#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!

[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!

[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

[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.

[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.”

[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.

[yourmcu]

Forgotten (CONTINUED VERSION)

Pairings: Tony Stark x daughter!reader, Peter Parker x Stark!reader (platonic)

Request:

Hello i love your story could you do angsty tony x daughter reader. Wherein the reader has a twin brother and Tony and the avengers prefer the twin brother and becaus of that, the reader became rebel and badass. She always getting trouble and almost drop out student. The avengers and her father were seem disappointed and dont know what to do. Not until the reader involve into car accident and she's critical injured. The reader also slipped to coma. Everyone is devastated about the reader conditione. And they realized that the reader only rebel because she wants to get attention from them. It depends to you what the end come, I just want a full angst this week and I hope you dont mind my English. Anyway I hope your alright.

A/n: y’all wanted it, I finished it :)

Word count: 3,984

(more notes at the end!)

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort? bad writing of an anxiety attack, accident, knife, hospitals

read it on ao3!

gif not mine! credits to the owner^^

Being a genius/billionaire/superhero’s kid doesn’t always sound nice like it usually does.

You were one of the Stark twins, the other half being your brother, Ethan.

The both of you showed signs that you inherited the commonly known Stark trait (intelligence) at a young age. But Tony mostly focused on his son, showing him all his inventions and gadgets, teaching him everything he knew while you on the other hand, were being babysat by Happy or Pepper, sometimes Rhodey.

You tried so hard to get your father’s attention but he always had his excuses:

“I don’t have time for that.”

“I’m busy with Ethan right now.”

“Maybe later.”

At first you didn’t mind if your brother got all the praise and attention. It wasn’t until your mid-teens that you really started to feel left out and ignored.

You were left to frown when the other Avengers never found anything interesting about you, just like Tony did. They all liked Ethan better. The topic of him being the next Iron Man when Tony retires is getting exhausting.

There was this one time when Tony announced that they were all going out to dinner since Ethan got, yet again, a full set of A’s on his report card.

“Did you get my card?” You tapped on Tony’s shoulder lightly.

He gave you a side glance, “ah shoot, I forgot. I’ll go get it tomorrow.” Then returned his attention to your brother.

But he ended up forgetting again the next day and you had to convince your teacher to give it to you instead. Your marks had A’s, but littered with B’s as well, of course that was no match for your brother’s perfect marks.

And that sort of scenario wasn’t just a one time thing, Tony forgets to pick up your report card every. single. time. The messed up part was you and Ethan literally attended the same school, he was just in a more advanced class than you.

As time passed, Tony went from ignoring you to getting annoyed and pissed at you for everything you did. In his eyes, you were always in the wrong. And the reason? You didn’t know.

“Dad? Can I borrow Bruce for a minute?” You knocked on the glass door of his lab to get him to look up.

He didn’t, but responded, “kinda busy with him right now.”

You looked at your fractured arm, regretting your decisions. “W-well, Ethan was training with Nat, and... and he wanted to try the new moves he learned on me. He went a little hard and - I think my arm’s broken, I just wanted Bruce to check it out-”

“Goddammit!” He shouted after you heard a glass shatter. Bruce covered his face with palms, muttering an ‘oh no’.

Tony glared at you, striding to where you were standing. All that was left for you to do was to brace yourself for what was about to come. “See, this is why we never let you do anything with the team,” he spat. “That right there?”-he pointed to your arm-“that’s on you. Things go wrong because you’re in the way!”

“I’m... I’m sorry-”

“Just get out of here.”

Your arm remained untreated after that.

Then Peter Parker came into the picture. Friendly guy, he was actually nice to you. Him and Ethan got along right away when Tony first recruited him. The fact that he treated Peter better than you made you even more miserable. It made you think he never wanted a daughter in the first place.

You first met Peter when he accidentally entered your room without warning, thinking it was the bathroom. Cliche, but that’s what happened.

“It’s on the first door to your other left,” you stated.

“Yeah, yeah okay, thanks,” he turned around to leave but stopped to look at you again. “I’m Peter Parker, by the way.”

“Y/N Stark.”

Peter’s eyes lit up at your last name. “I... I didn’t know Mr. Stark had a daughter - no offense! It’s just-”

You sighed and waved him off. He didn’t even notice the similarities you had with your twin. “It’s fine. I get that a lot.”

After many events of being, to be blunt, treated like shit, you finally had enough. You neglected your studies, only went to school when you felt like it (which was rare). No one cared your grades anyway, so what’s the point? You became a whole new person, you surrounded yourself with the wrong sort of people, causing you to dabble into smoking and alcohol.

Since you were always in trouble, you could recite Cap’s detention speech at school by heart now.

The principal of your school wanted to see Tony to talk about your behavior. Normally he’d make an excuse not to go if it wasn’t that important but he got flooded with messages from the school, so he couldn’t say no.

You had your legs crossed, sitting across from Tony who had his eyebrows furrowed as he listened to the principal. For some reason you didn’t feel nervous. “Y/N barely attends her classes. I’ve seen every attendance. Are you aware of this, Mr. Stark?”

Tony only maintained his usual relaxed posture and avoided your gaze.

“Some students have also seen her smoke in school grounds. We gave her a few weeks suspension for it, but it doesn’t look like she’s learned her lesson.” They pulled out a couple boxes of cigarettes from the desk drawer. “We found these in her locker.”

“You went into my locker?” You shot up from your seat. “You can’t just do that!”

Tony cleared his throat and got up, gripping your wrist. “I’ll take it from here - will that be all?”

On the way out he doesn’t say a word to you, only that his grip on your wrist got tight as you near the car.

“So,” he started the car. His voice was calm, but it screamed that you were in deep trouble. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

You sighed and slouched in the passenger’s seat, crossing your arms. “I’m... sorry you had to know...?”

“Yeah, I’m just gonna be honest with you here,” Tony still doesn’t look at you. “When I found out I had two kids, I got worried about Ethan.”

You let out a snort. Of course he would.

“I didn’t want him ending up like me. But surprise surprise, my daughter did instead.”

“I’m not ‘ending up’ like you, Dad-”

“Then what do you call - this,” he referred to you. “What, you’re just gonna waste your life, drop out of school? You’re a fucking mess, Y/N, and here I thought I raised you right. Sometimes I think: why can’t you just be like your brother?” He had a hard grip on the steering wheel as he drove, the way he spoke affected the speed of the car greatly.

You opened your mouth to speak but you couldn’t fine the exact words you wanted to say. “I... well, I’m sorry I’m not a goody two shoes like him!”

“That’s not what I-”

“Please, that’s exactly what you meant.”

He scoffed, shaking his head. “Look, I’m grounding you until you pull yourself together, understand?” And he did. He gave new orders to Friday when the both of you got home. You weren’t allowed to leave the compound without Tony’s permission.

Were you giving up that easily? Of course not.

You were on your laptop for the rest of the day, hacking into Friday’s system, the security to the elevator and the entrance. That night, your executed your plan and everything went smoothly.

“This is why you never underestimate me,” you sighed, deactivating the hack once you were out of the building.

Your friend who was picking you up was already waiting a few blocks away from the compound. “I hope you’re cool with me staying over for a couple days.”

“If a bunch of Avengers come and destroy my place to look for you, I’m not going to be friends with you anymore.”

You laughed at out, “oh trust me, they don’t care.”

----

The next day no one noticed your absence, nobody did for another two days. Tony just assumed you were mad about your punishment, so he didn’t think of it much.

Not until Peter came to the compound on the third day, wanting to hang out with you.

“Whatcha got there, Pete?” Ethan asked.

“Star Wars movies. I wanna watch them with Y/N - she could use some company, don’t you think?”

The older Stark twin shrugged, “yeah, I guess she could.”

Peter then headed to the elevator and stopped at the floor where your room was. He knocked on your door and waited a bit, after a few minutes of silence he knocked again, still nothing.

“Y/N? Is it okay if I come in?” He called out. No response. He hesitated a bit, for all he knew you were probably changing or something, or you could be in danger. He went to open the door anyway. “I’m coming in, I’ll close my eyes just to be-”

To Peter’s surprise, your room was empty.

----

You were at a 711 parking lot, waiting for your friends who were buying supplies for a house party. You gave them your wallet, not really caring about anything anymore. Your phone was starting to pile up with messages and missed calls from Tony, Edward and Peter, occasionally from the others as you scrolled pass more.

Without thinking you threw your phone to the ground, cracking the screen, breaking it completely. They’d be able to track you through it now that they know you ran away. You really had no intention of coming back. You weren’t wanted, what’s the point of going back?It’s early but you’ve had a few drinks already. You weren’t sure if breaking your phone was a good idea but there’s one thing you’re sure: you didn’t care anymore.

You didn’t have to turn your head to see who just arrived and ambushed your friends inside the store. They ran out and left you behind. The sound of webs coming out of his shooters was enough for you to tell.

“You shouldn’t be here, Peter,” you sighed defeatedly.

Peter gently took a seat next to you, not removing his mask since you were in public and handed your wallet back. “I don’t understand why you left.”

He took in your awful state. His suit scanned how intoxicated you were, estimated how many cigarette packets you’ve had. His frown deepened at the information.

“I care about you. We all do. Mr. Stark’s not going to stop the search party until you come home.”

You rolled your eyes at the term. “Stupid search party – pathetic – I’m not coming home anymore, Pete-” you slurred and tried to get up but stumbled back, almost twisting your ankle but fell to Peter’s side. “Ow.”

He sighed, struggling to get ahold of you since you always pulled away.

“Stop being so stubborn, okay?”

“If you don’t like my stubborn fucking ass then maybe you should just leave,” you stated. “I’m not wanted there. I got the message. I didn’t run away just to be fucking found.”

Peter stared at you for a moment. He didn’t know why you got grounded in the first place, how you got here and why you didn’t want to go back home. There was something off in the father-daughter relationship, he knew that, but it was news to him that it was that bad. That bad for you to waste your life, to run away. He always thought Mr. Stark was an awesome parent, the way he was treating Ethan, and him…

“It’s unfair,” you ranted. “God, if you only knew how pathetic I feel whenever he tells me off. I’m always annoying to him - not just to him, to the whole team, I’m always wrong in everything I do and it’s honestly tiring? What the fuck do I have to do just to feel loved and wanted?”

You went on rambling while Peter tried to comfort and deny every negative thing that came out of your mouth. He didn’t believe any of it, but the way everyone’s been treating you. He hated that he didn’t notice sooner. He could’ve defended you.

“I have nothing against you, I really don’t,” you sighed. “But you should be grateful they’re treating you perfectly.” You got up and strode to the opposite direction, mentally cursing because your friends ditched you and you has nowhere to go, phone destroyed and everything.

But you were staying true to your word: you didn’t have any plans to go back to the compound. You were going to figure your life out on your own.

“Y/N, I… I’m not leaving you alone out here!”

You were so fed up of the spider-ling. How good he was, how perfect, how Tony clearly wanted him more than you, how he always wanted to do the right thing, because none of you expected what happened next when he went to grab your shoulder. The action was so sudden that it Peter didn’t have time to avoid it.

Knife, shoulder, really deep.

Maybe it was just how wasted you were, because he knew you would never do anything like that.

“You’re really annoying, Parker,” you muttered, not wasting any more time watching him stumble out of shock and pain, sprinting across the streets.

With his uninjured arm, he shot webs while trying to pull the knife (the blade wasn’t even visible anymore on how deep it was) out of his shoulder. There was a loud bang, and Peter never sprinted so fast in his life, not caring less about the pain and blood, because what mattered most was your safety. When he got there, you were far from safe.

-----

A week went by. And during those seven days Tony was on edge, I mean, how can be calm at a time like that?

Peter managed to show up at the compound the same night, breathless and shaky. His state made everyone worried but he wasted no time telling Tony what happened. He got you to the hospital, making sure you were being sorted out right before leaving to break the news.

Tony didn’t think twice and went to the hospital where you were admitted, not listening to Peter’s apologies and leaving Steve to sort everyone out on what they should do.

They didn’t expect you to show signs of waking up after only a week since the accident got you mangled up, it was mostly a blow to the head and as expected, you slipped into a coma.

Right, what happened: an awful timing really, not sure if Peter’s the one to blame but he accidentally stuck you to the ground with his webs, and it just so happened a car was driving at a fast speed – there you go.

Tony made sure you got the best treatment possible. He even went and asked Strange if he could do all the surgeries needed, but he declined, claiming he couldn’t anymore despite the sympathy he felt inside. Instead he asked the best doctors he knew, but still helped out sometimes in any way he could.

You took a breath, trying to open your eyes but the blinding lights of your room and them almost feeling as if they were glued shut from not being open for so long prevented you. You also tried moving your hands, only to feel a warm one rest on top of it, you finally opened your eyes.

“You’re awake,” Tony mumbled, rubbing a thumb on the back of your palm soothingly. “You’re awake and you’re okay.”

“Mr. Stark?” Peter called out, spotting his mentor sitting outside the room where they were doing the final surgery on you. It was his first time visiting, seeing as the knife wound was worse than he thought. “I’m so sorry, I-“

“What happened?” Was the only thing Tony said, not looking up to look at the kid. Peter stood there for a moment but told him everything that happened.

After that and after he made sure you were okay, resting in your room and everything, he let Natasha look after you for the night and headed back to the compound.

The kid would never lie to him but he had to see it all for himself. The Spider-Man suit caught everything through the baby monitor protocol. From when he arrived to the convenient store, when you told him countless of times that you weren’t coming back, and when your drunk self ranted about what you felt.

“What the fuck do I have to do just to feel loved and wanted?”

“He seemed to like both of us equally when we were younger,” you sniffled. “Of course he would, but… my brother just turned out to be special and talented and,” you frowned, “he’s all Tony ever wanted for a kid. Maybe I reminded him of the chick he fucked, I don’t know – must be it, right?”

“Y/N, you’re just as special as-” Peter tried to reason but you threw him a glare. Tony could see the pain and heartbreak in your bloodshot, tired eyes. One that said you didn’t want to hear anything like it anymore. You didn’t want to believe it.

“The thing is, they only want you when you’re gone. Missing. Dead,” you shrugged. “I can take a hint, you know? My only family hates me. My only family doesn’t want me. Now you – all of them – are looking for me… why?” Peter flinched at the loudness of your voice. You truly were broken.

Tony fast forwarded, it didn’t clearly show how you got hit, but he had enough anyway. He wanted to make things right with you. He could only hope that you make pass this, hoping that you’ll let him make it up to you.

“It’s not too late, you know,” Steve said from the entrance to his lab. “Y/N is strong. She’ll make it.”

“Why am I not dead?” You croaked, looking at your father with an anxious expression. You letting out another shaky breath as you struggled to move and look around. “I should be dead. Why am I here-”

“Take it easy-”

“Don’t you understand?” You felt your throat aching, breath quickening. “I don’t want to be here!”

“No, you’re okay. Y/N you’re okay,” Tony tried to calm you down when he saw the lines in your heart monitor go up and down in rapid pace. 

“I’m not - no I’m not - not okay,” you struggled to let out. It felt like you were choking on your own breath, getting harder and harder to breathe by the minute, soon tears started to prick your eyes. “I don’t want to be here!”

“Tony, what's going on?” Steve bursted into the room with an alarmed but calm expression.

“Call Strange. Anyone.” He told the captain but his eyes never left you. He rubbed a part of your arm that wasn’t injured soothingly in attempt to calm you down. “Just breathe for me, okay? I’m here and you’re okay.”

Something about the softness and encouraging look in his eyes made you nod eventually and follow his breathing patterns. He held a glass of water for you to drink, holding your struggling hand softly to get it out of the way.

He’s never looked at you like that before.

Most of the time he ignored you, most of the time he looked at you at anger or annoyance when you’ve fucked something up.

“There we go, we okay now?” You looked away and nodded lightly. That was enough for him. Tony wanted to let you know how sorry he was so bad, but thought against it, at least for now. He was scared you might start freaking out again.

Stephen entered the room with the doctor, the other Avengers following closely behind. The amount of people in the room overwhelmed you a bit, but you were strangely calm because of how your father’s acting. Soft and caring, it made you feel safe.

Both doctors concluded that you had some sort of amnesia. In English, your past memories were blotchy, all of them even from your childhood. Again because of the blow to the head it was already expected. But you remembered the recent ones clearly, which was the reason why you avoided looking at Peter and his patched up arm.

Which also meant it was possible you didn’t remember all of the pain you felt concerning your family. It was unfair on your part.

Strange insisted that you stay a few more days, or one more week, just to run tests and make sure you get enough medicine and stuff.

They decided to see how bad your memory loss was.

“I did that to you,” you still refused to look at Peter completely. “I’m sorry, Peter.”

“I’m just glad you’re okay.” Peter gave you a smile.

You moved to the next person. Red hair, seemed to give off a friendly but civil nature. “Natasha? You’re Natasha.”

The Russian merely smiled and crossed her arms.

“Steve,” you stated, moving to the next person. “You always read old books in the kitchen.”

Steve chuckled, nodding to confirm.

“Ethan,” you smiled as you looked at your twin. He gave you a small wave even if he felt as guilty as Tony about everything even if he wasn’t the one to blame.

You stared longer at the next person, almost shoulder length dark brown hair, he’s wearing a jacket to cover his metal arm but you knew it was still there.

“Ducky?”

Peter let out a giggle, so did you brother.

“It’s Bucky, doll,” Bucky smiled, covering his face with his hand to suppress a chuckle as the rest laughed.

“Oh, right, I’m sorry,” you let out a weak giggle yourself.

You meet Tony’s eyes again, the softness still there.

“Dad,” you stated. “You’re my dad. Tony.”

No, you didn’t completely forget how he treated you. You knew he was annoyed with you, which lead you to think that you did something that made him act that way. “Am I bad?”

Tony’s hopeful expression dimmed. “What do you mean, sweetheart?”

You shrugged. “You’re mad at me, I just… I guess it’s just not clear on why.”

Steve thought it would be best for everyone to head out for a bit so he ushered everyone out of the room except for your brother who took a seat at the corner.

“About that, it’s about time we talked, yeah?” Tony sat on a chair backwards beside your bed. It made you nervous, but you were reassured. “You’re not in trouble, don’t worry.”

He exhaled, resting an arm on the top rail. “You deserve so much better. I should’ve treated you better,” you opened your mouth to ask but he continued. “Look, I haven’t been fair with you and it’s a problem. You’re smart, talented and beautiful. I figured you needed to hear it more often because it’s true. What I’m trying to say is, I’m sorry. I really am.”

Your bottom lip involuntarily trembled. “You – you really mean that?”

“From the bottom of my heart.”

You sighed, a genuine smile plastered on your face. “Thank you. And I’m sorry if I was a pain in the ass-“

“You never were,” Tony shook his head. “You always did your best and I really should have acknowledged it more. Give me a second chance?”

“Of course.”

Tony smiled, getting up and planting a gentle kiss to your forehead.

Everything in life was so much better after all that. Tony treated you and Ethan equally, same goes for Peter. The other Avengers were nicer, not the kind of nice that was almost fake, but it was genuine. All of them were. And you were thankful.

----

TAGLIST: @contanto-que-voce-me-queira @angeldreineedshelp @legendarymcnuggies @zoeyserpentluck @vienmiaprendere @alainabooks143 @hessogxlden

DID ANYONE MISS ME? BC I MISSED THIS PLACE

I highly doubt anyone’s still waiting for this, it was an unplanned hiatus I’M SO SORRY but I decided to post anyway :))

also I hope this wasn’t underwhelming, that’s one of the reasons why I was hesitant to do this but I hope its good heh (I’ve included the parts from my first post as well, just so it feels like a full fic)

WAIT I ALSO HIT 300 FOLLOWERS? INSANE. THANK YOU. I MEAN IT.

[sturchling]

Hey can you do a daminette fanfic where marinette transfers to gotham because of lila's lies and becomes the class favourite, then lila's class goes to gotham for a trip and, unlike the french class, this one can see through her lies and work together with damien to protect marinette and expose lila. Adrijon pairing and lila salt and alya salt please

Marinette felt nervous as she approached the gates of Gotham Academy. She had never thought she would leave Dupont, let alone Paris. Now, here she stands in a new country, at a new school, on the other side of the world from her home. She had never wanted to leave Paris, she truly did love the city. But Lila hadn’t left her a lot of options.

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

Lila had stayed true to her word for once. She had systematically removed Marinette from her friends. Marinette had been so sure that her friends would see through any lies Lila told about her. But it didn’t take much from Lila to convince the class that Marinette was nothing more than a bully. It had been heartbreaking. Marinette had tried everything she could to convince the class that Lila was a liar and tried to prove her innocence but nothing worked. The only people that believed her were Adrien and Chloe.

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

Adrien obviously knew that Lila was lying and stayed by Marinette’s side, despite the class’ pressure to leave the bluenette. Chloe believing her had surprised Marinette. But Chloe had known Lila was a liar since that incident with the Ladybug summoning dance. Of course, even without that, Chloe would have known. She may not like Marinette, but even she knew that it was utterly ridiculous to think of the girl as a bully. Marinette was the furthest thing from a bully. 

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

But as time went by, even their support wasn’t enough. The class got worse. They were harassing Marinette any chance that they had, and Adrien and Chloe couldn’t be with Marinette constantly, though they tried. It was eventually decided by Marinette’s family that a change of scenery would be good. They looked at several study abroad programs, eventually deciding on Gotham Academy. The school was excellent and even had a very well reputed arts program. It was perfect for Marinette. Luckily, Gina had a friend in Gotham named Alfred that she had met on her travels who, after speaking with his employer, agreed to host Marinette during her time in Gotham. Soon, Marinette was packed and on her way to Gotham.

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

That is how Marinette found herself living at Wayne Manor, in Gotham, about to start a new life at a new school. To say she was nervous would be an understatement. She would have been even more nervous, if not for Damian standing at her side. When she moved into the manor with Alfred, she was introduced to his employer, Bruce Wayne and his sons, Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian. They all immediately like Marinette, as a lot of people had a tendency to do. They quickly started acting like her older brothers, and made Marinette feel at home in Gotham. 

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

So, on her first day at Gotham Academy, she was being escorted in by all of the Wayne boys. She was in the same class as Damian, which made her feel slightly calmer. Damian had agreed to stay by her side, knowing how nervous she was to meet her new class. After everything that happened in Mrs. Bustier’s class, Marinette was worried that the same thing might happen here. That she might become the class outcast and be alone again. 

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

Needless to say, that obviously didn’t happen. When Marinette was escorted into the classroom by Damian Wayne, it definitely got the attention of her new class. Damian wouldn’t hang out with just anyone. They became curious about this new girl, and were instantly charmed by Marinette. The whole class became very fond of the designer and they were all fast friends. And they acted like friends. They didn’t always ask Marinette for impossible favors, and they helped Marinette as much as she helped them.  Adrien and Chloe would often visit her as well, and when they couldn’t visit they made sure to video call with her everyday. Marinette was the happiest she had been in a long while, starting to forget the problems she had in Paris. 

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

 But trouble had a way of finding Marinette. It was during one of their video calls, that Marinette found out that Mrs. Bustier’s class was participating in a program that had them visit classrooms around the world and learn how schools taught in different countries. And of course, the American school they would be visiting is Gotham Academy. And of course, it was Marinette’s class that they would be joining for the week. Just like that, all of Marinette’s worries came crashing back. What if Lila targeted her again? What if Bustier’s class started harassing her again? Or worse. What if Lila turned her new class against her? 

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

Damian had grown quite close with Marinette over the last several months. They had even begun dating, much to Gotham’s collective surprise. He had learned almost everything there was to know about Marinette and loved her quirky personality. So, when Marinette grew quiet and nervous like she had been when she first arrived in Gotham, Damian quickly noticed the change in her behavior. Marinette changed almost immediately after her latest video call with her friends. He tried talking to her, to try and fix whatever was wrong. But she would just say “I’m fine.” and walk away, trying to handle everything herself. She didn’t want to bother Damian with her drama. But Damian wasn’t going to give up, he was going to help his angel with whatever was bothering her. 

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

He also had contact information for Adrien and Chloe so he reached out to the two, trying to figure out what had changed during that video call. That is when he found out about the visiting Parisian class. He instantly knew what Marinette was worried about. She must be worried about the liar making people hate her again. As much as he wished that she wouldn’t worry about it and trust that her friends here would have her back, he couldn’t expect that after what happened in Paris. Of course she would still be worried about it. But Damian was going to make sure that not only did the liar not mess anything up here, he was also going to keep that horrible class as far from his angel as he could.

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

He only had about a week to get things in place, but that was enough for Damian. He gathered the class together one morning, when Marinette was out of the classroom. He told them everything he knew about the Parisian class and what they had done to Marinette. Needless to say, Marinette’s new class despised the Parisians before they even arrived. They couldn’t believe everything they had done to Marinette, but they were determined to protect their friend for the whole week. And to try and destroy the liar that had hurt her. They had no idea what kind of lies to expect from this Lila girl, but they knew she must be a gifted liar to make anyone think that Marinette is a bully.

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

Bustier’s class had arrived and Lila wasted no time trying to impress the Gotham class. She went on and on about her usual stories, while also adding in some new Gotham centric ones. Like how she had helped Batman several times, and how she is very close with the Waynes, practically dating Damian. But then immediately contradicted that by claiming that she was dating Adrien Agreste, completely ignoring when Adrien denied it in front of everyone. Mrs. Bustier’s class ate it all up, as usual. But the Gotham class just stood in shock. This girl was a terrible liar. How did this other class believe a word she said?

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

But Marinette’s worries were partially realized fairly quickly. Once Mrs. Bustier’s class saw her sitting in the classroom, they started in on her. Lila tried to cry about how Marinette had bullied her and the rest of Mrs. Bustier’s class started yelling at Marinette. The young designer started to shrink into herself, until she noticed that none of her new classmates seemed to buy it. They were all glaring at Mrs. Bustier’s class and circling around Marinette to shield her from her old class. 

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

Mrs. Bustier’s class finally noticed that the Gotham class was shielding Marinette and glaring at them. Alya became infuriated that they were standing in the way of them defending Lila. “Why are you protecting her?! She is nothing more than a bully! She bullied Lila horribly when she was in Paris, you have no idea what she did!” Lila pulled out the fake tears and cried some sob story about all the horrible things Marinette had done to her, expecting that when she peaked out from her hands after, this new class would now turn against Marinette and be glaring at her. But when she did look, this class didn’t look impressed. They were still glaring at her, some even rolling their eyes.

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

Lila, after seeing this, quickly turned back to her class, realizing that this Gotham class wouldn’t be easily swayed. “They don’t believe me! I’m just trying to warn them!” The Parisian class consoled their crying friend, while Alya stepped forward to defend her friend. “How could you keep protecting that monster?! She bullied my best friend and is a horrible person!” The Gotham class collectively rolled their eyes, before Damian stepped forward, having heard enough. “We are still protecting her because unlike you, we don’t turn on our friends on the word of a liar.” Lila wailed louder, trying to earn some sympathy, which just enraged Alya more. “How dare you! Lila isn’t a liar! Where is your proof that she is?!” Damian pulled out his iciest glare, making most of Mrs. Bustier’s class back away. “Where is your proof that she is telling the truth? Regardless, I know she is a liar. Marinette is the sweetest girl I have ever met, a literal angel. There is no way she would bully anyone. Besides that, I know that the liar’s stories about the Wayne family are completely made up.” Lila whips around, forgetting that she is supposed to be upset, angered that this boy had called out her best lies in front of this new class. “And how do you know that huh?! Not like you would know the Waynes. I will get my Damian down here and he will make you regret calling me a liar.” 

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

The Gotham class couldn’t hold it in anymore. They all started howling with laughter at the liar who didn’t realize what she just did. Even Marinette had started to smile.  Lila shrieked, “What’s so funny?! Why are you all laughing?!” Damian stared coldly at Lila. “They are laughing cause you just said you are dating Damian Wayne and didn’t even recognize him standing in front of you. I am Damian Wayne, and I have never met you before.” Lila stood shocked, trying to think of anyway out of this. “W-well, I said we were practically dating. Besides, I am dating Adrien.” Adrien had had enough and pushed to the front to stand in front of Lila. “No you are not! I don’t like you. I have never liked you. Besides, I am dating someone else.” As if on que, which if you ask him he will deny that this was planned, Jon Kent burst through the door making a beeline for Adrien. “Sunshine! Finally came to see me again! Jon hugged Adrien tightly, while Mrs. Bustier’s class just stared in shock. They had really thought that Adrien and Lila were dating, but keeping it quiet so his dad didn’t find out. Or at least, that is what Lila had said. Slowly they began to realize that maybe just because Lila said so, doesn’t mean that it is true. 

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

The rest of the week was spent quietly. Lila kept trying to win over this new class, while also trying to win back favor with Mrs. Bustier’s class but that was a lost cause. Alya kept trying to defend her friend, refusing to acknowledge that she was a liar. The rest of Mrs. Bustier’s class did finally see the light though and apologized to Marinette. Marinette did forgive them, but they still weren’t going to be friends again. The damage to the relationships was too much. The week at Gotham had ended for Mrs. Bustier’s class and they left. Things returned to normal for Marinette. She was surrounded by Damian and her new friends, who truly cared for her. She was the happiest she had been in ages, and was finally able to rid herself of the fear that Lila would ruin everything again. She felt safe and happy, and nothing was going to change that. 

[watchtowerindistress]

we are not our demons (14/24) - bruce wayne x batmom

Gif source: edwardsmunsons

Author’s note: As you can probably tell from the middle part, this follows into Suicide Squad.

Damian's and Dick's appearance was pretty much impromptu here, but it actually fit in the story. What can I say? I love it when my muse just demands their presence. I'm a little sucker for Damian, sue me.

Beta-read by Heidi.

Words: 3.2k

Warning: language

Please reblog/leave a comment.

Series Masterlist | Want to be tagged? | Read on AO3

And you had a lot on your mind now

Your mind (your mind), it’s true

So, tell me the truth was it me than

Who needed you (you)

— You by Two Feet -

It turned out that working under Bruce Wayne had its perks. Either that was the reason for him letting Ellie leave at 3 pm—it was more of an order judging by the text message she received—or it had more to do with her functionality as technical support in a certain cave.

As soon as his name swiped over her screen in a notification, her heart jumped wildly beneath her rib cage. Damn him and his astounding ability to monopolize all of her sentiments. As much as Ellie tried to ‘get over’ what happened last night, it was hard to forget about that kiss.

All warm and soft. Making her all gooey inside while she forgot everything around her.

The cool wind stroking the side of her head was like a wake-up call to her surroundings after she exited through the transparent doors of Wayne Enterprises. Heavy raindrops pelted down her umbrella with every step outside.

Despite wearing thick-rimmed glasses covering her face, her eyes still constricted to prove to herself what she was seeing wasn’t a mirage. If her glasses weren’t fooling her, the man himself who had been clouding her mind before, was leaning like a devil-may-care billionaire against his sleek, black Aston Martin parked at the curb. His feet were crossed, and one hand was safely hidden in the pockets of his pants while the other held up his own umbrella from the severe weather conditions.

Before Ellie knew it, she was standing a few feet away from him and tilted her head in speculation. Her eyes whipped around, like she was scandalized at the thought of being seen with Bruce.

“What are you doing?”

Bruce shrugged his shoulders, as if there was nothing wrong. “Parking my car. Why? Is there something wrong with it?” He had to raise his voice to be heard over the biting wind.

Ellie inched the strap of her purse higher to ward off the autumn chill, despite the coat she was wearing. As far as she remembered, Bruce was a human heater, so she was a bit flabbergasted that he needed a warm, black overcoat over his suit—of course, everything in a classic black—that gave him a mysterious aura.

Ellie pursed her lips, playing along with him. “Nope. I just wondered what the following words meant—” She whipped out her phone to correctly quote the message Bruce had sent to her. “You can go home now. PS—not a request.” Ellie looked up again. “Short question: how close were you to using caps to get your message across?”

Bruce rolled his eyes.

So, that’s where Damian got it from. Or maybe his son was finally rubbing off on him.

“I don’t write in caps, ever. Just…” Bruce’s smile seemed strained when he nudged his head towards the car. “Just get in the car, Ellie.”

Ellie sighed lowly. “Your manners are getting worse, Bruce.”

He groaned at her words, turning his body sideways. “You sound like Alfred.”

“Ah, so it must be true then.” Without waiting for his gentleman ways to show up, Ellie turned to the passenger door, only to find it still locked. “Bruce, will you do the honors?” the young woman sighed.

Bruce furrowed his eyebrows playfully. “If you say ‘please’.”

Ellie’s voice turned saccharine. “Please, for the love of God, open this frigging door, so I can finally purr inside the warmth of your car.”

With a smirk on his face, Bruce lifted the car keys in the air and flamboyantly pressed a button.

At his display of arrogance, Ellie rolled her eyes. “God, I forgot what a dick you could be sometimes,” she complained under her breath and released a sigh as soon as she was in the cozy, warm safety of the Aston. At once, Ellie was forced to take her glasses off to let their fogged-up state disappear over time.

Bruce was still chuckling mirthfully when he got inside as well, letting the inside of the car make a purring sound. He barely showed any reaction when Ellie asked, “And Alfred’s okay with me operating the system tonight?”

Bruce made a grunting sound. “You keep on asking that question, Ellie. But don’t worry about that. It’ll be a relief for Alfred to worry less about me, you know? Maybe you guys can find some sort of accord.”

“So, you only want me to worry about you tonight? Alright.” Ellie rubbed her hands together, slowly getting used to the toasty-warm feeling flowing through her fingers. “Have you talked to Babs recently?”

Bruce raised his eyebrows and sent her a piercing glance—long enough to make her worry about their safety—as he was meandering through the thick traffic of Gotham. Bruce turned his gaze back through the windshield once he saw her facial expression.

Ellie’s eyes shifted anxiously to her twiddling thumbs before her hands spasmed in her lap. Instead, she chose to place her glasses back on the bridge of her nose. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just—I don’t know.” Ellie exhaled jadedly through her mouth. “I’m getting the feeling that Babs feels lonely. I feel guilty that I don’t talk to her more often.”

“I’m going to talk to Alfred about that. Maybe I’ll have a chat with her later on.”

“Okay, great.” Ellie breathed out a sigh of relief.

Bruce sent her a furtive glance out of the corner of his eye. “Feeling better now?”

She smiled shyly with a small nod. “Immensely, yes. Thank you.”

Bruce nodded, pleased with that. “Anytime.”

The rest of the car ride was spent in amicable conversation. Temporarily, it actually made her forget the obvious elephant riding along in the car, and it surprised her how Bruce could talk about anything else but that kiss. Ellie brushed a few hairs behind her ear and simultaneously peeked at him from under her eyelashes.

They were winding down the unpaved pathway which suggested they were about five minutes from their destination. Bruce didn’t even have to glance back at her to feel her inquiring look on him. “What?”

Ellie shook her head. “Nothing.” Maybe she should just follow his lead and ignore their kiss ever happened.

The pebble stones made a crunching sound under his wheels before Bruce steered the car into the garage. Silently, they stepped out of the vehicle. The temperature inside wasn’t as cool as it was outside, so Ellie unbuttoned her coat and walked alongside Bruce through the corridor.

“Why don’t you get inside the cave already? I need to get some things first. I’ll be right behind you. Wait, let me take your coat.”

“Alright. Thanks.” Ellie nodded her head in agreement and took the jacket off her shoulders into his waiting arms, surprised by Bruce’s hindsight and care, before their paths inevitably separated.

Barely a few minutes of rebooting the computer system passed when the dull thuds of Bruce’s footsteps entered the Batcave.

Something smelled delicious in the air. Her nostrils flared, sniffing the new scent spreading around the lair before a ‘Big Belly Burger’ paper bag was gently placed on the metallic bench next to the keyboard.

“Uh, …” Ellie felt far too speechless to let other words slip through her mouth. Her eyes met his with a silent question.

“It’s going to be a long night, Ellie,” Bruce said without contributing anything else. “There’s a burger inside, you know, and some fries to tide you over.”

“Thanks.” Ellie smiled appreciatively before opening the bag to take a long and ecstatic sniff of its contents. “Extra onion rings and sauce to practically drown in?”

“Of course.”

“Perfect,” Ellie sighed blissfully.

Bruce leaned with the insides of his palms against the edge of the table. “Can you get me access to the Iceberg Lounge? I need CCTV of the nightclub and the map for its street corner.”

Ellie asked the rhetorical question, “Did I hack the database of the FBI when I was 12?” After the rise of Bruce’s eyebrow, she elaborated with a careful speaking tempo, “I mean, not that I would actually do that.”

Bruce huffed at her statement before crossing his arms over his chest, choosing not to add anything else.

The cave was filled with her accelerated keystrokes until a street map expanded on the computer screen, revealing the zoomed-in location of the nightclub.

“Put the live feed of the Iceberg Lounge on the big screen.” Bruce already turned away and shifted his focus on the massive TV screen suspended close to the ceiling facing her.

“Alright, you got it.” While Ellie did her hacker magic—as she liked to call it—and her eyes focused on the code flowing down her screen, she spoke, “You know, I wonder if it should surprise me that Penguin doesn’t have more airtight security. I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s still a bit harder to breach than Arkham.”

Bruce could barely snort with derision before the computer display and the linked television revealed the club’s footage. “I’ll try to find you a more sophisticated security network next time.”

“Oh, please. I’d love that.” Ellie made a praying motion in thanks to Bruce’s insight to her craving more of a challenge.

Ellie turned in her chair to watch the staff’s movements on the big screen with Bruce, silently wondering if she was allowed to call it the Bat-TV.

Absent-mindedly, her fingers dug into her fast-food selection and scarfed down two fries at once. She stood up from her chair with a heavy sigh and stopped next to Bruce.

“Not a lot going on right now.” She licked the salt from the tips of her fingers. “I reckon it’s going to be more exciting at 6 PM when the club officially opens.” Ellie swiveled her head expectantly to her left until her brown eyes lingered on Bruce. “So, what’s the plan here?”

“Did you—?”

“Yep.” The brunette woman chewed rapturously on the potato fry, feeling grateful for Bruce getting her some French Fries since it had been some time since she had those. “Facial recognition is running through the system for Joker and Quinn. The moment they’ll enter this place we’ll know.”

“Good.” Bruce nodded, pleased with that development before his head turned towards her again in consideration. “Did Ivy mention the time of Joker’s deal taking place?”

With her lips pursed, Ellie tilted her head. “Not exactly. Only that it would occur at night.”

Bruce shrugged, becoming resolute in his determination. “I’m going to hit the streets then.” The intent in Bruce’s eyes became obvious. “Can I count on you to stay here?”

Ellie rolled her eyes, cocking her head at the absurd insinuation. “Expensive drinks and lousy atmosphere? No, thank you, Sir. I may like penguins, but I have no interest in meeting this one.”

Snorting chuckles left Bruce as he stalked away to suit up.

Ellie had the first bite of her gifted burger and was relishing in the special spicy ‘Big Belly’ sauce when it dribbled down the corner of her mouth.

“I smell food!” Dick’s voice called out in elation when he bounded down the stairs, seemingly exceptionally motivated by the delicious smell. His youngest brother Damian followed behind him, but with a slower pace and not as enthusiastic.

Ellie’s eyebrows lifted in the air at Dick’s nose smelling the finest scents in his environment. “No, you don’t!” she exclaimed in defense and turned her body away to shield her food from him, but it was already too late. “You’re like a bloodhound, Dick,” Ellie mumbled quietly.

He was within reach when his fingers delved into her white bag with the red, yellow and white emblem at the side. Before Ellie could even protest, Dick devoured a handful of fries.

“No one told me there was going to be food,” he replied through a mouthful of food.

Ellie’s narrowed eyes were aimed at Dick’s thieving hands. She was more disgruntled than truly annoyed. “Gee, I wonder why.”

With his mouth still chewing, he replied, “Wow, you’re as bad as Dami when it comes to sharing, huh?”

Damian’s only answer was to sigh.

Dick’s gaze met the computer display which had the facial recognition program running through the system. His features darkened once the two mugshots caught his eye. “Bonnie and Clyde, huh? I’m guessing our dear ol’ dad is playing cops and robbers without telling me,” Dick pondered under his breath.

“Uh…” The objection of the blue-eyed man sounded legit, but sometimes it was hard to understand Bruce’s plans when he refused to divulge them. “I’m sure Bruce has a strategy that he didn’t unfold yet.”

Dick only sighed before crossing his arms. “No need to sound like a diplomat, Ellie. Is that the Iceberg Lounge?”

Ellie hummed meekly in agreement before Dick mumbled, “We’re going to need more food.”

Damian was a silent companion at her left side while Dick did a quick snack run into the kitchen.

“You’re not supervising Dick’s every move?” Ellie sent Damian, who took a seat next to her, an inquiring glance that bordered on teasing. It surprised her that he harbored no issues in sitting so close to her.

As a reply, Damian shrugged, like he couldn’t care less what Dick did in his free time. “I will see what he brings.”

“Did someone call my name?”

Ellie rolled her eyes before she could stop that gesture.

“Here, I got you your yogurt, Damian.”

The younger boy’s grunt was the equivalent of a pleased affirmation. Those small grunts really came close to the sounds Bruce uttered sometimes. Ellie’s eyes caught the label on the lid of the yogurt cup.

“Soy yogurt with berries?” she asked with a curious nature.

“I’m a vegetarian,” Damian declared before his spoon popped into his mouth.

Ellie’s eyebrows rose in the air at that new development which came out of nowhere. “What? And no one cared to tell me? Why didn’t Alfred mention that months ago when I asked him about your guys’ allergies?”

Her eyes caught Damian’s softening, although Dick wrapping his arm around hers diverted her attention. “You’re adorable, Ellie.”

She only nudged the man’s side playfully, though the comfy feeling in her belly showed her how comfortable she felt in their company.

The beeping sound emanating from the Batcomputer brought her back to the present. Ellie slid her chair close to find the system had detected their fugitives. “Back to work,” Ellie mumbled and opened her line to reach Bruce’s communication link.

“Batman, come in.”

“I’m here. Any news?”

Ellie kept a close eye on the green-haired psychopath and his sidekick entered the stage while replying, “Affirmative. I’ve got eyes on Quinn and the Joker. They just got into the nightclub.”

“Copy. I see Joker’s Lamborghini,” Bruce commented distastefully—either from Joker’s choice of color, the model in general, or maybe that personalized license plate—before he got serious again. “I’ll let you know when there’s a new type of development. Out.”

At the end of his transmission, Ellie shut off her comm link and leaned back in her chair, exhaling loudly. “Why does this feel like it’s going to be a long night?”

“Perhaps your intuition is trying to tell you something,” Damian surmised flatly. Two heads turned towards him with blank stares.

“What?” The young boy wondered, truly perplexed by their reaction. “I wasn’t insulting anybody.”

Dick’s boisterous munching of popcorn made a crunching sound in the silent cave. If she wasn’t as focused on the high-speed chase between Batman and the Joker—

it was more like the masked knight was lying on the hood of the car, trying to get the upper hand—

Ellie would have said some words about Dick’s manners, or lack thereof.

Ever since he ditched the Batmobile, and the dashboard camera footage wasn’t available, her only source was the CCTV live feed of the city.

“Are you feeling entertained, Dick?”

He shrugged, but still kept on stuffing his face. “What can I say? It’s been some time since I’ve seen a high-speed chase. I’ll take what I can get.”

The dwindling number of feeds was starting to worry her. “I won’t be able to be of much help. There aren’t a lot of CCTV cameras Downtown.”

“I’m aware,” Bruce grunted through their transmission link.

Ellie’s eyebrows creased when Joker’s route started to dawn on her, and after a second glance at the map, she announced through Bruce’s radio link, “Batman, Joker’s close to Gotham Harbor.”

There was radio silence on his end. Ellie pursed her lips in anxiety when he didn’t react to her notification. “Batman, do you copy?” She thrummed her fingers against the desk when the deafening buzz of their connection touched her ears. “Damn it, remote control,” Ellie muttered under her breath.

She was practically operating on autopilot when she synchronized with remote control the Batmobile to the transmitter in Bruce’s suit. Letting it navigate swiftly through Gotham’s traffic until it finally arrived at its destination. She was grateful to Bruce’s prescience in providing all the suits with a GPS locator and included health stats to observe their well-being during missions.

Ellie nibbled on her bottom lip while the location of Batman in the harbor didn’t soothe her concerns. His heartbeat was slightly elevated.

Dick crossed his arms over his chest. “Who knew that Bruce’s paranoia would one day pay off?”

“Paranoia doesn’t have to be a bad thing, you know?” Damian retorted from her left.

He sent his adoptive brother a thorough glimpse over her shoulder. “You guys really are related,” Dick grumbled lightly.

“Guys, hush.” Ellie didn’t expect to be the voice of reason in the end, but desperate times. She tilted her head in befuddled scrutiny of the screen revealing Bruce’s location being congruent with the tracker on the Lamborghini. “Did the Joker ditch his car?”

Ellie’s breathing returned to normal when Bruce’s bulking figure stepped into the view of the dashboard camera, with Harley Quinn hanging over his shoulder.

“Dude, he ditched his girlfriend,” Dick recapped in bafflement.

Harley Quinn’s dripping body was laid on the hood of the Batmobile before Bruce—after a serious length of hesitation—put his mouth on hers and attempted to return life into her lungs.

They had a pretty good view of the Bat blowing air between Harley’s lips—

Ellie was unable to comprehend what she was witnessing when all of a sudden, Harley’s pale hand reached for the back of his cowl and her mouth crashed vigorously into his.

Fervently kissing him.

Ellie’s heart stuttered in her chest at the unsettling display and even more that Bruce needed four excruciating seconds to sever their lips. There was a simmering ache settling low in her belly. Ellie cursed herself for feeling this way in the first place.

Dick’s slothful, almost slow-motion, nibbling aroused true irritation on her face when she turned her head. That and judging from his twinkling eyes gave her the sobering impression that he didn’t mind this type of entertainment this night had turned into.

Ellie’s focus was barely on Bruce’s radio transmission when he announced gruffly, “The Joker got away. I got Harley Quinn. Sending her to Arkham now.”

Dick’s feelings were clear as day when he groaned and threw his head back.

Her voice sounded terse when she relayed, “Copy and out.”

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