#but sitting out in thunderstorms feels like he’s visiting jason’s

[stressedanime]

thinking about nico, who should be weary of thunderstorms bc of the big man upstairs, sitting outside in the rain and watching the lightning because it reminds him of jason

[forevfangirlwrites]

Okay so I absolutely loved actress! Annabeth but how about a cute little sequel where Percy and Annabeth have been dating and it's the first time they're going to an awards show together and Percy sees Annabeth like really all dressed up for the first time and just fluff soft Percy who still can't believe he's dating her. Or like Percy visits her on set and is just in awe of her idk I have like a thousand different scenarios for this AU sorry love you writing though!

Part 1: Here

When Annabeth had given him a pass and told him he's free to visit anytime, he had nervously accepted it and never thought that he’d actually ever use it.

But since he’s gotten an impromptu day off, he musters up some courage and desperately tries not to look as lost as he feels as he approaches the row of buildings. But he’s a New Yorker through and through and has perfected the careless indifference that comes with occasionally getting lost on confusing NY streets.

He walks up to the gate and casually waves his pass at the guards, apparently doing such a good job at looking like he belongs that after a quick check, they let him go wordlessly. 

He breathes a sigh of relief, even though everything he’s doing is completely legal and his girlfriend is the main star of the film.

Holy shit, The Annabeth Chase is his girlfriend. You'd think after so many months he’d be used to it, but it’s a freakout he has twice a week, usually while he’s doing something especially mundane, like making coffee.

Except he’s not making coffee and this is not the time to freak out, so he quells his emotions as he slips into the background of set 8, where the highly anticipated Mark Of Athena starring Annabeth Chase is being filmed.  

Dressed in an unassuming jeans and t-shirt, he blends in with the crew in the back and follows everyone’s line of sight to the front where a hall is made up with a giant Athena statue hovering over the scene.

And right there, in the middle, is his girlfriend. Cut up, beaten in, holding a dagger and glaring furiously at someone blocked by cameras. 

He can’t even begin to care about what’s going on in the scene, doesn’t even hear the lines she’s delivering, because all he can focus on is just how stunning she looks.

Her clothes are ripped and her hair is a mess, but there’s a thunderstorm raging in her eyes, her expression set so fiercely he can see the determination and tiredness rolling off of her.

She looks like she could go on forever.

He can’t tear his eyes away and he doesn’t even realize they’ve ended the take until Annabeth relaxes, turning towards the director, eyes sweeping the room and landing on him.

“Percy?” she gasps, running up to him so easily that he has to remember that the cuts on her legs are fake.

He can tell he’s surprised her and her hand goes up to fix her hair before pausing a moment (probably remembering she shouldn’t mess with her look) and dropping to the side.

“I didn’t expect you to be here today,” she continues, looking a little nervous.

Immediately, Percy’s face falls. He knew he shouldn’t have taken her up on her offer, now she looks uncomfortable.

“I can leave,” he replies quickly, backing into the darkness a little more.

“No, no!” Annabeth reaches a hand out to stop him, her fingers wrapping around his wrist. “I didn’t mean it like that, it’s just...today is this big fight scene and I look extra…” she trails off.

“Beautiful?” he supplies.

He’s managed to surprise Annabeth Chase twice in the span of two minutes. It's a new personal record.

She laughs quietly, the traces of nervousness gone as she offers him a smile. “You’re sweet.”

He shakes his head. “No, Annabeth, I mean you…” he flounders for a moment, trying to find the words. “You look, I mean you always look stunning no matter what, but right there in that scene, you looked ethereal. Like you were meant to fight wars and win. You look...undefeatable.” 

Annabeth’s mouth actually opens at the words, and she just stands there staring at him for long enough that he’s afraid he’s done something wrong.

“Annabe—”

Her lips press against his before he can even finish the word and finally he has himself an armful of Annabeth pressed up against him, arms coming to wrap around his neck. She kisses him hard, like she really did just get back from fighting a war, like it’s been years.

(In Percy’s head, it has been.)

They pull away slowly, smiling at each other, and he wants so badly to tangle his fingers in her hair and cup her face, but the cuts remind him that he shouldn't. The last thing he wants is to be kicked off set by the makeup team.

"You're something else, Percy Jackson," she tells him, untangling herself from his embrace and taking a step back.

"I hope that's a good thing," he jokes, suddenly all too aware that there are quite a few people looking at them now.

Annabeth grabs his hand, intertwining their fingers. "The best. Now come on, you're just in time for lunch."

-.-

He drives her to his place once she's done, after spending the remaining time on set keeping out of everyone's way and talking with Jason once he finally arrives.

Annabeth claims that she loves his place, though he’s not sure why. It’s a small, slightly cramped one bedroom apartment and it’s probably the size of her whole kitchen. 

As soon as she’s through the door, she drops her bag unceremoniously on the ground and Percy stares at the name brand, thinking that it’s probably the nicest thing to have ever touched the floor.

When he looks back up, his girlfriend has stripped off her hoodie, and though he’s seen her without a shirt before, he can’t help but choke at the sight. She grabs a shirt he had discarded earlier in the morning that’s laying on the back of the couch (so what if he struggled to figure out which shirt to wear to her set) and pulls it over her head, encompassing her slightly smaller frame in the fabric.

Along with all the other things Percy will never get used to, it’s the sight of Annabeth in his clothing. He tries to remember how air works.

"Percyyy," she whines after noticing him just standing there. She waves him over to the couch where she’s plopped down and he hastens to follow suit.

She leans into his chest as he wraps an arm around her and he can feel her nose against his neck where she’s buried her head in. 

"Mmm, I could get used to this after a long day of filming," she says, against his shoulder and god so could he. 

"Me too."

They sit in silence as Percy flicks through the TV. 

"Did you mean it?" 

He stops on a rerun of Jeopardy and looks down to meet blonde waves resting on his shoulder. "Mean what?"

Annabeth lifts her head to meet his eyes. "What you said, on set."

"Of course I did."

"How are you even real," she mutters, more to herself but he hears it.

He grins, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. "Like that."

She shakes her head at him, bringing their intertwined hands up to her face. Leaning her cheek against it, she sighs softly.  "You could fight a war and win it too."

Laughing, he pulls her closer. "Only if I have you by my side."

And maybe there’s a world out there where they did. Either way, all that really matters, he thinks, is that she’s here with him.

Whether it’s fighting a war or watching Jeopardy, this is how it should be. Percy and Annabeth, side by side. 

A/N: Thank you for sending in this prompt! I didn’t write the awards show because I was just taken with the whole visiting set idea but I hope you like it! It was so much fun to continue writing this AU! Thanks again! 

[slasherkisss]

Thunderstorm - Jason/Reader

[a commission for @floral-and-fine​ that they gave me permission to post! thank you for your support <3 if anyone is interested in a commission please dm me!]

THUNDERSTORM - JASON VOORHEES

You couldn’t feel anything anymore. There was only wind.

Only rain.

Only thunder.

Those were the only sort of feelings you could register in the periphery of your mind as the rest of your body focused solely on pushing forward. On fighting its way through the intense breeze that had blustered its way up into a gale of dangerous proportions, each smack of sideways ran biting into your skin like a small animal. As though the sky was raining teeth over Crystal Lake rather than its hydrating water. Or, perhaps, like small eels that bit into your flesh as they hit you from above, each bite more intense than the last despite the slow numbing of your skin to the assault as you wrapped your thin coat tightly around your body. The curse that left your lips was swallowed up by another snarl of thunder above you, followed by a sparkling crash of lightning that lit up the bare trees to look like ominous hands reaching down.

Dammit, you thought, this was all the damn weather’s fault! Though, in reality, you knew it was definitely your own fault.

Jason had warned you earlier that there would be rain, his fantic gestures to the oncoming dark clouds lumbering over the horizon going ignored as you shrugged him off with your usual smile and kiss to his masked face. You assured him that your trip to town would only last a few hours, enough time for you to come home before the rain assaulted the forest around the both of you. He had protested longer than usual, of course, his worry for your safety leading him into nearly scooping you up into his arms and locking you up in his hidden shack and underground tunnels beneath the abandoned Camp. It was only when you whined that you wouldn’t have any food, and that if it DID turn into a storm you would have little to stock up on, that he reluctantly agreed to allow you to leave his side.

He had held your hand tight to his, larger grip covering your skin as he momentarily refused to let you go. Though his expression was unreadable against the mask he wore, you could tell by his body language and by the tilt of his head that he was worried. That he was wearing a tight frown against waterlogged lips and knit brows along his uneven eyes as he watched you exit the home with a wave and a blow of a small kiss to his face that left him sitting in his home, twiddling his thumbs with worry that you might be okay.

You really wished that you had listened to him.

Another blast of thunder pulled you from your momentary reverie, your breath catching and burning as the cold are bit into it with deadly force. It hurt to breathe in this weather, you realized with a wince as your lungs froze over from the inside. As you walked you felt your leg catch something, some sort of branch or fallen log, and you fell forward. Your hands splayed out, catching yourself by your elbows in the muddy forest floor and you heard your ankle twist and crack with a sickening snap of bone, making you cry out just as a strike of lightning fell from the sky. You felt your heart beat faster as tears welled in your eyes, a hopeless sense of dirt and grime sticking to your soul as much as the real substance stuck to your body as you curled in on yourself on the forest floor, shutting your eyes tight and adjusting to lean on the same log you had fallen over. The pain in your ankle throbbed, reminding you of your mistake. One of many.

Somewhere, in the distance, you heard the crash of a tree as it fell over, struck by lightning and run ragged by the wind. Would that be your fate too, you wondered? Besides freezing to death, would your next likely source of destruction be the very forest you loved walking through? A tree could come down and crash into you and you knew it, breaking so much more than the bone in your ankle as you tried to make yourself smaller against the raging storm. You shut your eyes, trying to block all the wind out. All the rain out. Another sob left your lips and you didn’t try to muffle it this time, because even to your own ears the sound was nothing against the roaring wind.

As you grew tired and your bones grew numb, the slight sense of something hovering around you roused you from your momentary fade into the void. Daring to pull your eyes open, you could only squint beyond the dangerous drops of rain to try and identify just what was before you now. Was it an animal, trying to catch an easy meal? Perhaps that would be an easier way to go. The circle of life and all of that…

You were even more surprised when it picked you up, heaving you into strong arms and all but crushing you into a chest that rose and fell with worried, heavy breathing. The body itself was not warm. It provided little safety from the chills that caused you to shake like a leaf in the being’s arms, but the grip was familiar and so was the mask clad face that gazed down at you with worry in its gaze. You inhaled sharply, hand shakily reaching up as you bit your lip and dared try and smile through the ache of your bones and the chill in your spine:

“J… ason?”

Your question wasn’t answered. Instead Jason turned around and began walking through the woods, his body shielding you from the rain as it fell and bit against his already undead skin. You relished in the fact that your form was no longer being buffeted by the storm. That you could no longer feel the pain on your skin as badly as in your body or your lungs. Your eyes began to droop again, but, each time they did Jason paused to reach up and squeeze your cheeks a little too tight for comfort, making you face him and stare into his mask for a long moment before he continued to walk. It happened more than once. More than twice. You got the message after a few more times and tried to force yourself to obey the silent command he offered:

Stay awake.

So you did, willing your heavy body to keep itself up. To focus on the world around you, mainly the strength of the man holding you. The way his grip squeezed you against his body and his breath came in ragged gasps, as though his lungs struggled to work through the worry he had for you. You felt slightly bad, you realized, having to need him to carry you. To leave his home to find you in the pouring rain. The frown that touched your lips made you aware of how chapped they really were as you continued through the forest, unaware of the direction either of you were turning or moving until a familiar, raggedy shack came into your view.

Jason’s home. He had brought you home.

You registered the sound of rain hitting the tin roof above you and the dryness of the air around the room placing a smooth, relaxing feeling into your lungs. One of warmth as opposed to the previous burns of cold air. The echo of a fire crackling somewhere in the distance warmed your ears and your body as the sudden heat of the world around you made you break out into a cold sweat, your form shivering in pain as you winced through your shut eyes.

You felt Jason set you down, the softness of blankets mixing with the hardness of the floor beneath you. You finally allowed your gaze to open up, coming face to face with the Crystal Lake killer as he looked you over with firm hands and an expression of worry painted in what you could see of those beautiful eyes of his. When he saw your gaze open, you were greeted with a startled look and a hand flying to your face, touching your cheek and turning your head to either side, to make sure that all of you was okay under his grip as he examined you.

You could only smile against his hand, leaning into it despite it being as cold as your body was. You sighed needily into it.

“Jason… you came for me…”

Your voice was so weak. So quiet. Jason’s heart burned at the sound of it. The sound of you flickering out so fast, like a flame dying in the wind. Standing up without a second thought, Jason tore himself away from you in order to look around his home, pulling out things he had stored for your visits to him from small holes scattered across the makeshift home, sending certain tools and occasional bones clattering to the floor as he did so. The sound wasn’t impressive underneath the rain, but it was enough to startle you.

Jason wrapped what felt like at least four blankets around your form in an instant, the heaviness of each one indicating their woolen material as they weighed you down more and more until you were hunched beneath their near unbearable grip. Whimpering, you tried to adjust your legs, and all but screamed when your ankle bent uncomfortably in the process. Jason was down next to your legs in an instant, pulling them from the blanket cocoon he had created for you and examining the wound with careful eyes and even more careful hands.

Large fingertips brushed the slowly bruising and burning skin of your ankle, making you whimper and squirm as you felt him touch at the point where the bone had bent, making him pause as he watched your face.  You could see it in his gaze: Sadness and hurt. Fear and betrayal. You knew what he was thinking, the strange connection had with him whispering those words in the wind of your mind despite him never opening his mouth:

Why didn’t you listen to me? Now you’re hurt, too… You almost died… Why didn’t you listen?

You brought him forward and kissed his forehead, whimpering as you did so from the awkward position it put him in. When you pulled away, you smiled weakly at him.

“Thank-you, Jason,” You whispered, “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you… I should have… You saved me still, though, and I’m alive now because of you. I promise I’ll never leave your side again, alright? I’ll stay here with you forever now… Just us.”

This seemed to satisfy Jason as his shoulders relaxed and his eyes grew soft on you, gazing into you like you were the only two people in the world. In this bubble, safe beyond the prying eyes of society within the lake, perhaps you were. Reaching out to you, he touched your face and brought it close to his, pressing your mouth where his lips would be and sighing from his hockey mask with a gentle murmur of words you couldn’t quiet identify beneath his mumbling softness.

You couldn’t stop the smile that spread on your lips as you ‘kissed’ him back, the gentleness with which he was holding you already warming your chilled body up as the two of you sat together, pressing your bodies into one another. He was careful to avoid your hurt ankle as he let your legs wrap about his waist, his form leaning onto yours and covering you up in him.

He was over you. He was on top of you.

He consumed you.

And you were fine with that. His weight was welcome on your body as you relaxed into him. His face pulled from your lips to nuzzle into your neck, hugging you as he sighed with satisfaction at the position. Like this he could keep you close to him. Like this he could protect you from the rain and the wind and the outside.

Like this, you were his.

[rayewriting]

You Deserve More (More Than What I Have)

Fandom: Batman

Note: I know I'm a day late! Please forgive me, I got home at six, sat down at seven and been working this out till 1AM. Qalbi means “my heart” and Ekhwah means "older brother" in Arabic and Chikno means "son" in Romany (at least that’s what I found online!) I loved the idea of Damian taking care of Mar’i and him giving her a cutesy nickname and Damian and Dick openly acknowledging their relationship is different than just a brotherly bond so… I edited this chapter to make Mar'i call Damian "Ekhwah" instead of "Uncle D" to get that across. If I am wrong about the translations- PLEASE LET ME KNOW!!! I am not meaning to offend anyone, just trying to tie in Damian's and Dick heritage!

This is also an unexpected continuation of my Nightwing and Flamebird fic "Being Enough"! (find it under my DickandDamiweek2019 tag, its Day 1!)

Scars, so many scars on the little body that Damian possess.

“They are from training, Grayson,” his Robin says. But Dick knows better.

The scars come from abuse, the torture, he faced in his time with his mother. And Dick- Dick is appalled that, within ten years, Damian acquired so many. So many that Dick hasn’t heard all the stories and some of them Damian doesn’t remember getting- because he was to young to even try to remember. And the worst part is that Damian refuses to see them anything more than training mistakes, that they were not his fault that others hurt him. But Dick tells Damian every night, every time he sees one that Damian is not the one at fault, that Damian is an amazing, beautiful child that deserves so much more than the world has to offer.

His face has two, both difficult to see, but Dick does so immediately. One jagged cut on the left side reaching from his ear to his jaw.

 “The one on the left was from one of my instructors that got too close and tried to kill me,” Damian explained, in the middle of a night where Dick was still Batman and Damian his Robin, shaking in Dick’s arms after a nightmare, “I was sad because he was one of the few people nice to me. He said I reminded him of his child. Later that year, I discovered Mother forced him to do it for my training. I killed him, I did not know his real name, but he was called Khalil… for he was the friendliest in the League.”

The other is straight down his right eye, cutting through his eyebrow-

 “Grandfather did it. To train me to have me get acquainted to feeling pain,” Damian continued into Dick’s chest.

 “What they did is not your fault,” Dick said into Damian’s hair.

His left arm held a few, two parallel puncture holes near his wrist-

 Damian whispered, in the quiet after a rough night of patrol- neither of them ready to be alone, “I was bitten by a poisonous snake and the antidote was on the other side of a mountain. It was for training.”

 Dick wraps his arms around Robin, enclosing his partner in his cape, “That should not have been forced on you.”

In the bend of his right elbow, uncountable needle marks-

 “I was regularly injected with varies poisons and drugs, Mother said to grow immunity to them. Too many to count. It was part of my training,” Damian-in a t-shirt and shorts- spoke at the Batcomputer, when he noticed Stephanie looking at his arm for a good minute and a half. He kicked his legs out, and looks just like a regular twelve-year-old, except the words coming out of his mouth.

 Dick placed his hand on Damian’s shoulder and retorted, “It should not have been.”

Connecting Damian’s shoulder and elbow on the back of his right arm is a slice that Damian refuses to talk about, no matter how much Dick tries to whittle it out of him. (Damian’s cousin gave it to him, when he was sleeping in his quarters. Damian remembers his resulting actions every time he turns around to get ready for his day.)

His left leg only has one scar, a large burn covering the back of his thigh-

 As Damian changed into his suit for patrol with Dick and Bruce, saw their glances towards his legs and went on, “It was part of my torture training,” glanced at Bruce then continued, “Mother said that I was to be subjected to it for multiple weeks.”

 Dick left his Nightwing suit to pool around his waist, then pulled the fourteen-year-old into his arms, “She should not have done that. You are amazing just the way you are, Dames.”

His right leg has a matching burn and line down his shin-

 “I broke my leg, the medical staff had to do surgery to repair it,” Damian said to Jason. Damian, Dick, and Jason had ducked into a safehouse to wait out a thunderstorm that broke out in the middle of patrol. They had been in the middle of a change when Jason asked about it.

 “How did you break your leg?” Dick inquired.

 The fifteen-year-old paused for a few minutes- face contorted as if he was trying to remember- then, “I was being tortured by an enemy of the League. She broke my leg, so I broke her spine, then ran to the sea and swam twenty miles to a League ship I knew would pass at the time. They sent me to one of their medical facilities and I finished the mission in a week.” As he spoke the three of them rested on the couch, Dick stretching across the middle and left cushions, Damian sitting on the left on, and Jason walking into the kitchen for a bottle of water.

 “They did not deserve your loyalty,” Dick said softly, foot poked at Damian’s thigh.

His neck had one—

 Damian threw Dick’s door open, ran into Dick’s arms, and pointed to his neck, “It killed me… I think? Grandfather often put Mother in the Pit if she died during training. I don’t think Mother could stop him if I died. I-I can’t remember it very well… But when I woke up, Mother said I failed my training and had to do it over again. I didn’t remember till I had a nightmare last night.” Damian expounds, as if he had to get if off his chest, then broke down on Dick’s chest.

 “You deserved better than that. You deserve more than I have,” Dick said to the sixteen-year-old. Dick threw up that night and every time the light caught Damian’s neck just right, he- he grew green.

His hands had too many to count, burns, cuts and scrapes-

 “The only one I remember is the one Mother gave to me,” Damian quietly lets out, tracing his index finger over the small cut on the back of his hand. Dick, Kor’i, and Damian was in the middle of a movie at Dick’s apartment. Kor’i had visited during Damian’s visit- Dick hoped his girlfriend and Damian would get along- which they did, much to Dick’s surprise the first time, so they started monthly movie nights.

 Dick removed his arm from around Kor’i’s shoulders, clasped the seventeen-year-old’s hands in his and responded, “I’m sorry she hurt you. But I’m proud you don’t let it rule over you,” then placed kisses on all the scars he could find on the fingers and palms, when Dick was done, he wiped the tears that fall from the younger man’s eyes and the female alien wrapped her arms around Damian’s shoulders.

His chest is blanketed with multiple cuts and burns-

 Damian points to a small cut on his right pectoral muscle after Cass brushed her hand across his chest in questioning manner as Dick finished up stitching a knife wound on her forearm, “This is from a training with one of Mother’s guards,” long slice across from his right shoulder to left hip, “Grandfather wanted to know how many people I could take at once, I reached twelve before I passed out,” medium burn across the abdomen, “I was defending Mother from an inflamed log falling on her,” puncture marks on his left shoulder, “I was blindfolded and shot with an arrow, it was supposed to help with my spatial awareness,” then finally the long cut in the middle of his chest, “You remember this one, but the Heretic.”

 Cass nodded and grasped his hand, gave it a quick squeeze before she hopped of the gurney in the Batcave. Dick turns towards his twenty-year-old brother and pulled him into his arms, “You are so amazing, Dami, and these marks are just reminders. And I am so proud.”

Damian’s back is covered with bumps, cuts, burns-

 Dick rubbed Damian’s back as the twenty-three-year-old retched into the toilet, he could see the scars on Damian’s back and felt them under his palm. When Damian finished, Dick brought a glass of water up to his lips, Damian took a small sip, then spit it into the toilet, then flushed it. “Which one do you want to know about?”

 “Any of them, all of them.”

 “There are too many whip lashes for me to remember; everytime I passed out Grandfather would tie me to a post and ‘whip the exhaustion out of me’, there is the spinal replacement cut and the Heretic sword exit wound you remember, but I think…” Damian grabbed Dick’s hand moved it to the middle of his back then to the side just a bit, “I got stabbed there by a rogue assassin, had to replace my kidney,” Dick’s hand was guided to the opposite side but up some, “That was… one of Grandfather’s men, I think, I was walking to my next lesson and one of them threw a throwing star at me,” a burn mark on Damian’s right shoulder, “One of my instructors began to burn my clothes, and if I flinched or made a noise, she cut me with her knife.”

 Damian dropped Dick’s hand and threw his head back into the toilet to wretch again, and Dick resumed his massage, “You, Damian, are so amazing. Do not let anyone tell you otherwise. You make me so happy for you to be a part of my family.”

 When the bathroom door opened, Dick’s head spun till he saw his daughter, “Mar’i what are you doing up, sweetie?” he asked.

 Mar’i looked at Damian as he rested his cheek against his arm that was on the toilet seat, “I had to potty, and I was wondering what was going on,” she said, “Is Ekhwah okay?”

 Damian smiled at the child, “I will be fine, Qalbi, and I am sorry you can not use your bathroom right now.”

 Dick stood up and washed his hands in the sink as Damian was talking, then turned to his daughter, “Why don’t you use Mommy and my bathroom? Come on.” Mar’i nodded and Dick grasped her hand, walked her to the master bedroom.

 When he opened the bedroom door, he saw Kor’i was blinking her eyes open and looked around, “Dick? What is happening?”

 Dick offered a small smile and opened his mouth to answer but Mar’i spoke first, “Ekhwah is sick and I had to potty. But, Daddy, I have a question,” then with all the seriousness a five-year-old can possess, she asked, “Why does Ekhwah have so many marks?”

 Couple of weeks later, Damian finds himself babysitting Mar’i, Kor’i and Dick trusting him to protect and care for their five-year-old daughter while they have a “date night”, she asks him, “Ekhwah, when did you get your scars?” tracing the marks of his arms up and down.

Damian just looks at the small child in his lap- as she was tired playing with her toys and wanted her Uncle D to talk to her, “Well, Qalbi, I got some of them when I was your age. Others I got when I was older.”

“Did your mommy and daddy not kiss them better? ‘Cause my mommy and daddy always kiss my boo-boos till I feel better.”

“No, my mother did not care for kisses and the like, and when I met my father, I was too old for kisses,” Damian explains, much to Mar’i’s surprise.

“Too old for kisses? How old is too old for kisses? I love kisses!” Mar’i exclaims, arms wrapping around Damian’s shoulders, finding comfort in his arms- as if thinking one day she would be refused kisses.

Damian’s heart seizes in his chest, the child’s innocence making him love her even more and he squeezes her to his chest, “I do not think you will ever grow too old for kisses, Qalbi. Your parents will give you kisses and hugs for as long as they can, as long as you let them.”

“Good, I love hugs and kisses. But, Ekhwah, where did your scars come from? They have to have hurt.” Mar’i asks innocently, green eyes wide and tan face scrunching in a pout.

The question causes Damian to stop, collecting his thoughts, then gently saying, “My scars come from my time in the League of Assassins. I was hurt a lot, everyday. My mother said that it was training; but, it was not. It was abuse; do you know what that means?” Damian looks at Mar’i, the small one shaking her head, “Abuse comes in many forms, but mine was mental and physical abuse. My mother- she was not a good person, when I was small, she hit me many times a day, forced me to do things that I did not want to do, and did not let me have my own opinions or thoughts. It is a very serious issue, and not to be treated lightly.”

Damian pauses and gives Mar’i a serious look and tells her, “Mar’i, if anyone—anyone—hurts you on purpose, it is not training or playing. Your mother and father will not hurt you like mine did, but know that if you get hurt by anyone or anything, I will help you. Promise me that if you feel hurt, scared, or angry, you talk to your parents- or me if you want- because I can grantee that we will always care for you.”

Mar’i nods, face serious and voice having a determined tilt, “I promise, Ekhwah, if I feel scared, hurt, or angry, I will tell Mommy, Daddy, or you.”

Damian hears a sniffle from the doorway and swivels his head to see Dick and Kor’i, both having watery eyes, walking into the room. Mar’i gets off Damian’s lap and runs over to her parents giving them hugs, “Mommy! Daddy!” Then she tugs on Dick’s pants, causing him to kneel in front of her, “Ekhwah said that his mommy didn’t like kisses and when he met Grandpa Bruce, he was too old for kisses! But he also said my parents aren’t like his; so, I won’t ever be too old for kisses.”

Dick looks at Damian with inquisitive eyes, which causes Damian roll his eyes and nod. Kor’i looks in between her husband and the person she has grown too love as a son, then tells Mar’i “Mar’i, you need to pick up your toys. It’s almost bedtime.”

Damian and Dick step out of the room and Dick wraps Damian into a hug, “I’m so proud of you, Chikno.”

“Why?”

Dick takes a step back and explains, “You openly acknowledged that your childhood was not training. That is a huge step and you took it. I’m just so happy you can see it now.”

Damian tilts his head to the side then shrugs his shoulders, “I guess.”

Suddenly Mar’i runs into the hall and flies, literally, into Damian’s arms, “Ekhwah! Can you tell me a bedtime story? I want to hear one about Nightwing and Flamebird!”

“Of course, but perhaps your father should join us, he is half of those stories.”

Dick watched as his two kids walk ahead of him, let’s a smile slide across his face, and follows them into Mar’i’s room.

[juggieheadcoopers-blog]

Juggieheadcoopers' Fanfiction Masterlist

Here’s a collection of all the pieces I’ve written so far. I’ll add new ones as I go! Enjoy! My AO3 account can be found here. 

**ONE-SHOTS**

Tell Me How You Feel - Betty and Jughead discuss their feelings for one another

Be There For Me - Jughead is there for Betty when she is feeling sad about Polly 

Challenge Accepted - Betty and Jughead on their first date 

Lie With Me - Betty is there for Jughead after the discussion with his dad in 1x07

Memories of Us - Jughead gives Betty the journal he has kept since childhood documenting their memories together  

Romeo and Juliet - Betty and the gang prepare to put on their school’s production of Romeo and Juliet

Hands - Jughead can’t keep his hands off Betty whenever he’s sitting next to her and Betty can’t stop smiling or blushing every time he does. 

Surprise Visit - Jughead’s mother and sister surprise him and the gang at Pop’s

A Song For Betty - Jughead writes Betty a song using Archie’s guitar

Bandages - Betty and Veronica get into a car accident and Jughead is there to help fix her up 

Carry Me Home - Betty gets injured on a hike and Jughead carries her home

Permission Granted - Jughead asks Alice for Betty’s hand in marriage

A Little Friendly Competition - Betty and Jughead go bowling with friends

What’s Underneath the Clothes - Betty and Veronica are shocked by Jughead’s surprisingly fit body

Blackout - A thunderstorm knocks out the power around town, leaving Betty and Jughead alone in a dark house, where anything could happen

Apocalypse - AU where Betty and Jughead fight to survive a zombie apocalypse together

Whispers - Jughead is there to support Betty when she is getting bullied after the fallout of her father’s arrest for Jason’s murder

Dress To Impress - Jughead is mesmerized by Betty’s 50′s style dress during Homecoming week 

A Part of You, A Part of Me - Betty and Jughead have a pregnancy scare, but before Betty can tell him that she’s not actually pregnant, Jughead explains to her how much he wants to have to baby

Same Dark Places - Betty is feeling overwhelmed by the darkness she feels, and Jughead is there to show her that there’s always a way to see the light

The Safety Dance - Betty and Jughead share a slow dance at Homecoming

Lend Me Your Jacket - It’s the morning after the Homecoming dance and Jughead is still upset with Betty after everything that happened, but even through his anger and their fighting, he still remains to be a gentleman

Runaways - Jughead decides to get on the bus to Florida after all, and Betty decides to join him

You Are Not Alone - Betty comforts Jughead after his mom says he can’t move to Toledo with her

Wash My Hair - Jughead finds himself in a sticky situation when a little girl drops an ice cream cone in his hair at a carnival, and Betty offers to wash it for him

We’re Not Invincible - Jughead comforts Betty after she find “Go to hell Serpent Slut” written on her locker

Game On, Clothes Off - Betty and Jughead play a game of strip twister

Damaged - Betty and Jughead’s relationship is strained as a result of his involvement in a Serpent gathering that put Polly in danger

**MULTI-CHAPTER STORIES** (all ongoing, unless stated otherwise)

Secrets Revealed (1,2,3,4,5) - Betty and Jughead’s friends and family find out about their relationship [COMPLETE]

The Marriage Pact (1) - Betty and Jughead made a pact when they were younger - if neither of them are married by thirty-five, they will just tie the knot with each other. Will Jughead sabotage every relationship Betty has in the meantime just so he can fulfill the pact? 

Missing (1) (2) - Betty gets kidnapped and her friends band together to search for her [COMPLETE]

The Girl From the Journal (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) - Jughead Jones has been writing about a girl he has never met before, but when he leaves his journal at his favorite coffee shop one day, an unsuspecting young woman finds it without knowing that the stranger who wrote it was actually writing about her

A Car With a Story (1) - Betty and her father have decided to fix up cars together again in order to fix Betty’s broken heart after Jughead moved to Toledo. As she comes across these old cars, she imagines what her life with Jughead could have been like if they were around with these cars were in their prime. Will this help her come to terms with why Jughead left? Or will it make her miss him even more?

Riding Into Danger (1) - Jughead is there for Betty when she gets herself into trouble searching for her newfound brother

Friends With Benefits (1) (2) (3) (4) [COMPLETE] - AU: Jughead never went to Riverdale High and never became friends with Betty and the gang the way they were supposed to. Archie, Jughead, and Betty were close in middle school, but once they parted ways and Jughead followed in his father’s footsteps of becoming a Serpent, their relationship was never the same.

Interstate Love Song (AU) : Read on Ao3!