact, learned many, many, strategies. I'd find it incredible for this to even last more than 30 minutes before you lose." Bruce leaned towards the board in concentration, attempting to ignore the chills running down his spine.

After what felt like forever of them playing chess, Talia finally saw an ending as she looked at the chess board. All of Bruce's pieces were blocked, in some way or another. She sighed in relief. Not only was this game not going to last forever, but her boyfriend wasn't even going to lose.

"It seems we've ended with a stalemate…" Ra's grinned at the outcome. He pulled out a clipboard from under the table, scribbling down the points this gave Bruce. Quickly tucking the clipboard back under the table, a look of awe sparkled in his eyes. "This is… incredible. Quite entertaining, actually! I haven't had a good opponent like this in years! Decades, even… if not centuries!" Bruce smirked, a sense of confidence raining over him. Talia rolled her eyes. She had certainly stalemated with Ra's at least once.

"Good, but now, can we please focus back on the fact that you called these… people around us... assassins?!" Bruce shook off the pride as he finally remembered the eerie mention. Talia's face flopped back down to face her plate. Her breaths were thin and short as she held back the urge to stand up and run straight out of this embarrassment.

"I did, didn't I...? Is that a problem? Did I offend you with that term?" Her father's voice rose. Despite the innocent questions, he fought back the urge to roll his eyes or scoff yet again in annoyance. "Would you prefer them to be called ninjas, murderers, or simply 'the people around us'? …..You're the guest."

"Murdere-?!" Bruce leaned back, unsure how to even say such a terrifying word. His mouth dropped open as his eyes anxiously darted back and forth. "These people are really… actual….." Talia reached over to Bruce, squeezing his hand.

"Are you alright, Beloved?" Talia asked. Her hand was warm, or possibly even a bit fever-ish to the touch. As was her cheeks, so very red with nerves. Bruce stared at her face, observing the not only embarrassed, but almost shameful expression smeared across it. A thought suddenly occurred to him… a quite unnerving, but eerily plausible one.

Bruce sighed, "...yes," He muttered through gritted teeth. Talia's shoulders slouched down, feeling her tense muscles relax at the reassurance. Bruce turned back towards Ra's, pouting his lip in a disapproving frown. "But… I don't want to stay here any longer than I have to. Let's get on with it, Ra's." Talia's muscles tensed right back up.

"Very well then, young man," Ra's aggressively shoved the chess board to the side. He pushed himself up from his seat, pulling out a sword that he had apparently been hiding in his pockets. "The next test is all about your ability to fight. Not only do I expect you to protect my daughter if the need comes up, but you also must be capable of winning wars if you want to win my daughter's love."

Talia pulled herself up from her seat, as well, "He already has my love, though, Father! No offense, but your tests and evaluations are all for yourself, and yourself only. We've already dated for long enough that it's ridiculous to act as if we aren't already in a romantic relationship." She crossed her arms, starting to get seriously fed up with her father's absurd behavior.

"Yes, yes, of course. But if you want me to treat you as my son-in-law, much less, my equal, you need to complete this test. It's about the respect! You've already shown competence in a battle of wits, now you must show you are just as skilled in physical battles for me to respect you." Ra's pointed his sword towards Bruce, making a stabbing motion towards the air. Bruce flinched as the sharp blade reached towards his chest. "Go on, get your blade out. This may not be a duel to the death -since Talia did go out of her way to make me promise I wouldn't stab you- but it's still a battle that you need to be prepared for."

"My… blade?" Bruce raised one of his eyebrows in confusion. He shook his head and squinted his eyes at Ra's. "I was just trying to go to a formal dinner, to meet my girlfriend's family. Why. Would. I. Have. a. Sword. With. Me?!" After having to listen to Ra's constantly scoff throughout the dinner, he finally managed to gather the courage to scoff back.

"You must always be prepared, young man. Always. You are obviously immature. You know strategies, but you lack the true wisdom to use them properly. But, I suppose that is only to be expected with your young age, so…. I will still give you a chance." Ra's slid his sword back into his pocket. His lips rested in a strict frown, but began to curve up ever so slightly for a moment. "Besides, you already stale-mated me. I love a good stalemate! I can't believe I found someone who could achieve such an outcome! You're wonderful, Bruce. Just wonderful… Assassins, get him a sword!"

Bruce could only stare as a woman, dressed in all black attire, handed him her sword. He opened his mouth to reject it, but only a small, frantic, l uttering sound sputtered out. Everyone, including Talia, Nyssa, the assassins, and a man who's name hadn't been mentioned yet, stepped back, leaving Bruce and Ra's alone. Bruce slowly wrapped his hands around the handle of his weapon, still adjusting to the odd feeling of holding such a sharp object in his hand. By the time he realized what was happening around him, it was much too late to eat his last bite of food.

In fact, it was too late to even stretch before the battle. Ra's, who was seemingly having enough of Bruce's shock, was already lunging over. His sword slashed at Bruce's. With Bruce's fingers barely even holding on to it, Bruce's sword immediately got flung to the ground upon feeling any kind of impact.

Clang! The metal blade chimed as it hit the hard floor. The sound instantaneously knocked Ra's out of his intense battle-focus. His teeth were not gritted anymore, and his eyes widened from their stern glaring. He looked down at the stray weapon, then back up to Bruce. Now realizing what had happened, Bruce's face turned red. A tiny spray of sweat appeared on his forehead as he looked down with embarrassment.

"With all due respect, I have never had a weaker or less skillful opponent." Ra's blinked at the pathetic sight, shaking his head. He bent down to the ground and picked up the sword. The woman who it belonged to eagerly reached out to take it from him. Ra's turned back towards Bruce, who gulped as he saw the disappointment in his eyes. "I suppose I should've expected this kind of thing from such an average billionaire, although that chess game had sure gotten me hopeful. I mean god, was that a good game!" Ra's mumbled, holding back a smile.

Bruce sighed, "Let me guess, you want me to never date or even speak to your daughter again." He looked back at Talia, his shoulders slumping at the thought of leaving someone so lovely. But almost just as quickly, his shoulders pulled back up again. "Because if I may just say, this is completely unwarranted! You could've at least given me a warning about this nonsense…"

"You.. have a point." Ra's nodded, "Which is why I haven't completely ruled you out. That chess game still proves your utter excellency in nature, so perhaps it is rather cruel to blame you for this one time. But-"

Out of pure instinct, Bruce punched Ra's in the gut and kicked him to the floor. Ra's quickly jumped back up and dusted himself off, hardly bothered physically. But mentally, he was shocked. Talia ran to her father's side to make sure he was alright.

"Why would you do that, Beloved?" She yelled at Bruce. With Ra's obviously unarmed, she took a step towards her boyfriend. "You already weren't doing very well on his evaluations, so how do you think attacking him is going to help you?"

"I've proved I can defeat him." Bruce narrowed his eyes, still confident in his reckless behavior. Talia sighed, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. "He was doubting my ability to fight, but I've proved that I'm perfectly capable of throwing a punch or two. Since he's so obsessed with my fighting, it should help me be 'worthy' or whatnot." He crossed his arms.

Ra's rested his forehead against his hand, facepalming, "Yes, you got me on the ground for a bit, but at what cost? Ambushing may be a great strategy, and I already admitted you knew many strategies, but what kind of true warrior would use it on his own friend!?" He snapped. His large boots rattled as he stomped his foot on the ground. "A little agitation and frustration towards me does not take away the fact that you never declared us at war!" He began to stomp back to his seat at the dinner table.

"For goodness sakes, you're really going to lecture me about my morals when you've got a freaking assassin cult surrounding us!?" Bruce yelled back in return, "In my defense, when I see assassins, it really seems like anything I do would be in self-defense… Even if you weren't currently attacking me…" He argued. Every sense of nervousness had spiraled into anger.

"Exactly, we never attacked you except for a formal, well-mannered, spa-"

"Shut up! Can't you both just agree to disagree?!" Now shaking from frustration, Talia finally let her voice really rise and scream at them both. She tugged Bruce back to the table, and motioned for them both to sit down. "Apparently you're both a bit crazy, but two different kinds of crazy that apparently don't mix. I just- I just want this dinner to not be the worst experience of all of our lives…." As she settled back down into her own chair, her voice began to lower again.

Bruce and Ra's both begrudgingly nodded. Everyone's muscles began to relax, and their breaths were much slower and calmer. The ticks of an old clock clacked in the background as everyone went back to eating calmly. After a few minutes of peaceful silence, a soft conversation began again.

"I don't think you two ever introduced yourselves." Bruce pointed to another man and woman who were seated at the table with them. They had been simply watching and speculating as him and Ra's did their shenanigans. "You're Nyssa, right?" He pointed to the woman who had stabbed Ra's not long ago.

"Yes, and it's been quite amusing to watch him be kinder to you than he is to me." Nyssa sent him a cold glare across the table. He shuttered. "I'm Talia's older sister… or technically half sister, but you get the point."

Ra's quickly took up the introductions once she was finished, "Yes, yes, she's my other daughter. Much older than Talia, but nowhere near as wonderful." He smiled at Talia, who blushed uncomfortably. Being the favorite was better than being the least favorite, but it could certainly be embarrassing, too. Ra's turned towards Dusan, "He's… my son? I think. I'm sorry, it's been a long time since his birth, so I sometimes forget it even happened! His name is… hmm… I'm fairly sure it starts with a C…"

"It's Dusan, Father. It doesn't even start with a C…" The man corrected. He sighed at his father's forgetfulness. Ra's titled his head at Dusan, displeased at the answer. His expression was questionable, with an eyebrow raised, like he was about to question Dusan on his own name. Dusan sighed even deeper.

"I… supposed that's his name, then…" Ra's gave in, his tone still indicating his lack of certainty on the matter. He looked Dusan in the eyes, making direct eye contact, "But don't call me Father! You're hardly my son if I can't even remember my name." Dusan returned the eye contact with a look of sadness and disappointment.

"If it makes you feel any better, Dusan, I still consider you my big brother." Talia stated, smiling towards him shyly. Dusan shook off the eye contact with Ra's to send a bitter glare back to his younger sister.

"Oh really? Like I care, Favorite! One day, he's going to realize that I'm the better child and you're going to be forsaken considering how much trouble you've caused him!" Dusan scowled at Talia. She groaned, but stayed quiet in an attempt to avoid another embarrassing argument.

"Don't you dare speak to your superior that way!" Despite her silence, Ra's was far from quiet. He immediately looked back towards Bruce as he finished speaking. His speech was completely polite to Bruce now, as if the spontaneous attack had never even happened. "I apologize for his foul behavior, Bruce. It seems that sometimes immature children will act out if you forget to treat them kindly."

"Um… okay." Bruce squinted at Ra's, concerned but still confused. He was still certain that despite the uncalled-for attack, Ra's was still indefinitely the crazier one. But of course, in an effort to not upset Talia, Bruce kept this thought to himself. "I… suppose you must have another test for me, right?"

"Of course! Even though your manners aren't the very best, I will admit you did get me on the ground for a bit there, so… I still haven't counted you out. With a little teaching, you could be a very worthy man." Ra's complimented, "I'd just like to ask you a few questions, to get a grip of your personality just a bit better." He explained, pushing his food to the side.

"Go ahead," Bruce said. Despite his encouraging words, though, he was frowning in utter disinterest. He slowly pushed his food to the side to clear a path between them. Ra's pointed to Bruce before he asked the first question.

"How do you feel about the environment? More specifically, the planet. Innocent animals made endangered by man-made devices and pollution!" Ra's began. He eagerly stretched his hand over to grab a nearby globe, pulling it into his clutches. His thick, strong, fingers spun it nonchalantly.

Bruce thought about the question for a moment, "I feel bad for the animals. Since I have so much money, I've donated tons to helping them, and I feel the environment is a very important cause. I will admit I haven't done a ton of work with it myself, though…" He answered the question as truthfully as possible, figuring it probably wasn't too important.

"That's good… although I would appreciate a bit more enthusiasm for such an important cause." Ra's nodded, quickly moving on to the next question. "How about… murder? Assuming there's a good cause for it, of course."

Bruce froze, "Do I… do I have to answer truthfully?" He whispered into Talia's ear. She nodded, pointing towards her father. With a couple of her fingers pressed up to her neck, she made a cut-throat gesture. Bruce shuttered and shook at such a threatening signal, even if it was more of a simple warning. "I think it's horrible. One of the worst crimes imaginable. I would never commit it, even if it cost me my life. I don't think there's any excuse for taking another human being's life, no matter what that human being has done."

Ra's frowned at the blunt response, "But what if it saved other lives? The animals, which we've hurt so much with pollution's lives, perhaps?" He argued, continuing to spin his globe fidgetly. His eyes peered down at the bright blue paint, thinking of the dolphins, fish, seals, and whales that all inhabited that precious space. The space humans were constantly taking over, with their plastic, machinery, and oil spills. To Ra's, such horrid actions seemed surely worthy of the death penalty.

"I said no," Bruce shook his head stubbornly. "No one deserves to die, period. I'm not going to be persuaded on this." He glared at Ra's, starting to get more and more confident by the minute. Ra's glowered right back at him.

Talia sighed, "You know, Beloved… You didn't have to be this blunt about it." She leaned her head on chin on her hand wearily. Her eyes began to close softly, having no energy left after all the messes that had gone on. "I just didn't want you making up something too-good-to-be-true…."

Bruce rolled his eyes, "Well maybe I want to be blunt-"

"Well, I'd like to remind you that my father isn't exactly the person you want to upset!" She gestured back towards all the highly-trained assassins surrounding them. Every single one had belts with an arsenal of weapons tucked inside, and half of them had enough muscles to take down most people without the help of the weapons. "Only a fool would mess with such a man. After months of dating you, I hope I am not misled when I say you're not that much of an idiot."

Bruce gulped, immediately realizing his mistake, "I…. I'm sorry, Mr. Al Ghul." He looked back at Ra's nervously. He quickly tightened his tie and fixed his posture, hoping even that small of a change could make a difference. . . Whether that difference was a matter of life or death, or simply whether Talia and him were allowed to keep dating.

"You know... '' Ra's considered his options, peering at Bruce judgmentally. "That kind of rebelness does show courage, if you squint. I'll be fair and say it's bound to come in handy at some point in your life… so, I have decided that you two may keep dating. From what I've heard, you make my daughter happy, so I suppose I'd feel bad being too judgemental." He smiled at Talia. Getting up from his seat, he wandered around the table to kiss her forehead lovingly.

Despite the loving gesture, though, Talia was much more focused on the wonderful news this meant for her and Bruce. The minute her father was done giving her the kiss, she ran over to Bruce and hugged him. Bruce wrapped his hands around her as well, squeezing her against him.

"Thank you, Father," Talia turned back towards Ra's for a split second before leaning back into Bruce's hug. She rested her cheek against him affectionately. "You're alive. I can't believe you're still alive. Everyone's still alive…." She smiled, tilting her to the left to peck him on the cheek.

"Yes.. although I will admit it's a bit sad that we even questioned that.. Not that we didn't have the right to." Bruce glared at Nyssa and Ra's bitterly. Fortunately, they were both looking the opposite way. He really had to stop doing so much of this rebellious, impolite, glaring at those he was attempting to make fond of him. "But more importantly, we get to stay together! I knew I had made the right move by attacking your father." He smirked.

"Sure you did," Talia's smile twisted into a smirk along with his, "There's a reason he didn't kill you, though, Beloved. You were wonderful… and the stalemate? That's more than impressive. It took me my entire childhood of playing chess with him to start being able to get those! You're so intelligent, and brave, and… well, I'm just very glad I fell in love with someone as wonderful as you. Even if you did punch my Father." Her eyes softened for a moment, now taken over by a bittersweet gaze.

"...Thank you," Bruce smiled softly back to her, but it was quickly taken over by a more solemn, concerned, expression. "Can we talk outside for a moment, Talia? After all this, I think there's a lot we need to go over… privately." He nudged her out of the comfy hug.

Talia's smile immediately dropped, "Of… course," She stuttered, now remembering that Bruce had just learned tons of secrets in this one evening. Her head turned slightly back towards Ra's, "Please excuse us for a moment." Taking Bruce's hand, Talia led him outside to a nearby courtyard.

Once they got there, Bruce let out a long, painfully loud, groan. He flopped down onto one of the benches drowsily. Talia sat down with him, letting out a smaller groan herself. They sat there, with all masks and forced smiles dropped for an awkward minute or two. Their eyes were closed for the most of it, only flickering open every few seconds.

"I assume you want to break up with me, anyway." Talia finally spoke, her words slow and quiet above the peeps of nearby crickets. She stared straight down at the ground, neglecting to blink or let the aching tears stream out of her eyes. Bruce slowly looked up at her. Both their heads were still dropping forwards for the most part, but he peered at her from the corner of his eye. Another gap of silence stood between them before he finally opened his mouth to answer her question.

"...No, not necessarily." Bruce finally answered. He looked back down at his lap, avoiding any kind of eye contact. Her chin twitched upwards at the good news. But as he spoke again, Talia's chin lowered. "But… out of curiosity, if I did, would your father kill me?"

"Well… yes, probably." Her skirt gently flew up, caught in the airy breeze. She breathed in and out, as slow and soft as the wind. Bruce bit his lip, pouting ever so slightly. He swallowed in consideration. "But I would try my best to stop it from happening, Beloved. As much as it would ache me, I would never want you to die, of course. …..You could fake your own death." She suggested, finally lifting her chin enough to really look at him.

Bruce flinched, but kept his head down, "I'd… rather not do that." A muffled groan escaped his lips. Talia's lips quivered at the uncomfortable sound. Her head dropped again, spinning towards the opposite direction. As she turned away, Bruce continued thinking over his options. Everything felt wrong, but somehow right in an odd way. They sat in silence for another couple minutes as he fell deep into his thoughts.

"You promised," Talia suddenly blurted out. Tears had begun to well up in the corners of her eyes. She continued to look away from him, hiding the weak, desperate look on her face. "You promised you wouldn't blame me for them….. You promised." Her voice was careful as she attempted to keep her tone as calm as possible.

Bruce nodded, "You're right," He stated. For a second, but only for a second, did his voice crack into a much shakier tone. It pained him to look at her, to hear her faltering voice, and most of all, to know that she hadn't truly done a thing. At least, as far as he knew. "Your father's a criminal. The leader of a league dedicated to murder. So, with that knowledge in mind…. How many people have you murdered?"

Talia gulped, "You- You don't want to know." She shook her head shamefully. Bruce winced at the cold, gut-wrenching answer. "You and I both know you don't truly want to hear the answer to that question." She repeated. Talia pressed her eyes closed, letting tears seep out out and on to her trembling cheeks. Bruce was going to go. She was sure of it.

"Why…? Why would you-" Bruce stuttered. He finally fully lifted his head to face the apparent-murderer. Talia turned even farther away from him in response.

"Can't you see? My father is an ecoterrorist, Beloved. A mass-murderer. A genocidal maniac. I spent my entire childhood in his care… Of course I've killed for him!" Her voice rose a bit. Talia's eyes peered back at Bruce to see his reaction, but she didn't move a muscle in her neck to truly look at him. "I swear on my life, I didn't enjoy it. But I couldn't let him down. I still can't let him down. He's still my father, and… I can't betray my own family, can I?" She wrapped her arms around herself. A sad look sparkled in her eyes, almost mirroring the stars above them.

Bruce felt a tinge of anger run up his spine, "But…. you want to, don't you?" Talia's neck shook as her head flopped even closer to her lap. He moved his hand a bit closer to her, considering whether he should place it on her shoulder or not.

"Maybe I do," Talia whispered, her words barely audible. It was if she was simply mouthing them to herself. She squeezed her eyes shut as she spoke the tiny, quiet, little words. As she slowly opened them again, she gradually turned her head to finally face him. Their eyes met for a moment, "But maybe I don't. It's more complicated than that, Beloved ..." Her head still faced him, but her eyes broke out of the eye contact. They wandered in the opposite direction wistfully.

Bruce sucked in his lips, every muscle in his body cramping together. He resisted every urge in himself to touch her, hug her... or simply just reach a bit closer to hold hands. She was a murderer. He shouldn't have felt this way, he knew he shouldn't, but the urges were there. Bruce. Still. Loved. Her. It hurt to say the words inside his head, but not quite as much as it hurt to deny it. He kept his hand still, worried even a small vibration of movement could result in him fully wrapping his arms around Talia. But as he focused on stillness in his body, Bruce felt another hand reach over and squeeze his.

"All I know now, Beloved… is that I don't want to betray you." Talia looked straight at him now, adjusting her entire body to lean towards him. Bruce looked straight at her, as well. Her green eyes were glossy, with wet tears glistening in the moonlight. "We could still work out. My father actually seems to admire you, and I do, as well, but…. I'm not sure if you return such admiration…. After everything you've learned."

"You have a point," Bruce pushed himself off the bench. He began to tread forward, wandering around the courtyard. "I lose nothing from staying with you… except perhaps my lack of relations with murderers. It's not like I'm completely innocent myself. I may not have taken anyone's life, but I certainly started some fires against people who didn't completely deserve it. My poor math teacher…. Besides, I made a promise." He paced back and forth, gradually walking faster and faster|.

Talia sighed, "But that promise only included what my family did," She stood up with him. "They are my murders, not my-"

"Yes," He looked down for a moment, lost in thought yet again. His mouth rested in an aloof frown. Bruce's eyes narrowed. "But even then, it's more than clear you wouldn't be such a murderer if it weren't for where you were raised. Blaming you for such a thing could be considered breaking my promise either way." His hands spun up and down, gesturing as he explained his logic.

Talia's hand reached over to his, "Please… I'm not some kind of damsel in distress. I may have tears coming out of my eyes, and I may look pathetic right now, but…you still must make the choice that suits your heart. I don't want your pity." Her eyebrows arched, a stern focus taking over. Bruce's hands stopped twirling. A stillness crept over, with her hand just barely resting on his arm peacefully.

"-And I will not give you any, Talia," Bruce cleared his throat. Finally giving in to the undying urges, he wrapped his arms around her. Talia felt him pull her into a soft embrace. "Even through mistakes, and even, well... crimes, there is one thing standing. One thing other than pity- and that is love. It may make me crazy for doing so, or even a criminal, but I will give you mine."

"What does that even mean, though?" Talia asked, looking downwards. Her eyelids flapped up and down as she quickly blinked. "I… suppose it doesn't even matter, does it? Not now, anyhow… If you will give me your love, then I will give you mine." She quickly peeked back up, now with a wide smile across her face.

"I think we both know what that means, then… and what it doesn't." Bruce sighed, carefully taking a step back from Talia. Their loving embrace loosened. Talia's smile began to drop, but still not fully hit a frown. "I'm sorry. I… may have gotten lost in the fairytales there. Or maybe I was right. I'm not even sure anymore, Talia…"

Talia took deep breaths as she thought everything he was saying over, "You… you said thought we both knew what it meant… and what it didn't, of course. But perhaps…" Her hand, hesitant and unsure, began to slowly nudge him back towards her. Despite his overall reluctance, he easily let her lead him in the movement. "Perhaps for now… we can just focus on what it does mean, Beloved." She whispered the endearing nickname, a hopeful smile appearing on his face. Bruce couldn't help but smile back.

With their arms already wrapped tightly around each other, Talia slowly began to lean in for a kiss. Bruce closed his eyes, gently following her affectionate behavior. Both of their soft hugs towards the other one tightened even more as they leaned in close. The soft glow of the moon shimmered behind them as they finally kissed. Talia and Bruce held the other one happily. Happy. Even for just a moment, they were happy.

[baticorngirl]

Title: Scribbles of Love

Rating: General Audiences

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[baticorngirl]

Title: "And They All Lived Happily Ever After" (Dedicated to@mac-attack5 so she'll cry while reading, details in 1st A/N)

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Fandom: Batman/DC Warning(s): Graphic Depictions of Violence Relationship(s): Ra's al Ghul & Talia al Ghul, Talia al Ghul & Melisande, (Heavily Mentioned) Ra's al Ghul/Sora, Characters: Ra's al Ghul, Talia al Ghul, Melisande (Talia's mother),

Summary: When she was small, Talia al Ghul's favorite bedtime story used to be her father's own origin story. It had excitement, twists, revenge, and a moral that Ra's urged her to follow constantly, but that was not the reason she liked it. She liked it because of the beginning. The part where her father was kind, anti-murder, anti-death, and pro-humanity. Perhaps it was a guilty pleasure of hers, to imagine that time. Her father would be very upset to think of her enjoying these thoughts, she knew. Perhaps rightfully. Perhaps she needed to learn better with maturity, or needed to stop being so naive.

Or perhaps, those thoughts were the most beautiful thing she had.

Chapter 6 of 6

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<Click here to read Chapter 1>

Author's Note:

I just want to say, before you even begin to read, that the dialogue and whatnot for this entire fic realistically would probably not be in English, and I am aware of that (but I am also monolingual). There's a line in this chapter that talks about a "relatively commonly known language" but there are plenty of well-known languages other than English, obviously lol. I just wanted to clarify that, now please enjoy the final chapter!

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Three years passed.

In that time, Talia, through a mix of excuses and avoidance, managed to kill only around five more people. As much as she hated to admit it, it was getting easier– slightly. Her most recent kill, she hadn't even had nightmares after, and had only cried for a minute, at most. In some ways, it was undoubtedly relieving to not deal with the overwhelming sorrow of her first kill, but in other ways, it was even more bothersome. Her mind was adapting, just as Ra's had promised. He'd been right about killing; Murder comes much more naturally with experience.

That meant, of course, that Talia's mind was twisting into the one of not just a murderer, but a multi-murderer. A serial killer, even.

Even at fourteen years old, it was a terrifying thought. She understood why a person might wish to kill, and she understood why her father did. But she didn't currently wish to, at least not on those spontaneous Ra's chose for her, so to think that she was starting to be alright with killing random people, some even more innocent than others, made her feel powerful. Not in a good way, though– Talia felt, in all of the word's disturbing glory, sadistic.

It wasn't a comforting feeling, to say the least. But, for now, blood did still bother her in similar ways to her words at four-years-old; "The person was alive, and then they're not, and that's gross and bad."

Ra's had noticed even the smaller changes, though, and it pleased him. Those grins were probably what bothered Talia most. Although in some ways they were a normal, proud father's light-hearted smile, in other ways, with the context, at least, his eyes were gleaming murderously. It was the smirk of a killer, and, parent or not, pleasing a killer had its drawbacks. Mostly, the quiet yet persistence wonders of what, exactly, it said about her. Killers pleased killers when it came to those kinds of smiles, not innocent children– unless they were in the process of being slaughtered, that was.

But, today was not a day to think about that. Talia was finally getting a day off to enjoy the area they were currently visiting. It was certainly a nice, eye-catching city, but regardless, they didn't visit often. That, mixed with the increasing rarity of a completely training-less day, only made it more exciting.

Talia had left early that morning to make the most of the day. So early, in fact, that the sun was only now starting to peek up and light up the previously dark sky. A gorgeous, shimmering sunrise to begin a gorgeous, shimmering day.

First, Talia had decided that, since her undeniably rich father gave a more than recent allowance despite her hardly ever having time to use, she'd go shopping.

Her feet pranced over the sidewalks happily as she looked around at all the passing buildings. They were tall, most being skyscrapers, and her eyes widened at seeing so many store signs inside. Many choices unfolded before her eyes, all seeming nice in their own ways. She walked a couple more blocks, only to run into several more stores, all of which looked just as appealing.

Eventually, Talia did choose, though. The first store she'd waltzed into was a smaller shop, looking tiny compared to all the nearby department stores. Although Talia had considered shopping for clothes or shoes, something very stereotypically average for a teen of her age, this shop had small little souvenirs instead that looked just as appealing.

Talia ended up getting a few trinkets, but then moved on to her next store quickly to save as much time as possible. There, she finally did get some clothes. Talia indeed had enough clothes already, most of which were made custom and of the finest materials around, not to mention absolutely gorgeous in fashion, but it wasn't really about that. It was much more for simply the experience of shopping for her own clothes normally, instead of giving a request or two to a specific tailor. It may have been ungrateful of her to prefer the less expensive way, in some eyes, but it felt much more interactive when everything was right there for her gaping eyes to see.

She picked out a few dresses, first of all, but then moved on to some other clothes, like normal pants. At first, there were a few decent looking pairs, but nothing better than what Talia already had, so she almost simply moved on from that section without anything. Yet, the more she looked, the more Talia discovered more and more modern types of attire, including jeans.

Ra's, being your average immortal old man, hadn't ever considered the idea of even putting those kinds of pants in the question for Talia, especially due to their original use –manual labor, which Ra's conservatively still viewed them as for– being something Talia didn't ever really do. Although, unsurprisingly, they were not her style in the slightest and would clash with the majority of her old-fashioned wardrobe, Talia grabbed a pair out of pure curiosity.

As she went through a few more sections, Talia moved on from clothing shopping.

At this point, she'd gotten tired, as well as hungry. Her stomach growled loudly, so Talia went off to have lunch. She almost always ate lunch with Ra's, on his huge, elegantly long table, experiencing the taste of nothing less than her family's personal specialized chefs' premium food for each meal. Talia, feeling experimental, decided she wanted lunch to be as far from that, despite being able to afford quite literally anything in the area.

When Talia had chosen a fast food restaurant, out of all places, the assassin alongside her (which Ra's had unfortunately made Talia bring along) certainly raised some eyebrows.

Talia, too, had raised some eyebrows when she actually tasted the food. It was much saltier, yet overall blander and more basic than the expensive cuisine she was used to, but in some ways, there was something satisfying about the lack of healthy ingredients.

The difference, at least, was not a disappointment– Talia had possibly eaten fast food once in her life before this, if that. Her surprise was so obvious that even some other customer's gave her a look.

Nonetheless, Talia went straight back to shopping immediately after. She picked up some more small trinkets, along with a few books and even a small card game. Eventually, in mid-afternoon, Talia decided that spending her entire day shopping was quite a waste, so she did some other activities. The place was even next to a large lake, which she spent a couple hours kayaking in leisurely.

Unfortunately, her fun was quickly cut short when she checked her League of Assassins communicator. It was a walkie talkie, albeit an extremely high-tech one, so it made a sharp, rigid crackle of static as Ra's attempted to contact her. Talia instantly checked the time, only to discover it was nowhere near curfew. Her eyebrows furrowed as she picked it up.

"Father?" Talia's voice was quiet and slightly timid with confusion. She bit her lip, considering the lack of warning to such a call. It was concerning, to say the least. "Is everything alright? It's nowhere near time for me to head back yet, if I remember correctly, so what's your reason for contacting me so early?"

Ra's, on the other hand, was much louder. He exclaimed his each and every word into the microphone, seeming to get louder and louder each second. The tone was harsh and quick, emphasizing each consonant with a clicking of his tongue. He was certainly upset. Angry, even. It startled Talia as he first began to speak back to her.

"Talia, you must return home immediately. No dawdling in the slightest. I want you here, standing right in front of me, as soon as possible," He threatened. Talia's smile was immediately wide off her face, as was her entire happy manner. Her shoulders constricted. "We have a lot to talk about, and you have a lot to answer for, Miss. I hope you understand that the punishments will not be minor for your nearly traitorous behavior."

"But–" Talia swallowed down harshly, "What are you talking about? I didn't betray you! I promise! You're my family, I wouldn't ever…" Stutters riddled her words as she tried to defend herself. Her entire body language got shaky in the matters of a single second.

"Hello?" Talia called, now even more puzzled.

There wasn't a single answer.

She ran back to the vehicle as fast she could, leaping from one foot to the other and a rapid sprint. The other assassin followed behind, barely keeping up with her. When she finally got to the car, Talia neatly slid straight into her seat. Her lungs pushed in and out, panting for air after her speedy run, not to mention all the stressed thoughts running through her head that only made it harder to breathe.

Ignoring this struggle, Talia grabbed the seatbelt, throwing it over her body in the same swift, quick action as the run. The assassin took another second to get in after her, but they threw their own seatbelt on just as quickly, sensing her panicking urgency. They immediately turned the car on and began to back out.

It took half the entire drive back for Talia's breathing to turn back to normal, and that entire time, her face felt burning hot with shame.

She didn't even remember what she'd done that sparked her father to throw out the word 'traitorous', but the thought of betraying her own family made her stomach hurt. Talia nearly got carsick, sitting there, with warm cheeks and an uneasy stomach. Her throat gulped down more and more saliva in some futile attempt to keep her nerves in control, but the feeling hardly got better at all.

In fact, once they could see a little glimpse of the top of the League of Assassins headquarters in the distance, the knot in her stomach got a thousand times worse. Talia just barely resisted the urge to throw up.

Despite her initial instinctual speed, when the car truly did stop in front of that large building, Talia found herself frozen. She held her breath, letting the second of silent air give her the slightest moment of peace. Her eyes flapped shut, only to pop right back open again, this time wide with subtle terror. Her nose twitched nervously as her mind spun in chaos, attempting to sort out what she'd even done. It couldn't have been that bad, because otherwise, Talia would recognize it as such. He'd even used the word nearly, not truly, so it was fine… or perhaps not. Talia knew hardly anything.

Plunk! Her thoughts were quickly interrupted by an assassin politely opening up the door for her. But even then, a second longer of shock reigned her brain. Talia slowly scooched to the door, gently reaching a single foot out to get out of the car. Yet, she held that foot in the air for another moment before reluctantly stepping out and heading in to face Ra's.

Talia's eyes stared straight ahead, not daring to do so much as blink, as she plodded along through the entrance hallway. Each foot made no sound at all as they were carefully rolled to the floor.

A sitting room –one of many, actually– was placed as the first room after the hallway. It had a grand entrance, with an opening much larger than a door, that displayed several large, comfortable couches and seats with embroidered fabrics, all wrapping around an even bigger coffee table in the middle. Behind them, a large fireplace was glowing with a soft fire. It looked cozy, to say the least, and Talia might have even stopped there for a moment to calm down before facing her father if it wasn't for one thing.

Ra's was already sitting in the middle of the scene, with his legs crossed and his fingers folded together neatly, waiting for her.

Talia stared at her father, scanning his position up and down. He was calmer by body language than he'd sounded over the communicator, at least mostly. His back was leaned up against a pillow nonchalantly, and his legs and arms were in a quite normal, passive position. But, underneath his arms, was tucked a small array of papers. Even from the hallways, Talia could see wrinkles on the surface of them.

Her eyebrows furrowed again. Traitorous papers seemed a small matter, but at the same time, there were many things it could be.

She forced her feet to walk a couple of small, timid steps forward to get a better view, but to Talia's dismay, she still couldn't make out what those papers were about, and Ra's had not spoken a single word to her yet to clue her in. His eyelids hung relaxed, but with every step, Talia could see his chest heaving up and down a lot bit more. That calmness would not last long. She could feel it in the eerily quiet atmosphere.

"Father…" Talia whispered into that uncomfortable air, slow and uncertain. She took a few more steps into the room, still painfully sluggish in her pace. She watched carefully as Ra's' eyes opened fully, and he opened his mouth to address her.

"Talia," He whispered back in the same slow, uncomfortable tone– but not nearly as uncertain. He was confident as could be, with those little papers tucked so securely against his torso and lap. Suddenly, his voice got quicker. "Could you please hurry up and join me so we can begin with our little discussion?"

Despite her continuous hesitance, Talia was quick to nodd. She began to walk much quicker now, yet her feet still dragged across the floor with dwindling nerves. Her lower lip, as much as she tried to control it, was quivering. Ra's, still relatively calm, patted the seat next to him gently. Talia quickened even more, ending up right in that seat in a matter of a few seconds. Even then, though, she stared down at her lap.

"Now, I would say I was sorry to interrupt such a special day," Ra's stated. His voice was starting to get louder, with a growing tint of agitation lying in the mostly calm tone. "But this was more than necessary to speak about immediately, and with what this conversation is about, I don't exactly think you deserve to be rewarded for your actions, don't you think?" The agitation continued to become more and more present.

Talia gently shook her head, but then raised a single eyebrow, "Speaking of which… what, again, is this conversation about?" Her eyes looked left and right like a bouncing ball nervously. She fidgeted around with her hands, rubbing them against each other. "What are those… papers for?" Her eyes went straight back down to her lap after she spoke.

"Oh, you're not a foolish child. I'm sure you can figure it out." Ra's shrugged, but still did not lift his hands off the papers. Talia subtly leaned closer to him, attempting to see around his arms. Unfortunately, she couldn't make out any of the writing at all, simply that it was not printed, but handwritten. It did not make her eyebrows furrow any less. Ra's' eyes narrowed down on her. "Act innocent as you please, but I'm sure you've seen them before."

"Well… could you at least tell me where you got them?" Talia leaned back to her default position, giving up on the peeking. Her voice was still relatively quiet, at least back-to-back with Ra's' booming one, but it was getting slightly louder with each sentence. "Are they some kind of note spilling a secret about me, or a letter that happened to have my name as the address, or some kind of test result—?"

"Oh, Talia. You really seem to think this has much less to do with you than it does, don't you?" Ra's rolled his eyes, glancing down at the papers himself. His frown deepened, severely. "Well, you see, with how long I knew you would be gone today, I took the opportunity to take a quick check around your room. You're a teenager, after all, and adolescence can bring all kinds of dangers, both to you and the others surrounding. You're much more rebellious at this stage, often to your own downfall. It was a safety measure, and I wasn't planning on staying long. Just giving an innocent peek to your storage furniture and moving on."

Talia's eyes quickly widened, and her mouth gaped open. Her breathing, which was already so uncontrollable, managed to speed up in that mere second. She gulped as hard as her throat can handle, anticipating every one of his next words. She had things hidden in her room. With one more look at those papers, a specific one of those things immediately took her mind.

"But, unfortunately, upon looking in one of your drawers, I spotted this… writing piece of yours. At first it seems inconspicuous, but upon reading further… I see it clearly is much more than I originally suspected."

"You– You can't do that!" Suddenly, Talia's eyes stopped widening to become sharp in the corners, an abrupt tint of anger shining through. Her head stuck forward, throwing her hands, which were now fists, backwards. "I have the right to privacy! Those are my drawers to put what I want in, and you already knew I kept some very personal belongings in them. You could've at least warned me! I… I didn't expect you to…"

"As I already stated, it was for your own safety." Ra's' eyes were still more angry than hers as they glared downward. He curled his fingers backwards, pressing them against the papers to secure it down even more firmly. "Besides, it wouldn't have been a big deal at all if you were behaving as expected. You wouldn't be upset if you didn't have anything to hide, but… clearly, that was not the case."

Talia gulped again. Her eyes went back to being wide open in startle, with all her facial muscles relaxing from their anger. She wrapped her arms around herself softly, not daring to say another word, lest it trigger Ra's into even more anger than he already portrayed. Another gulp caught in her throat.

"I must say… You're quite the writer, Talia." Ra's patted the papers, making a small ruffling sound with them. His tongue clicked the roof of his mouth, making a noticeably tapping sound in the otherwise quiet environment.

"...I– I assume you read the whole thing, then?" Talia's head drooped, staring back at her lap, but she eyed Ra's from her peripheral vision. Her eyes drifted out of focus, passive in movement. "It was just a story, Father. I hope you didn't take…. Too much offense to it."

Ra's scoffed, "Oh, Daughter… you still don't get it, do you?"

Talia's head managed to lean downward even further, now not even daring to glance at Ra's from the corner of her eyes at all. Her hands had flopped down onto her lap, as well. They shook as she rested them on top of each other casually. The previous stomach ache was still very much present, tingling at every inch of her endless nerves. Gently, Talia shook her head.

Ra's scoffed again, this time even louder, "Have you ever even heard of basic family etiquette? Frankly, I'm starting to get concerned I completely failed as your parent. I thought I remembered teaching you to have some respect." He finally picked up his arms, throwing them into the air in an aggravated gesture. He picked up one of the papers and looked at it closely, reading a couple sentences. "Or at least, I was certain I taught you basic intelligence and self-awareness."

"Father, please," Talia muttered. She still didn't move her eyes a millimeter, "I didn't mean any harm."

Ra's pulled the piece of paper even closer to his eyes, "If that is of full truth, then why, exactly, would you write the story in the first place?" He shoved the piece of paper back down, looking back at Talia with the same rage-filled eyes. "Perhaps you don't understand exactly to what extent, but considering your behavior, I do believe you understand that it is not an acceptable story to be writing."

Talia's pupils went back to bouncing around the scope of her eyes, nervous and fidgety again. She wiggled her tongue, pushing around the water in her mouth to distract herself. The mild uneasy feeling in her stomach felt as if it were tripling with every one of Ra's' words, so she gently moved her hands to be around her stomach instead of on her lap, swallowing down the dull pains. She didn't even attempt to respond to Ra's in the slightest.

Suddenly, in a harsh movement, Ra's pulled all the papers up in a messy clump, "Talia, listen to me! This is not a small or insignificant matter, for several reasons that you should really be able to detect." He threw the story in her face, shoving her head back so she could see it for herself. His mouth snarled aggressively. "Just look at this! Twisting my own story so it was unrealistically happy. Happy for you, most of all, because your self-centered childish mind cannot comprehend the idea that perhaps, it was meant to be this way. Perhaps, even if it was a tragedy that Sora had to be a victim of my own ignorance, the lesson had to be taught to me one way or another!"

Talia's strong blows of breaths shot at the paper, fumbling it around in the air. Her eyes had widened from the sudden movement, leaning her neck as far back into the chair's backrest behind her as she could. The papers laid across her neck, only a few inches away, almost resembling a gentler version of a threat. Talia shuddered.

"It… it was just for my own amusement. It was just a concept. Sora just seemed like she… like she deserved better." Talia mumbled. Her father and her pressed at each other with strong, sharp eye contact. Talia's hands slowly rose in a gesture of desperate innocence. "I just wanted to utilize my imagination. I was bored, and I was only six when I wrote it, and–"

"This is such an awful story that even a six-year-old, if raised correctly, should understand better than to create it!" Ra's yelled. He pulled the papers away, though, throwing them on to the table– but only to lean closer to her himself. He screamed each word directly in her face, making Talia's breaths faster and faster by the second. "Six-year-olds are not given excuses to be downright terrible for their youth, are they?"

"I'm– I'm sorry!" Talia cried. The words were suddenly louder than her previous whispered, almost to the volume of a quiet shriek. At this point, her whole body was flat against the cushion, backing away from Ra's.

Fortunately, Ra's gradually took a couple steps away from her, "As you should be,"

He swiftly pivoted on his foot, turning away from Talia. In the same motion, he grabbed the story up from the coffee table before Talia had a second more to think of stealing it herself. He crossed his arms, crunching the papers extra in the process. Behind him, tears began to well up in the bottoms of Talia's eyes. Ever so slowly, the water seeped out and slowly began to roll down her cheeks, making their way down to her trembling pout.

A moment of silence fell over them, abruptly interrupting the loud, chaotic shouts. Ra's arms were folded behind his back, twitching slightly. Talia was twitching the whole time, as well, but in a much more uncomfortable way. Her head had returned to drooping like a sunflower. Eventually, Ra's spoke another time, this time much quieter. The sound lifted Talia up from the drooping, ever so slightly.

"You should be very disappointed in yourself, Talia."

Talia sucked in a big breath and blew it out, loud enough that even Ra's, from several feet away, could hear the gushing sounds. A few more tears dripped over, getting a bit faster. A quiet whimper cascaded from her lungs.

"I– I know," Her words were barely audible, and undeniably hesitant.

"Good," Ra's took another step forward, drifting slightly further from his daughter.

He paced around in a circle, but with a surprisingly slow pace. It was one foot at a time, no jumps, and even those steps were painfully exaggerated. The entire time, the silence had returned for, surrounding them in a mix of emptiness and fullness at the exact same time. Ra's glanced around the room as he walked. The fireplace, specifically, he eyed quite often.

As Ra's finished the circle, he found himself back facing Talia, "You understand why the story is wrong, don't you? Surely, you understand why it is invalidating and harmful to the entirety of my true, and very meaningful story, and how it's doing so. It's not exactly hard to figure out." He tapped his foot on to the floor, and then did it again, but this time as a much more firm stomp.

"Well, I…" Talia bit her lip, stuck in thought. A few tears managed to slip into her mouth as it hung open in the stutter, which she gulped down anxiously. "I… I don't completely… I kind of…. Well, I know it's naive to have written it, for sure. You referenced it as self-centered, as well. But I suppose I… I figured that could be boiled down to my young age, although obviously, it's much more than that."

Originally, after turning back, Ra's' eyes had faded back into the forced calmness that he'd shown when she'd first entered, but now, that quickly broke. Ra's' eyebrows narrowed immensely, glaring as he stared at her. His teeth gritted again, and his fists clenched with heated anger.

"I cannot believe you, Talia. You still don't understand the full scope of it?"

Talia's lips began to quiver again, almost vibrating with fear this time. She squeezed her own body as her mind quickly scrambled for the response Ra's was looking for. She glanced upwards. "No, I… I do. I just can't describe–"

"If you don't understand it, just admit it!" Ra's snapped. He leapt a few feet towards her, letting his cape fly into the air in the process. "As disappointing as it is that you don't, lying only makes it even more pitiful than it has to be… But regardless, I guess I'll have to explain it to you now, won't I?"

Talia shifted her hips, positioning her body so it faced him less. Her hair flew over her face, providing a thin layer between them. The dark strands cast clumpy shadows over the places they weren't already covered, effectively shielding Ra's from seeing her. But nonetheless, Talia's head lurched upwards in a small, timid nod.

"Fine then!" Ra's leapt another foot. His arms, already crossed tightly, pushed against each other even harder as his eyebrows tilted down at her. "First of all, you have disrespected Sora, out of all people, by treating the actions she died due to as a matter of meaningless luck! Do you wish to not learn from history? Do you wish to have your own mistakes result in someone else dying a similar, completely unnecessary death?... Most of all, do you wish I had taught you it was right?" He let out a quiet, exasperated grumble as Talia hesitated to answer.

"I— No," Talia stuttered out defensively. She leaned her head even farther from Ra's than it already was. Her feet spun around each other in a restless motion. "You're… You're interrupting it the wrong way, Father. It was… a cautionary tale, just like the real one! I only wanted to pay Sora the greatest of respects, I promise."

A distinct huff popped from Ra's mouth, "Lying to me again now, are we?" Ra's' eyebrows rose in faux amusement. He leaned right into Talia's face again, upholding an uncomfortably close eye contact. His voice had lowered in its aggression, to Talia's delight, but it didn't last long. "If it's a cautionary tale, then why didn't anything happen to the people who were –continuously, may I add– making those mistakes? They got perfect, moral-less happy endings! I'm not an idiot, Talia, for god's sake!"

Talia's feet fidgeted even faster now, but she didn't even dare open her mouth, as she already knew nothing good or sensical would come out of her messy excuses. After a moment of this, Ra's continued talking, now with a subtle smirk.

"That's what I thought. It appears you've finally chosen to quit lying. Thank you." He pulled his face back from Talia with this newly found confidence. But, regardless, his smirk quickly bounced back to a frown. "You have disrespected this whole family, and this whole league for that matter. This story shows all kinds of disloyalty to everything we stand for. Do you understand that, Talia?"

Talia solemnly nodded.

"This story, in itself, projects and encourages terrible beliefs. But, there is another thing that bothers me just as much, Talia. The original story, as I have told you many times before, is to be kept secret." Ra's' eyebrows narrowed to the point where they hardly looked open at all. His words weren't yelling, not currently, but Talia could see they were about to cross to that. "For Sora's own vengeance of killing the city, for privacy reasons… for so many more reasons, I made you promise that you would not spread the story, which already had at least one dreaded copy out there!...and you, My Dear, immediately agreed."

Talia flopped over even more, hardly holding herself up at all. She stared at the ground underneath her feet, with her eyes watery and blurry. The shame her father was urging to come out of her was pounding down on her chest. It only made her more exhausted and sick-feeling than she already was.

"Yet, apparently, since you wrote an important chunk of the story right down here, not even in the non-existent language but in a relatively commonly known one, you cannot keep a promise… can you?" Ra's whispered into her ear angrily.

For a moment, Talia continued to cry quietly. She looked back at the papers from the corner of her eye. They were terribly damaged, somehow even worse than last time she'd seen them, but they were still there. Her face was hidden from Ra's enough that he wouldn't see, so she softly smiled at the papers. From odd angles, she could even read parts of it, which only made her smile more.

"I have raised a girl of much less than honor, haven't I? Breaking promises to her very own flesh and blood?" Ra's growled, quiet yet aggressive in every definition of the word. He scoffed one more time, and stomped again, making a loud thump that echoed on the floor eerily.

Upon glancing back at her father, Talia's smiles vanished immediately, replaced with that guilt yet again. Her influx of emotions was rapid, sparking random drastic changes, as she tried to sort out her feelings on the story. In Ra's' opinion, at least, it was absolutely shameful, and she couldn't help but feel the shame. Yet, at the same time, the story was important. In the bottom of her heart, she could never truthfully tell him she regretted her decision– not on her life.

But, interrupting the consideration was a sudden realization. This realization made her expression transform to something else entirely. Pure, utter, frustration. The muscles surrounding her eyes all abruptly tensed, returning Ra's' angry glares.

"As if you've never broken a promise to me before, Father." Talia muttered bitterly, so low that Ra's heard only incoherent sounds, "So many, in fact. So many that meant so much more than this."

Ra's' eyes widened slightly, "What was that?" His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, losing most of his anger from the pure puzzlement of such inaudible speaking. He took a few steps around Talia, until he was standing directly in front of her, around three feet away. A much more normal position to speak to her, surely, as he waited for her to explain. "Excuse me?"

"Nothing," Talia quickly waved it off. The frustration had worn off in less than 20 seconds, with her sheepishness covering her expression once again. Her cheeks grew to have a dark red tint from embarrassment, and her eyes went back to being solemnly relaxed. She hung her head again, letting the shame come back a bit.

With that short, evading answer, they paused their conversation. Ra's immediately looked down at the story, which he still grasped in his hands. His eyes squinted to read the messy, wrinkly words, and his nose scrunched up with it. The movement was partially from just the fine print, but also partially from utter disgust. His frown had only grown throughout their arguments, stretching his lips uncomfortably.

Ra's grumbled at the writing, infuriated by every single word of it. His teeth rubbed against each other with a small shisking sound in pure rage. For the second time, he threw the stack onto the coffee table with a harsh throw. Talia's mouth opened wide, gasping at the sudden movement. He turned to her, still rubbing his teeth together.

"Now, of course, although it was useful for example through this discussion, it's really about time I get rid of this horrifying thing." He thought aloud, abruptly breaking their silence.

Although Ra's was currently in the midst of a strict, careless shrug, Talia's mouth opened even wider. It was obvious that he would do this. It was obvious that he would not want evidence, or broken promises, or disrespectful beliefs to continue to exist in his household, but it had all come so fast. Her tears were thickening, even as she desperately tried to hold the startle in, and, if her body wasn't already shaking, it certainly was now. Large, visible shakes.

In the heat of the moment, Talia found herself thrusting herself up from the seat and ripping every single one of those traitorous pages from her father's hands.

"What's wrong with you, Child!?" Ra's exclaimed. He instantly reached over to her clingy yet incredibly shaky hands and tugged the object back into his own. He began to march over to the fireplace, and with the bright lights of the fire reflecting and lighting up his eyes, he unlatched the fireplace's protective screening. "You should be grateful for me burning the evidence of your shameful actions!"

"I don't know…." Talia whispered weakly. She followed Ra's, much slower and gentler with her steps, and watched the glowing fire light up the backs of the papers. Suddenly, the previously cozy, innocent-looking fire appeared menacing to her peering eyes. Nonetheless, Talia quickly wiped away the tears covering her face, and held her arms behind her back.

Ra's held the papers close to the flame, grinning with guilty pleasure. The tips of them came closer and closer, only for him to be stopped, yet again.

"I'm sorry, Father, I just– I can't let you destroy it!" Talia screamed as she dove over and began to wrestle the story back out of Ra's hands. Ra's' eyes opened wide in startle, but quickly narrowed down at her again, fuming with anger. Talia didn't even notice as tears absolutely blinded for a split second. "I need that story!" She cried.

"Need? I believe you can live without a few papers, Talia!" He screamed back. His fingers grasped the papers as firmly as he could, pulling them towards his upper arms. Talia, of course, did the exact same thing back to him. Ra's groaned with anger, only pulling harder. "I said it once and I'll say it again, Talia– What the hell is wrong with you?!"

"Well, I said this once and I'll now say it again, as well– I. Don't. Know!" Talia shrieked, pulling the papers further towards her. Her nose had become sniffly from crying, and her voice started to become scratchy from it, as well. Sobs were continuing to fly out of her endlessly. "I'm sorry, Father…"

Ra's finally managed to fully rip the papers away from her, flying backwards from the momentum.

"...So, so sorry."

For a second, they both stood, now several feet apart, gazing at each other in silence. Neither made another move, simply stumbling away from each other in shock as loud, frantic breathing became the only thing to be heard. Both of them were leaning over, panting towards the ground as they attempted to recover.

Ra's pushed himself back up, ceasing his puffs, "If you're really sorry, Talia, you'll let me do this." He slowly began to walk back over to the fireplace, with Talia watching from the side passively. She was still extremely shaken-up, with tears dripping down to her shoulders, but she attempted to gulp it all down as much as possible. Ra's' hands got closer and closer again, and Talia's breath seemed to get faster and faster in unison.

Yet again, Talia dove. Ra's grunted in aggravation at the sight, jumping away just in time before she managed to get hold of the papers again.

"Give them back! They're mine, not yours to eliminate!" Talia's voice had reached his peak, screeching each word as loud as she could in pure desperation. Her mind was spinning like a rollercoaster rather than exactly thinking, and thus, when her opportunity fell out of sight, she immediately got recklessly impulsive.

With nothing to grab out, Talia ended up hitting the floor instead. She still didn't truly fall, though, as she perfectly caught herself and slid on to her knees, pushing herself back up immediately as if it hadn't even happened. Her hands thrusted towards the papers again, only to, unsurprisingly, have them pulled too far away. This was the point where she really got out of control.

Talia threw a punch towards Ra's' guts as hard as she could, gritting her teeth as she did so.

Ra's blinked rapidly, in pure amazement of her violent actions. He pulled away just in time, so he hardly received any of the impact, and Talia found her arm likely felt sorer from simply shoving it that hard than his stomach felt hurt. Regardless, she threw another punch, reaching up towards the bottom of his chin to throw his head upwards, but that one was simply dodged by one of his hands. This meant the story was less well-grasped, then, though– Talia reached for it again.

"First of all, you're a fool to even attempt to physically fight someone of so much more experience." Ra's stated. His tone was loud and raged, yet not exactly to the extent of yelling, but a more quiet anger. "Second of all, you are the single worst-behaved child I've ever encountered in my life, Talia, and you're lucky I'm taking pity on you enough to hold back in my defenses. But, going along with that, I heavily suggest you quit right now and get started with your apologies, for you're going to need everything you can get after this one."

"I'm a well-trained teenager, so at least I stand more of a chance that I did at seven!" Talia protested, "Believe me, I certainly don't enjoy having to hit you, but I also just…I can't let you take away that story, okay!?" Talia pulled as hard as she could, squeezing her eyes tight in the strain of the tiring effort. Her arms felt numb from all these punches and pulls.

"It's all I have left," She added under her breath faintly.

"A particularly unintelligent teenager, perhaps," Ra's muttered snarkily. He let out several more grunts, getting louder and louder with exaggerated frustration. His eyebrows furrowed intensely, when suddenly, out of nowhere, a smile appeared. It was very much a smirk filled with intimidation, not light-hearted joy, but it still contrasted his anger noticeably. "Did I ever tell you about the last time someone, as courageous and impulsive as yourself, attempted to stop me from getting rid of their little 'story' that included my own life story, which I've made everyone I tell it to swear to never tell or create evidence of? Did I tell you about what happened to him, Talia?"

Talia's eyes flew wide open, "You– You did,"

Ra's' smirk only grew upon hearing her uncertain, fear-riddled words. He pushed his face closer to hers, getting a direct look inside her eyes as he spoke his next sentence, watching her reaction only get more and more upset by the second. Her grip shook from even the first sentence, so his next lines did no better.

"Ah, and what happened to him, Talia?" Ra's questioned. He made his voice seem ever so slightly higher in tone, posing an odd kind of innocence to what he was asking. "Surely you remember, with it being so… memorable, and all."

"You…. killed him," Talia's voice got quiet quickly as she mentally sorted out the meaning behind these sudden questions.

"I did," Ra's nodded slowly. He pulled the paper, abrupt and hard, nearly completely yanking out of Talia's grip, which was gradually getting weaker with the questions. Fortunately, Talia bent her fingers more, catching it just in time, but her grip was still weaker than it was originally. Ra's' eyebrows lowered. "Such a beloved friend and everything. It's a shame, don't get me wrong… but, at the same time, there are situations where even murder can become a pure neccesity. Isn't there, Talia?"

Talia's eyebrows immediately furrowed. Her mouth dropped open, "Is that a… Are you… Are you threatening my life?" Her voice got high-pitched at the end in another burst of disbelief.

Ra's considered the question for a moment. His eyes bounced to the side, deep in thought while simultaneously continuing to play tug-o-war with Talia. He bit his tongue, holding it there as he thought. Talia swallowed a few more rushing tears as she watched him genuinely consider the possibility, but fortunately he shook his head.

"No, perhaps not truly… not in a way I am sincere on," Ra's said. His eyebrows were now furrowed, but quickly relaxed the more he spoke, shrugging the question off altogether. "Well, not if you listen to the warning and start behaving immediately, at least. Just take your hands off the evidence if you wish to keep your full safety, Daughter!"

Suddenly, Ra's violently kicked Talia to the ground as hard as he could, immediately turning back to the raging fire. Without a moment of hesitance, he threw the whole bundle in. The fire only grew, reaching up to the top of the bricks for a second as it devoured the contents with ease. Ra's' smirk had returned as he dusted his hands off and trotted away.

Talia got up just a moment too late, looking back to see her precious writing being burned to nothing.

"Father?" Her cheek ached from the kick, feeling all rough on the skin from the way his shoes had scraped against it even harder than she had punched him. Talia's eyes darted around, searching for her father to simply speak to. Apologize, scream at, or ask pitiful questions– Talia wasn't sure. But it didn't really matter, as Talia's eyes only darted back to the fire and the small, rapidly-roasting scraps of papers that were left inside it.

Suddenly, Talia's heartbeat began to pound again, and her impulses flipped on like a light switch. She frantically reached into the burning hot fireplace, attempting to grab any pieces she could spare right out of it, only to, unsurprisingly, pull her fingers back out of instinct once they felt the fuming heat coming from it. She hung her head for what must've been the hundredth time that evening, and simply watched as her work faded away. She could still read a few of the bits that were taking longer to burn, so she whispered them in her mind.

'And they all lived happily ever after'

Talia watched, tears rolling down her face, as those beautiful words were burned to dust.

Tiny, brittle, empty dust.

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

Ending Note:

If I have any readers at all (almost no likes rn but we vibin'), I know what you're thinking-- this is the end? Really? You're just gonna make the poor girl loose all hope and then just leave it to be dreary?

Well, I have good news! This isn't the end. Maybe.

Obviously, I don't have any more chapters written, and l said "out of 6", not to mention the fact that as depressing an ending as it is, this chapter, I would say, does certainly give some kind of conclusion. Perhaps not a satisfying one, but a conclusion nonetheless. Therefore, it's not like I can't leave it here. In fact, I may.

But at the same time, I feel like writing 6 chapters to say goodbye to a good backstory before it even gets ruined out of simple expectations isn't quite enough, in the case that it truly DOES get ruined. I mean, it probably is enough, but I want to be able to spin the ruining into something good. Either way, this fic will not cease to exist, as it was made before the comic even came out. Therefore, I have decided that I shall make this fic even longer if it does get ruined, in direct spite of it.

I have two more chapter ideas I could add on to this, therefore, we'll say at most it could get two more chapters. At the end of those chapters, the ending would likely be much more hopeful. I also have ideas for ways to do a single more chapter and make the ending more hopeful as well, but in a different way, so I've decided to make it a scale. If it's an actually pretty decent issue, then no more chapters. If it's extremely bad and absolutely ruins the story, I'll do the two chapters. If it's kinda bad but could be worse, one more chapter.

I'll need time to write those chapters, though, so before then, I can let you guys know what the plan is by editing the "out of" in these posts so it says whatever the full number will eventually be. Or, you could probably also just check my blog in general, because if it's really bad, I'll be ranting about it here. If it IS decent/good though, then a simple lack of change after the next couple days should prove it. Not that you guys probably care enough to check it, but just in case, that's how you could.

Well, I guess we'll just see what happens tomorrow with the new Robin issue!

[baticorngirl]

Title: "And They All Lived Happily Ever After"

(Dedicated to @mac-attack5)

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Fandom: Batman/DC

Warning(s): Graphic Depictions of Violence

Relationship(s): Ra's al Ghul & Talia al Ghul, Talia al Ghul & Melisande, (Heavily Mentioned) Ra's al Ghul/Sora,

Characters: Ra's al Ghul, Talia al Ghul, Melisande (Talia's mother),

Summary:

When she was small, Talia al Ghul's favorite bedtime story used to be her father's own origin story. It had excitement, twists, revenge, and a moral that Ra's urged her to follow constantly, but that was not the reason she liked it. She liked it because of the beginning. The part where her father was kind, anti-murder, anti-death, and pro-humanity. Perhaps it was a guilty pleasure of hers, to imagine that time. Her father would be very upset to think of her enjoying these thoughts, she knew. Perhaps rightfully. Perhaps she needed to learn better with maturity, or needed to stop being so naive.

Or perhaps, those thoughts were the most beautiful thing she had.

Chapter 1 of 6

<Click here to read it on Ao3 instead>

<Click here to read Chapter 2>

<Click here to read Chapter 3>

<Click here to read Chapter 4>

<Click here to read Chapter 5>

<Click here to read Chapter 6>

Author's note:

First of all, my dear readers, if you don't want heavy spoilers for Birth of the Demon, this fic is not for you. It's mostly based off of that version of Ra's' origin (with some additions from The Resurrection of Ra's Al Ghul too ofc), so almost the entire thing's gonna end up spoiled if you haven't read it already.

Second of all, if you are one of the rare people that has some huge problem with frequent updates, this fic is also not for you. It shall be updating twice a day, for reasons I will explain in a moment. All six chapters have already been fully written and edited, so, going along with that, this fic is labelled with the characters/relationships of the full story. (Specifically, Melisande will not show up until next chapter, and there is no Graphic Depictions of Violence yet.)

Third of all, this fic has a little backstory in itself that I would like to speak of. Basically, here's what happened:

Last month, I was just casually messaging @mac-attack5 (the person this fic is dedicated to) on discord, and we ended up talking about the headcanon that this fic's idea surrounds. The ideas for it got very angsty very fast, though, so...

Anyway, I took that as a challenge, so here we are. I have written a 6-chapter fic, which will end up totaling to 44k words when finished, to make my friend cry. I shall keep you guys updated on whether or not she does cry. If they don't, then... LOOK I DON'T KNOW WHAT I'M GONNA DO, OKAY????

That being said, this chapter is probably the least angsty out of all of them, so I don't expect any tears for the moment.

But, as a matter of fact, that's actually not the entire backstory. The reason it shall get updated so quickly is because I must get it out before the 25th. Why, might you ask? Because that's when the next Robin issue comes out, and this fic ALSO serves as a little goodbye to Ra's' wonderful old backstory, since I am 100% sure Robin is going to ruin it. The preview doesn't look like the worst thing in the world, but A) I wrote this fic before it and B) it's still seems like they're gonna push away the importance of Ra's' uncle for his mother, that Ra's will probably treat Damian worse than he would at this point realistically, etc. and just in general I don't trust DC writers lol so I gotta stay pessimistic so I'll at least get proven right if it's bad.

Okay, that should be it. Enjoy!

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

It was almost 8:00 at night.

Talia's voice was high-pitched, squealing. She plopped down onto her bed, bouncing with energy. Her feet kicked in the air, even as her bottom began to settle down on the firm mattress. Her squealing didn't even pause, though, as she began to chant out fumbled incomplete sentences about beds and stories and sleep. She looked at the bedroom's door, watching as her father calmly followed her in, over 10 feet behind her.

She spun herself to face him, staring up with her beady 4-year-old eyes. Talia pushed herself up from sitting again, flinging her stubby arms out from the bed impatiently. With another weary step, Ra's came into her reach. She grabbed his hand and rushed him closer, until he began to pull a chair over and sit next to her bed, ready to begin. Another squeal of excitement echoed out of the little girl's mouth.

Talia swiftly toppled into a lying position, plopping her head down onto the fluffy pillows. Her body shifted over to point towards Ra's, still staring at him with big eyes. He eyed her back, rolling his eyes, but only a moment and an exasperated sigh later, simply patted her head affectionately. She giggled.

"Alright then, my child," Ra's leaned over to her, clicking his tongue on the roof of his mouth. His fingers pressed together. "Any specific kind of story you'd like to hear this time?" He titled his head, letting his back hunch over while still cracking his neck back to see Talia's bright eyes.

Talia tugged her blankets over her shoulders, snuggling into them, "Any story," She whispered, a grin growing on her face. She fidgeted under the covers, kicking her legs around with a persistent childish energy. Her head rocked backwards, "Any exciting story,"

"Okay," Ra's paused, patting Talia's blankets down on her nonchalantly. He glanced to the left, letting his pupil drift to the top corner of his eye. Simultaneously, he bit the inside of his mouth and lowered his eyebrows, lost in thought as he considered his storytime options. After a minute, he slowly began to nod to himself, but before he could even start to open his mouth again, Talia opened her own and spoke rapidly.

"Story!" She squeaked, "Come on! Please! Tell me a story!" She parsed every sentence oddly, letting everything be short and concise, unlike Ra's' thinking time. Her head popped up from the pillow. There really was no end to her energy, apparently.

Ra's nudged her head back down, "Yes, yes, I will. Patience, Talia. Patience." Despite his insistence, he put his hand up to his chin, rubbing it with thought. It took much too long of this dreary silence before he fully decided and finally gave Talia the entertainment she had been bugging him for.

Fortunately, though, he did eventually open his eyes wide in realization, "I… I have one. It's… exciting, I believe. With a great moral of the story, too. A very important one." His voice deepened, "I want you to learn it and remember it well, Talia. I want you to focus on it more than the story itself." His mouth fell into a flat frown, running creases down the sides of his nose.

"Okay," Talia's chin bounced in a small nod, pushing the blankets downwards slightly. "I'll try to remember it,"

Ra's' eyebrows sharpened, casting shadows over his eyes, "You must remember it, not just try," He criticized, clicking his tongue on the roof of his mouth. His arms crossed, "You must follow it, most importantly. Listen carefully. Don't make any immature jokes at the expense of such a story… or any jokes at all, really. Unlike most basic fairy tales, this story isn't even partially an overdone fib… it's just the reality of what happens -What did happen, as a matter of fact- when a person spends their life making this mistake. It's for your own good tha–"

"I'll do all that," Talia's chin bounced again, pushing the blanket just the tiniest bit further. With the way her feet rubbed together rapidly, it had become more than clear how bored she was. "Just start!"

"God, you're a lost cause," Ra's spit out under his breath, "When I say you need to remember this, I mean you, specifically. I've seen you, the way you speak about my job. The way you speak about me, the way you speak about this league, the way you speak about our sacrifices in general– It could be worse, but it's flawed. You haven't fully grasped this concept, even with my constant teachings." He glared.

"I...understand," Talia's chin bounced in yet another nod, but slower. She rolled flat on her back, staring up at the ceiling as her blank expression quickly proved her claim as a lie. But after a moment, she just shrugged and turned back towards him, smiling again. "But Father, come on! You told me there was excitement!"

Ra's' shoulders rose, and his breath became much louder. He huffed at Talia's disregard for the 'important moral', pressing his teeth against each other sternly. His neck leaned over, sighing again as he rested his head on his propped-up hand. Talia blinked, confused yet again by his behavior.

Ra's pushed his hand up, flinging away a short strand of hair, "Fine, fine, I'll just let you figure out all this when I'm telling it if you lack such patience," His expression gradually softened the more he glanced at Talia's adorable face. "Hopefully I am not acting foolish to trust you with such an important story at this ignorant age of yours. Just don't go around telling everyone you see and…"

"I won't!" Talia instantly swore, nodding furiously. Her eyes lit up, only now realizing that this importance made the story even more of an excitement. "I promise, Father!"

"Good," Ra's nodded in return. He took a deep suck of air into his mouth and lightly coughed, clearing his throat to prepare. Talia pressed her eyes closed in a sleepy gesture. Ra's' mouth flipped open, and his tongue twirled into a familiar pattern, "Once upon a time, in a faraway land… there was physician."

His backstory. His origin. Everything that made him who he was today, tucked in that little story. He didn't tell many people it, and frankly tried to hide it most of the time. Burying the past out of shame, grief, anger, or some twisted mix of the three was not something he was innocent of. No, not in the slightest. But history repeats itself, they say, and he could feel Talia going down that route. Even in her smile. She was still such a young child that surely it meant nothing, he would assure himself, but every action hinted. The hints built up, almost like a subtle taunt.

"Blood is gross," She had stated one day. So confident, so adamant. Her hips swung as she marched in there and made her statement. "Human corpses are gross."

Ra's had cocked his head back, "Why? Humans deserve it with the way they've treated their own habitat. It's revenge, if you put it harshly, or in truth, hardly more than a natural consequence." He turned his back on her again, shrugging. "Unless you knew the person on a deeper level, they should be sparking only joy in an intelligent witness."

"But that person was alive and then they're not," Talia argued, "That's gross and bad, because now the person has to get to a Lazarus Pit to go back to living their life. That doesn't seem good."

"As I just said, even if it's bad for that individual, it was deserved and, in most cases, a necessary punishment." Ra's shifted through a stack of books, which had laid neatly on the table in front of him, His voice had substantially increased in volume, turning harsher in tone. "If humanity doesn't benefit, that is positive, not negative."

"But–"

"But you have not been paying any attention to the lessons, have you?" Ra's accused. He spun on his heel, finally fully turning to face her. He took a few steps towards her, only to waiver of the path to grab a globe off of a nearby shelf. With a soft plop, Talia felt him place the globe in between her arms. She stared down at it curiously. Ra's kneeled down next to her, staring as well.

Ra's picked up a single finger, giving the globe a gentle spin. He placed the finger down on where it landed on, tracing it against the smooth surface. With a hint of hesitance, Talia put her finger down next to his. There were words written there, which Ra's was currently reading silently. Talia was still learning to read, though, so she simply mouthed to herself the few parts she could make out. The words were not a country's name, though, as this was not a normal globe. It was a kind of key, connecting symbols to words and descriptions. Each symbol was scattered over the map. The climate, the plants and the animals of each environment, carefully shown. Like a very specific map would, but in a spherical form.

The countries weren't even labeled, as a matter of fact. There was another globe, usually laying under a thin layer of dust next to this one, that could give Ra's his information on that if he had forgotten. But this one was not to remember labels or names, as almost every single one of those borders were man-made. Fake, ruled to exist through the minds of one species. The only names that were labeled were the continental plates. It was all that mattered to Ra's, when he looked at this globe, and all he wished to teach his daughter, at least in this moment.

"This is what the world looks like now," He explained, "Gorgeous oceans, gorgeous trees. Just a gorgeous planet, wouldn't you say? Absolutely beautiful, with all its thriving life of all kinds of animals. A miracle creation. Our miracle creation." He pressed his palm against it, rubbing the globe as he quickly pointed to different areas. Teaching Talia through gestures, he gave a tap to the key, as well.

Talia smiled, "Yes," Her eyes opened wide with wonder.

"But it's a privilege to live here, isn't it? Something we should appreciate?" He remarked. Taking his hands and eyes off the globe, he stretched his legs upwards until he stood tall over Talia. Talia's eyes followed upwards, nodding. "Well, the humans aren't appreciating it, so we must cut back on them, as it is the only effective way to save our planet. We must get rid of 9/10th of them as if they are litter –which, with the way they scatter litter around aimlessly, they have proved to quite literally be– but your many lessons, if you were paying any attention at all, should have explained all this to you in solid detail."

Talia glanced down at her shoes, fidgeting, "I know," She pulled the globe up to her chest, hugging her arms around it securely. She tapped against it's hollow ball for a moment before looking back up at her father. "They need to be punished, it's about the protection, I know…. But it just seems like a lot of death. People look sad when they die. It makes me sad."

"If you want to hold your full potential as an assassin, we'll need to work through that," Ra's stuck his index finger in the air, making a mental note of the problem. He paused for a moment, only to then stride over to his table of books and go back to sorting through them. Talia, still in his peripheral vision, pouted. "For the time being, since you're still so far away from becoming one, just always keep in mind what I taught you. Stating the wrong opinions, such as corpses being bad, is only going to manipulate you into believing them more. We don't wish for that to happen, do we?" Ra's called over to her.

"No, we don't," Talia nodded,

"So then keep your naive opinions to yourself until you have matured," Ra's advised, flipping one of the books open with a small swack. Talia nodded again, still frowning. When she left the room, her eyes glanced only to the floor. Her hips did not swing, but rather drooped. Ra's wasn't paying attention, though.

Despite all the nodding Talia had pleased him with, that was far from the last time Talia said such traitorous statements. The only difference was, they were usually said to someone else. Of course, word still trailed back to her father regardless, and although he kept quiet, this behavior worried him to the fullest extent.

It reminded him of his young self so, so very much. The same young man that betrayed his wise uncle's mildly-murderous nomads, and the same one who saved an evil person's life only for it to result in a much kinder person's death. He had to teach her better. So, without an ounce more of a hesitance, he illustrated the story's setting with his words, letting a large city in the middle of a golden desert seep into her sleepy imagination. Then describing Sora, and himself, so much younger, just before beginning to paint out the royalty of that city.

"The Sultan had one son named Runce. That son was very muscular but very ugl–" He bit his tongue only a moment before slipping out such a petty word. He could insult Runce once any spoilers were out of the question, at the end of the story. "His son was muscular and skilled in horse-riding, along with many other catches such as simply being royalty in itself, but he had no respect at all. He was not just rude, but blatantly awful to those around him…."

Ra's went back to explaining the story in a matter-of-fact tone, describing the incidents and flaws Runce obviously possessed and showed constantly. Then, he quickly switched to a slightly different topic, deciding to go to the Lazarus pit creation and, right before that, his attempts to save an old woman's (Huwe's mother, to be specific) life.

"I know this may surprise you, Talia," He quietly remarked. A sadness lay in his voice, low and gravelly, "But back when I failed to save that old woman's life, I was displeased by seeing a human being die. Overdramatic, really. I went on and on about death taking away loved ones and the despair of it all… death, how terrible, I thought. Death, a fate worse than anyone deserves…."

Talia's eyes popped open with curiosity. She scooched up horizontally more, still laying down but with her head positioned so it was propped up against her pillowed. Her mouth was open, and her eyes were widened, "But that's crazy. I mean, not what you used to say, but…. You couldn't have been like that. I know you. That's not you!" She laughed, but there was a hint of hesitance in her voice, mixed with another hint of something quite the opposite– intrigue.

"It's hard to believe, isn't it?" Ra's' eyebrows rose, glancing up to make brief eye contact with her. Not one hint of laughter lay in his expression, though. It chilled Talia, just the slightest bit. "Calm down, I told you, no jokes. But yes, I see what you mean… it's ridiculous to think I could've acted so willfully ignorant of all the horrid people in the world. So naive to the horror of humanity as a whole, truly. But, unfortunately… Well, of course I would not lie to you, Daughter." He flung his head over to face the ground again.

"I never said any of that," Talia mumbled, "I just said you're different now. You're the one hating on your old self, not me."

A single eyebrow rose on Ra's' face, "Oh, I'm just saying what we are all made aware of in the League of Assassins, Talia. It's so obvious, and I do hope you're not ignoring the facts." He stated, sounding almost apathetic with such a lack of tone. "Just promise me, Talia… when you grow older, you won't act as naive as me, will you?"

"Umm…." Talia wrapped her arms around herself, rubbing her shoulders uncertainly. Ra's pushed his head forward, gesturing for her to go on. She glanced around the room, back and forth and back and forth. "I won't act naive." Talia stated monotonously.

"Good," Ra's swallowed down a load of phlegm before continuing his story, "As I was saying, when that old woman died, I spoke about all my views of death….. The pains of death, how brutal was the enemy of humanity. How brutal was my enemy, I would describe it as. Everyone used to describe the words I spoke as prattle… well, most of it, and frankly they had a point. I was lost in this wondrous world where I could be anything I wanted. Where the world could be anything I thought it was. I was an adult, -albeit a young one- but an adult, most certainly… yet I acted like no more than a child. Not like you, Talia, My Dear, though. I've taught you better than that. I acted like a particularly immature, sheltered child…."

"Wait, Father…." Talia paused, eyes widening even more than before. "Does that mean you didn't kill people?" Her young voice squeaked again.

"Yes, clearly, but… just let me continue." He picked up his hand, pushing air around as he quickly waved away the question. Talia looked to the side, considering this answer even as Ra's changed the subject. "Huwe tried to kill me, as he had previously threatened to, and I was about to let him, when–"

"Why would you let him kill you?" Talia blurted out. Her nose scrunched up, looking almost disgusting by the idea.

Ra's sighed, loudly, as her expression faded. He put a hand up to his forehead, facepalming in annoyance.

"You do need to stop questioning every little detail of the story, Talia." He let out another sigh, pushing Talia down onto her bed. With a gentle plop, he pushed her blankets back over her. "I almost let him kill me…. Well, out of curiosity, if I remember correctly. It was a long time ago, it's… hard to remember. But I loved to learn. I suppose the afterlife is something we have learned very little about, isn't it? Not that it matters much. Death is something you inflict on the wrong, on your enemies… not yourself. Immortality is the goal. Immortality is always the goal, and I've nearly achieved it now, but then I hadn't. Frankly, none of this matters, though…. At some point I'll die permanently, and then I'll learn more of that, but even then won't be able to inform the living. There was no reason not to wait, so yet again, this is just proof of how foolish I used to act. Sure, I discovered germs and invented the Lazarus Pit at that time, but when it came to basic common sense, such as self-preservation skills and any matter of awareness, I was horribly lacking ..."

Talia glanced away from Ra's, "Al…right," Her nose was still a bit scrunched up, but the muscles were beginning to relax. "I guess you were just stupid….. Or really easy-going. Even with getting killed." She squeezed a corner of the blanket between her fingers.

"Yes, yes… something along those lines. I will say that I simply wasn't against the idea of dying, not in the slightest bit for it. That would be a completely different situation." Ra's explained, making a small, loose, hand gesture in the air with one of his hands. With that same hand, he waved this question away using the same gesture as he did to the last one. "Now, if you'll care to stop interrupting me, I do need to continue my story."

Talia flopped to her side, specifically the one facing directly away from her father. She made a small squeak of acknowledgement, but then stayed quiet to let her father speak as he had instructed. He went on and on for around a couple minutes, pulling Talia's imagination through the story. The entire time, she hardly stirred. Her ears perked up at some parts, of course, as proof she was fully listening, but her mouth certainly didn't pop open to shout out some curious queries. Ra's seemed pleased by this, in a quiet kind of way. His shoulders were loose and relaxed, at ease as he spoke.

Eventually, his shoulders did start to hunch, though. Not through anger or annoyance, especially not at his currently well-behaved daughter, but a tingling of stress and sadness in his mind. He had just resurrected Runce in the story. Runce was alive, now, and he had already gotten past his young self's original reaction. There was only one thing left to happen. It made him twitch, then pushed that twitch into a shudder. He squeezed his eyes shut, taking a breath before he spoke the next part.

"Well, Talia," He commented, drifting out of the story's plots for a moment. "The next part has excitement, I'll tell you that much. It's climactic, at least. Something happens. But… well, you'll have to wait until later for the positive excitement, for right now is… the consequence." His volume abruptly lowered, reaching almost a reluctant whisper.

Talia turned back to him, eyes wide open,"Don't spoil the next part, just tell! Does Runce say sorry about his actions after you saved him, or does he still act mean, or ..." Talia's excitement quickly lessened as she noticed her father's stern and saddened expression sharpening down on her. Biting her lip, she frowned. "Oh…. um, just go ahead," Her voice wavered, unsure what to make of her father's body language.

"The Lazarus Pit madness is what happened, Talia," Ra's made eye contact with Talia through a piercing gaze. His entire body froze, suddenly even more exhausted than before. "That cruel man… that cruel human is what happened. I don't blame the Lazarus Pit, truthfully, because I doubt it was what made his desire to act so brutal. It simply gave him the guts to go for it. It simply made him turn far enough, a turn that he likely would've made on his own regardless of the insanity… if it wasn't for the mortal illness that I cured. What happened was that he acted so horribly, naturally, human."

"But–" Talia muttered, "But what did he do?"

"He grabbed Sora," Ra's stated softly, "He did it all the time, but much more violently on this occasion. Now, I have no issue with violence, at least presently, but not against Sora. Not against someone who deserved only the gentlest of grabs. But, well…as much as I tried to stop him and save her, he…. strangled her to death." His eyes closed half-way, looking around as he considered the statement. At this point, he didn't quite look sad, but rather, emotionless. Every ounce of expression seemed to be whisked away in his far-off gaze.

Talia's mouth gaped open, "Oh," She pulled up her blankets, shuddering slightly herself. She had been told it would be an exciting story, not a true story of murder. Her lips quivered, forming a shaky pout. Her eyebrows tensed. She was so small, just half the size of her father, and her mind so fragile. But just as she was about to get even more upset, or even let out a tear at the terrifying tale, a glimpse of hope sparkled in her eyes. Still a bit shaky, her lips curled up. "Oh, I know! You'll just put her in the pit! It's already right there and prepared!"

"I tried to," To Talia's dismay, Ra's' frown only deepened.

"Did it– Did it not work?" Talia asked, "Did Sora… go crazy as well? Show her human inside?"

"Of course not, Sora was wonderful!" Ra's yelled, but his tone went straight back to normal only a moment after. "Regardless, I didn't even get that far to find out what would've happened…. Because I got strung along to the sultan's dungeons. For the crime of slaughtering an innocent woman… the one his son had committed. There were multiple witnesses, but no one stood up for me. Not one of those people cared about Sora's suffering, and they certainly didn't care about my wrongful suffering, either. No one was on our side." His head drooped down as his eyes sharpened with anger.

Talia's lips went back to their shaky quivering. Her throat felt itchy, wanting to say something while also wanting to close up and keep quiet forever at the same time. She didn't have anything to say, exactly, at least that she wanted her father to hear. Her body twisted around, burying her face up against her pillow.

Her father's gaze softened, seeming weak for half a second. His entire body slouched, dreary and outdone deep inside. Talia's eyebrows furrowed at the behavior, so different from his usual confidence and rage. His eyelids dropped to the point of almost looking closed all the way. Except then the anger came back, along with a sense of confidence, and he nodded to himself. Suddenly certain. Suddenly normal.

"A perfect example of humanity being cruel, as a whole, together," Ra's remarked, raising his eyebrows calmly. "It surprised me, back then. Now it does not, seeing the much, much, worse ways they torture the planet they were invited on to. But I don't want it to ever surprise you, My Love." He patted her head for the second time, letting every inch of mental strain Sora's death had brung up drift away.

Talia rolled flat on to her back again, only to then throw the blanket over her entire face. "That's… scary," She quietly whimpered underneath, proving herself to, despite all the desensitization, still truly be such a small child. Her back was against the headboard, with her knees shoved up to her chest, very much awake.

"Oh, you're just a little shocked. Next time, it'll come smoothly, and I'll move over this depressing part in a quicker manner. I understand you're young, but this basic story will only benefit you, I promise." Ra's arms made a loose shrugging gesture. "Speaking of which, I'll move on now. This isn't the worst of it, but I'll move fast through that if you're really so sensitive to it. At the end things will get much happier with the excitement. Satisfying, even. So very satisfying." He then let his arms drop down onto his lap, folding his hands together neatly, with the fingers securely intertwined. As he spoke, a smile abruptly took over his mouth. Unlike most smiles, though, his eyes did not squint upwards with joy, but rather stayed eerily emotionless. Angry, even. Talia's head bobbled in a nod from under the covers.

As he explained the torture and imprisonment, Talia still did not relax from her scared pose. A few whimpers even escaped, almost silent but still there. It was only when he reached Huwe's rescue that she calmed down a bit, but even then, it took until right before Runce's death for her to have finally finished gradually shifting back into a lying position.

"...So, the wrongly-done Lazarus Pit burned his ugly flesh off until all that was left was a skeleton," The same eerie smile Ra's had presented before was here again, even stronger in expression. His back had straightened, just as his arms had crossed, both showing pure confidence in his stance.

Talia was actually smiling, too, now. "I bet his corpse wasn't gross," She said. "I bet it was nice and good, just like you've been saying." Ra's' confidence only grew from this sudden agreement.

"Of course it was," Ra's nodded boldly, his chin bouncing high in approval. "I already promised you this would be righteous-feeling. See? Humans deserve all this death. It's a wondrous thing, as a matter of fact, and it's progress to see you addressing it all on your own."

"Maybe," Talia replied, tilting her head. Ra's' eyes squinted for a moment, unsure what to make of the short answer.

Despite it, he went on with his story. All about fighting together with Huwe and his uncle, defeating and slaughtering all the warriors. Talia's smile certainly faded at those parts, but she stayed calm, at least relative to before. She even closed her eyes in an effort to start falling asleep, and although her happiness had pretty much all gone away, she was content enough. Or, at the very least, apathetic.

Until Ra's reached the part where the group came back to the big city, that was. Until Ra's stated bloody descriptions of every single human being's death that lived there. Talia's head darted up from the pillow, pouting yet again. Pouting more than the part where Sora died, even. Her stubby, frail arms wrapped around herself, and her eyebrows tilted downwards with a burst of anger in her gaze. Ra's' eyes widened at the sudden reaction, expecting if anything, her to react the same as with Runce's death. He sighed.

"Why would you kill those people?" Talia exclaimed, "That's so random! They didn't kill Sora, Runce did, and you already dealt with him. Why– why would you–?" The words stumbled out of her frowning mouth in a frantic load of concern. She bounced up and down on her mattress, but not with excitement this time. Anxious was the only way she could describe the movements now.

"Do you really believe simple murder to be enough when they murdered my true love and tortured me almost to death?" Ra's questioned, his voice getting louder with a hint of frustration. "Stay calm, Talia. It was all in my grand plan to take away their power, and even erase what they had used their power for in the past. It was the ultimate revenge, truthfully. It should be satisfying, if you consider it on a deeper level."

"But–" Talia doubted, "But those people didn't do anything! How would that help? I don't get it." Her voice squeaked again as she got more nervous.

"It's not about the individuals," Ra's explained. He blinked slowly, as his voice gradually faded into a single tone. "It is about the full picture. It's about what all this will result in, and that was revenge in this situation. It's the same with my world-domination plans. You focus too much on the human corpses in it… when you could look at the bloodless animals saved." A soft smile covered his face.

"But–" Talia doubted for the second time, "But that doesn't make… But those people…. But what if you or me were one of them? They weren't any worse than us. We could've died. That's… That's scary, too!" She whined.

"It doesn't matter anymore, Talia. I achieved my means and there's no going back so we'll just have to assume it was worth it." Ra's tightened in his arm-crossing, turning from confident to angry and stern. "Although, well.. I will admit I didn't feel too good after it. I admit Sora was still gone in my heart, and I admit my actions did nothing to save me from that. But I also happened to become sick right then, so for all I know, it was just an effect from that. An arbitrary mix of emotions from a burst of weakness." Ra's shrugged it off.

"Those people probably felt really scared," Talia stated. Some small wrinkles puffed in her primarily-smooth forehead at the concern. "Those feelings they felt when you were killing them probably weren't very… very… arbi– arbitr…." Her mouth made a funny face as she attempted to repeat Ra's' complex wording.

A much louder sigh poured from Ra's' lungs, "Ah, Children. Always so naive. Always so sensitive to these matters." He didn't even bother to argue with her. Instead, Ra's rolled his neck around, glancing to the floor with a sense of subtle anger at the child.

Silence took over the air for a good minute or so. Talia was still sitting straight up in her bed, looking directly at her father unpleasantly. Meanwhile, Ra's did not return the looks, as he still rolled his neck around to glance at the most spontaneous things around the room. He ignored her out of his annoyance. After another second, Talia just wiped her eyes of any welled-up tears and plopped back down sadly. Ra's took this as a cue to continue with his story.

The last few details were mostly adding on to the part that Talia didn't like, so she made sure to position herself to be as far away from Ra's as possible. A puffed up piece of blanket blocked him away from her. From where she couldn't see her, Talia's eyes were angry in expression. But also sad… quite sad.

"That's how I became who I am today," Ra's finished. Talia breathed a sigh of relief at the end, exhaling out quite audibly. Ra's didn't respond, though, but simply pushed the blanket wall down and gently patted her back. "Are you still awake under there, my love?" He smiled at her.

"Yes…" Talia replied, slowly beginning to turn around to face him. Her face still displayed visible distress.

"Then how do you feel about the story?" Ra's asked. A single eyebrow rose in genuine intrigue. He leaned in, making eye contact from only a foot away. Talia rocked her head back and forth, swishing her mouth about uncertainly. Ra's' eyebrow rose again. "What did you take from it?"

"Well… I liked the beginning part," She mumbled. Her mood quickly changed, letting a small smile take over her. That smile only grew as she spoke once more. "I liked hearing about when you thought killing was bad… And I liked hearing about Sora and how you loved her. I liked hearing about the part where you thought corpses were gross."

Ra's' eyebrows quickly furrowed in concern and barely-hidden disappointment, "Because you learned from it, I assume? Because it was interesting to learn how such actions backfired?" He lifted his chin upwards slightly. Under his breath, his mouth quietly muttered out a whisper. "That's not a part you're meant to like."

"Probably," Talia shrugged, biting down on one side of her lip innocently. "Or maybe it was just interesting to learn about your past in general. Your old opinions and stuff." She glanced downwards, narrowly avoiding Ra's' eye contact. Her blanket was in a twisted mess over her now, and she nonchalantly began to fix it. Ra's waited to answer.

"I… guess that makes sense," Ra's agreed, but his judgemental side-glance proved otherwise. For around half a minute this time, Ra's and Talia stayed silent. Talia spent the entire time kicking around her bed sheets until they worked well, not even bothering to give a look back at her father. Ra's calmly sucked his lips in thoughtfully. "Any other thoughts you acquired about it?" It took a moment of confusion on Talia's face before she understood her father's formal word choice this time, but she eventually got it.

"Well," She began, "I liked it when you killed Runce,"

Ra's went back to peacefully smiling, "Any specific reason for that? Because he deserved it, I assume? Because humans deserve it? Because Sora deserved all the vengeance in the world for the unjust he put her through?" He stuck his chin even further outwards towards Talia as he encouraged her forward, subtly anticipating a good response.

"Yes," Talia said. She turned from her blankets to her pillows, throwing one up in the air enthusiastically to puff it up. Apparently, she'd done it harder than she realized, as it nearly flew right on to the floor, if it hadn't been for her father catching and handing it back to her. She positioned the pillow down and then got comfortable on top of it. But right as she rolled herself down on to it, a couple quiet sentences seeped out of her mouth. "But honestly, I also just… liked it when you killed someone to help her. When you killed out of love, instead of… you know. I don't see you do that much anymore."

Ra's' brow scrunched up in confusion, "On the contrary, that's certainly not something I quit after that. I've killed for my loved ones plenty of times. Loved ones of all kinds, even, as sometimes even people as far as allies will get a simple vengeance if they're murdered offensively enough." Not even looking down to do it, he grabbed Talia's blanket and gently wrapped it over her arms to tuck her in.

"But that's just if it offends you, isn't it?" Talia clarified, pushing herself down even deeper into the sheets to get fully cozy. "I meant when you kill that person because they're bad. Simply because they hurt the person, and you love them. When you explained it, it sounded like that's what happened with Runce."

"Of course it was," Ra's nodded. He was now standing up from his seat, stretching his legs out as he walked careless circles around his chair. "He brought harm to me as well, but at that moment, of course I had Sora on my mind. It was for her, not myself, I promise you. But even those kinds I haven't stopped doing. Just consider our entire plans to save the earth with the cutting down of the human population." He broke out from the circle to make his way to a blank wall in Talia's bedroom.

On the wall, he traced out a circle with his fingers. His head leaned against the wall as well, gazing directly out at the large circle he was mentally marking out. It was no more than a gesture, of course, but he repeated the gesture several times, as if it could somehow drill his points into Talia's head even deeper through it. Meanwhile, Talia's head had perked up to watch Ra's' movements, messing up her blankets slightly again.

"We're protecting the Earth, Talia," Ra's verbally established, making a tap on the wall with the same tracing finger. He briefly glanced back at her to make sure she was watching. "We're protecting it because we love it, and because we cherish it more than the rest. Is that not out of love?... Besides, consider the animals this organization has saved. Every single one lies so close to my heart, and I wish to get rid of humans to make room for more. Is that not out of love?" He pressed his palm against the wall, pushing against it to twirl himself around until his back was pushed against it. His arms pulled in, folding over one another behind his back.

Talia nodded, but while moving her head in a way that almost also made her shake her head, too. Her eyes began to fall closed, looking at Ra's and showing brief confusion while also being quite obviously much too tired to fully react.

Ra's walked back over to her, pushing her straight back down onto her back and tucking her in yet again. She didn't resist at all, just sitting there as the sleepiness took over. Ra's took a deep breath, letting his expression soften at the sight of Talia fall asleep. He patted her small, child-sized head.

Talia's imagination took over from this point. At first, her father's last words about murder and love crept into her mind, but the word 'love' stuck. It was such a beautiful word. In the League of Assassins, hardly anyone spoke about it, or used it to its full potential. So, Talia thought of love without murder, and the words of death taking away love, quoted from Ra's so long ago, filled her head. It was such an intriguing idea. It was an idea that for once, she wanted to believe in.

Eventually, her mind mashed all her scattered sleepy thoughts into a dreamland world standing in front of her. It was a beautiful world, with bright, shining, affection that she held onto and dreamt off all night long. It was a more beautiful world than she was surrounded by. There was no blood. No blood at all. Talia had already seen so much blood, even at 4 years old, that it was a simple relief to not see that disgusting death for a moment.

Ra's would not have liked her enjoying this dream. He wouldn't have enjoyed this dream. He would've called it naive. He would've called it too good, to the point of fraud. But in that moment, it didn't matter. Because that story had opened up a concept in her that she liked a lot– her father, despite his current bloodlust and obsessions with ends over means, was not always murderous.

As she was drifting out of consciousness, though, her ears had picked up one last goodnight from Ra's.

"You, yourself, are very much included in the loved ones I'd kill for, Daughter," He had reminded her, "And for you, I would kill a thousand times over. No one is allowed to hurt you, Talia, I'll make sure of it."

Even in her sleep, Talia had made a small nod back to him. Ra's leaned over, kissing the top of her head lightly. A few pit-patters echoed on the floors as he made his way to the light switch. Ra's flicked it off and took one last look at Talia, grinning.

"Not even a single punch,"

Meanwhile Talia, half-asleep but blissful, had believed those words with all of her heart.

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

Ending notes:

Reblogs, replies/comments, or even just likes are greatly appreciated <3

Also, I know some people are gonna be thinking "Ra's is acting way too nice" but just be patient because there's a point to it, and besides, back in his early years, Ra's WAS supposed to love Talia, and he did show his affection from time to time, so it might just be you reading too many modern comics where Ra's is worse than he used to be that's making you think it's more OOC than it is.

[baticorngirl]

Hello, my dear followers! I received my @badthingshappenbingo card not too long ago, and I'd like to ask you (and anyone else who may be viewing my blog) to help me decide what to do for each prompt!

This post will be updated as I do each prompt. Yellow unicorn horn will indicate that I've received an ask for that prompt, and pink will indicate that I have completed my fic for that prompt. Please only send me asks for prompts that are completely uncovered.

On top of this, I am doing the bingo for the Teen Titans Cartoon, Batfam, and DC Comics fandoms only. Anything else will not be allowed.

Now, you may be wondering- what information should you specify in your ask?

Here's a list of things you can specify, on top of the required prompt specification. Please include at least one of the following:

1. Victim Character(s): Basically just whoever the bad thing is hurting. If I haven't already written (or done a different kind of fanwork) for them before, there's definitely a chance I don't know enough about them to do the prompt. If so, I'll let you know. But to avoid this, I recommend trying to do characters from Batman Comics or the Teen Titans cartoon, since that's more my area of knowledge. That being said, you're allowed to ask for literally any DC character as long as you're okay with it being rejected.

2. Relationship(s) of Comfort: This is the relationship of the victim character and whoever is helping/comforting them. If #1 is not mentioned, they will be chosen out of the characters inside the ship. The relationships can be platonic, romantic, familial, whatever. As a solid rule, though, I will not be writing for any inc*stual, p*dophillic or otherwise inheriently abusive ships (No hate to the shippers of course, this a personal preference), at least for this category. The prosecutor and victim having an abusive relationship of some kind is very different, of course.

3. Culprit/Prosecutor Character(s): This is basically just whoever is causing the bad thing. In some situations, such as sneezing, this may not be an option at all. But in the situations where it can be specified, the same rule as for the victim applies- I have every right to reject a request due to a lack of knowledge about the character. That being said, I am going to be much more open with this one since it's easier to write bad guys you don't know too much about than a whumpee.

4. AU: Coffee shop AU, Highschool AU, you know the stuff... just please don't get carried away with how specific your AU is, especially if more than one other thing on this list is already being specified. I still need some creative freedom!

Now that's over with, please send some asks! I'd really appreciate it so much if you could just quickly throw a prompt and character or something in there!

And if you need some suggestions, I also have some extra examples and whanot under the cut. Not necessary to read, but can be helpful.

Need Examples of characters? Here are some that I've already written plenty for and/or want to write for more:

-Damian Wayne/Robin

-Talia Al Ghul

-Bruce Wayne/Batman

-Dick Grayson/Nightwing/Robin

-Starfire/Koriand'r*

-Raven*

-Beast boy/Garfield Logan*

-Terra/Tara Markov*

-Cyborg/Victor Stone*

-Alfred Pennyworth

-Duke Thomas (Just finished reading Batman & The Signal recently, so I'm still in a mood)**

-Jason Todd/Robin/Red Hood

As for more villainous culprit type characters, here's some examples:

-Ra's Al Ghul

-Slade Wilson/Deathstroke*

-Joker**

-Trigon***

Romantic Ship Examples:

-Brutalia

-Brutalina**

-Talina**

-Robstar*

-BBTerra***

-Ra's Al Ghul/Sora**

-Raestar***

-RobX***

-Slade Wilson/Trigon (Both the Cartoon version and the Tiny Titans version)***

-DamiJon**

-Cyborg/Sarasim***

Platonic Relationship Examples:

-Dick Grayson & Barbara Gordon**

-Beast Boy & Raven*

Familial Relationship Examples:

-Talia & Damian (or pretty much any of her kids)

-Evelyn Grayce & Talia Al Ghul**

-Bruce Wayne & Dick Grayson

-Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne

-Bruce Wayne & any of his other kids

-Damian Wayne & Dick Grayson

AU Examples:

-Roleswap AU

-No Capes AU

-Crime Drama AU

*Character/ships who I've mostly just written (or simply know more) for the cartoon versions of. Some of them have similar enough personalities to the comics that it won't be a big deal, while others (like Terra and Starfire) may be very visibly different. If you need it to be the comic version, please specify that, although for some characters, I may have to reject it because of not knowing enough about their comic versions.

**Characters/Ships which I have not actually written for (or at least posted fic) of. They are still on this list because I know plenty about the character/ship and I want to write with it and/or I have written things with them that I have abandoned/neglected to post. Plenty of these I may have also done fanart for, but not fic yet.

***Both of the Above

Obviously, though, those are nowhere near the full extent of your options. They are simply ideas to get your brain going, but if you've thought of a different character/relationship you want, feel free to ask for it! Just as I've already said before, all you need to keep in mind is that I'm allowed to say no if it's not an area I know about.

Just for a little extra reference, though, here's some full examples of how you can format your ask:

-Working through the Cold with Bruce, please?

-Can you do sneezing with brutalina?

-For the paralyzed by fear prompt- What about Raven is paralyzed by fear, and Starfire comforts her?

-Hate plague with the Teen Titans, caused by Slade, please?

-Reluctant Caretaker + Bruce Wayne & Dick Grayson?

-For BTHB, can you please do "trying not to cry" with Cyborg if you have to time?

I hope some of these examples were helpful! Now, if you've came up with something, please go over to my ask box and send it to me!

[baticorngirl]

Title: "And They All Lived Happily Ever After" (Dedicated to@mac-attack5 so she'll cry while reading, details in 1st A/N)

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Fandom: Batman/DC Warning(s): Graphic Depictions of Violence Relationship(s): Ra's al Ghul & Talia al Ghul, Talia al Ghul & Melisande, (Heavily Mentioned) Ra's al Ghul/Sora, Characters: Ra's al Ghul, Talia al Ghul, Melisande (Talia's mother),

Summary: When she was small, Talia al Ghul's favorite bedtime story used to be her father's own origin story. It had excitement, twists, revenge, and a moral that Ra's urged her to follow constantly, but that was not the reason she liked it. She liked it because of the beginning. The part where her father was kind, anti-murder, anti-death, and pro-humanity. Perhaps it was a guilty pleasure of hers, to imagine that time. Her father would be very upset to think of her enjoying these thoughts, she knew. Perhaps rightfully. Perhaps she needed to learn better with maturity, or needed to stop being so naive.

Or perhaps, those thoughts were the most beautiful thing she had.

Chapter 3 of 6

<Click here to read it on Ao3 instead>

<Click here to read Chapter 1>

<Click here to read Chapter 2>

<Click here to read Chapter 4>

<Click here to read Chapter 5>

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Feeling as if a light bulb had pulled from her head, Talia got an idea.

At this point, it had been nearly a year since the punch had occurred, and Talia didn't think about it much anymore. Perhaps it came up from time to time, haunting her in terrifying but faded memories, but she was over it. As over it as she was going to get, at least. It still bothered her, deep inside. She'd be fine, though– fine enough.

What she thought about much more, however, was the story. It wasn't new, of course, for it to pop into her head from time to time, but it hadn't slowed down in the slightest. She could see his previous self in her father, occasionally, and it gave her a subtle sense of joy. Or simple comfort, as the massive amount of death, blood, and heinous crimes she watched her father commit continued to gradually increase. So different from the old physician was he, even as she saw those quiet similarities. He was nearing the opposite at this point…. Not quite, but he certainly wasn't making progress in the better direction.

Ever since his last resurrection, the amount of nights Ra's told her bedtime stories was cut in half. It had already lessened, of course, but now it wasn't him being tired, or mere forgetful, as sometimes Talia went out of her way to ask, only to have this behavior frowned upon– severely. He would get annoyed by even the start to the question, making exaggerations to how many much more important tasks he had, and if she dared to say another word on it, that annoyance would quickly transform into anger. That anger would transform into yelling.

To him, It wasn't even just an inconvenience anymore, as it eventually twisted into shameful words. She wasn't even 7 yet, and in fact, she had several months until it. But that didn't stop him from bringing up her lack of age-related maturity. Especially if his backstory, specifically, came up.

"You're not an infant anymore. Nor a toddler," He would declare, with his body crossed into a tense, infuriated position. Talia would stare straight at the ground, hunched over disappointedly. "You can sleep without it. I know you can, therefore this entire conversation is pointless. If you can sleep without it, there's no reason I should be bothered to tell you any children's story! If you're so obsessed with that story specifically, though, do not fear, for I'm sure you'll be taught a story with the same moral –don't act childish and naive– by looking at yourself. Act your age, Young Lady!"

Then, almost every single time, he would loudly stomp out, slamming the door behind him as Talia frowned behind him.

That was why, before she got the idea, it had been a while since she'd last heard his origin story. Hence, that was also why she needed to hear it another time before she enacted the idea– meaning she had to get through to her father, no matter how much yelling, insults, or days it took to get there.

For, her idea was to write a story.

Not just any story. Not even really her own story, but her own version of a story. Like the way, gradually, classic fairytales and folklore evolved from generation to generation. Each family member finding their own way to describe it to their children, who then described it differently, too. As a matter of fact, she supposed since Ra's was her parent, it was almost the exact same thing. Except it wasn't a mistake, or a mistranslation, or different words; it was an important, changing decision in the story. It was such a big change she couldn't tell it to her children, or their children, as it would be blunt misinformation– especially since it was based on a true tale.

Her recurring dream, in itself, was what she wished to write. She couldn't change history, she knew, but she could remember her wishes in her heart. So, to keep them even fresher, Talia wanted to put them into story form, on real physical paper to hold in her hands, as well as her heart. She wanted to sort her fumbled dreams into something real.

Just as her dream depicted, she wanted to give her father a happy ending. She wanted to give herself a happy ending.

But her father just wouldn't get it.

The night after she'd come up with the idea, Talia had immediately gone to her father for a bedtime story. He was currently in the training room, with a sword in hand and sparring gear strapped over his body, but fortunately appeared to be taking a break. He was sitting on a bench, long but shallow, as he rested his back against the wall. He tapped his finger against the sword's handle, aloof.

Talia, on the other hand, was much less active when it came to her clothing. She had already gotten changed into a nightgown, with barefoot and messy hair to match the casual clothing. Yet, she still crept into the training room, opening up the door slowly before she stepped in.

Her father looked up from his sword, surprised, "Talia? You– You should be getting ready for bed right now…. I see you've made some progress, but regardless, if you're done you should be working on actually falling asleep. Not going down here." His eyes narrowed, with one eyebrow raised.

"I… I was just wondering–" Talia stuttered. She fiddled with her hair, twirling it around her finger. Her eyes evaded eye contact,

"Yes?" Ra's replied. He popped up from the bench, beginning to make his way over to Talia. His arms began to cross as soon as he dropped his sword, leaving it on the bench. Ra's stopped only a few feet in front of Talia before he spoke again, this time much crisper in Talia's ear. "What do you want?"

"Uh…. Maybe… perhaps… a bedtime story?"

As soon as the words came out, Talia looked up, smiling hopefully. Her cheeks rose, an uncertain giggle erupting from her mouth. This didn't last long, though. Ra's stared back at her with much less cheer. He frowned, crossing his arms even tighter. A muttered scoff came back her way, draining the color from Talia's face.

"Why do you insist on being a handful?" He rolled his eyes, swiftly spinning on his heel to start making his way back to the bench. He walked at a slow yet consistent pace, until eventually, he bent over and sat right back down. Ra's grabbed the sword, trailing his hand along it gently. "I'm busy, quite clearly. Much too busy to practically cradle you to sleep."

"Please?" Talia followed her father into the room, cupping her hands into a begging gesture. She shook them directly in front of Ra's. "I promise, just this one time and then I won't bother you about it again… at least for the next few months."

Ra's waved his hand in the air, "We both know that's a promise you'll likely break with the way you've been behaving lately." His back was straight and confident, towering off Talia's tiny 6-year-old stature. His eyes laid down on the sword again, almost as if pretending she wasn't here.

"But I'll really–"

"Sure," Ra's rolled his eyes again, but got back up. He quickly walked over to Talia, only to begin actively dragging her out of the room. His teeth pressed against each other aggressively, "Good night, My Dear, and sweet dreams. Now… Go. To. Bed!" He exclaimed through gritted teeth once they made it to the door.

Talia's eyebrows furrowed, passively disappointed. She wrapped one arm around herself, squeezing the opposite arm with a sad spark in her tired eyes. Slowly, and quite obviously insincerely, she nodded at Ra's. He instantly shut the door, letting it make a small swoosh as it hit the frame.

She pleaded again the next day, and the one after, only for the quick rejections to repeat, over and over again. But she did not give in. Despite her father's growing impatience, she had to write that story, and surely, eventually it would work. Once she wore him down, or even simply got lucky. It wasn't as if he'd never willingly given her a story since the last Lazarus Pit use, just only specific days, when he was in his absolute best mood. Surely, he'd reach that if she just kept trying.

But it kept going on and on, with her leaving slightly more discouraged each time… until the 9th day of it, that was.

"I know what you've come here for," Ra's had stated the second she approached him. He was sitting on a couch with a book in hand, holding it up above his face without moving it at all as he addressed her. His finger plucked at a page, pulling it over calmly. "Just go ahead and say what you must."

Talia went ahead and sat down next to him on the couch. She pulled not just her bottom, but her feet, too, onto the cushion, tucking her legs underneath in a kneeling position. She used this extra height to look her father in the eyes, attempting to see around the large book. Ra's gave her a single look, but continued reading regardless.

"As I've already explained, I'd leave you alone after you told me only one bedtime story. I know I'm getting older, but it won't even take that long." Talia reasoned. She glanced away from Ra's, down at her lap, as she bit her lip nervously.

"I know what you've said," Ra's stated apathetically. He shrugged, but still without shaking the book away in the slightest. He crossed his legs, carefully plucking yet another page back. "If you're going to bother me, at least put together a good list of reasons. Persuade me, Talia, don't just give me those puppy eyes."

Talia shifted in position, letting her legs pull out, "Give me a moment, Father."

She sat, with her legs dangling off from the couch, in thought. Her eyes scanned the room, then looked at her lap, only to bounce back on to her father. He didn't look at her at all, simply plucking pages every few seconds peacefully. Talia tilted her head, gulping silently. Her fingers twisted around one another, fidgeting in a restless motion.

Talia sighed, "I do need it to sleep." She stated, watching as one of Ra's' eyebrows rose. He eyed her from above the book, waiting for her to elaborate. She sighed yet again. "I know I don't usually, but right now, I've been having trouble without it."

"Is that really true, or are you going to the level of making pitiful lies to my face to gain your desires?" Ra's' eyes narrowed at her. He slowly let his book lower, finally looking at her directly. Gradually getting lower and lower, the book eventually ended up on his lap, closed and unread.

"Look at these bags under my eyes," Talia frowned, "I haven't slept well in days."

On a technical level, even if Talia was getting a bit desperate, it wasn't a complete lie– The bags were certainly there, and as she pointed at them, Ra's could easily tell. His eyes opened a bit wider, frowning softly. The only difference to the truth was, of course, that it was not a matter of needing a story to sleep, as much as it was a matter of pure excitement. She had been anticipating writing the story for so long now, and as she was falling asleep, her brain spent so long bustling with new ideas that she hardly ended up with any time for true rest. At the same time, though, writing it would get it off her mind. Therefore, with a bedtime story, she could go straight back to her normal schedule. Her father didn't benefit from the specifics anyway.

Ra's took a long time to answer. He looked closer and closer at his daughter's face, so tired and strained, and the thought mildly puzzled him. Then, he abruptly looked away, and slightly downwards, too. Ra's rubbed his chin, considering the situation deeply.

Eventually, he looked back, "You… You need to learn to sleep well without a bedtime story. For the large majority of your life, no one is going to give you that luxury. It's for an infant's pacification, and not much else. Once older, it's a simple life skill to fall asleep in all kinds of conditions, including not having as much as a bed– much less a story." Ra's crossed his arms, staring down sternly. He shook his head pessimistically as he spoke, tensing up at his jaw.

Talia stared straight down at her lap. In pure expectancy, she slowly started to scooch herself off the couch, preparing to return to her room with the same answer as every other time before. But suddenly, behind her, she heard her father speak once more, but much softer this time.

"I suppose I can't let you exhaust yourself to death, though."

Talia twirled around, gazing at her father with bright eyes. A growing grin pressed at her cheeks, eyes wide open with gleeful surprise. She ran over to him, skipping with delight. A high-pitched, toddler-like squeal popped from the tip of her tongue. Ra's let himself smile back at her the tiniest bit, but only for a short second.

He stuck a finger in the air, shaking it pointedly, "...But this is only for tonight. You need to learn these skills properly, so in the future, bedtime stories will occur every 3 months at the absolute most, and that's only if you're on your best behavior the rest of the time. Do you understand?"

Talia immediately nodded, still overfilled with joy from his temporary agreement. Still filled with joy from her little 'idea', truly. She jumped up stairs and down hallways, letting Ra's follow behind as far away as he pleased. Eventually, they arrived. She fell onto the bed, bursting with joy, in the same manner she did every single night when she was 4 years old. Excited. So very excited.

"What story is it that you are in need of?" Ra's asked with a tired sigh. He plopped on to the same exact chair as those years ago, too, but this time with a much more exaggerated fall. "Your favorite, I assume?"

Talia nodded. She pulled the covers over herself, up high to cover as much as possible without tempting suspicion. Her hands fumbled around under it, searching without her eyes. Somewhere, in the corner of her bed, was a notebook and a pencil. (Years back, her father had given her the notebook for academic reasons; Except, fortunately, this one was nowhere near fully used.)

After a moment of searching, Talia found them. She spun the pencil, trailing her hands over it until it was situated correctly, then did the same with her papers. Underneath the covers, she quietly patted the papers down, holding them close to the pencil. Right as she finished this rushed action, Ra's was beginning the story.

Talia quickly pressed the pencil against the notebook, rapidly beginning to write 'Once upon a time, in a faraway kingdom, there lived a physician. A kind physician.'

Ra's had spoken a different thing, of course. Almost identical, but the words 'naive' slipped out of his mouth every time. Talia frowned at the word, though, and 'kind' made her smile. It was true. Perhaps naive was true, too, but it was her story. She didn't even care, and the physician was kind– she was certain of it.

Her father continued, and she continued writing along with it. Talia was getting bored, and tired, so it took no time at all for her to decide to write it completely in her voice and word-choice, instead of exchanging sections. It needed originality, regardless. It was her story. Her fingers still moved swiftly, pressing the pencil gently over the paper as quickly as her hands would take it. But, even with shortcuts in her words, she got overwhelmed quickly.

"Wait," She interrupted. Her fingers stopped in their tracks, finally getting a moment's break. "Can you– Can you go slower? It's hard to understand you when I'm tired." As if on cue, Talia's mouth stretched open in a long yawn.

Ra's' eyebrows rose, "You've heard this story probably almost 100 times considering how much you used to request it. If you seriously can't comprehend its contents after hearing it over and over again, then frankly, I should take you to a doctor for that condition." A gentle frown pressed on his lips as his eyes narrowed, concerned. "I'm not speaking particularly fast, Talia."

"No, no, I can hear fine!" Talia took the one hand that wasn't holding her pencil out from the blanket, raising her palm in front of her head in a defensive gesture. She gulped. "I just need you to slow down a little, okay?" Slowly, she lowered her hand again, resting it back under the covers. Talia crossed her fingers, hoping.

"It would take so much longer then, Talia…." Ra's complained. He rolled his eyes for the third time. "You should be grateful I agreed to this in the first place, not requesting it waste more time than necessary…. On a mathematical level, even a small change in pace multiplied by the entire story's length will add up."

Talia considered this for a moment. She gulped and swallowed a few more times, visibly uncomfortable and unsure. Her eyes bounced from her story –still so short and nowhere near finished– back to her father, who was still frowning at her with a lack of approval. She clinged to the papers protectively, but her father's frown made her pout.

"What if it wasn't for the full story?" Suddenly, her eyes lit up with realization.

"That's an… odd request," Ra's remarked. He tapped his fingers against his lap, thinking quite skeptically. His eyes glanced over to Talia's blanket, with its abnormal puffs around the notebook. Talia gulped another time. Ra's slowly leaned backward, seemingly backing off, though. "What, specifically, were you thinking?"

"Could you go slower for the first half of the story?" Talia suggested, smiling softly. Her smile gradually increased the more she spoke. "Or even slightly less than that, but I just… I want to comprehend the first part well, at least."

Ra's' eyebrows rose even more, curious, but also slightly suspicious. Although he took one more look at Talia's blanket, she had already subtly fixed it so seeing the notebook was impossible. Or, at the very least, it looked mostly natural– the notebook was still under there, pushing the blanket up the tiniest bit. Still, it settled Ra's down. He tapped his fingers against his lap a few more times, but then sighed.

"...Fine,"

Talia smiled even fuller, silently cheering to herself.

Ra's went back to his story, this time at a sufficiently slower, more manageable pace. It still took some rushing on Talia's part to scribble down the words she wanted to write in only the time of his speech, but unlike before, it was certainly possible. Ra's went on and on, with this behavior continuing, until they reached Sora's death.

Talia's hand immediately froze in place. Her eyes widened, just the slightest bit. She bit her lip.

It was her story. In her story, nothing destroyed the beauty of the past. In her story, Sora didn't die, and her father kept his sanity –and most importantly, his kindness– safe in his heart. She pulled her pencil right off the paper, as if mentally throwing the concept of such a catastrophe away. With her other hand, she even closed the notebook fully, slamming the cover down. But she hesitated to put away the pencil, as well, holding it on it for a few moments.

Talia slowly, gradually opened the notebook back up. In it, her hand gently began to trace letters out, until she'd formed a single sentence.

'Sora was safe.'

It was such a dumb line. It had no context, no reasoning– not to mention undeniably bland writing. It was pointless. But, Talia could technically attempt to give it context, at least once her father was finished and she was left alone to do what she pleased. All she knew was that she had to make it work, to keep it written there. All she knew was that her hand wouldn't let her flip the pencil around and erase it, even if she wanted to.

All she knew was that this line was making her smile.

Now, Talia easily put the notebook a few inches away and paused her writing. Ra's went on with the bedtime story, of course, but Talia wasn't paying the slightest bit of attention anymore. She flopped herself flat on to her bed, resting. Her eyes were shut, letting her yawn drowsily.

After 10 minutes, Ra's came to a pause in his story. He wasn't quite done yet, but nearing it, as he'd just finished the murder of everyone on the mountain. Regardless, he'd noticed how Talia didn't stir in the slightest. Her eyes shut so tight, and her body all snuggled up under the blanket, she appeared completely knocked out. Ra's took a breath, gazing down at the scene.

"Good night," He said. He swiftly pushed himself up from his seat, smiling in the tiniest, almost unnoticeable way. Ra's quickly walked out, gently swinging the door shut behind himself. Even from her cuddled up position, Talia heard her father's firm footsteps trodding off into the distance.

Truly in full consciousness, she shot upwards, grabbing the notebook in the same motion. A small smile rested on her face.

First, she spent a couple minutes editing her pre-existing story. It had a ton of mistakes, when it came to grammar, spelling, or in some cases, both, due to her frantically fast writing. Immediately recognizing mistake after mistake, Talia smudged her eraser over each one, leaving faded graphite messy at the edges. By the time she was done, not only smudges were cluttering her writing, but also tons upon tons of tiny eraser bits, sprinkled over the papers.

Talia's eyebrows lowered, eyeing the bits with frustration. With a small frown, she began to clean the bits off, flinging the papers around wildly and brushing her hand against them with rapid motion…. Only for her to realize she'd missed another mistake, and have to do more messy smudging, causing the whole process to repeat. Gradually, the initially small frown had turned into a full-on scowl of frustration.

Eventually, though, she had the whole thing edited and cleaned up as well as possible.

She quickly flipped to the most recent page, reading her single line to herself. Instantly, her frown disappeared, replaced with the same confidence smile she'd shown when first writing it. For no particular reason, Talia found herself repeating the words to herself over and over again, continuing to smile.

'Sora was safe.'

But why, exactly, would Sora be safe?

Talia knew, in real life, Sora was dead. She'd died a brutal death, and she'd died quite young, but Runce hadn't cared, and no one had been able to stop him. Talia knew that, with those real-life occurrences in consideration, her story would forever be ridiculous, no matter how much she treasured it. Talia knew that Sora had no reason to be safe, in that instant, because in reality– she had been about to die.

Perhaps she could say Runce snapped out of it. Perhaps she could make Runce that slightest bit kinder, and understand that the murdering of an innocent woman was horrid. It wasn't as if it would be realistic either way, but something about that felt off. Considering all the extents and moral lines Runce crossed later on, it was more than unrealistic– it was a laughable idea, to have that man be anything but awful.

Therefore, Talia continued brainstorming.

Next, she thought of her father saving Sora. Ra's hadn't been strong enough, in reality, but it was certainly something easy to change in her story. If he'd only been able to restrain Runce, then Sora would be, as the line stated, safe. Yet, it seemed all too unrealistic, too, as at this point, her father was not obsessed with his own strength and power– not the way he was now. He thought of knowledge and grace over that, and although he was not weak by any standards, being able to defeat Runce right after the Lazarus Pit's strength enhancements set in would take in an enormous amount of strength, especially without assistance.

The sultan's physician was not a body-builder, but a reader. It was still a much better idea than Runce's sudden reformation, but regardless, it was undoubtedly wrong. It seemed much more right that her father died protecting Sora than him succeeding in such.

Talia continued brainstorming.

The next thought that came into her head was to actually rewind a bit. She could have the entire scene of Sora's death not take place, starting with the Lazarus Pit's creation and all her father's promises of it happening. If Ra's hadn't tried to save Runce's life in the first place, then Sora would not have died. If her father had been less naive, then Sora would still be alive. If her father had only been less kind to Runce.

But this thought suddenly made her angry.

She gritted her teeth, harshly. She loved who her father used to be, naive or not. She wanted that man as her father, not the man who would give up a learning opportunity simply because an evil person might also benefit from it. It didn't matter that Sora was the price of that decision, along with his entire sanity, and that Runce blatantly would've deserved it, he wouldn't ever choose something else. Not in real life, but not in her story, either.

She slammed the pencil down at even the thought of changing who her father used to be. If he wouldn't deem every human worthy of life at all costs, what else might change? The concept made her shiver to the bone. No, she would not change his decision there, even if it meant not writing the story as a whole. Her father shall be granted the happy ending, not a 'less naive' stranger she happened to refer to by the same name.

So, even then, Talia continued brainstorming.

Her head drooped over, letting her back slunch. She stared at the nearly-empty page, narrowing her eyes in frustration. For a solid five minutes, no more ideas would pop into her head. It was feeling more and more impossible to complete this story, as nothing would ever make sense– it was a tragedy, and it wouldn't ever be anything but.

Sora, as much as she hated to admit it, was certainly not safe.

Talia flopped back on to her back, throwing the notebook out of her hands. She felt the soft mattress rubbing on her back with whatever amount of comfort it could bring. Her eyes felt almost paralyzed, staring up at the ceiling blankly. Talia laid with her legs and arms flailed outwards as if she were a starfish, floating around aimlessly without a single thought in her brain.

Except the thoughts of disappointment, and the thoughts of rage. A happy ending should be easy to get with some brief changes, and doom should not be inevitable. Hope, no matter how small the chance, should be there. She'd kept hope of the dream so long, for years, and this realization was not going to pull it out of her. But it made it feel so much less vivid, like it was miles away from reach as she grew older and thought it all out more thoroughly.

As she stared upwards, her body gently shifted in position. Talia pulled her arms in, laying them behind her head wistfully. They shifted around under there, pushing her head up further, until they suddenly felt something under her hair. It was hardly noticeable, but from memories, Talia knew what it was she was feeling.

Still existing from the punch incident, Talia had a large scar on her scalp.

This triggered an even stronger burst of anger in her eyes. Her breath became quicker, coming out in abrupt pumps instead of long puffs. That 'incident' shouldn't have happened. But it did happen, and based on her current struggle, it had no way not to. The thought of that felt physically heavy on her head.

Thoughts came stumbling out of her brain in a disordered formulation; Sora, Ra's, time, luck, decisions, tragedies… but most of all, the Lazarus Pit. She wouldn't have the scar if it wasn't for its existence, and its terrible side effects. The more she thought about it, her father would even be a better person if it weren't for it, as its subtly lasting mental effects never helped with his rage and lack of kindness. Every thought made her teeth rub against each other harder.

With abrupt raging force, Talia threw herself up from her pillow and jumped out of bed. She stuck her hand in the air, curling it into a fist with infuriation. Her feet seemed to stomp even faster than her body, carrying her closer to the door.

Despite it being the middle of the night, and the action being incredibly attention-catching, Talia felt the undying urge to march over to the Lazarus Pit and scream at it as loud as she could.

Of course, she stopped herself at the door, recognizing her stupidity, but it didn't stop her from wishing immensely that she could. In fact, she wished so hard that aggravated tears began to push at the corners of her eyes. Although Runce had started the whole corruption of her father's mind, he had gotten what he deserved for it, and the Lazarus Pit certainly hadn't. Her father still used it, and it was still succeeding in twisting everything worse by the second….

In the middle of that raging thought, though, Talia made a connection.

Runce, in the first place, would not have killed Sora without the Lazarus Pit to save him.

It seemed so obvious, now that she'd thought of it, but before, it seemed like the only thing to stop the Lazarus Pit was her father deciding who to test it on. Yet, Talia now realized that she did not need that. Not if the pit, itself, did not work. That way, Runce would stay dead, and no one else would be twisted in their very nature.

Instead of marching to the Lazarus pit, Talia marched back to her bed, sitting right down next to the notebook. She picked it back up, returning to her writing immediately. Her body leaned over the papers as her hand swung back and forth, pressing arrays of letters down as fast as she could. Her eyes went back to normal, and her breathing gradually began to calm down.

'Unfortunately, the Lazarus Pit didn't work. Runce died and although left his father sad, Sora was happy that he left her alone now.'

Happy. Sora was happy, therefore Ra's was likely happy.

Sora was safe.

The expression covering Talia's face transformed quickly, now reaching not just a lack of a snarl, but rather, a small smile. She had succeeded, even if it was simply a story. Her happy ending was real, and it was vivid again in her mind. The smile only grew by the second, covering her entire face with pure joy.

She quickly went back to work, writing the rest of the story with her rapid hands. Talia described a new kind of Lazarus device, but this time, insanity wasn't any kind of side effect, and only Sora and Ra's used it. They only grew more loving towards each other, instead of drifting further and further into no love at all like it sometimes appeared the Lazarus Pit could cause.

'Eventually, the couple had a child.'

… Or adopted a child, Talia corrected herself. It seemed more authentic that way, and she constantly longed for the vivid kind of story, even if it meant changing how, exactly, Ra's came to be her father. It didn't make much of a difference either way, she supposed.

Talia moved on from that line quickly, though, as she spoke of the bedtime stories that this child got every single night, with constant affection and love. But even more than that, she spoke of how the child was taught their morals– be kind, and do not murder the innocent, along with the child being free to do whatever they wanted with their own life.

At this point, Talia's smile had transformed into a big grin, filled with pure confidence and excitement. She was practically bouncing up and down on her bed, overjoyed and hyper. She threw her dark hair behind her, letting nothing block her sight of the story which was so quickly unfolding before her eyes. Her legs kicked in the air below her, as if kicking her forward in her writing.

In no time, she was finished. Talia shut her eyes for a moment, still smiling, before she joyfully wrote down the final line.

'And they all lived happily ever after.'

"Happily ever after," Talia repeated to herself, this time whispering it fully out loud. She was nodding as she spoke, cementing the words in her mind. Talia quickly ripped the story's pages out from the notebook, only to clip them back together with a paperclip. The stack felt thick between her fingers, yet thin at the same time. So simple, yet so beautiful.

"Happily. Ever. After." Talia whispered the words a second time to herself. She could still feel the previous tears itching at her cheeks, and she let them drip out, running down her cheeks quietly.

But, as they trailed around her wide smile, she quickly found they were not tears of rage like she'd felt originally; But of joy.

Talia hugged the story, letting a few more tears drip over her face. Her eyes were now squeezed shut, letting all the emotions of joy and accomplishment mix with her overpowering emotional longing take over. If only she could change history, and if only she could change her father back, she would do it without a second thought.

A single tear reached the top paper, leaving a dark, damp splotch on it.

Hardly noticing, Talia dropped down onto her bed, still clutching the story closely to her chest. After a moment, though, she pulled herself back up, gently letting go of the story. It felt so precious in her hands, like a billion-dollar ring that she couldn't lose on her life. Pulling out a drawer, Talia was careful as she set down the story and slowly closed to drawer back up to hide it. To protect it.

That night, with the story fresh in her memory, Talia slept better than she had in years.

[baticorngirl]

My brain is so overfilled with creative juices I can't sit down and write. By talos this can't be happening

[baticorngirl]

🌙📊 for the ask game!

Thanks for the ask!

🌙  What time of day do you prefer to write? Why?

I don't have a huge preference or anything, but I usually end up doing it in the evening or even full-on night. It just feels like by then I've had enough awake-time to get into a writing mindset. But honestly, if I start the day off right, mornings and early afternoons can work just as well.

📊 Current number of WIPs

Exactly 10. But it should also be noted that I'm including unposted abandoned ones in this count, so active ones are a substantially lower amount. Oh, and obviously, this is just my fanfic WIP count. I have plenty of fanart ones, too.

Ask me Fanfic Writer Questions!