#but please Bruce don’t forget your other son

[ambriel-angstwitch]

I love Bruce appreciating Duke

But sir aren’t you forgetting one of your sons?

Tim did not nearly get himself killed and get accused of being insane for you to completely forget about him.

Duke is Gothams best definitely but what about Tim? He saved you!

[happybunny999]

(Dangerous monster!) Neglected Omnipotent fem reader x Yandere Batfam

Prologue

-

Gotham….a place known for its crime, drugs, poverty, corruption, violence and vigilantes and villains and how people in the city know the rules. Keep head down,don’t get involved,and if you see a group of vigilantes or the Batman fighting someone you pretend you didn’t

But that didn’t matter to you at all because any normal person would be scared of Gotham but you weren’t normal not in the slightest in fact you are not fully human and not a normal 4 year old either since your mother is a powerful meta human with so, well almost every abilities you could think of and that if you try and named them all it would take years to describe them all

You took after both parents with your hair being one side pink and the other side black just like your eyes that you were told by your mother to hide since as she said that if people found out about my powers and how I looked they would hurt me and only show your face to people you trust and you believed her. how could you not?

Your mother is a kind, caring and beautiful woman who never use her powers outside the house and who you know had gotten lucky with the one and only Bruce Wayne aka the Batman and after just one night she had you and never told Bruce about you since he already had sons and daughters

And well Gotham was a city that was cruel an everyway which is why she always kept you close to her when ever you and her go out for groceries and the bare minimum and you were happy with that and your mom because despite her never talking about your father or his other children you still loved her because you could always play with her and she was the one who was there for you

But the happiness was cut short when the day she told you that she would be right back from the store and gave me a small smile and before leaving she told me something that you will never forget

“Sweetie I want to know that mommy will always love you and remember to please stay in control of your powers”

(That was the last time you would see and hear from her)

Because remember how you said that she had almost every ability….that excluded her ability to heal and reviving herself too(guess you must have gotten more power then her) so when she want out for food and got in the middle of a gang war by accident and the end result was her getting shot in the head and chest while you were sitting at home waiting for her until realizing that she was gone when a couple of police officers came to get you from your home and take you to the police station with you cry the whole time

After that you were sitting on a chair holding your plushie and your mother’s scarf as well as the cloak she made for you as a man called Jim Gordon comforted you and after running some test and they found out Bruce Wayne was your father you are taking to the manor where a butler was waiting for you and greeted you with a warm smile as you held his hand as he led you inside the manor

And so your new, terrible life began.



[such-expensive-mistakes]

Superpham AU (part 7)

Masterpost

A short one today, but I thought this section was funny (until it got sad again).

-----

It’s a quiet evening in the Lane-Kent household: Lois is trying to turn her notes into an article, Clark is going over Jon’s math homework, and Jon is watching a show Lois is only half-following.  It features lots of gunfire and explosions, though Lois’s— unfortunately extensive— experience with witnessing real violence makes the version on TV look cartoonish.  She suspects that is part of the show’s appeal.

Danny is paying about as much attention to the TV as Lois is, engrossed in something on his phone.  At least he’s in the same room as the rest of them, instead of sequestering himself away.

“Hey Lois?” Danny suddenly asks.

Lois looks up from her work.  “What’s up?”

“Did you know the internet thinks you’re Superman’s girlfriend?”

Lois knows that if she looks at Clark, he’ll be turning red, the way he always does whenever this particular subject comes up.  Lois herself is barely holding back a laugh.  Jon’s wrinkling his nose, looking thoroughly embarrassed by his parents.

“Well, I am,” she says, barely keeping herself composed.

“No, I mean—” Danny begins.

“You mean people say that I’m dating Superman and married to Clark?”  Lois glances at Clark, who is now hiding his face in his hands.  “Someone forgot to check for cameras after rescuing me a few years back, and we got caught kissing on film.  It was let people think Superman is a homewrecker or let them think I’m in a polyamorous relationship with my husband and his alter ego.”  

“That’s… really weird.”  Danny is giving her the kind of judgmental look only teenagers can give.  

Lois does laugh at that.  “It is, a bit.  But it helps protect Clark’s secret identity, so I don’t mind.”

“Don’t listen to her,” Clark finally says.  “There were other ways to handle that situation; she just thinks this is funny.”

“Even your parents think it’s funny,” Lois says.  Clark just sighs, faux-aggrieved.  

“It’s not even the weirdest thing on the internet about Superman,” Danny says.  “It’s just the weirdest thing everyone agrees is true.”

“Please do not tell me what else you’ve found,” Clark says.  

“You can tell me,” Lois says.  “We can just make Clark leave for a bit.”  Reading conspiracy theories about Superman is her guilty pleasure, though if anyone asks, she does it to keep tabs on anyone who might have a viable way of hurting him.  

Danny just laughs, and something in Lois’s chest seizes up.  Is this the first time she’s heard him laugh since he came back?  She thinks it might be.

She doesn’t want to call attention to it; like as not, that would just make him pull away again.  Instead she says, “Superman doesn’t even get the best conspiracy theories.  Those are all Batman.”  That’s because Bruce purposefully cultivates them, of course, but that’s not important.

“Which one is he, again?” Danny asks.  

It’s not that Lois ever forgets that Danny has spent most of his life in another dimension.  But little offhand comments like that… they really drive it home.  There are plenty of superheroes, even Justice League members, that most of the general public has never heard of— but Batman is not one of them.

She's saved from answering by Clark.

"You'll meet him eventually," Clark says.  "He's a good friend of mine.  And Jon and Kon are close to his two youngest sons, Robin and Red Robin."

Danny nods thoughtfully.  "Right.  I think Red Robin's in the group chat Kon added me to."

Lois reminds herself to thank Kon next time she sees him.  He and Danny seem to have connected, and Kon seems to have made it his personal mission to keep Danny from slipping too far into one of his funks again.

"Speaking of Kon," Clark begins.  "Ma and Pa want to know when we'll be able to make it to Smallville to visit."

They've been trying not to overwhelm Danny by introducing him to too many new people at once, but maybe that was the wrong choice.  Maybe they should be pushing him to get out more, to connect with this dimension.  Besides, Kon spends most of his time in Smallville, and they already know that he and Danny get along.

Lois re-evaluates the article she’s been working on.  Perry would probably appreciate it sooner rather than later, but if she turns in a smaller article this week, she can probably swing a weekend off.  If not, she can always work on it from Kansas.

“This weekend should work,” Lois says.  “If that’s alright with you, Danny.”

Danny looks a little surprised to be consulted.  “I— yeah, that works.  Not like I have anywhere else to be.”  He laughs a little, but the joke falls flat, and Lois resolves to double down on helping Danny connect with more people here in this dimension.

[celaenaeiln]

Bruce: *sees a motorcade come up on his right* *ignores*

Timmy in the back eying the group suspiciously: ….

*tapping on glass*

Dick: B, there’s someone tapping on my side.

Bruce: Don’t roll the window down they could be-

Dick: *already rolling the window down* *GASP* ROMMEY?! ROMMEY! ROMMEY!!

A 45 yr old grizzled man with a smoker’s voice, nicknamed Rommey by Dick: heya Dickie, how it’s going kiddo.

Dick: ROMMEY IM SO EXCITED TO SEE YOU AGAIN!

Another motorbiker with a full claw scar down his face: what about the rest of us, kid? Forget about us?

Dick: MANES! DERRICKA! IZZY!!

Derrick-I take down mercenaries for fun but let a kid I like call me DERRICKA-Rolan: You little shit, why’d we not hear from you after you fucked off to neverland huh?!

Isabella-what? Someone went missing? I had nothing to do with it, it’s total coincidence that I hated him-Hodges: Maybe he doesn’t like us, Der. That right, Dickie?

Dick: *flabbergasted* No!! It’s a long story! After I left I ran out of gas and then some girl crashed into my bike and sent it flying off the cliff but I dove off it first and then I had to walk to the nearest motel on bare feet because I gave her my shoes and then I met this half bear half man and I’ll be pleased to tell you that it was a beary bearable encounter once he got his bearings hahahahaha- *progressively climbing out of the car as the story goes on*

Bruce: Dick! Get back in the car! *having one hand on the steering wheel and grabbing the back of his shirt with the other to keep his wayward son from falling out*

Dick: Wait- *accidently twisting too far and nearly braining himself on the speeding asphalt*

Rommey: DICK!

Bruce: DICK!

Rommey, Derricka, Izzy, and Manes: *grabbing the front half to prevent Dick from becoming like two-face*

Bruce: *letting go of the wheel to grab Dick’s bottom half for the same reason*

Tim: *high pitched screaming from the back* DICK! Tₕₑ Wₕₑₑₗ! ₜₕₑ Wₕₑₑₗ!!!

Bruce: *struggling to pull his son in while the motorcade struggles to pull him out to sit on a bike thus leading to Dick hanging in limbo out the window of a car going 80mph on a freeway* GRAB THE WHEEL TIM

Tim: *sacrificing a few ribs on the edge of the front car seat* IM TRYING! I CANT REACH THE CRUISE CONTROL AND DONT LEAN BACK AND OH MY GOD SIGN POST! SIGN POST! THE POST! THE POSSSTTTTT!!!

Dick, Bruce, Tim, and motorcade: *furious screaming and shouting and panicking*

*2 hours later*

*Arriving at the manor*

Jason: damn what happened to you lot, you look like you went through hell and back.

Bruce and Tim: *drained, pale-faced, messy, sweating, and heaving*

Dick: *a curl of hair falling elegantly into his shining eyes* I just had the time of my life, Jay!

Jason who is well acquainted with Dick’s “Time of the life”s: ah. My condolences.

Tim: Never again. *flopping on the ground and cater-pilling his way up the stairs*

Damian: Father, this is such disgraceful attire! Fix yourself at once, mother would be embarrassed by such a visage! What in holy reincarnation have you been doing?!

Bruce: Never again, Dick.

Dick: it’s nothing Dami, they were just helping me.

Damian: Father, I am ashamed of you. Why must you devolve to such a state when you assist Grayson, he is perfectly capable of extraordinary feats without your input. I suggest you refrain from interfering with his success again.

Bruce:

Bruce: Damian, you-

Dick: Bruce. *smiling pleasantly*

Jason: *immediately sneaking off*

Bruce’s life momentarily flashing before his eyes: …..nothing. Go finish your homework. *trudging off to whine to Alfred about how no one’s gonna believe him*

Dick: *sincerely* what a great day! 😊

[1970sgothfreak]

The Forgotten Twin’s birthday part 4

Y/n/n- your nickname

Jon’s pov:

“I’ll see you later babe love you too” I said before hanging up the call, I smiled and blushed at the thought of me and y/n/n hanging out again!. I keep thinking about how the others had treated her, she mentioned how she didn’t know if she should accept their apology but I told her to stand her ground as it would be a better idea.

I got up and decided to get some food before heading out so I went downstairs seeing my dad and Conner there, he waved to me before going back on his phone and my dad was reading the paper…for some odd reason. I grabbed a glass of water and started to make a sandwich when I heard my dad place down the paper and clear his throat.

“So how are you and Y/n doing?”

“Oh we’re doing great actually! I can’t wait for her to come over and you meet her as my girlfriend this time”

“Well I’m glad your happy John”

“Yea…but she’s not..stupid Bruce…”

I froze after saying that hoping my father didn’t hear me say that but I looked over my shoulder and saw him looking at me with confusion, oh no…I messed up!.

“John what are you talking about..?”

“Well…”

~meanwhile~

Your pov:

Bruce has been nonstop trying to apologies to me, I’m on my breaking point and am shocked that he’s actually trying and was about to accept it until I heard him talking to a reporter and he mentioned how the family would be back to perfect soon… heh guess I was right.

I looked up from my book seeing him walk into the living room and rolled my eyes, he approached me and sat next to me.

“Y/n..”

“Bruce” I saw him pause when he heard me call him his name, good he deserves this pain. I placed my book down and looked up at him.

“What do you want this time”

“To apologise…I’m trying to make things right for us..”

“ no you’re trying to make things right for you so you look good in the press, I heard what you said to the reporter earlier, you aren’t genuine with this apology!” I stated slamming my hand down onto the table and stood up.

“ y/-“

“NO, YOU ARE NOT A GENUINE PERSON UNLESS IT BENEFITS YOU!..I DON’T DO THAT AND LETS NOT FORGET THE THAT THAT YOU AND YOUR SONS NEVER ACKNOWLEDGED ME!…. I have every right to not have you in my life when you never considered me apart of yours and I can promise you that when I graduate you and the boys will never… EVER see me again!”

I yelled while trying to control my emotions but I knew it wasn’t working when I felt my eyes water. I shoved past him and decided to go on a walk hoping it would calm me.

Bruce pov:

I winced as the manors doors slammed shut, I really messed up didn’t I. I stared at my hands not realising that someone was coming up behind me, I looked up and saw Clark looking at me with disappointment and maybe a hint of disgust.

“Clark? What are you doing here?”

“Wondering why the hell I found out from John that you were being a shit father! Bruce cmon… IGNORING YOUR KID?!?”

“You weren’t exactly a good dad either!” I stated back

“ you’re right but I learned and now I love those boys more than anything, you just didn’t care enough and that caused your relationship to fail” he said and that’s when reality finally set in… I lost my daughter all because I couldn’t…No I didn’t care enough about her.

…fuck

~a couple hours later~

No one’s pov:

You were sitting in an alleyway trying to finish your food without any interruption when your phone started to ring. You saw it was an unknown number but decided to pick it up.

“Hello? Who is this?”

“ hello my dear.. how are you?”

“M-mother…”

“ Yes it’s me… I-.. I heard what your father and brother did and my dear I want you to know you are always welcome back at the league”

“…Mother I…I know I am…please may I just think it over?”

“Of course take all the time you need I love you”

“I…I love you too mother”

The call ended and you stared at the phone, at least now you had two people who actually cared about you. The boys and Bruce were only sorry because they were called out but John and your mother loved you no matter what.

Ah shit…now you had a choice to make…

Join your mother and leave the boys or forgive them and see what happens?

What will you pick?

Taglist:

@batfamlover

@awalkingdisasterbi

@randobeetlehouse

@loxbbg

@harpy-space

@snowcatlove

@kiyomi-uchiha777

@burnaccsblog

@ur-local-brown-artist

@killerqueenduck

@tweetybomb

@knoxx-seresinbradshaw

@venomsvl

@ladyagagaslefttoe

@sem-blog245

@odinswarriorvalkyrie

@vanessa-boo

@burnaccsblog

@mxtokko

[anawrites3]

shsjjdjdjd can i ask about all of them? 😂 no, i won’t do that to you :P

can i ask about “spoiled brat” and “still a good boy”?

soooo many intriguing titles tho 👀

You could actually lmao I certainly wouldn't mind!! 😂💕 I love talking about my wips haha so if you have any following questions or just wanna know about some other wips please feel free to ask!

Alright so "Spoiled brat" it a story where Slade is Dick’s bodyguard! Dick is being targeted a lot because he’s the first son of billionaire Bruce Wayne and people keep wanting to get ransom for him so Bruce hired Deathstroke to protect him.

Slade doesn’t often take on bodyguard contracts because he rarely feels like babysitting some brat but Wayne is paying him a lot (and/or maybe he’s a mafia boss that runs whole Gotham from underground so Slade can’t really tell him no because Bruce is his returning customer – I haven’t decided yet lmao) And the thing is, Slade just wants to do his job. But Dick finds him very attractive and he’s not used to people telling him no so he does everything to get into pants.

(Spoiler: Slade wants to fuck him so badly and to finally put him in his place but he doesn't think Wayne would appreciate it.)

(Spoiler spoiler: He does it anyway ;)

Snippet!

The kid was an image of debauchery. With his shirt opened like this, Slade was able to see his rosy nipples, perked up against the cold wind of the night. His neck was littered with marks and hickeys, pink lips slightly swollen from biting down on it and glistening with saliva. Slade watched the way Grayson reached up to ran his fingers through his hair, as if it would somehow help with how messy they already were – as if someone was tugging at it with no care how the kid would look afterwards. Slade kept his face carefully blank as Grayson pushed himself away from the stone wall of the building and walked over to him, not stopping until their faces were inches apart. His breath smelled like whiskey. “Like what you see?” He purred out. His hand rested against Slade’s chest and Slade eyed it shortly before looking at the brat again. Grayson smirked. “I could show you something you would never forget, sweetheart. You don’t need to keep pretending you don’t want to fuck me.” Slade didn’t react in any way. “Your father won’t be happy about your behavior today.” He stated dryly. Grayson’s smile sharpened into something wild. “Oh?” He slid his hand down Slade’s chest, towards the knife sheathed by his hip. Slade grabbed at his wrist before Grayson could touch it. “You gonna punish me then?” “I meant Wayne.” He sighed. “Get your ass in the limo, you’re going back home.” Grayson hummed, batting his eyelashes. “Can I suck you off on the way?” “No.” “You’re no fun.” The brat pursed his lips before smirking again. “I’ll get you to fuck me one day. You’ll see.” Slade shoved him towards the parked limousine.

And “Still a good boy” is apprentice Dick story :3 where Dick manages to escape after almost a year as Deathstroke’s apprentice. But no matter how much Dick hates it, all that time of being Renegade changed him and shaped him in the way Slade wanted. So even when Dick is back to working with good guys, the sight alone of Slade makes him feel things and he can’t resist himself when his masters gives him an order :3

Have a lil snippet for this one as well <3

“Robin!” Bruce hissed at him but Dick wasn’t able to move, wasn’t even able to look away. Slade smirked at him and there was something so pleased in the curve of his lips that warmth spread around Dick’s stomach because he was the one making Slade happy, he was- No. No, he wasn’t Slade’s apprentice anymore, he was no longer Renegade. He was Robin, he reminded himself, and he didn’t have to listen to any of Slade’s orders. Most of all, he didn’t want Slade to be pleased because of him. He didn’t want the man to be pleased at all, he wanted him behind bars where he belonged, he wanted- Dick’s breath stuttered as Slade reached out towards him, to gently tuck a strands of his hair behind his ear. “You’re still a good boy, aren’t you, kid?” He murmured, satisfaction almost dripping from his voice like honey. “Still eager to obey my every word, as if you never left, hm?” The words were already on Dick’s tongue, his body wanting to answer the question without his thought because Master always expected an answer when he asked a question when a body slammed into Slade’s side, pushing the man off his feet. Dick stayed on his knees, too shocked to do anything else as he watched Red Hood fight Deathstroke with all he got. Jason didn’t have his helmet on as if he got here in a rush and Dick was able to see the furious snarl on his face, as he slammed his fist into Slade’s jaw. Another second and Bruce was back at Dick’s side, helping him to his feet. “Let’s go.” Dick clenched his fingers on Bruce’s forearm and let him lead himself away but then- “Renegade!” Slade barked and Dick didn’t remember moving but suddenly he was covering his master’s blind spot and blocking a punch Jason tried to aim at Slade’s throat. Dick’s eyes met Jason’s, both frozen with shock at what just happened. “I’m-” he started, lips trembling. He didn’t mean to do that. He didn’t mean to move at all. “Jason, I didn’t-”

Post for the wip ask game here!

[lbjeff]

After learning that is a normal height in his family

Tim, Dick and Duke: jealous for his height

And because he look so mature for his age, the other Bat usually forget and flirt with him, only to be caught in his innocent eyes

Dick *flirting like a habit*: wow, you so tall and huge, like I could riding you all night and you don’t even sweat

He almost faint when realizing he just flirted with his brother’s teenage friend (aka his crush).

But Danny just answer casually: “You wanna try?”. And then PICK him up and let he sit on his arm like Dick has no weight. Dick refused to come down (Danny didn’t mind but the Batfamily is so concerned) because it feel so good and stable up there

Danny having a chat with Jason about a classic play, and in his excitement, he act Jason’s favorite scene:

Danny *with his masculine form, handsome face and bright eyes of youth, knees one leg in front of Jason, holding his hand and look right through his eyes to meet his soul*: My king! You’re are the only one that lead us to the victory! Believe in your choice, because your words is my guide. I just ask for one mercy, one promise that life and death, strong of weakness, peace or war, nothing could come between us

Jason *be caught in Danny’s charm and forget reality*: yes, yes i do

And the Batfamily who witness this scenario is so confused, it almost like a proposal.

Tim at first find it amused that his older brothers both have crisis about crushing on Damian’s teenager crush. Then he found out Danny is such a caring, sassy and smart guy. He prepare coffee for Tim, asking to massage his head when seeing Tim’s tired, matching Tim’s ideas in almost everything and solving Tim’s problems in design new devices. And now Tim as the same way of his brothers, having crisis for crushing a teenager who built like a real husband material

Damian when he find out that his brothers are his rivals? He’s not so pleased

Bruce when he know all his sons having a hot for a teenager, whom also built like a tank, same ages as his youngest, have blue puppies eyes and black hair? He will welcome him into family as a son, he just need to adopt him first

Alfred? He has to prepare a plan for engaged party, adopt papers and Batfamily’s doctor contact in a speed dial

A Catfish??

All of the bat children are horrified when they found out the boy Damian has been talking online, someone they were expecting to be a 5’3 twig. Someone who Damian has been crushing on for years turned out to be a 6’3 muscle-bound fucker that makes Jason look small.

They are even more horrified when they realized they never gave Damian the internet talk and for some reason Bruce is not reacting like this is something of concern and what the fuck-?!

The reason Bruce is not freaking out like the rest of his kids is quite simple.

He can see the last of the baby fat clinging to Danny’s face, he notices how even though Danny is a walking tank of a being, he still glances at the doorways like they could not be trusted.

Like he wasn’t used to his height.

No Bruce is not concerned, because all signs and research just points to one fact.

Danny Fenton has came into a Fenton-sized growth spurt.

[bluejaysandblackbats]

The Spin Out

Fandom: Batman, DC Comics

Summary: Jason Todd returns to Gotham after three years for the final time to win enough money to pay off Sheila’s debts.

Chapters: 8/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Sheila Haywood, Original Character(s), Bruce Wayne

Relationships: Jason Todd/Original Character

Additional Tags: Street Racing AU, No Capes AU, Jason Todd-centric, Hurt Jason Todd, Bad Parent Sheila Haywood, Bruce Wayne Tries to Be a Good Parent, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Communicating, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Feelings, Hurt/Comfort, Organized Crime, Jason Todd has Trust Issues, Jason Todd is Not Okay, Good Person Jason Todd, Stalker Bruce Wayne, Secret Identities, Secrets, Angst

Chapter Eight: Bumper Cars

Jason fell asleep on the daybed in Jeremy’s son, Ethan’s room after dinner. The smaller children, Mason and Lindsay slept there next to him, his leg hanging off the edge of the bed. Miranda crept into the room to drape a blanket over him. Ethan sat on the opposite side of the room with his headphones plugged into the keyboard while he practiced. Miranda crouched in front of him, removing one earbud gently. “How are things going with your cousin?” Miranda asked. 

“He’s cool… Does he really have to leave at the end of the summer?” Ethan asked. Miranda sighed as she sat beside him, staring at the daybed on the other side of the room. “He doesn’t—.” Miranda shushed him. “He doesn’t seem happy.” 

Miranda frowned. “Well, Ethan, we can’t force things to be different. We can only look out for each other,” Miranda whispered, “We should keep looking after Jason… Keep letting him know how much we all like him.”

Ethan sighed. “Is he in trouble?” Ethan asked. 

“I don’t know,” Miranda replied. 

“Feels like he should’ve been here with us… I know that sounds weird, but we all like him. Seems like he likes us, too,” Ethan replied. 

“Does it bother you that he’ll only be here for the summer?” Miranda questioned. Ethan shrugged. 

**

Jason woke up to his phone vibrating in his pocket. He gently slipped his arms from underneath Mason and Lindsay’s backs before picking up the phone. “Hello?” Jason asked. 

“Pô! Did you forget me?” Efigenia asked. 

“I didn’t forget you, Efi. How are you?” Jason questioned. 

“I’m fine. How’s life in the US?” Efigenia asked in reply.

“Um… I’m good. I was asleep, but I’m glad you woke me up. How’s my mom?” Jason replied. He sat up and gently climbed out of the daybed before stepping outside of Ethan’s room. 

“She’s good. I saw her a few days ago. She was a little bit busy, but she looked good,” Efigenia answered, “We had lunch.”

“Okay… Good. That’s good,” Jason whispered, “Thanks for looking in on my mom. I work late tomorrow night, but I’d like to talk to you again tomorrow morning. Um… Efi? You’re a good friend.” 

“Thanks,” Efigenia chuckled, “You’re a good friend, too. I miss you taking care of my car.” Jason laughed. 

“Please show your brakes some love, Efi… I’ll try to text you before I go to bed,” Jason whispered, “Talk to you in a little while… Okay?” 

“Bye, friend,” Efigenia replied before hanging up. 

Jason stretched out as he left the room, and he stopped in the living room. “Alright, I’m gonna head out. This was a lot of fun, and I hope we can do this again next week. Maybe next time I’ll cook,” Jason offered as he leaned forward and hugged Miranda. 

“It was so nice to finally meet you, Jason,” Miranda smiled. 

Jason hugged Jeremy. “Thanks for cooking, Uncle Jeremy,” Jason whispered. 

“No problem. I saved you an extra plate in the fridge. We’re gonna have to keep the brownies, though,” Jeremy laughed. Jason shook his head and smiled. 

“Glad you liked them, Uncle Jeremy. Where’s Ethan?” Jason asked. “I wanted to say goodbye to him before I go.”

“Kitchen,” Miranda answered. Jason thanked her before heading to the kitchen to say goodbye and grab his plate. 

“Hey, Jason… Getting ready to go?” Ethan asked. 

“Yeah… I have to work late tomorrow night… But um—. Thanks for being so cool, Ethan. And don’t worry. I’ll convince Auntie Miranda to let me take you for a spin on my bike,” Jason whispered. Ethan frowned. 

“You should text me sometimes… It’s not good to be alone,” Ethan whispered. Jason nodded. 

**

Friday night came along and Jason met his boss at the shop to pick up the Hellcat. A sleek black 2015 Dodge that he had his eyes on. He looked it over, checking the brakes, the tire pressure, filling the tank, and finally, he looked under the hood. Honey was there. She looked nervous. Jason squinted at her before pulling his ski mask down. “Hi, Honey,” Jason whispered as he slipped on a pair of driving gloves. 

“You didn’t tell me you raced,” Honey whispered. 

“I didn’t think you were involved in this… Are you my co-driver?” Jason asked. She nodded. “Good. I was worried they were gonna stick me with Kevin. I can’t race with a co-driver that’s scared for me to drive.” 

Honey smiled, and Jason leaned close. “What’s got you stressed?” Jason asked. 

“Did she tell you how big this race is?” Honey asked. Jason shook his head. “She’s only betting five, but there are a lot of mafia guys who already have their bets on a well-known guy… Rumor has it that some celebrities are showing their faces tonight. Losing this one could—.”

“I don’t lose,” Jason whispered, “And I have no plans on embarrassing our boss.” 

** 

Jason took a hard left. “The stay-at-home dad in my blindspot… Matte black. What’s he doing? Trying to kill somebody? We’re not playing bumper cars, Honey,” Jason stated. 

“That’s Wesker. The car is Scarface. The guy’s as vanilla as it gets, but he says the car has a mind of its own. He’s not right in the head, Michael. Just drive,” Honey answered, “You know these streets pretty well for a new guy.” 

“I didn’t say I was new to Gotham. I need you because you know some of these new guys,” Jason replied. 

“You’re not even nineteen yet. How long have you been racing?” Honey questioned. 

“Four or five years… I learned to drive a stick back when I was seven and a—. I’m about to drift right—.”

“But you need to take a left up—.”

“I know. Just watch,” Jason replied. Honey gripped the grab handle and let Jason drift right, causing the cars in his blind to swerve out before whipping around and putting the car in reverse to flip them off. Honey started laughing. “You trust me, Honey?” 

She hooted. “You’re one hell of a driver, Michael,” Honey commended him. Jason half-grinned under his ski mask before whipping around hard and finishing the last leg of the race. Honey grabbed Jason’s shirt and shook him as they celebrated, but Jason saw a face on the sidelines that made him lose his nerve, and he turned off toward the freeway. “You don’t wanna stop and celebrate?”

“I saw someone I used to know in the crowd. It’s a long story,” Jason replied, “I wanna drop the car off and get a bite to eat. Do you wanna come with me?”

“Sure,” Honey smiled, “You’re one hell of a driver, kiddo.”

“Thanks,” Jason replied, but his mind was heavy with the thought of the familiar face in the crowd. What was he doing there? Did he know? How many years must he have come to watch the races wondering when Jason would return? It made Jason’s stomach turn. Jason took Honey straight to Zamora’s. He took off the gloves and the mask, and he picked his phone up from the lockbox to order pizza. 

“Who did you see?” Honey asked.

“My dad,” Jason replied, “And even if you guessed who he was, I wouldn’t tell you.” 

“Okay… That’s personal. We don’t have to share anything personal… Do you like to do this?” Honey asked. 

“I always feel like I hate it until I get behind the wheel. Makes me feel alive,” Jason answered, “And I have to keep winning if I wanna live long enough to make it home.” 

“Are you mixed in—?”

“Not with Zamora. Not here,” Jason replied, “It’s a long story.” A lot of those… Long stories.

[twistpixel]

SIGHhhhh I just feel so bad about Jason is da jorkers son because like I guess we don’t need to stick with the first ditf version but that jorker literally just like. Lost his temper and made an uh oh. He had too much fun and freaked it and freaked himself out. That scene in Conan when Thulsa Doom says “I’m your daddy” and Conan just slits his throat and then hacks off his head and chucks it down the stairs. If anyone is made by the jorker in this way, had his life ripped apart by the jokes in this way like Duke is there. Dukes parents. But they went duke’s bio dad is gnomon and all that instead. And like, ditf did happen and it was awful obviously obviously and a person is more than and isn’t predetermined by their ACE score but like both things can be shaping him but it feels like the focus is just on the one and forgetting about the other. It’s like because there’s ambiguity about how willis treated him people don’t wanna touch Jason’s childhood trauma as much but dick and Bruce get to wallow why can’t Jason wallow. Regardless of how you think willis treated him he wasn’t there for Jason and it was awful. Like you are shaped by how you grew up PLUS I think Jason should and could reject any and all “jokes and bats are my mom and dad” thing. because I personally find it gross. Like jorker can try but Jason is just like 😑🙄😴🤨 about it. Please. Please please please

[stoptellinglieslois]

Principal of pleasure part 6

Clark & Dick are at the cabin and spending the weekend enjoying the morning after. 

Superman x Nightwing pairing

Dick

The smell of bacon and eggs slowly woke me up I didn’t move myself to much my ass hurt so much we did it all night long like we we’re in heat.

I turned slowly to see Clark watching me from the small stove frying breakfast he had a sexy smile on his face.

I have never seen him sport that kind of smile before in my life and it was directed towards me.

Sunlight illuminated him like a god of the sky he didn’t have any clothes on it is Saturday morning and the sun decided to show itself after all this crazy snow fall. I moved slowly and went for my bag on the floor not trying to do sudden movements because I’m so sore.

I went through it and found my cell I turned it back on and the messages and calls swarmed my inbox.

One message from Jason telling me how I was doing and that he will see me sometime this week.

The other messages are from Damian and they are all voice mail what did he want ? I put the phone to my ear.

I clicked on the first message. “Grayson where are you I called you seven times why are you not picking up the phone.” I was kinda put off guard he sounded so worried and anxious. 

I click on the next message. “Hey Grayson call me when you get this message.” And it ended like that and he sent me ten others like this.

I turned and Clark was still looking at me this time a curious expression on his face. “Morning I’m just gonna wash up.” I said to him he smiled and turned back to the stove.

I already had nothing on so I hopped in the tube I turned the water on and it was ice cold I yelled at the first spray of icy cold water to touch my skin. I heard a warm jovial laugh as the cream colour shower curtain shielded me from the source of the laughter. 

The water adjusted itself to a warmer temperature and I relaxed under its spray.

I thought about Damian’s voice mail I wanted to text him and tell him where I was but that would be dumb and I wasn’t gonna do that this was Bruce son. He had the same mind like Bruce the same instinct.

I remember Damian was watching us when were at Clark’s house last January, I could see his expression very intense and in thought watching us.

When he looked at me he reminded of Bruce when he saw something and wouldn’t put it down or let go for the life him. It was that made my stomach turn in knots.

Forget seeing too much for his young age Damian knows too much at his age to question me about this.

But I couldn’t possibly believe all that and assume he knows that’s crazy.

I washed up quickly and took a burgundy towel from my bag and dried myself off. Clark was still cooking putting bread in the toaster so that’s when I decided to text Damian.

{What’s up what do you want you left me a lot of message’s bro.} and as soon as I sent it my phone buzzed in my hand.  

{Where are you ?}

I answer him back he was acting suspicious and the knots came back in full swing.

{I’m at home)

(No your not I'm at your house)

What he’s crazy. 

{I don’t believe you take a picture.}

And he sent me a picture of the inside of my apartment and the knots tightened inside of me.  

{Just tell me how you're with please.}

I breathed hard and I turned away from Clark how’s back was turned, Busying himself with the food the sound of frying and the small coffee machine made the background noise more intensifying as I stood there in shock.

{Can I talked to you later.}

{No.}

{Damian why are on me like this just let me be ok I will call you later.} 

{What game are you playing Grayson.}

{I’m not playing any game I don’t play games ever.}

{Then what about Miss Gordon what about her then what will you tell.}

I needed to turn off the phone that will stop all the questions with Damian I couldn’t do this right now.

I sat on the bed and my cell fell on the floor cracked on impact by accident slipping out of my grasp.

A shift on the bed as it tipped to one side all I saw in front of me was a plate of bacon and eggs toast and coffee hovering in front of me I lost my appetite as soon as I saw the food I was to in shock of what Damian had just learned.

the end of part 6 next is part 7 

Thank you for reading

[nothnxpls]

I think I like this version more than the other. Like it has more angst potential. I hyper-focused a little bit more on tim, but that's because I like hime more ehehe

For example when Damian arrives at the Manor, (Assuming he arrives when tim is Robin) Bruce will compare Danny and Damian, even subconsciously. Like Danny and Jason got along fairly well, but Damian and Tim?

Damian is outright commiting acts of murder on Tim. And Bruce will compare this to how Danny was murdered by Damian. Like, Bruce, here is Damian trying to kill one of your sons right in front of you!

I mean he will probably try to overcompensate trying to raise and show love to Daimian, in fear of him running away like Danny when he feels unwanted.

And in doing so, maybe push Tim away. Because Damian is probably going away Scott free from his murder attempts. Like just imagine the confrontation between Tim and Bruce.

------

Tim looked at Bruce with a cold hard stare, so much familiarity in that gaze. "You would make him Robin? After what he did?"

“You would bring him here? After what he did?”

"Tim, I know this isn't ideal, but please listen to me Damian deserves a chance. He's been doing very well and he's improving his temper and moving in from the league mindset" Bruce didn't want to make the same mistake, but it felt like history would repeat itself.

"Son, I know this isn’t ideal, but please listen to me"

"Damian is not ready, he is dangerous! He tried to murder me and you don't care!"

"Damian is not in danger, he is the danger! He murdered me and you don’t care!”

"I know that I inserted myself in your life, and that you care and love him more than me, but that doesn't mean you can just take robin away"

“You—why—I can’t—you’ve only had me for a week, but you’ve already decided you love him more!”

Bruce felt terrible when Tim said that. He knew that he was prioritising Damian over Tim, but he didnt mean to alienate him. He care for both deeply and this is very difficult"I am sorry that you felt that way Tim. I didn't realised and I just tried to do right with Damian. I know things are rocky between you too, but Damian is my son-" and so are you was cut off.

“… Damian is my son.”

"I am not. I guess that matters alot huh"

“So is Danyal. Doesn’t he matter?”

"Tim, let me speak", if Tim will obly give Bruce a chance to explain.

"Forget it, forget this. Pretend I don't exist, just like Danyal. I'll even take all my belongings with me so you don't have to deal with that."

“I shall dispose of his belongings, then.”

And Tim storms off walking past Damian eavesdropping by the doorway, looking smugly at Tim. Damian probably felt vindicated knowing that Bruce regarded Damian as better, and Tim as not his son.

And while Damian was feeling very smug. He also feels terrified. Father knows about Danyal, and Damian has stayed long enough with his father to know that him killing Danyal would not be a good look on him. But at the same time if father already knew and ge still accepted Damian, then maybe he was in the same mind that Damian was superior.

"Father you knew about Danyal"

"Yes.. ."

"Then you know of how he was treated in the League and how it ended?"

"Yes, but you were young and you know better know"

"How do you know of Danyal?"

"He came to wayne Manor and lived with us for a week"

Just a week? How did Danyal only stay with father for only a week. Knowing Danyal's attitude and moral, he is unfortunately more suited and better adopted to the vigilante lifestyle. Helpful. less likely to murder, and friendlier.

"How was Danyal then father? If you mind telling."

"He was 6, and he was sweet shy and always followed me like a shadow. He and Jason would hangout alot".

----

And during the conversation Damian will notice how regret, nostalgic and full of long Bruce will have when speaking of Danyal. And Damial will feel like he is competing against Danyal, someone who he taught beneath him and long gone, for his father's love. And like that is difficult. Being sompared to an idealised memory of what could have been. And Damian will probably feel resentful to Danny.

I feel like I have written Bruce a little bit more antagonistic, but I can't help that when he is technically, aside from Alfredo, the adult in the situation. But by making Bruce care verrrryyyyy much, those paralleling words will literally haunt him.

Anyways I just want everyone to be a bit more miserable. And like my thoughts after this is that. Maybe Jason found Tim's investigations notes of Danyal and Tim founds out where Danny lives and Jason reaches out to Danny. And they get a cute reunion, without Bruce or Damian. If it's still a no contact situation.

Cause I also personally agree, that sometimes when Danny basically immediately forgives Damian for murdering him is a little bleghhhhh and🤨. But that it for me.

But wait!!! To make this even more juicy I want Tim to be immediately be attack by Jason in the Tittans Tower, when he leaves Bruce. Like Bruce will actually get a heart attack when he sees how close to death tim was.

the reunion will happen afterwards maybe. Or maybe this incident will turn Danny away from Jason too

Rejection

Ao3

Summary: In a world where Danyal al Ghul is resurrected by his mother after his death, the child turns down the idea of going with his biological father, the feared Batman.

In this one, he doesn't.

Most things don't change. Unfortunately, some do.

A what-if scenario from my dannymay entry "Reflection".

-

Look, I don't actually hate Damian, but I stumbled upon far too many "Danny forgives his abuser/murderer because he was just a kid and forgiving us good and siblings must stick together 4evr 🥺 uwu" and fuck that noise, I say as an abused sibling.

in the first part of this series, Danyal wondered what would have happened had he gone to Batman when he arrived to the USA

here we find out 3:)

- - -

Bruce watched his sons go with a smile on his face when Danyal finally reached out and held Jason’s offered hand.

It was a victory, for Danyal to see that his brother wasn’t out to get him, that he didn’t intend to harm him.

That his brother wouldn’t kill him.

The smile slipped from Bruce’s face, and the detective found himself cursing Ra’s al Ghul yet again.

- - -

Danyal had arrived at the Batcave in the middle of the night whilst Batman and Robin were in the middle of patrol, and introduced himself to Alfred as Batman’s son. His words, his face and his eyes quickly had the vigilantes returning home.

Talia’s nose, Bruce’s chin still full of baby fat, Talia’s soft hair, almost like silk… Martha Wayne’s blue eyes.

Bruce had frozen mid-step when he saw him, so small , with clothes that didn’t fit him and only a small backpack on his tired little shoulders. And when the boy’s eyes –Martha’s same blue – landed on him, a myriad of emotions passed through them, almost too fast for the detective to read them: awe, fear, hope, relief… and when he spotted Robin, the fear came back, wariness, unease…

His Jason, in spite of growing quick to anger as of late, was still good with younger kids, and agreed to leave him alone with only some minor grumbling.

Once alone, the boy stood straight again, hands clasped behind his back and chin lifted up proudly even as he swam in his clothes. (So small.) His eyes, though, didn’t meet Bruce’s, and instead settled on his chin.

“Hello, my name is Danyal al Ghul, son of Talia al Ghul…” He paused for a second, but then carried on, “and of the Batman.”

“I see.” Bruce barely managed to get out past the lump of emotion clogging his throat.

“I… mother and I have decided that Nanda Parbat and the League of Shadows is no longer safe for me,” his voice wobbled and broke and they both pretended it didn’t, “so she sent me here with you, if—if you will take me.”

Bruce breached the distance between them and knelt in front of his son with measured, projected movements.

“Danyal,” he said at last, “can I hug you?”

With a stunned expression, his son stiffly nodded, and just as slowly, Bruce wrapped his arms around him, tugging him towards his chest and feeling Danyal tentatively wrap his tiny arms as far as he could reach in turn.

“Danyal, what happened? Why now, at last, did your mother send you to me?”

“… I was murdered by Damian al Ghul—son of Talia al Ghul, grandson of Ra’s al Ghul and Heir of the Demon’s Head… my—my twin brother.”

- - -

It was always a challenge to track down the League’s movements and status, but not one Bruce ever cowered from.

Talia’s latest movements weren’t impossible to track, if you knew what you were looking at.

Places she hadn’t gone to in a long time, where he knew she had caches of valuables, money, safe-houses and the necessary means to disappear.

He could almost see her helping Danyal along, guiding him long enough to know he could make it to Gotham, until her father turned his eyes towards her once again, questioning her actions.

He searched further, from everything from the past seven years, to what they were currently doing.

He wished he could leave the country to have a more hands-on approach with the ever elusive League, but with Danyal only really relaxing—feeling safe— when Bruce was present, he had barely even left to go on patrol.

Despite their tense start, Bruce was grateful for Jason, from his acceptance of the paused patrols, his patience with Danyal, his understanding of the smaller boy’s situation, and his genuine desire to connect with him and be a good big brother.

It was a relief to Bruce, as a father, to see the anger that had been growing more and more in him be tampered down, easily put aside by his kindness, his gentleness.

- - -

“Do you like reading?”

Jason asked, smiling from his upside-down position in the couch on Bruce’s studio, where the man was working on police cases while he couldn’t go out and be Batman.

Danyal was glued to Bruce’s side, having been assured that it was okay for him to do so, was welcome, even, and he looked at his father from his periphery, gauging his reaction.

When he got a curious lifting of an eyebrow, Danyal frowned and his focus returned to Jason. “I don’t know.” He seemed pained to admit it.

Jason, though, didn’t let that put a damper in his plan, and beamed at the kid instead. “Wanna find out if you like children’s tales?”

This time, Danyal did turn his head towards Bruce, just a little, and the small frown on his face showed he was having difficulty deciphering Jason’s statement.

With an indulgent smile, Bruce carded his fingers through his youngest’s fluffy hair, feeling the kid relax under the touch.

“Jason is a fan of reading,” he explained, “and he’s trying to see if you two have that in common, and you just don’t know it yet.” Jason smiled and nodded, as much as he could in his position. “But mostly, he wants to share something he loves with you.”

“Oh.” Understanding dawned on Danyal. “Uh, okay.”

Jason’s smile turned radiant, and he jumped from his spot, closing his eyes and gripping the back of the couch as the world straightened, but said with joy anyway, “I’ll be back in a second!”, and ran out of the room, no doubt towards their library.

Once the older boy was gone, Danyal finally turned towards him, glaring at the bookshelf behind them. He clenched and unclenched his chubby fist a few times, clearly thinking hard. Bruce had learned by now that it was best for him to let Danyal take his time—unlike Jason, who typically had to be encouraged into revealing his feelings.

“Father, I have only ever read academic and pedagogic papers, what if I don’t like what Jason loves?”

Bruce cupped Danyal’s cheek with one hand, a victory in his heart when his son leaned into the touch, when two days ago he had startled. “Did you love all the academic papers you read?”

After a second of thought, Danyal confessed, “I don’t know. I enjoyed the ones about astronomy, the other ones… not nearly as much.”

“Hmm. Then maybe you will like this better, or you won’t, and you can try to find something you do, Jason has a big collection, and the library is even bigger, I’m sure he’ll like to help you find out, if you allow him. But tell me, do you want to find out if you like fantasy and fairy tales better than academic texts?”

Danyal did stop to think about it, and then a spark of defiance entered his blue eyes, a small rebellion compared to what he had already done, but a rebellion nonetheless.

Bruce ever-active detective mind could tell his son was thinking of Ra’s, of his sure disapproval for such a frivolous topic, and felt his heart fill with pride when his son replied, rocking his whole body in a nod.

“Yes, I want to find out.”

When Jason returned, it was with his arms full of books, almost toppling over his hold.

“I got some variety here!” He put half of them on Bruce’s desk, closer to their father than to his little brother, and went back to his seat across from the room. “Got two copies of each one so you can have your own! You get to choose what to start with!”

Bruce spread the books out on his desk, over his paperwork, to let Danyal see the titles and covers.

“How about this one?” He suggested, pointing at one title in particular.

Jason, though, glared at him. “Danyal gets to choose.”

Bruce winked at him, but Jason’s frown only really abated when his little brother asked him, “What is The Little Prince about?”

And, in spite of the physical distance Jason respected, Bruce got to see his children grow closer.

- - -

Now here he was, down in the Cave, pouring over strategies on how to infiltrate one of the most guarded places on earth to rescue his son, get him out, and not allow the League to ever lay hands on either of the twins again.

“They made him a killer.” He lamented when Alfred approached to hand him another mug of coffee. “They’re only six… if only Talia had told me…” He massages his temples and closes his eyes, the map of Nanda Parbat burnt in his eyelids while he imagined a world where he got to raise both kids since infancy.

“The past is rarely what we want it to be, Master Bruce, we can only hope to influence the present so as to have a better future.” Alfred told him, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder before taking his leave.

“If Damian is given the opportunity,” he muttered after a long moment of silence, drumming his fingers on the desk, “what kind of person would he become?”

“You would bring him here? After what he did?”

Bruce felt a stone drop in his stomach and he turned around to be met with Danyal, his sweet and shy youngest son, already clad in his star-themed pyjamas, staring him down even as he had to tilt his chin up to look him in the eye.

Straight in the eyes, instead of his chin or the bridge of his nose, where he felt safe looking in his shyness or nerves. Right now, his gaze was cold, a cold so great it burned you.

His tiny fists, clenched at his sides, were shaking, thumping against his thighs. If it was in rage or in fear, he couldn’t tell; both, possibly.

“Danyal.” He breathed out softly, carefully relaxing his posture and letting his hands fall palms-out by his sides. “Son, I know this isn’t ideal, but please listen to me, what Ra’s did to you is monstrous, to both of you; you are both just children…

“I promise I will keep you safe, and won’t let anyone hurt you, but I have to get your brother out of there, too, he’s not safe there. He’s only a child, Danyal, I can’t just leave him there.”

“Damian is not in danger, he is the danger! He murdered me and you don’t care!”

“Of course I do, if there was anything I could do to change it, to fix it, I would, but all I can do now is try to prevent it from happening again, to either of you; your brother is just a child too, who wasn’t taught any better-”

“ I knew better! I didn’t kill him !” Danyal screamed. His chest was heaving with laboured breaths, and his eyes shone with tears ready to fall. One of his hands went up to fist in his hair, tugging on it, and Bruce internally winced, trying to keep it off his face. “You—why—I can’t—you’ve only had me for a week, but you’ve already decided you love him more!”

Bruce had stood up, at the beginning of this, with measured movements, and now approached his youngest son the same way, with his hands spread out and taking a short step.

The only one he managed to take, before Danyal flinched back from him, eyes wide and afraid, sobs cutting short.

It was as if he had been stabbed in the gut, with the way he suddenly couldn’t breathe and how his knees would no longer hold his body and left him prostrated before his flesh and blood.

“Please, son, listen,” but the boy didn’t, instead bolting for the lift, almost falling into it when it opened, and leaving the cave with tears falling down his face, “Danyal!” Bruce called after him, watching him go.

And as he had sank into the floor, Bruce sank his head in his hands.

When he had regained enough of his composure, Bruce went back up into the manor, resolute in talking to his youngest. He was met, instead, with his second’s glare and anger.

“What did you do to Danyal?” Jason’s arms were crossed in front of his chest, his knuckles white and his blue gaze cold.

Bruce really didn’t like the sense of déjà vu he was getting.

“Not now, Jason, I have to talk with your brother.” He tried to go past him, but his son wasn’t budging. “Jason, move .”

“Why? So that you can go and make him cry more ?” He spat on his face, making Bruce flinch.

“Move aside, Jason, that’s an order.”

Changing his stance, Jason was no longer an unmoving wall, but someone prepared to dodge a blow. It was just as bad as with Danyal flinching back from him, even if this time he didn’t let his body fail him.

“Make me.”

“Jason,” he pleaded, “I have to fix things with your brother.”

“How? Breaking down his door? Barging in through his window? He locked himself in, he won’t even say a thing to me!”

And that obviously hurt Jason, who had adored his little brother the moment he knew about him, and for whom he had worked so hard in earning his trust, step by small step.

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing like the weight of the world was on his shoulders.

“I need to make things right, son.”

“Then think of how you’re gonna do that first!”

And with that, Jason marched off to Danyal’s door, sitting down to keep watch against their father.

-

Jason didn’t barge in through Danyal’s window, he knocked on the windowpane first, and waited patiently for his baby brother to decide to let him in himself.

“Hey, buddy,” he started, looking at the boy’s red and swelling eyes, knowing he had cried himself to sleep, “you haven’t touched the food Alfie left ya, and you gotta eat if you wanna grow up strong.” He handed Danyal the lunchbox he had brought with him and continued. “I know my cooking isn’t as amazing as Alfie’s, but I think I’m okay.”

Danyal bit down on one of his sandwiches with a thoughtful face.

“It’s good.” He declared after swallowing.

Jason beamed at the praise, and hurried to offer the bottled juice he had brought as well. “It goes better with the sandwich than tap water!”

Danyal took it, and they sat down next to the wall, silent as Danyal ate.

“Thank you, Jason.” His little brother told him, handing him back the lunchbox.

“No problem.” There was another moment of silence, and Jason hated having to break it. “If you don’t wanna talk,” he started slowly, “about what happened with Bruce, you don’t have to; but, if you don’t wanna keep it in, you don’t have to do that either.”

Danyal obviously mulled it over, putting a hand on his nape and rubbing gently, and Jason waited, thinking of what could’ve happened and what he could say to it.

Maybe he should have expected it, knowing Bruce for years already, knowing Batman, but Danyal’s words still left him speechless.

“Father wants to bring Damian here.”

-

“Are you out of your fucking mind?! How could you even think it was a good idea?!”

“Jason, Damian is a kid who needs a better environment, not to be in the belly of the League of Assassins, he needs his family!”

“And Danyal? First Ra’s sacrifices him so that his chosen heir doesn’t grow weak , and now you sacrifice him so daddy’s littlest murderer can come and play house!”

“… Damian is my son.”

“So is Danyal. Doesn’t he matter?”

Alfred cut in with a harsh, worried look, “Sirs. Young Master Danyal is gone.”

The vigilantes turned as one to a worried Alfred, meeting his panic with theirs.

-

Everything fell apart so quickly after that.

They looked for Danyal, of course they did, but it was like his son was a ghost; he had only taken two extra changes of clothes—from the full wardrobe they had just gotten for him days ago—, some money in cash and some food they hadn’t seen him take from the kitchen.

He knew how to travel by himself, that was how he had gotten to Gotham in the first place, and even if he hadn’t wanted to use it, he had had infiltration training, knew how to not be noticed, how to look as if he fit in a place he wasn’t meant to be in.

He could have already left the continent, for all Bruce knew.

Not long after, Jason left for Ethiopia.

Him, who had a goal in mind other than leave this place , Bruce managed to track, reading his hurried movements and seeing, as well, another plot emerging around him, the jaws of danger closing on his son, who had walked into a trap as he looked for a good parent.

Batman arrived too late.

“Danyal is gone and Jason is dead.” His voice was rough with disuse, after having screamed in sorrow until his throat burned. “What could I even offer Damian if I could bring him here?”

Disappointment? Failure? Death?

Alfred didn’t answer him, but he didn’t expect him to. Whilst looking at Jason’s battered Robin suit inside the glass case, they knew there was no answer.

He allowed himself another short moment of sorrow, and then pulled himself together. He had work to do.

“If Ra’s finds out Danyal was here, he could look for him, he could find him.” He could have him killed again. “Outside the two of us, no one is to know that we even met him, that we knew he existed .”

“I shall dispose of his belongings, then.”

Bruce could hear the well-hidden pain in Alfred’s voice, but this had to be done, it was now the only thing he could do for Danyal.

Had his small son stayed, it would have been unavoidable for the League of Assassins to find out, but Bruce had been ready for that, ready to fight the Demon’s Head for his children, to make sure they were safe.

Now, though, he knew he couldn’t promise that. The safety of a warm home was not something he could provide, as a father.

All he could do was hope, against his paranoia and his instincts, that Danyal would survive out there, that he could live.

And all he had left, all he could do, was to keep on his crusade against crime, hoping a better world would treat his son kindly where he had failed.

- - -

and then Danyal meets an eccentric but loving ghost-obssessed family that adopts him and love him very much and don't dissect him because that tropes fucking bores me too fr

and if he ever meets Damian again and sees for himself he has changed for the better and regrets his actions, he still doesn't forgive him and doesn't reconnect with him, because he doesn't owe him neither his forgiveness nor his love just because they're blood 😊

i have Thoughts about why Danyal was deemed the weak one (it's ableism) by Ra's, and how it connects him and separates him from Bruce as well

please leave a comment with your thoughts! unless you're a scammer, I won't fucking buy a comission if you spam me!

[ragingbookdragon]

I Saw It Coming When You Threw The First Punch

Batmom x Batfamily One-Shot

Word Count: 1.7K Warnings: Explicit Language, Mentions of Violence

Author's Note: I honestly feel like I get my irritation from people out by writing stories where the characters punch people. I live vicariously through my characters. Enjoy! -Thorne

Getting the call that his wife had been taken into GCPD custody was not one that Bruce had ever expected to receive. Not in a million years. And yet, low and behold, Gordon had called sounding apologetic that she’d been detained after a physical altercation at the gala she’d hosted earlier that evening.

Which was absolutely baffling to him, because the only person more anal retentive about screwing up at a gala than Alfred, was his wife. So, something must’ve seriously set her off if she’d hauled off on somebody. And Gordon had made it quite clear that it was his wife that threw the first punch, though beyond that, he didn’t know what else had occurred because she’d invoked her rights to the company lawyer and to remain silent, simply staring at the wall while the other officers tried to get a story out of her—Bruce knew she wouldn’t crack. Other than him, his wife had a reserve that no man, alien, or god could break. He’d never say it, but he was envious of his wife’s willpower.

He arrived rather quickly with all four sons in tow, knowing that the sight of the entire family would probably help her chances of getting out and they waited patiently to be escorted to where she was being held.

When they arrived at the interrogation room, they saw her sitting there with crossed legs, hands placed palm down on the table. Her eyes were closed in what Bruce recognized as her deep meditative state; the one she used to fight off telepathic control from enemies—she was probably recounting what happened that night.

“What are the charges?” he asked Gordon and the older man sighed.

“Simple battery and public disturbance.”

Bruce hummed lowly in his throat and gazed at his wife. “How do you see this playing out for her?”

“If the woman she keelhauled doesn’t press charges, there’s possibility of probation with community service.”

He had to play naïve. “And if she does?”

Gordon met his gaze. “Then you’re looking at your wife going into lockup for a year.”

Bruce let out a sigh. “I’ll call our lawyer then.”

“I’ll give you and your wife some privacy,” he replied, hitting a button on the keypad beside the door, and the glass went dark while the glowing red button recording the room turned off.

“Thank you, Gordon,” he said, and the detective waved as he walked off, closing the door to the interrogation room behind him. Bruce looked at his sons. “Let’s go see what set your mom off tonight.”

***

The door to the room opened but she didn’t open her eyes, still under the cold water in her retreat.

“(Y/N),” someone murmured and though the voice was familiar, she didn’t come to yet.

“(Y/N),” they repeated a bit firmer. “Come back up.”

Ever so slowly, she allowed her mind to come back from the deep waters and she opened her eyes, smiling at her husband and sons.

“Good evening family.” Damian immediately sprinted to her and buried his face in her neck, and she laughed, running a hand through his short dark hair. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“You are in trouble,” he murmured and pulled away to look into her eyes. “We will do whatever you need, Umi.”

(Y/N) snorted. “Don’t worry about me baby. Knowing Little Miss Martha May, she’s not going to press charges over our spat.”

“I think simple battery is bit more than a spat, mom,” Dick worried, brows furrowing in concern. “What did you two even start fighting about?”

Her eyes darted to the glass then to Bruce and he said, “Gordon turned off the cameras.”

“Mom,” Tim started, and she looked at him; he held up his phone screen. “I just assured that you’re protected here.”

She nodded and let out a sigh. “I knew I should’ve just walked away but I couldn’t help it. She just set me off like a match to gunpowder.”

“What’d you guys even duke it out over,” Jason questioned, and she sighed again, recounting the night.

***

“You’ve thrown another wonderful party, Miss Wayne,” Lucius murmured, handing her a champagne glass.

She grinned widely, thanking him. “Thank you, Lucius, I try.”

“Clan couldn’t come tonight?”

“You’ve always been perceptive about us, haven’t you?”

“To use your words, I try,” he laughed, and she nodded.

“Patrol started early tonight,” she said inconspicuously, eyes shifting around to glance at who was walking near them. “Besides, most of them only come to these to appease the crowd.”

“Ah, yes, I forgot that you’re the only one who actually enjoys these.”

“Only when Bruce and the kids are here,” she corrected. “It’s easier to bullshit when they’re here to pick up the slack.”

He barked a laugh and she chuckled in return when someone walked up to them. She turned and immediately grimaced at the old classmate of hers.

“(Y/N), such a beautiful party you’ve thrown tonight,” the woman greeted, though it was laced with cheerful fakeness.

She plastered a smile on her face. “Good evening, Marianne. I didn’t expect to see you tonight.”

“Oh, you know me, I’m always up for a party.” Her eyes drifted around. “Where is your husband? I wanted to thank him for the gift basket he sent after my operation.” Marianne gave her a sarcastic smile. “Isn’t it rather off for a host to avoid his own party?”

Note to self, yell at Bruce for sending her a gift.

“He had to work late tonight. So did the boys.” (Y/N) matched her smile. “I’m sure they’d be delighted to know that you thought of them though.”

Something shifted in Marianne’s eyes. “Oh yes, the children you have.” She leaned in close and murmured, “You know I’ve been hearing some rather negative rumors about yours and Bruce’s decision to adopt orphans rather than have some of your own.”

(Y/N) blinked, not sure if she should be shocked or unimpressed. “Really? Care to enlighten me?”

Marianne waved a hand. “The major one is that you simply took pity on the strays because you were barren.” She felt like she’d been slapped across the face and her jaw dropped as she gaped at the woman.

Apparently, that was all the ammunition that Marianne needed because she offered a sympathetic smile an placed a hand on (Y/N)’s arm. “Oh, you poor dear.” She patted her arm again. “You should’ve come to me instead of adopting orphans. I would’ve been happy to be a surrogate for you.”

(Y/N) shrugged the hand off her arm and reached up, pulling the silver teardrop earrings from her ears. “Yeah, those orphans aren’t mine, not biologically.”

She pulled off her diamond wedding rings and handed them and the earrings over to Lucius who took them and stepped back.

“But you know what they are?” she glowered at Marianne and seethed, “They’re my sons.”

The next thing anyone knew, the two women were rolling on the floor, their hostess throwing punches that seemed to make everyone wince when they connected to the woman’s face.

***

“And all I remember was being escorted down here,” she finalized, eyes drifting to Bruce’s.

He simply stared at her for a moment before he let out a heavy sigh and put his face in his hands. “I’m proud that you defended our family, but at the same time, I’m disappointed that you let Marianne set you off.”

(Y/N) crossed her arms over her chest. “Oh, so you’re taking her side?”

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it,” Bruce shot back. “If she decides to press charges, you’re going to be in lockup for a year.”

“She’s not.”

“You don’t know that, (Y/N).”

“No, I do,” she blinked and leaned forward. “If Marianne doesn’t want me to ruin her image with shit she did when she was a teenager, she’ll keep her mouth shut and take the blame for this.”

“What’d she do, Ma?” Jason questioned curiously and she turned her attention to him.

“Enough that’ll disgrace her image amongst every elite this side of the globe if she tries me anymore.”

Before anyone could say anything, the door opened and they turned, seeing Gordon walking in. “Good evening, Miss Wayne,” he greeted, and she smiled.

“Good evening, Jim. How’s your night so far?”

He chuckled. “Not too bad. I got to detain my favorite socialite and listen to all my officers speculate what she did.”

(Y/N) lifted her hands palm up beside her shoulders. “I live to please, Jim, you know that.”

“I do.” He walked over and handed her a few papers. “When asked if she wanted to press charges, Marianne Walters declined. She instead gave a rather detailed statement that she instigated the fight and threw the first punch.” He stared at the busted lip she had. “Does that match what happened?”

She quickly looked over the papers and nodded. “Yes, that’s true.”

Gordon sighed. “Do you wish to press charges?”

(Y/N) shook her head. “No,” she smiled. “There’s no reason to make a fuss about this.”

“…Miss Wayne, you and Miss Walters are all over the news.”

She shrugged. “And people have very short memories. They’ll forget about this.” She handed back the papers. “Send this to my lawyer and she’ll handle it with the prosecutors.”

“You think they won’t press charges despite Walters?” Gordon asked and she nodded.

“Oh, they won’t,” she said then looked at the clock. “Am I free to leave? It’s been a long night.”

Gordon let out a heavy sigh and nodded. “Yes Miss Wayne, you’re free to leave now.”

(Y/N) rose. “Wonderful.” She looked at her sons. “Boys, let’s go.”

They followed her and Bruce stood from the table, standing beside Gordon. “Thank you, Jim.”

Gordon grunted. “I know (Y/N) threw the first punch.”

“You do?”

“Of course, I do.” He huffed. “And I don’t blame her either.” He watched (Y/N) laugh at something Dick said while the others groaned around him. “You’ve got a good woman, Bruce. Good wife. Even better mother.”

Bruce looked at his wife and let an easy smile cross his lips as she pulled them all into hugs. “Yeah…yeah, I do, don’t I.”

[faintblueivy]

So Imagine...

A world where Bruce Wayne died as a child in that alley that day, Martha and Thomas Wayne grieve as normal parents. They DO NOT BECOME BATMAN AND JOKER. 

Nothing ever remains the same after losing their little boy. So, Thomas buries himself in his work and Martha drowns herself in depression and pain. They do therapy and it works a little and life becomes bearable but...not happy.

One day, Alfred badgers the couple to go out and relax a little and buys them tickets for a circus - Haly’s circus. Everything was going nice and dandy and Martha was in awe of this little acrobat as much as the rest of the crowd when suddenly the rope snaps and the boy’s parents fall to their deaths - right in front of him and the gathering. Thomas is quick to jump in to see if he could help them in any way but Martha can see it in his eyes that they are as dead as they can be. 

They return to home with heavy hearts and Martha can’t get the image of the little boy out of her head. His skin was a light shade of bronze but his dark hair and bright cerulean blue eyes reminded her so much of Bruce that her heart wouldn’t rest. So a few days later she uses her connections to know if the child is safe and well cared for, when to her immense horror, she is replied that he was shipped to Gotham Juvie due to the lack of foster homes. She is enraged.

She calls Thomas and Alfred and lets them know about the little acrobat’s situation and declares that she was going to adopt him. They hesitate a little but she is not to be deterred as she goes ahead and brings the little boy home. 

Richard John Grayson - Wayne. Or Dick, as he likes to call himself. 

He is adamant that he wants no parents and Martha is fine because not only that she is old enough to be not his mother but also because no child can ever be her Bruce.

“You can just call me Grandma then.” She tells him.

His eyes are wide but he nods and then smiles and Martha, in a long while, has never felt this happy. 

Her new Grandson, despite losing his parents, is a ray of sunshine with unlimited supply of energy and the cold and empty manor is warm and happy again. 

Dick is a little charmer and even after Thomas and Alfred’s initial reluctance, they immediately fall in love with the boy and one day, when Martha comes down to the morning breakfast, she hears a happy, deep rumble - one she has not heard in many years. Thomas is laughing. 

There on the dining table, seated beside Dick, was Thomas laughing. Her eyes water at the scene and Alfred, who is standing beside her offers her a handkerchief. None of them mention how his own eyes are wet too.

 ...

Dick is sixteen, a brilliant boy in academics as much as they disinterest him but an invincible athlete. Martha has been told time and time again that her grandson is undoubtedly a international level gymnast. But he is a teenager.

And teenagers steal their grandparent’s ‘coolest’ car and rush off into the night. But they don’t come back with a little battered and bruised, homeless kid tucked under their arm.

“He had jacked three tires off your car. When I confronted him, he tried to hit me with a tire iron.” He says, amused, as Thomas tries to convince the child to show him his injuries.

“I didn’t do nothin’! He’s a fuckin’ big boob liar!” They boy screams, his blue green eyes glaring daggers at Dick.

“Language.” Both her and Alfred warn simultaneously.

After hours of struggle, interrogation and fuck you’s, Martha learns that the child’s name is Jason. He is twelve. Mother died form drug overdosing and Dad is a petty henchman of some crime lord. He ran away from multiple foster homes because they are so abusive that the child feels safer on streets. 

Martha goes on a rampage over Gotham’s foster care after that. She did not donate millions of dollars annually for children to feel safer on streets. After of lot of talks and reassurances and promises, Martha acquires her second grandchild.

Jason Peter Todd - Wayne. 

Jason is tiny. Malnourished like Leslie said. But he is sharp, observant and hungry for knowledge. Martha and Alfred joke that Jason is Thomas' soul child. Where Dick had loved activity and movement, Jason liked quiet and stability - Martha thinks that running and fighting for survival on streets every single day does that you. So evenings often found her and Dick in the garden but Thomas and Jason in the library pouring over as many books as they can.

And to nobody's surprise, despite their rocky start, the boys become inseparable. They are outwardly different, with clashing interests and behaviors but Martha can see that they both carry the same cores of light.  

When the morning of Dick’s Parent’s death anniversary comes around, both her and Thomas find Jason on Dick’s bed, arms curled protectively around his big brother. For the first time in so many years, Dick wakes up to warmth surrounding him, not nightmares. 

...

Both her grandsons attend Gotham Academy so when she receives a phone call from the Principal, she is half surprised and half not. When she enters the Principal’s office, both her boys are standing on one side, Jason with his head hung in shame and Dick glaring daggers at the other side. The boy who seems to be injured is being coddled by his mother who is shooting nasty glares at her grandchildren periodically. 

Then she notices another small boy standing beside her boys, trying to melt into the wall.

Tim Drake. The only son of Jack and Janet Drake of Drake Industries.    

She arches a questioning eyebrow at Dick who shakes his head and then she turns to the Principal. 

“What happened here?”

“Glad to see you’re here Mrs. Wayne.” The Principal says, pushing his glasses up his nose, “I regret to inform you that your ward Jason Peter Todd attacked this young man here.” He gestures to the other boy. 

“Madam, Gotham Academy is a prestigious school and we do not encourage physical violence here. Yes, it might have been acceptable from where he came from but it won’t be, here. I hope you give us the right to punish Mr. Todd here appropriately.” 

Martha inwardly bristles at the jab at her grandson and says crisply, “Mr. Wayne.”

“What?”

“He’s not just Todd. He is a Wayne. Please remember that.”

“Principal Sir.” Dick cuts in and Martha is confused because as hyperactive as Dick is, he is a mannerly child and knows better than to cut in a conversation like this but what draws her attention is the chilling tone which Dick almost never uses. Dick continues, “Why don’t you tell our grandmother more of your regrets? Or the prestigious Gotham Academy believes that bullying is acceptable.” 

Martha has been told what she needs to know. 

“Jason?” she calls out to her youngest grandson softly, “What happened?”

Jason is quiet when suddenly Tim Drake moves forward. She can see he is scared the way his hands shake but determination shines in his blue eyes. She likes him.

“I want to say something.”

He narrates the tale of how he was being bullied and how the boy on the other side with his mother threw his science project model away and broke it and physically tried to attack him when Jason stepped in to save him. Martha felt nothing but pride at Jason’s righteous indignation. 

Tim also explained that Jason exercised immense control even after these bullies called him ‘street rat’, but the verbal spar intensified after Dick was insulted for his Romani heritage, but it came to fist fight after Thomas and Martha were insulted, and Bruce’s death was made fun of.

Her gaze snaps to the other three occupants of the room and they are all in various shades of pale. Apparently, the Principal had not done his homework.

“Principal” She says icily, “Yes, I give you the authority to punish Jason appropriately but only when this young man here”, she gestures to the boy who was now cowering behind his mother, “Is dealt with in the same way.”

After threatening the Principal in soft words but harsh tone about not tolerating to having her grandsons bullied the next time, she grabs Jason’s hand to drag him away from these people who don’t deserve his company, when her eyes fall on the little trembling Tim. 

She offers him her hand.

He stares at it, shocked but after an encouraging smile from Dick and a small shove from Jason, he takes it shyly.

And since that day, Tim becomes a member of Martha’s family. The boys stay together so much that even Thomas forgets that Tim is not theirs. 

Tim’s upbringing sends Martha’s grandmother instincts on a haywire and she resents the Drakes for their criminal neglect towards Tim. 

It is rewarding that Tim flourishes in their attention. 

She learns that his hobby is Photography and he is excellent at it. And he is a genius when it comes to science, computers and gadgets. He likes crime thrillers movies and books and often picks them apart with his scarily good knowledge about forensics that leave the rest of the family in awe and slightly disturbed. 

The dam breaks when one day Jason and Dick return back from school telling her that Tim was absent today and they are worried about him. When they later sneak into the Drake mansion in the evening, Thomas receives a frantic call from their oldest grandchild that Tim was burning with fever. Because Thomas is a doctor, they save Tim before anything serious happens.

This time, it is Thomas who sues the Drakes for Tim’s custody after him and Jason had, had enough of ‘Timbo’s shitty parents’.

“Timothy?” Martha brushes his sweat soaked forehead gently. “Would you like to be a member of our family legally?"

Tim is hesitant about this but he admits that he likes Wayne manor much better than he ever liked Drake mansion. He confesses that he loves Jason and Dick as brothers and sees Martha, Thomas and Alfred as his grandparents as well.

The long custody battle ends with both Jack and Janet Drake dying at the hands of two different tragedies, leaving Tim an orphan, but also with a loving family consisting of three grandparents and two brothers by his side. 

Timothy Jackson Drake - Wayne is adopted into the Wayne family as her and Thomas’ third grandson.

...

A year after they adopt Tim, Thomas comes home with a small girl on his side. She is clearly an east Asian in heritage with dark hair and dark eyes and is speech deprived. Thomas is clearly distressed after Cassandra - her name is Cassandra - is safely secured in warm bed in a nice room across Jason’s. He calls her, the three boys and Alfred to his study to explain about the small girl. 

He talks about how Gordon brought the girl to him and after hours of wordless, signed and clumsily sketched on paper conversations with the little girl they were able to determine that Cassandra was hiding from her father who was an assassin and wanted to drag the little girl down the same path before she ran away. The more he talks about the damage and abuse the girl had experienced at the hands on her own father, the more furious Martha becomes. When Thomas’ explanations ends, Jason slams a punch into the wall making a dent but no one has the heart to reprimand him for that. 

The following morning, Martha can see that her three boys have unanimously decided that they are adopting Cassandra as their sister. She is treated like a Princess, and given the nick name ‘Cass’. 

Slowly but surely, Cass learns what it means to love through Dick’s bright kindness, Jason’s quiet protection and Tim’s infinite patience. After her father is finally apprehended, the family celebrates.

Cassandra Wayne, soon after, becomes the beloved Wayne Princess of Gotham. 

Martha and Thomas often accompany their only granddaughter to her speech therapy lessons, so after six months of her adoption, at dinner, she places a kiss on everyone’s forehead - her three brothers and three grandparents, stands at the head of the table and croaks out, slowly, “Thank...thank you.” All of them stare at her flabbergasted, but it appears that she was planning to shock them even more.

“You...Love. Love you...”

The silence that follows her broken but sure words is deafening. Surprisingly it is Tim who breaks it as he scrambles out of his chair and launches himself at Cass, wrapping his arms around her and both Jason and Dick follow him, grabbing both their youngest siblings fiercely.

A quiet sob breaks her out of the trance and she smiles when she watches Thomas furiously wiping his tears from the sleeve of his shirt. The last time he     had cried was at Bruce’s funeral. And Martha is infinitely grateful that this time these are happy tears. 

...

Sometimes Martha wonders what would have happened if Bruce had lived. If these children are her grandchildren then does that mean they are Bruce’s kids? Had Bruce lived, would he have accepted these gaggle of kids that her and Thomas have collected over the years as his own? Would he have kids of his own? 

Her questions are answered when one day she hears a slight commotion in the entrance is surprised to see a young woman with a sword threatening Alfred.

“I want to meet the Master of this house. Let them know immediately.” She demands in an authoritative but silky voice, and Martha suddenly sees the Toddler clutched in her arm. 

“What is it?” Martha speaks as soon as she can when the woman notices her. She looks surprised for a second but immediately schools her features as the baby fusses.

“You’re alive.” She whispers and before any of them could make an indignant comment about her wordings, she says, “It appears that I might have traveled in to the wrong universe.”

Now that is interesting. Martha lives in a world where they are protected by aliens...so, it is certainly worth hearing for. 

Martha offers the young lady an invitation for tea which she accepts. She notices how the woman carries herself with lethal grace and dignity as if she was a Princess but much more. As they sit and Alfred leaves to bring the promised team Martha notices how the woman’s eyes sweep over the place. 

“How may I help you?”

Her voice attracts the attention of the toddler and this time, he is not clutched tightly enough to his mother’s chest to turn his small head and look at her. Martha gasps. Because the child looks too much like Toddler Bruce. But instead of the blue eyes like her son, this child has glowing green ones, like his mother. But still, the resemblance is uncanny. 

“Yes, he is your son’s.” The woman answers the unasked question.

She is explained the existence of Multiverse, and it’s workings and how Bruce survived instead of them in that world, met Talia (the woman’s name is Talia Al Ghul) and had a child but had to leave. Talia mentions the reason she came here was because her son’s life was in danger and Talia’s father wanted to raise her son as an assassin Prince and a tool for him to use. Talia’s solution to protect her son was for her to give her son to the Bruce of this world to raise, since the Bruce of that world had gone missing.   

“I can raise him.” Martha suddenly declares and the woman looks at him shocked. “I will not raise him into a life of violence but I can certainly protect him and give him a happy civilian life.”

Talia looks unsure, hesitant, but says, “I...have been a warrior since the day I can remember. Never once have I ever thought of my son not being a warrior. He was...born to be one.” 

Martha smiles. “He doesn’t have to be one. Yes, his life will be infinitely different than the one you imagined but...he will be well loved and protected. I can assure you of that.”

“Damian.” Talia whispers as he deposits the baby in her arms after a lot of consideration. “His name is Damian.”

She looks at her son tenderly one last time and places a kiss on his forehead and Martha’s heart breaks a little for the young mother. 

“Will you return back for him?” Martha asks as she follows the Talia to the door.

“No.” Talia whispers, her voice strained. “I will not. Any action taken by me is monitored by my father closely. If I return back, then he might know that I have left Damian here and I cannot let that happen. He is yours, forever.”

Martha gives her a sad smile. “You’re a brave and good mother Talia. Thank you for doing what is best for your son.”

She nods, not turning to look at Damian one last time as she leaves the manor grounds, never to return. 

Martha looks at the baby secure in her arms and her lips quirk up into a grin at the sight of two curious green eyes watching her with interest. 

“Welcome to the family, little Damian.”

When she introduces the new addition to the family, Thomas is dumbfounded. Dick is ecstatic at the prospect of having a new baby brother, Jason is secretly pleased, Cass is happiest and Tim looks unsure.

That’s how Damian Wayne - Al Ghul joins the family.

Damian fits in their home spectacularly. After few days of hesitation, like he had with Dick, Thomas takes to Damian quickly. He has an epic competition going on with their eldest grandson to become the baby’s favorite. Damian refuses to sleep without Thomas but his tantrums are only controlled and won over by Dick. Damian loves Jason manhandling him and giggles happily when the older boy throws him in the air or swings him around. Damian loves Cassandra because she knows what he wants before any of them do. And Cass loves to carry her little brother around to watch birds and animals in the manor grounds.

The only person Damian seems to not get along with is Tim and the older boy seems not be fond of him either. Because Damian wants everything Tim does and the older brother has to compromise for Damian every time. But Martha has to bite laughs a lot now a days because almost everytime Damian falls asleep, it is with Tim in vicinity. And she has caught the older boy tenderly covering Damian in his favorite blanket more often than not. Martha thinks that this is kind of cute but keeps her opinion to herself. 

Her little grandson is quite protective of his siblings though. Anytime someone upsets any of his siblings, they are threatened with scowls, growls and even bites and stabbings in extreme cases.

Like last time when Mrs. Park made fun of Cassandra’s  speech impairment, Damian almost bit her finger off. Damian hates one of Dick’s racist colleague (they all do) so much that anytime the man enters his field of vision, the first thing Damian gets his hand on is thrown at the guy’s head. With deadly precision. And last time when Mr. Link had called Jason ‘street rat’ for personally volunteering charity work for poor and homeless, Damian had smeared his juice and drool covered hands on the Man’s thousand dollars suit. And when one time, a reporter had infiltrated a Gala and chased Tim around to ask uncomfortable questions about his parent’s death and the Wayne’s involvement in it, Damian, noticing Tim’s distress had stabbed the reporter with a fork with no hesitation. 

Martha is still not sure if she should encourage or reprimand Damian for that.

...

As she sits on the head of the table with Thomas on her side and Alfred on the other end, she wonders how miraculous it is for her to have all these children in her life. 

Dick is engaged in an animated conversation with Stephanie who was introduced to the family as Tim’s girlfriend. Barbara, the daughter of James Gordon and Dick’s girlfirend/or not was helping Cass pile up food on her plate. Damian and Tim were bickering over something as usual but Jason trying to hide his snickers in guise of drinking water which made Martha sure that the something was Jason’s doing.

These people were her family. The ones she had gained after losing Bruce. She wonders, if there was a universe where Bruce got to meet her grandchildren. 

Would he accept them? As family? 

Would he love them? As family? 

She brightly smiles when the multiple sets of eyes turn to her waiting for her to blow the candle.

“Happy Birthday Martha.”

Thomas says warmly, his voice thick with emotion and she meets his gaze and sees the love, affection and thankfulness in his eyes for this family that they had created after their earth shattering loss. She knows what she wants as she blows the candle on the cake flickering in front of her.

I wish for us to be family in every universe.

[robinrites]

Day Six: My Son

Happy Day Six of Whumptober!

TW: Kidnapped, slight torture (not graphic), panic attacks (not graphic)

Summary: Tim has been kidnapped by people who don't know he is Robin, and are holding him for ransom in hopes that his father, Bruce Wayne, will pay them well for the return of his son...but the kidnappers seem to have different ideas about returning him in one piece.

“We have your son.” Bruce slammed his fist against his desk, growling before letting the video continue. “We have your son Mr. Wayne, and if you want to see Timmy here make it home okay, you’re gonna want to listen real closely to what we have to say.” Bruce watches as the man pulls Tim up by his hair so he faces the camera. Panic flashes in Tim’s eyes as he tries to say something, only for it to be muffled by the gag. Tim squirms from the man’s grasp until his hair is released, allowing his head to lull forward. “Now, as I was saying, 10 million dollars, cash, untraceable. Gotham docks two nights from now. If we catch wind that you’ve told GCPD or Batman… let’s just say the only way Timmy here is going home is in a body bag capeesh?” 

Bruce unmutes his microphone, but leaves his camera off so they can’t see the Batcave in the background. “I’ll do it, just please don’t hurt him.” 

One of the men off camera laughs, “We would never hurt anyone, isn’t that right Timmy?” His hand enters the screen only to hit Tim across the back of the head. Tim doesn’t raise his head, and Bruce can swear he hears Tim whimper. “Now, we best be going, lots of work to do-” 

“Wait!” Bruce interrupts, “Can I at least talk to him? Please? I just need to know he’s okay.” One of the men grunts, then yanks the gag out of Tim’s mouth. Tim weakly raises his head to look at the camera in front of him. 

“H-hey Dad.” He shakily says while Bruce tries to ignore the dried blood on the side of his face. 

Bruce tries his best to steady his voice, both for Tim and his own sake. “Hey Tim, how are you feeling?” 

“I’m okay Dad, my head hurts a little. You’ll come for me right?” 

Bruce lowers his head, thankful Tim can’t see him right now. “Of course I will, I love you son.”

“I love you too Dad.” One of the men jumps in front of the camera as Tim says this, and even though he’s wearing a mask Bruce can tell he has a smug look on his face. 

“Well, like I said we’ve got lots to do. Gotham Docks, two nights from now, midnight, don’t be late.” The camera cuts off and Bruce immediately stands up. He dials his phone as he begins to pace the cave. 

“Hey B, what’s up?” Barbara asks as she picks up the other end, unaware of what just happened. 

“Barbara, it’s- it’s Tim. Something happened and- and I just got a ransom video. They haven’t hurt him yet, but if they do I’ll never forgive myself and obviously I could just give them the money, but they don’t know I’m Batman so what if they try something-” 

“Bruce, calm down, it’s going to be okay. Can you send the video my way? I’ll see if I can pick up any clues, maybe Tim said something to help us find him. He’s smart Bruce, don’t forget that.” In spite of the panic she feels, Babs somehow maintains a calm tone of voice. “And while I’m doing that we can send everyone out to look for him.”

“They said they’d kill him if they caught wind I told Batman, Babs-” 

“I know you’re stressed out right now, so you’re not thinking straight. You’ll stay at the cave, in case they call again, while the rest of the team will patrol Gotham.” Babs pauses, “I use patrol lightly, they’re really going to be searching for Tim, but casually enough that hopefully our kidnappers won’t pick up on it. Sound good?” Bruce doesn’t verbally answer, but after years of working side by side with him, Barbara knows him well enough to know his answer. “Good, now I’m going to send a message to the team about Tim, what was he wearing in the video?” 

Bruce racks his brain, despite it happening minutes ago, “Red jacket, it looked like a green t-shirt underneath. That’s all I could see.” 

Babs makes a note of this quickly before continuing, “Okay, I just sent out a message. I’m gonna head your way and then we can go over the video together, I don’t think you should be alone right now. Plus I’ll need a second set of eyes.” 

“Barbara?” Bruce rubs his hand over his face, trying to get himself to focus on anything but the danger Tim is in. 

“Yeah?” 

“Thank you.” 

The second Barbara arrives at the Batcave she begins to scour the video for any clues as to where they might be holding Tim. She knows having Bruce pace in the background isn’t helping any, but the other alternative is to send him out on patrol where he could get a little too hands-on with any low-level criminal he’d come across. Hours pass, with little to no progress in finding Tim, when another call comes through Bruce’s phone. 

“Unknown number, it’s them.” Bruce states, determined to get any clue on the whereabouts of his son. He picks up the phone then transfers the call to his computer so he can record the video. 

“Hello Bruce, miss me?” It’s the same masked man as before, but Tim does not appear to be in frame. 

Bruce growls, “I don’t even know who the hell you are or what you want with my son.” 

“Oh dear, someone’s grumpy.” He laughs.

“Where is TIm? I want to see him.” 

“‘Where is Tim?’ Oh that’s a good question.” He pauses, then a scream is heard off screen. “Oh, sounds like him, shall we go check?” 

“You said you wouldn’t hurt him.” Bruce bites his tongue as best he can. “I’m doing everything you ask, it hasn’t even been a day. I haven’t involved anyone else I swear.” 

The man picks up the camera and begins to walk out of the room, down the hall slightly then into another room. He turns the camera around so the focus is no longer on him, but on Tim, hanging from his arms in the center of the room. 

“Now I want you to keep in mind that I haven’t broken my promise. I haven’t touched a hair on Timmy’s head. My friend Ace, on the other hand… well let’s just say I turned my back for a couple minutes, whoops!” The man walks closer until the camera is almost in Tim’s face, who doesn’t raise his head or even acknowledge the camera’s presence. “Say hi to Daddy for us.” Tim drops his head even lower, feigning unconsciousness so the man walks away. “Or be boring, that’s fine too. Well, since Tim 's not in a chatty mood, I guess I’ll be going now. Just wanted to remind you of what was at stake if you fuck up. Bye!” 

The line instantly goes dead, followed by Bruce storming out of the room. Babs considers following after him, but instead opts to scan the new footage for clues. After an hour straight of watching the video, Babara is about to give up when she notices Tim moving his fingers strangely. A second look and she realizes it’s ASL. L-I-B-R-A-R-Y he spells with his fingers, so quickly Barbara has to slow the video down to register it. 

Barbara glances at the monitor displaying the location of all the teammates to see who is closest to where Tim is. 

“What do you have for me, Oracle?” Jason asks as he picks up the phone. 

“I think I found him.” Oracle pulls up the directions to where she thinks Tim is being held. “Just outside of Gotham, there’s an abandoned library. I think it got destroyed during some battle Batman had, but the underground part should in theory be intact. I think that’s where they’re holding Tim. You’re the closest one, and you’ll have to go in solo, it’d take too long for backup to arrive. I’m going to look for the building layout while you drive there so you know what to expect so at least you won’t be going in completely blind. I know it’s a lot to ask but-” 

“Tim’s family, Oracle. That’s all there is to it. Send me the address and I’ll head over immediately.” 

Jason pulls up to the library and can’t help but pause as he takes in the building. Half of it has been turned to rubble while the other half barely stays upright. He pulls up the blueprints in his helmet for easy access as he begins to search the building for the entrance to the basement. He makes quick work of the two guards in front of the door, then carefully descends. As Jason carefully walks through the wall, Babs leads him towards the room Tim should be held in. He comes across a couple more guards before arriving at a locked door. Jason picks the lock, and tries to stop himself as the door swings open to reveal Tim being beaten by a man into unconsciousness. 

Rage takes over as his vision becomes red. Jason tosses the man against the wall before laying into him with his fists. The man begs him to stop, but one look at Tim tells Jason that he doesn’t deserve his mercy. His hand goes for his gun, one less asshole in the world, but then Babs’ voice in his earpiece stops him. 

“He’ll suffer longer in prison.” She states. Jason knows this is true, and as much as he would like to finish the job, there are more important things at hand. He spins his gun around and hits the man with the butt of his gun, knocking him out. Jason stands, then spits on the man before he turns around to go tend to Tim.

“Ja-Red Hood?” Tim wearily asks, struggling to lift his head. Jason unlocks the chains around his wrists, catching him as he falls. 

“Yeah buddy, it’s me.” He wants so badly to take his mask off, to show Tim a familiar face, but he knows there are probably more goons in the building and he cannot deal with a secret identity reveal currently. “Let’s get you out of here huh?” Tim doesn’t answer, already fast asleep in Jason’s arms, the safety Jason provides finally allowing for exhaustion to take him over. Tim sleeps peacefully until they return to the Batcave, knowing he’s in the hands of people who care about him again.

[mochegato]

Even the Losers

Chapter 1

“You can do this Marinette,” Adrien whispered encouragingly, echoing the mantra she’d been whispering to herself for the past two days.  She could do this.  She could manage.  This was for Max.  She could handle it.  He couldn’t be here but she could.  She could be strong for him.  She gave Adrien a shaky smile and nodded.  “We just have to find him and we can leave,” he reminded her.

Marinette took a breath and let it out slowly. She’d dealt with far, far worse than a few judgmental, heartless asses who had no real interest in her.  But seas of artificial smiles had always unsettled her and currently she was surrounded with so much artificial sweetness she felt like she was walking through a kid’s cereal aisle.  That added onto her already existing anxiety had her ready to bolt at the slightest provocation.

She ran her hand over the skirt of her dress, letting the feeling of the fabric and the knowledge of all that had gone into it soothe her.  She was especially proud of her dress and the work that had gone into it.  It was a black so dark it almost appeared to draw in the light around it.  A mesh with strategically placed blood red decorations overlaid the dress, hugging her bodice until it reached her hips then dropped into a flowing skirt that ended just before it could pool on the ground.

She fought the urge to fiddle with the belt in her nervousness.  She couldn’t show weakness like that, not here.  She looked up at Adrien again in search of an anchor to reality.  She took in his expression and had to stifle the laugh that resulted.  He had his own artificially sweet smile on but his eyes quite clearly begged for a quick death.  He glanced down to her and nudged her discreetly, his artificial smile becoming wide and real.  “Shhhh,” he hushed her under his breath.  “We’re trying not to attract attention to ourselves, remember?  We’re ghosts.”  He looked around to make sure nobody was looking at them.

Marinette immediately quieted, her face becoming somber. She did remember.  In and out.  That was the goal.  Her goal. Knock the man on his ass with Max’s accomplishments, then never see him, or anyone else in this room, other than Adrien of course, ever again.  They were supposed to be like ghosts.  There but not.  Her eyes scanned the room looking for their target.

Adrien’s eyes immediately softened and filled with regret.  “Shit, Mari. I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to…”

“No,” she looked up at him with an artificial smile of her own.  “I know. It’s fine.  It’s not your fault.”  She scanned the crowd again, cursing her height, as she had many times in her life.  Even with the six inch, death defying heels, she still barely reached Adrien’s eyes, let alone give her any kind of advantage to see the crowd.  She needed some kind of vantage point but unfortunately, the only high point in the ballroom was the stage, which she couldn’t utilize if she was going to follow her Ghost policy.  “We might have more success if we split up.  Let me know if you find him.”

Adrien squeezed her arm quickly before nodding. “Good luck.”

Marinette shot him a genuine smile.  “You too.  May the Luck be with you.”

Adrien laughed and shook his head.  “I never should have forced you to watch that movie.”

Marinette grinned back.  “You never should have forced me to watch the prequels.  The original ones were just fine.”  Adrien narrowed his eyes at her but let it drop in favor of disappearing in the crowd to find their target.

Marinette followed him with her eyes until she couldn’t see him anymore then took a deep breath to brace herself.  Her eyes immediately started darting around and her fingers started dancing.  She needed something to occupy them or she was going to start attracting unwanted attention.

She noted a bar close by and made a beeline for it. She waited politely for the bartender to notice her, her fingers tapping anxiously against the bar while she waited. She froze when she heard a gruff voice next to her.  “Did you sneak in here?”

She turned to the voice and blinked a few times. “Excuse me?”

“You’re anxious and jittery.  Afraid you’re going to get kicked out?” the man elaborated.

Marinette studied him for a moment trying to figure out why he looked so familiar.  “No,” she started slowly, trying to give her brain a chance to answer the puzzle. “Just not a fan of events like this.”

The man scoffed and nodded in understanding. “Cheers.”  He raised his glass for her to clink his but she held out her hands with a sheepish look, showing she didn’t have a drink yet.  “Well, that’s a crime.  Nobody should have to endure one of these without a drink.”  He motioned to the bartender and got an immediate response. “Another for me and a…” he motioned to Marinette to give her order.

“Oh, champagne, please,” she finished with a smile for the bartender.  That’s what was socially acceptable at events like this, right?  Champagne.

The bartender looked to the man for confirmation. The man nodded.  “And a champagne for the woman.”  Marinette scowled at the bartender causing the man to laugh. “He’s just worried that you’re underage. You look awfully young.  You’re not, right?”

Marinette’s glare softened in realization.  “Oh, that makes sense.  No, I’m not.  I forgot the legal age here is higher than in France.”

He nodded and looked at her critically for a moment before offering his hand.  “Jason.”

Marinette immediately reached out for his hand and answered with her name before her brain registered the name he’d given. Jason.  Jason Todd.  Bruce Wayne’s son.  She pulled her hand back quickly as the realization hit her and focused on leveling her breathing.  She grabbed the champagne glass more violently than necessary when the bartender set it down in front of her and immediately downed the entire glass, only coughing a bit as the bubbles tickled her throat.  Overall, champagne was not the best drink to chug.  “Another, please,” she croaked out.

“You know, there are better drinks for that, if that’s what you want to do,” Jason grinned, laughing at her.

“Wasn’t the plan until it was and then that’s all I had,” she croaked out, her voice still hoarse from the bubbles.  She kept her eyes focused on her empty glass as she spoke, almost afraid to make eye contact with him as if just seeing her eyes would be enough to blow her cover.

Jason chuckled and nodded in understanding. “Don’t suppose you’d care to dance?”

Marinette whipped her head to him and stared incredulously, forgetting her previous reservations.  She only moved again when the bartender set the new drink down in front of her.  “Um… no… thank you.  That doesn’t seem… I don’t think my date would be comfortable with that.  Good luck getting drunk enough to handle tonight though.”  She gave him a weak smile and raised her glass to him before moving into the fray again, now armed with a socially acceptable fidget toy.

It took five minutes of avoiding wandering hands and leering looks but with a little luck and some prodding from the goddess hiding in the folds of her skirt, she was finally able to stumble on M. Lucius Fox, Director of Research and Development for Wayne Enterprises.  He was in a conversation he was not remotely interested in with some vapid business exec who was just as interested in M. Fox.  Not that M. Fox’s disinterest was clear.  He was very polite and good at covering his boredom, much more so than his conversation partner, but she’d been at enough stuffy, snobby parties with Adrien, Felix, and Chloe to know the signs.

She took another breath and squared her shoulders, going into Ladybug Mode; calm and confident, completely assured of herself. She was on a mission.  She had a goal and a plan to accomplish it, and once she had a plan, she had a direction and purpose, and with those, her insecurities fell away.  With M. Fox in her sights, she could see the pieces and the way they fit together. There were no more doubts.  She set her glass on a passing waiter’s tray and made her way over to M. Fox.

“The elusive M. Fox.  It is a pleasure to meet you,” Marinette purred, coming up next to him with a charming, real smile.

“I didn’t realize I was hiding,” Lucius responded with a polite smile of his own.

“Must just come naturally.  Foxes are known to be crafty.”  Marinette looked around them and motioned toward the dancefloor. “Would you care to dance, M. Fox?”

He shook his head deferentially.  “Are you sure there aren’t other people here you’d rather dance with?”

Marinette smiled conspiratorially and leaned closer to him, making sure to keep a respectable distance.  She did NOT want to have her banter confused with flirting. That was not the strategy she had devised.  “That would defeat the purpose of coming here.  I came here specifically to speak with you.”

Lucius looked down at her analytically, trying to figure out what her angle was, but took her hand and followed her onto the dancefloor.  “And what did you want to speak about, Ms…?”

“Dupain Cheng.  Marinette Dupain Cheng.  It’s nice to meet you M. Fox.  I wanted to speak to you to sell my friend Max Kante.”

Lucius’ eyes widened almost imperceptibly as the music changed.  After a beat, he chuckled.  “I’m not in the market to buy anyone, but thank you.”  He settled his hands on her mid-back and hand for their dance.

Marinette chuckled good naturedly along with him. “Sell his talents, would be a better way to say it.”

“And where is Mr. Kante?” Lucius raised an eyebrow at her, curious why the young man didn’t bother to come himself.  “Why are you presenting his talents instead of him?”

“Finals.  Had the incredibly bad luck to have a Friday at noon final.  I mean at least it wasn’t at 19h, right?  Can you believe they have those?”  She scrunched up her nose in playful disgust.  “But still means he’s taking it right now.  And for his last final of his career.  I mean… probably.  Knowing him, he might get another PhD at some point.  My finals and presentation ended last week.  M. Wa…” she took a steadying breath and looked back up with a strained smile hoping he wouldn’t notice the stutter.  “M. Wayne even visited for it.  That’s when the idea for this came to me.  So while Max studied, I plotted.”

“So why me then and not Mr. Wayne?” Lucius asked with a curious interest.

Marinette froze for just a second.  Hardly enough for anyone to notice.  Her mind raced to calculate the appropriate response to that question, a satisfactorily casual yet intelligent response.  “M. Wayne isn’t in charge of research.  You are.  Not to mention, I highly doubt the CEO would be involved enough in the research and development projects to know what was going on.  You I take as a man who knows what is going on with all your ongoing projects.”

He nodded.  She wasn’t wrong, or normally wouldn’t be.  Mr. Wayne usually was not involved in any projects and with the exception of one particular project they were having issues with, he wouldn’t know the particulars.  “A very dangerous and elaborate plan.  Why didn’t you make an appointment with me?  Or just stop me on the street?” he prodded, hoping for her thought process.

Marinette laughed lightly.  “I don’t imagine I would have had a chance in Hell of making an appointment with you in your office.  I have no standing, no name, no significance that would have attracted any PA worth their salt’s attention.  I would have been pawned off onto a low ranking employee to handle, if I was handled at all.  And something like this needed to be taken to you.  

“As for running into you on the street, I can’t imagine you would have responded positively to getting accosted on the street. You seem more than capable of handling yourself with grace in the face of a pest.  I doubt I would have gotten more than a few words in.  At a gala however,” she grinned conspiratorially at him. “Societal convention.  Almost absolute certainty of at least one dance where I would have you one-on-one for a few minutes.  Hostage audience.  Figured I could use it to my advantage for once.”

Lucius smiled back at her ingenuity.  “There’s an application process he could have gone through,” he noted.  

Mari nodded and looked out to the crowd, scanning it.  “Right, applying to M. Fedor Rabler,” she said distractedly.  “He did that.”

Lucius nodded in understanding.  Their application process was tough.  Lots of amazing candidates didn’t get through. He had to respect her devotion to her friend, to risk coming here and potentially making an enemy of Wayne Enterprises if he’d been that sort of man.  His eyes turned sympathetic.  “I’m sorry he was passed over.”

“You know, I’ve noticed Elspeth Cole puts forth a lot of inventions and extremely varied ones at that,” she continued as though she hadn’t heard his consolation.  “Most inventors, you can see their process, you can see how they got from one invention to the next, but hers… they’re so varied.  It’s almost like they’re coming from completely different people.”  Lucius watched her carefully, waiting to see where she was going with this.  “That’s them, isn’t it?  Dancing together.  Awfully close for purely colleagues.”

Lucius followed her sight line to Ms. Cole and Mr. Rabler dancing extremely closely.  Not obscenely, but perhaps a bit closer than was normally acceptable at a society event such as this one.  “It’s hardly incriminating that two people with expertise in electrical engineering would get together,” he said slowly.

“Max is amazing.  Brilliant,” Marinette said, seemingly not noticing her non-sequitur. “He created an AI that helped the Parisian superheroes locate and defeat our supervillain at only 14.”  Lucius’ brow rose.  That was certainly promising.  He wondered what would have caused them not to take such an applicant.  Surely there was some sort of embellishment there, but as he studied her, she seemed entirely genuine.  

“He’s being scouted by several high profile companies including Lexcorp and Palmer Technologies.”  She turned her attention back to Lucius, a curious pout on her lips. “But not Wayne Enterprises.”  She looked away with clearly forced casualness. “Lexcorp and Palmer, they’re offering pretty impressive packages.  Not as good as he deserves in my opinion, but I may be a bit biased.  Wayne Enterprises however… nothing.  Not even an offer.

“Now, I don’t really have a dog in the fight… other than wanting my friend to be safe and treated with the respect he deserves. But Palmer Technologies gets blown up by a villain or its inventors kidnapped far too frequently for me to be comfortable with my friend working there.  And Lexcorp…”  She looked down as if in thought before looking back at him again with a determined look in her eye.

“You know, I get a feeling sometimes.  I can’t really explain it, just get a feeling about people or things.  I’ve found it’s best for me and the people around me if I listen to that feeling and that feeling tells me Lex Luthor is the last person who should be trusted with a brain as brilliant as Max’s.”  She looked back over to Mr. Rabler and Ms. Cole.  “That same feeling told me Max shouldn’t trust the application process for Wayne Enterprises.”  

She looked back at Lucius with an apologetic smile. “No offense.  So, I convinced Max to make a small part of his submission just a little off.  Just a bit. Enough that even an expert could miss it, but if it’s wrong the project could never work.  It took a lot of convincing to get him to do it.  He refused to believe he had anything to worry about in Wayne Enterprises with its stellar reputation.”  She scrunched up her face in annoyance.  “But that feeling, you know?  I couldn’t get over it.  After a lot of work, I convinced him there was no harm.  After all, if he was hired he could fix it.  If he wasn’t… well, you shouldn’t be using what he presented anyway, right? No harm, no foul as you Americans say.”

“No,” Lucius agreed.  “That would be theft and completely against WE policy and standards.  In fact, we should not be asking applicants to submit anything like that in the first place.”

Marinette smiled and nodded approvingly.  “I’ve heard rumblings, or rather Max has, of WE getting into transmutation of materials.  Just can’t get that algorithm right though, can you?  Algorithms are hard.  Just a little off and nothing works.”

He stared at her.  That was a secret project.  Other departments in Wayne Enterprises didn’t even know about it.  “I can’t comment on ongoing projects.”  

“I never did show you what Max is capable of, did I?”  She gave him a bright smile and reached down to press a disguised button on her belt. Lucius tensed and cursed himself for exposing himself to whatever she was about to do.  A wave of emerald green washed over the front of her bodice as the blood red decorated mesh overlay turned into a brilliant emerald green that reflected the lights now rather than absorbing it.

Lucius’ eyes widened in surprise, a feat very few had been able to draw out of him.  “He designed the fabric?” he whispered out.  He reached out tentatively to touch the fabric at her shoulder.

Marinette grinned brilliantly at his reaction.  It was no less than Max deserved.  He’d worked incredibly hard on it.  “He did,” she nodded in confirmation, “and the software that controls it.  The whole dress can change but we’re kind of surrounded here and I didn’t want to attract too much attention.”  She let him touch it for a moment before pushing the button again to turn it back into the black, then allowing him to feel the mesh to confirm it was the same fabric.  “He has ideas for changing the texture as well, but limited resources you know? Something I’d hope wouldn’t be an issue at WE.”

“How does it work?”  His eyes were still focused on the fabric at her shoulder. He took a quick look at the rest of the bodice, but quickly snapped his eyes back to her shoulder.  The neckline was conservative, but it was still rather unbecoming to stare at the young woman’s chest.

Marinette laughed.  “You’ll have to ask Max that.  I just designed the dress.  I don’t really understand the mechanics behind it, but he does.  I doubt Ms. Cole can say the same.”

Lucius stared in awe at her shoulder before looking back up to her eyes and nodding in understanding.  “Interesting.  I’ll take that under advisement.  Maybe we should be scouting you as well.”

Mari laughed.  “No, thank you.  I’m not an inventor.  I’m a designer.  But I appreciate the interest.”

Lucius nodded and led her off the dancefloor with the end of the song.  “Inventor or not, we can always use someone with intuition, intelligence, and ingenuity like you’ve demonstrated.”  

Marinette gave him a brilliant, somewhat familiar smile. “That’s very flattering.  Thank you, M. Fox.  But tonight is about Max.  I have my own, separate plans for my future.”

Lucius nodded in understanding.  “Our loss,” he answered sincerely.  “If you ever need any help or advice, please feel free to call me.  I’m sure Mr. Kante will have it soon enough and can pass it onto you.”  He looked back down to her shoulder again.  “If I may…”  He motioned toward her shoulder.  

Marinette laughed.  “Of course.  I understand how truly impressive it is.  It’s been incredibly inspirational, thinking of the options.”

“And what did your intuition tell you about tonight?” He looked up to meet her eyes, curious about her answer.

Marinette’s face went slack for a moment before she pasted on a bittersweet smile.  “That it would be costly but worth it.”

Lucius quirked his head to the side.  “In what way?”

Marinette shook her head absently and took a sudden interest in M. Fox’s tie.  “I’m not sure yet.”

Mr. Fox’s eyes softened.  “Would he be available to meet on Monday?”

Marinette grin and snapped her eyes up to him. Mission success!  Max was going to get his interview!  “He can be.”

“I’d actually like to speak with both of you, if you don’t mind.  In my office at 10 Monday?” he offered.  

Marinette faltered.  “In Wayne Enterprises?”

Lucius chuckled.  “Naturally.”

Marinette swallowed heavily.  “Why don’t we meet somewhere else?  Early morning coffee perhaps?” she offered instead with an artificial smile.  “Here’s my card.  Have someone give me a call or text and I can arrange it.  He’s scheduled to fly in tomorrow morning.  He was supposed to meet with Lexcorp Monday morning, but he’ll be at coffee to meet you instead.”

Lucius smiled back at her as he slipped her card into his pocket.  “I greatly appreciate your candor and support Ms. Dupain Cheng.”  He took her hand in both of his to shake it.  “I cannot tell you how good it was to meet you.  And if you ever get one of those feelings about me or Wayne Enterprises, let me know, okay?”

“Lucius.”

Lucius froze at the cold voice, not accustomed to that tone of voice directed at him.  He looked over curiously and missed Marinette freezing before pushing another button on her belt.

Chapter 2

Tags:

@maribat-bdbwm

[non-licet-bovi]

(Maybe half a year after Bruce takes in 9/10 yo Dick, and Dick is moving past the whole “I’m Mini-Vengeance and I require VIOLENT REVENGE post-haste” thing. Bruce is still trying to learn how to not be Alfred and let a kid sit in the ambiguity of whether or not he’s your actual child for years. Alfred is a lot better now, of course, but Dick doesn’t need the decades of the pent up emotional constipation that Bruce developed.)

Bruce, in the midst of casual conversation with his gf: I told them that my ward–

Selina, forcefully, in a way that he immediately knows is personal: Do not call him your ward. 

(Bruce rarely refers to Dick as anything other than Dick, especially in private, but he is caught up in retelling a story from a recent event.)

Bruce, momentarily quiet in surprise: I don’t know what else to call him in public.

Selina: Yes you do, Bruce. Do you need me to talk it through?

(They do this more: asking if they need clarification instead of assuming things about each other and being incredulous when they aren’t immediately understood. They know so much about each others’ heads, they can forget that they learn things about each other before they learn it about themselves.)

Bruce: Yes. (He pauses.) Please.

Selina, nodding: A child can be the ward of the state, but not of a person. Not really, anyway. A ward… it’s not a personal relationship between humans it is a clinical, removed, cold descriptor. It is a necessity more than a choice. Please, baby, just call him Dick. Say you’re taking care of him. 

Bruce: I understand. However, it’s… vague. Normal people don’t like vague. (Bruce knows this because he is full of vaguerees that normal people don’t know how to accept. Selina and Dick are too.)

Selina: You can handle it. But– Dick probably doesn’t like vague either. Talk to him. Baby, I know you. He’s your son. He’s been your son for a while. Call him that. 

Bruce: You’re right. I will.

Selina: And talk to him about adopting him. Hell, talk to me about it. Maybe I want him too.

Bruce, hesitating: Do you?

Selina, seeming to realize what she said, pauses for a while: Yeah. Yeah. 

Bruce: Then we should talk to him. I mean– after I talk to you about it. 

Selina: Okay. Yeah. Right. You should talk to me about it. Soon. 

Bruce: Alright.