#duke thomas keep this quiet for his brother

[izadi234]

Forget me not

-Warning: Contain yandere themes, neglected! gn!reader, mention of low self-esteem, the writer's first language isn't English.

Yan! Batfamily x gn! reader

Chapters

Chapter 1

Chapter 2 (You're here)

Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

Chapter 2

The moment you retreated to your room Alfred's gaze hardened as he looked at the kitchen door through which you had left.

With a sigh he returned to making breakfast, however, something couldn't stop going around in his head.

Why?

Why do you have to leave?

Why do you have to leave ME?

He doesn't blame you. Your "family" has done nothing but ignore you and push you aside on more than one occasion since you arrived at Wayne Manor. And if it weren't for him, Bruce wouldn't have remembered to pay for your needs and education.

No. He could never blame you for your decision, but he can blame Bruce and your brothers. He had never felt such anger for them, not even when Martha and Thomas died at the hands of that cruel man. But that never had a solution, but this did. His family has a solution and he was going to fix it for you and for you. To always have his ray of sunshine at his side.

He wasn't going to lose you without having fought a war.

But for now, he had to stay calm. He sighed once more and finally relaxed as he served breakfast on the plates. He has to talk to Duje after you told him about your decision.

He had to think with a cool head. As he had told Bruce many years ago: "Fear doesn't make you think clearly" and not only was he scared of his little ones going out into the world alone, he also had anger built up. And he was going to use those two feelings to his advantage.

It was not for nothing that he was a very feared soldier during the war.

You were in your room as usual texting with a friend when Duke knocked on your bedroom door before coming in.

"Hey (name)!" said Duke happily who sat on your bed while you sat at your desk

"Oh hey Duke!" you greeted him with a smile anyway "How was school today?"

"A little boring, but at least it's Friday now" he chuckled

"And you? How was your day?"

It's now or never.

You sighed and got up from your spot to sit next to him on your bed.

"I have something to tell you Duke…" you put a hand on his shoulder

"And what is it?" He asked worriedly seeing your seriousness "Don't tell me it's something bad"

"No, it's nothing bad. At least I don't consider it bad" you started to say "But, Duke, I've decided to move out of the mansion"

"…What?…" he said in a quiet tone of voice surprised by your words

No, it can't be…

"I know it's sudden, but I can't stand this place" you sighed "I want- No, I need to start over without being in the shadow of others"

You turned to look at him and caressed his cheek.

"But this doesn't mean we won't see each other again. We'll be able to talk and keep in touch" you offered him a smile

Without saying anything, Duke hugged you and nestled his head in the crook of your neck. You put a hand on his neck and caressed him.

"Just… Don't forget about me…" he said after a few minutes of silence.

He pulled away from you and wiped away some tears that threatened to fall from his eyes.

"I could never do that, brother," you wiped one of his eyes with your thumb.

After that emotional conversation, you and Duke spent the afternoon in your room talking and watching movies on your laptop. However, Duke's mind was still on that conversation.

There was no chance that you would leave him. He had to find a way to prevent you from leaving his side.

The week you moved went by so fast that when you realized it, you were already taking the last box with your belongings out of the mansion.

You looked back at that mansion one last time and felt like that little kid again who arrived with fear and excitement to what he would call home for years. But soon your face darkened as you remembered the suffering you had experienced there. Without thinking twice, you turned around and got on your motorcycle, but not before securing your last box. You started the bike and left Wayne Manor.

You hadn't said goodbye to Alfred nor Duke but you left a letter on both of their beds wishing each of them the best, thanking them for everything and giving them the phone number of your second cell phone in case they needed something or just wanted to check on you. However, you didn't leave anything else, not even an address. You wanted to completely erase the Waynes from your life, you wanted to erase the fact that you were a Wayne too. You wanted to forget them so much that you turned off the cameras in the mansion for a period of time so you could take out your things in peace, so that no one would see the license plates of your motorcycle that you had been keeping at a friend's house and whose motorcycle was registered.

If nothing else, you had developed the same paranoia as Bruce and decided to take every measure to avoid being located. You even thought about going to live in Metropolis or Star City but the rent and sale of apartments there were much more expensive than in Gotham. Maybe when you earn more money once you finish college.

But for now focus on your present.

Before it is taken away from you.

When you got to your apartment you let out a sigh that you didn't know you were holding. You looked around, there were some pieces of furniture that came with the apartment like a leather armchair that was a little worn but looked pretty new, a wooden bookcase, several coffee tables, some pots and kitchen stuff. The only thing you had to buy was your bed but your best friend did you the favor of giving you a headboard for your bed as a gift of independence and you only bought a mattress. It wasn't as comfortable as the one you had in the mansion but at least you had things you could consider yours. NOT thanks to Wayne, but thanks to your efforts.

You put the box on the kitchen counter and before going to your room you saw several boxes.

Damn... You hadn't thought about how lazy you were going to be when you had to unpack.

That same day you left, Alfred had returned from going grocery shopping. At that time of the morning you and he used to spend the morning together, while you were in your online classes, he did the housework along with the food. Between the breaks you had between classes you used to go see what he was doing in the kitchen and you were his personal taster.

Now that you were on vacation, you spent more time with him because Bruce, Tim and sometimes Damian went to Wayne Enterprises, Dick and Jason weren't usually at the mansion and Duke, Cass and Stephanie were training in the Batcave or with their friends. For that same reason Alfred was alarmed when he called your name and you didn't answer.

He quickly went up to your room only to find it completely empty. His heart raced and he started to sweat lightly.

You couldn't have left so quickly, right?

He went down again and checked all the rooms in the big mansion and found nothing. Only his own room was missing. As he entered he could see an envelope of your favorite color on his pillow. He approached and read it.

In the letter you apologized for not saying goodbye to him in person but if you did you were more than sure that you wouldn't be able to leave. You also left him a private cell phone number where he could call you and you wished him all the best.

It had been a long time since Alfred felt the need to cry but without realizing it he had already shed a few tears. He couldn't believe that his little one was already gone.

After having shed a few tears, he quickly wiped his eyes and composed himself. No, he couldn't cry because you were going to return. He was sure of that.

However, he would let you enjoy your independence a little before implementing his plan for you to return home to your family. With him.

But first he'll have to talk with Duke.

Helloooo! I hope you liked the second chapter! If you did leave a heart and i'll see you in the next one. I kind of think this chapter is kind of bland but the story is just begining. This are the first impressions of you leaving the Manor but soon enough the rest of the family will appear.

Thanks you for reading!

-Izadi <3

TAG LIST

@eyeless-kun

[megaaceofspades]

duke thomas and tim drake being close includes:

- some of the craziest your mama jokes gotham has ever heard

- their brothers genuinely losing their minds (duke keeps taking away their eyesight for seconds at a time so tim can shift everything around and gaslight them into thinking nothing happened)

- gotham is so quiet when they patrol together… too quiet (tim is an enabler to duke’s schemes. rogues are genuinely suffering)

- TIM BEING DUKES ROBIN. DUKE LOOKING UP TO TIM AND NOT SAYING ANYTHING. TIM KNOWING AND TAKING CARE OF DUKE.

- way too big house parties tbh they both have tons of friends and they keep having them all over at the same time so there will be 30 or so people over the manor every other week. it’s genuinely more chaotic and stressful than galas.

bonus angst insert here: tim was mad at dick for giving robin away to damian because tim meant to give robin away to duke. duke never even wanted to be robin (for reasons i can explain) he just wanted his brother, but tims ready to go on his gap year in hell, leaving duke behind in gotham, kind of like how tims parents used to leave tim.

[queer-ragnelle]

So who among the Arthurian characters is into cottagecore? Morgan has to be right?

hi!

you know what i'm gonna have to disagree. i don't think morgan's affiliation to magic and nickname "le fay" are enough, especially bc she prides herself on a lofty status that elevates her above the humble rural living that cottagecore romanticizes. i mean here she is in the vulgate proclaiming herself a king's daughter (isn't she the daughter of duke gorlois?) while she prepares to kill her husband and get away with it.

queen shit. here are some characters i think would be into cottagecore.

arthur: when thomas berger wrote him as loving his simple life in wales with his family and sleeping out with the dogs and genuinely relishing his modest upbringing with his foster brother? i felt that.

blanchefleur: she definitely named herself "white flower" after her own garden's award winning blossoms at the county fair. she bottles it for perfume too, if you're interested. perceval always keeps a little vial around his neck so he can smell it and think of her while on quest or when he gets lost on his way to take out the trash. thanks wifey.

brangaine and palamedes: whether or not she can actually achieve this lifestyle whilst in the service of isolde, she definitely dreams of fleeing to the countryside with palamedes. it also makes his commute shorter (cottage is on the edge of the enchanted woods in which the questing beast roams).

culhwch and olwen: after the nightmarish tasks they underwent just to get married they absolutely retired far away from court life where those shenanigans wouldn't reach their children.

dindrane: she's the quintessential nun, one who didn't learn necromancy. she enjoys all the typical stuff expected in a remote hermitage; gardening, baking, making wine, going on an adventure bilbo style complete with chaotic means and tragic ends, bird watching.

fisher king and elaine: since the queen passed away they just want more father and daughter bonding time out on the boat to fish. they catch dinner in their little pond and take it home to cook and go to sleep happy. they do the same thing again the next day without any obligations besides living. nothing bad happens.

green knight and wife: pretty sure they invented cottagecore or at least introduced the concept into the realm. they have their own line of cottagecore starter kits with little seeds to grow personalized mini gardens for a country oasis even in the discomfort of your monarch-sanctioned barracks. so what if the plants they sell are annuals and you have to buy a new one every year. aren't you committed to the aesthetic?

isolde and tristan: did they or did they not smash in that grotto like their lives depended on it? i rest my case.

merlin: have you read mary stewart's merlin trilogy? my guy wanted the quiet life so bad it made him look stupid. he died as he lived, in the middle of fucking nowhere. say what we will he committed to the bit to the very end.

tor: he is literally a cowboy farmer kid turned knight. actually forget the whole list he's the only one.

thanks for the ask!

[hazel-of-sodor]

Day 31- For What We Fall

Traintober 2023

Other Stories

Day 31-Lights Out

For What We Fall

A/N: This Story is the follow up to Day 9-The Fallen Light

The lorry pulled to a stop, eyeing the valley below dubiously. From atop its trailer, Caomhnóir looked grim as his crew climbed out of the lorry’s cab,

"Thank you for coming, Caomhnóir," Skarloey said. I know it was not an easy trip to make."

The tank engine gave a tense smile, "No thanks are needed, Skarloey. The Lady looks after all engines. Even those that were stopped from passing on."

"It's true then." Duke said, "Proteus is being held here by the spirit."

Thomas frowned, "No, not directly. Only the Lady can prevent another engine's soul from passing on. Whatever is happening, Proteus has bound himself, whether he realizes that or not."

"Can you unbind him?" Jennings asked.

"I do not know. He must wish to be unbound first. I have been blessed by the Lady to protect both those passed on and any they would seek to harm, but that does not give me the ability or the right to control them.”

A cool wind blew through the valley, winding its way through the assembled engine's wheels.

"We're being watched," Rheneas guessed.

"Indeed." Thomas activated his lamp, the golden light shining into the gap where the bridge once stood.

The wind pulled back with a hiss.

"We are not here to harm you."  Caomhnóir called softly, "only to keep you from harming others."

Skarloey saw Duke and Jennings shift discontentedly, but they did not disagree with the shining guardian.

The wind hissed, curling around the rocks and trees of the valley, cutting through the waves of the water far below.

'Liar.'

Before the tank engine could reply, a soft whistle echoed up the valley, sending a shiver down the engines' frames.

"Proteus," Duke whispered. Jennings looked stricken.

The wind shifted, blowing towards the sound.

"You don't have to believe me." Caomhnóir said into the quiet air, "But trust him."

The wind stilled from a moment before it blew towards the point the whistle had come from.

The whistle came again, softer this time, its tone encouraging.

The wind slowly shifted and Skarloey knew it was considering Caomhnóir."

Finally, it made a sound like a sigh, and the wind moved down towards the cliff.

The fallen leaves around them began to swirl together, attempting to form a small shape.

The whistle came again, and where the old iron bridge once stood, a golden light appeared, as if an engine's lamp stood in the air before them. Fireflies flew from the woods behind them, to form behind the light, taking the shape of an engine very similar in shape to Skarloey, with a large lamp atop its smokebox. A tear trailed down Jennings's face as she beheld her brother's form.

Proteus's light shone on the leaves, strengthening the wind until the leaves swirled together into the spirit's form.

Caomhnóir ignored the stricken gasps of the narrow gauge engine as he looked at the child before him.

"Hello little one." He said gently.

The spirit regarded him with open suspicion. He allowed his lamps to dimly shine on her, the spirit shuddering at the unexpected warmth.

"Is that better?" He asked. The spirit nodded slowly. 

Thomas smiled at her. "May I ask why you tried to push Sir Handel off the bridge the other night?"

The girl's head tilted in confusion.

"The engine that your guardian calls Falcon." 

'Lonely.' The wind whispered through the leaves.

"You tried to kill Sir Handel because you were lonely?" Duke asked in askance.

The spirit slowly pointed towards Proteus's light.

Proteus let off a mournful whistle.

"You wanted for him to have a friend." Thomas guessed. The child nodded.

"I don't believe Proteus wants you to kill another engine to keep him company."

Proteus whistled an agreement.

'Left,' the wind hissed accusingly.

Duke was the first to figure it out, "the railway closed." He said, the spirit turned to face him. "The Mid-Sodor fell. We were all sold off or left behind. None of us wanted to leave, this was our home, just as this was once yours."

"You know who this is?" Skarloey asked.

"I believe I do," Duke said gravely.

 "Before either of you arrived," he said glancing at Jennings and Proteus, "the locals would use the bridge to cross the valley. We told them it was dangerous, but they didn't listen. One night during a storm a family tried to cross...they never found the youngest child's body. The railway funded a bridge for foot traffic further up the valley after that."

"Do you know her name?" Caomhnóir asked. 

"Elin," Duke answered, the spirit perking up at the sound of her name.

"That doesn't explain why she killed Proteus." Jenning snapped. 

Proteus whistled sharply at his sister, who looked taken aback.

"She was alone." Caomhnóir translated for the human crews. "She didn't attack out of malice, but out of thirty years of desperation to not be alone anymore."

"Why did he stay?" Skarloey asked.

Proteus wheeshed mournfully. 

Thomas sighed heavily, "she didn't know how to move on, and he could no more have left her to suffer alone than he could renounce the Lady."

Jennings and Duke looked stricken.

The fallen engine whistled at Caomhnóir.

The tank engine shook his head mournfully, "I'm sorry, I don't know how  humans pass on, if she were an engi..."

Thomas suddenly cut off and the other engines stared as his eyes turned completely golden, his brass fittings and number one shining brightly in the dying light. The light faded and Thomas shook his head.

"Never mind,” He gasped, “the Lady has decided to intervene."

Samantha looked up toward her engine, "Is the Lady intervening for a Human even allowed?"

"A human? No. But a child?" Thomas grinned dangerously, "I don't believe there is anyone dumb enough to stop her."

He glanced over to Proteus, "Even with her aid, she will need a guide."

Proteus whistled resolutely.

The spirit looked back and forth between Caomhnóir and the fallen engine before she approached the tank engine, laying a spectral hand on his running board.

The two stared at each other for a long moment before Thomas spoke quietly.

"I promise. By the Lady, you will see your family again."

The spirit looked at him a moment longer before walking to where Proteus stood, climbing into the cab

"Proteus!" Jennings whistled, "Will I see you again?"

Proteus whistled firmly and Thomas's eyes glowed brighter, "The Lady has recognized his sacrifice." Thomas said, "As long as rails run through this valley, he will watch over it. We do not know how long his journey will take, but he will return."

"I miss you everyday brother," Jennings said, crying.

"And I as well," Duke said, tears of his own trailing down.

Proteus whistled softly back before the light turned towards Caomhnóir. The meaning was clear.

'Ready.'

Caomhnóir's lights powered up, the light burning brighter, swirling around the fallen engine and his passenger. It grew brighter and brighter, the engines and crews forced to look away from its intensity.

A triumphant whistle was heard and the light cut out, leaving only the engines and crews on the cliff.

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

[podfic of] the care and keeping of your baby talon

by kbirb pods (kbirb) Length: 00:48:47 Summary: Bruce has not had a moment of peace and quiet since he brought home the boy who tried to steal his tires, his sons came in with a talon trailing after them, and the neighbor kid invited himself to the manor. So he is more than a little annoyed when his eldest barges into his office “Yes?” he asks. “You need to come downstairs,” Damian says. “It’s the talon.”   In which everyone is more than a little cautious about the talon Duke brought home. Featuring chandelier swinging, Secret Garden reading, ill-advised sleuthing, and more. Podfic of the care and keeping of your baby talon by quandaries_and_contradictions. Words: 45, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 3 of [podfics of] birds and brothers and other assorted synonyms Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Characters: Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd, Duke Thomas, Damian Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Tim Drake Relationships: Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne, Duke Thomas & Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson & Duke Thomas, Dick Grayson & Alfred Pennyworth, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson Additional Tags: Dick Grayson is a Talon, Dick Grayson is a Baby, Young Dick Grayson, Reverse Robins, Batkids Age Reversal, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Dick Grayson-centric, Good Sibling Duke Thomas, Duke Thomas is a Batfamily Member, Damian Wayne is Bad at Feelings, Protective Damian Wayne, Good Sibling Damian Wayne, Good Sibling Jason Todd, Good Sibling Tim Drake, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Brotherly Bonding, Jason Todd is a nerd, Alfred Pennyworth is the Best, Good Grandparent Alfred Pennyworth, Podfic, Podfic Length: 45-60 Minutes, Audio Format: MP3, Audio Format: Streaming, Audio Format: Download via https://ift.tt/1sgNbxr

[number1spongebobfan]

T & F Hit Era Headcanons Part 1

well, it's been a while since I've done these huh?

Let's go!

Spencer

He is the Duke and Duchess of Boxford's private engine.

He is Gordon's cousin and rival. If Gordon's Squidward, then Spencer's Squilliam Fancyson.

He is sleek, shiny, well-groomed, and fast.

He's a pegasus with train wheels on his legs in his animal form.

He has a huge ego. He thinks he's sexy. He previously flirted with female engines on the mainland to no avail.

He says "I'm Spencer!" a lot.

He does magic tricks.

(Bill and Ben make fun of his hair cause it looks like a butt XD)

Rosie!

She is very girly. She loves the color pink, wears makeup, plays with dolls, and catches butterflies.

Like Percy, she has a sweet tooth. She likes cake and other sugary-sweets, but her favorite meal is strawberries with strawberry milk.

She used to wear pink clothes, but now wears red clothes with a red riding hood-esque cape.

She has a big crush on Thomas. Thomas didn't like her at first, eventually he fell in love and they became a couple <3

She speaks in an American accent.

Cat ears + cat tail in her animal form, like Thomas and Oliver.

Dennis

He's the Garfield of Sodor. This dude is lazy as fudge.

He likes to sleep on his hammock. He sleeps a lot.

He gets distracted easily.

He has Persian Cat ears and Persian Cat tail in his animal form.

This isn't a headcanon but why did I make him look like Mitt Romney. Seriously.

He's misunderstood by the other diesels. Mavis and Dart are sympathetic towards him, however.

Murdoch

He is big, strong, athletic, and powerful.

He maintains his side deflectors by using a good hairspray.

He does aerobics and other exercises to keep himself healthy.

He doesn't like loud noise. He wants peace and quiet.

One time Billy kept annoying him by calling him his big brother.

Him, Gordon and Henry are on pretty good terms.

He keeps it cool, in fashion and attitude.

He's a magnificent elk with train wheels on his legs in his animal form.

[pastedpast]

A woman in the Tudor History group I'm a member of recently recommended to me what sounded like a very readable book about Catherine Parr, the wife who survived Henry VIII, written by an academic called Dr Elizabeth Norton. I name-checked her only yesterday when posting about the Elfrida book, not realising they were the same author. Turns out she's written several books about queens (link here). I will keep an eye out for her work in charity shop finds and, as she is also a broadcaster, also on TV documentaries. Nice one!

Will have a more in-depth look at the link later and add info re. each book to the 'queens an' tings' blog in more detail.

And talking of Tudor women, I've finally been getting to grips with a few Tudor men (not as exciting as that might sound!). Essentially, working out who's who in the Seymour and Dudley families.

Seymour - the queen Jane Seymour had three brothers:

Edward, 1st Earl of Somerset, a biography about whom I mentioned in a recent post, who became Lord Protector of England during the minority of his nephew Edward VI, who was eventually executed after being accused of treason by John Dudley, Duke of Northumberland.

Thomas, 1st Baron Seymour of Sudeley, who was also executed for treason (and suspected of engaging in sexual relations with Elizabeth I when she was 14 and while she has married to Henry VIII's surviving wife, Catherine Parr).

Sir Henry Seymour - he was actually the second surviving son but I've placed him after Thomas on the list as he led a generally quiet life (although he was an MP at one point) living to a good age in relative obscurity.

The Seymour family lived at a large manor house called Wulfhall or Wolfhall, which was the inspiration for Hilary Mantel's prize-winning masterpiece, 'Wolf Hall'.

Dudley - the father-in-law, husband and brother-in-law of Lady Jane Grey.

John Dudley, 1st Duke of Northumberland. Married his son off to Lady Jane in the hopes of ruling by proxy via the young couple. Executed for high treason when Mary I took the throne. Had several children - so far I've only read about the following two.

Lord Guildford Dudley, husband of the young Jane - I need to read up more about him, I think he was only a year older than her and perhaps also a pawn in his father's plans?? He was too executed for high treason.

Robert Dudley, 1st Earl of Leicester - he was older than Guildford and a favourite courtier of Elizabeth I, also sentenced to death for treason, but freed. I will read more about him later. I think he hoped to marry Elizabeth, but married someone else who later died in suspicious circumstances (was he accused of pushing her down a flight of stairs??) I think at one point Elizabeth suggested he marry Mary, Queen of Scots and they all live together - that way Elizabeth could maintain her unmarried status and therefore ensure her sole power, while keeping tighter reins on Mary by controlling her choice of partner, plus stay in close proximity to her favourite man - however, the plan came to nothing. He married many years later to a lady called Lettice Knollys, much to Elizabeth's displeasure. She is one of the subjects of my 'queens an' tings' project I will address in more detail later. [Her son, Robert Devereux, 2nd Earl of Essex, became another favourite of Elizabeth's later in life, but he was involved in a plot to try to oust her from the throne, for which he was executed by beheading in 1601].

The painting on the front of the book is 'The Cholmondeley Ladies', painted by an unknown artist circa 1600–10. Perhaps a strange choice as a cover seeing as Elizabeth died in 1603 and the throne was brought under the rule of the House of Stuart?

[idontunderstandchemistry]

Indecent Proposal (An academic rivals to lovers fanfic) - Tim Drake x Latina!Fem!Reader.

Sinopsis: Being a scholarship student at Gotham's most expensive school is not easy, especially when your academic rival, your nemesis, who coincidentally is the owner's son, decides to make you a rather usual proposition.

Tropes: Academic rivals-to-lovers, contract/bet, he loved her all this time, everyone else sees it except them, opposites attract, etc.

Author's Note: As promised yesterday, here it is! For those of you that want to read some chapters ahead, feel free to acess my AO3 account here. TYSM for reading S2

Warnings: none,.

Wordcount: 1373.

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven: Chemistry in pink foam

Ignoring Tim Drake was harder than you thought it would be. He stared at you for most of the Geography class, you could feel his stare burning your neck. At least, he wasn’t as pretty today as he was the day before, since he looked tired, as if he hadn't slept the whole night. It was good, you wanted the guilt to consume him. 

The first three classes went peacefully. Maths was easy, Sociology was a bit harder but interesting anyways and, although his stare was a bit distracting, Geography was nice. At the break, you and Alysanne went to the outdoor camp to chat more privately. They were a bit concerned about their parents. Apparently, things haven’t been the same at the Lewis’ house for about a month now. Tim appeared, trying to catch your attention, but when he saw Alyanne crying as you comforted them, he vanished. Good, at least he knew to respect harsh moments. 

And then, after the break, there was Chemistry class. You were particularly anxious for this one, since because of an attack Bane had done in the first week, you haven’t used the lab and all of your classes were theoretical. However, last friday Bruce Wayne himself came to the Gotham Academy to the opening of the new lab. 

Miss Gillian was even happier. She hated theoretical classes. First she reunited the whole class and gave the speech about safety inside the lab and asked you guys to form pairings. Obviously, you and Aly stuck together, however, it didn’t last long. Timothy Jackson Drake Wayne gently touched Aly’s shoulder and asked them if they’d like to switch partners with him.

Aly, knowing that Duke Thomas always stuck with his brother, looked at you with puppy eyes. You nodded at them, smiling. This might be their chance to “grab” him. So now you were stuck with Tim, probably for the whole semester, if not for the whole year. Yey!

— Hi — He said, shyly, and you had to control yourself to not roll your eyes. 

— Hi — You answered, trying to not sound angry.

— Did you get the flowers?

— I did.

— Do you like them?

— I���ve cut them to the stems — You answered, wearing your lab coat, angrily. 

He gulped.

— Look, I’m sorry…

— Enough talking. I’ll grab the materials.

You managed to keep him quiet for most of the class, since the experiment Mrs. Gillian chose wasn’t complicated, but required your complete attention. However, halfway through it, he slid a paper note to you.

“I really am sorry. I got stuck in a unexpected event”

You wrote back to him.

“Really? I couldn’t have guessed”

“How many times do you want me to apologise? You really think I would let you wait?”

“It’s not about leaving me waiting, it’s about not sending a message saying that you couldn’t make it”

“I ran out of battery and when I finally could charge my phone, you had blocked me”

“I doubt with all my heart that no one had a charger to borrow”

He sighed, then he did the unexpected: He added something to the solution that made it explode pink foam at you and him. The whole class laughed and Miss Gillian came to your aid. 

— Oh, geez. How did you even do this? — She said, inspecting you both — It’s just foam, gladly. But I want you all to look at them. Two of my best students, covered in unicorn vomit because they didn’t pay attention to what they were doing. Take it like a warning. You two, go wash yourselves. 

You looked at him angrily as you removed your lab glasses, leaving them on top of the worktop. Now you were a joke. You left the lab, walking quickly towards the washroom. He followed you.

— Not now — You said, washing your hands, angry, when he opened his mouth. He sighed again and started to wash his hands too.

— You know what, fuck this — He said, closing the tap — I did not just made a joke out of myself in front of the whole classroom so i could have a moment alone with you for you to treat me like shit. Yes, i fucked up. I left you waiting, but I didn't do this on purpose. And yes, I ran out of battery, and no, I couldn’t find anyone to lend me a charger because there were no sockets on Waynetech’s roof, and I know this is ironic. All I wanted was to get out of there so I could spend the evening with you, but I couldn’t. 

— Oh, your father did as he liked when he was our age, and you really want to play the “I couldn’t” card against me?

— I am not Bruce, Y/N! — He exclaimed, taking off his lab coat so he could wash it, even though the pink marks probably wouldn’t vanish — He was very irresponsible when he was our age, yes, he was. He was a spoiled brat, a scoundrel, practically a whore who fucked half the socialites in town and didn't give them the satisfaction. He slept at events held in his honour and the most popular thing on the internet are headlines about the embarrassments he committed when he was drunk. But I am not like him! I wanted to be there with you, I really wanted to! And Bruce changed a lot since he became a father! He educated us so we didn't take him as an example, so that we became gentlemans! I would have messaged you if I could, but I couldn't! What will it take for you to believe me?

You simply couldn’t hold back. He seemed really sorry. Your hands reached your face and hungrily pulled him down for your lips to touch his. Like your last kiss, this one wasn’t gentle, sweet or pretty. This kiss was hungry and full of emotion. He pulled you by the waist so he could be closer to you. His grip on your skin was rough and passionate, his hands were warm and cling to you as if you were made of dust and could simply slip through his fingers. You couldn’t judge him. Your grip on him wasn’t sweeter. One of your hands reached to his hair and the other pulled him closer by his shirt. You were still both soiled in pink foam, but you couldn’t care less. Nothing else mattered now, just your lips and his. 

Then the door opened and you quickly split apart, both embarrassed and breathing heavily. Miss Gillian stood on the door with an unbothered look on her face. She took off her glasses and cleaned them on her skirt, then put them on again.

— Well, it seems that you both don’t suck in Chemistry after all, just needed a different environment — She said and you saw Tim get even more red.

— Miss Gillian, I can explain.

— Look, honestly, I don’t care — She said — Actually, I’m happy, this means I won the bet against the other professors, however, you two should really get clean and go fill up the lab accident report. 

— Bet?! — Tim asked.

— We are stuck with the class most of the year — Miss Gillian said, crossing her arms — Sometimes we want to see some drama. Mrs. Bliss and I bet you guys would get together at the beginning senior year, Mr. Tanner, a romantic, bet on the sophomore year. Miss Oliver bet on the Junior year and Mr. Ogwan bet on the Senior Prom.

— No one thought we wouldn’t?

— Mr Hansen, but he is Sociology professor, he knows nothing about chemistry or romance — She said as if it was something personal to her — Finish cleaning yourself. I want the report at my table by the end of the class.

Miss Gillian left the washroom, closing the door as she left. You and Tim stared at the metal door for some seconds, still completely shocked. Then he turned to you again.

— This kiss mean I’m forgiven? 

— Yes, you are — You said, after laughing and taking your lab coat off.

He smiled beautifully and you finished cleaning the coats and threw them into the drawer machine. You grabbed a laboratory accident report card for you to fill together at the library. 

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Nobody Left Behind

Prompt: So I don't know if you're taking requests? But I just watched Lilo and Stitch for the first time since I got into TSS and I've adopted the headcanon that it is Remus's *favorite* movie (and he's memorized the script) and I love your writing and I'd love to see something angsty involving Remus feeling lonely/unloved by his brother, and maybe Lilo and Stitch is involved somehow. IDK, go wild. (and feel free to ignore this if you aren't taking requests) <3 - anon

it is Le Fluff™ hours my good bitches

Read on Ao3

Warnings: Remus has some abandonment issues, but it’s not too much

Pairings: it is platonic all the way down, babes

Word Count:  2935

Ohana means family.

 Family.

 FamILY.

 What a weird word.

Sometimes it’s the people you’re born with. Well, not ‘with,’ not necessarily, but the people you are born to. A mother, a father, a sister, a brother. Sometimes two mothers, sometimes two fathers, sometimes a different parent. Sometimes two sisters, sometimes two brothers, sometimes a different sibling. Sometimes a mess of assorted people that all share the same blood. A family.

 Remus wasn’t born.

 He was made though, crafted and shaped and born out of the swirling chaos of a child’s mind that didn’t understand the world well enough without other people to help. He remembers getting cobbled together from scraps of thoughts and feelings and morphing them into limbs, into features, into something that vaguely resembled the body of the child he was made to fit. Not the ‘fitting’ was ever his job.

 Just his brother’s.

 Is his brother his family?

 By all accounts he should be, right? A brother is one of those people that are traditionally part of the ‘family’ group, right, someone to laugh with, cry with, fight with, live with. But is Roman really his…brother?

 That’s what they decided to call themselves because nothing else worked. They weren’t really brothers, they were halves. But they weren’t really halves because there was never a whole to begin with.

 The King wasn’t a ‘whole,’ he was…well, he was the King. Half of a king is not a prince. Half of a king is not a duke.

 Half of a king is a mess of blood and bones and viscera dripping off of the end of a Morningstar in the middle of the night when only a destroyed facsimile makes the insanity bleed away just enough to breathe again.

 The closest thing to twins, is what they decided on eventually. They’re twins. One light, one dark. One that marches boldly into danger to confront the wickedness of the world, one that dwells in the shadows and cackles with the demons nipping at his heels. One that loves, one that isn’t loved.

 Sure, they had some things in common. They both loved to fight, hence the scars and the bruises and the wounds that would never, ever heal, the distrust that would never be fixed ever, because the urge to sink their teeth into each other’s necks and rip never went away. They both loved to make, Roman the peaceful lies he tells himself to make up for the gaping wounds Remus leaves as he carves his perfectly tailored destruction. They both love Disney.

 Roman’s made it part of his whole deal as the Prince, he loves Disney. He bursts into song every chance he gets, drags the others in until the Mindscape rings with joyful song and there’s nowhere left for any sadness or darkness. He takes his lessons from it, models himself using the traits of the characters he admires most. Cultivates his art of storytelling, perfect to a tee.

 Remus loves Disney too. Loves how easy it is to twist the lens to distort the image just enough to let the darker parts of the Imagination run wild. What is the real implication of never growing old, never understanding what it means to die? What kind of person curses a ten-year-old boy for being cautious about who he answers the door to? What could the story have been if the prince never comes to save the day?

 When they were smaller it was fine. When they were still getting used to the fact that they weren’t King anymore, they used to sit and watch so many Disney movies. Roman’s favorite was always changing, one week it was Beauty and the Beast, then it was Mulan, then it was Cinderella, it never stayed the same.

 Remus’s was always Lilo and Stitch.

 Roman never understood it, said it was boring, there wasn’t a prince, there wasn’t anything exciting. Remus said that aliens were plenty exciting, thank you very much.

 But they would always watch it. The King wasn’t there anymore, but the prince and the Duke were.

 …when they were smaller, there was one time where the prince wasn’t there at all.

 Remus remembers waking up one day and feeling like he was being Split all over again. The maggots in his bones reached their awful little mouths into his heart and pulled, yanking him all the way across the bed and to the door, howling and screaming for his twin.

 Only to be met with a blank wall.

 He remembers howling at the top of his lungs until Janus had rushed to his side, kneeling down next to him and telling him shh, be quiet, hush now, you’re alright, you’re not hurt. And when he couldn’t explain that he was hurt, half of him was missing, Remus needed to go find him, Janus’s mouth had hardened into a thin line and told him that there wasn’t anything to worry about.

 He remembers thinking that was a lie.

 But it wasn’t. It wasn’t a lie.

 Roman was fine.

 Roman was more than fine, because Roman had a family.

 Roman had Patton, who is the actual manifestation of sunshine and rainbows and loved so much it almost burns. The darkness that wrapped around Remus’s corner of the Imagination screeched and hissed at the very idea of being loved that much, even as part of him strained with all its might to get to it. But Patton would never set foot near this side of the Mindscape.

 Roman had Logan, who represents everything true about the Mindscape, about Thomas, about the world. The reality of things that would never let anything Remus created make it anywhere close to anything important because it was dangerous, it was hurtful, and it was wrong. Logan wouldn’t want anything to do with something so useless.

 And that was okay. Because Roman may have been gone but Remus wasn’t alone. Remus had Virgil, who lived with fear soaking every fiber of his being. Remus had Janus, who wrapped himself in darkness and obscurity and laughed.

 But then Virgil left. And now Roman had Virgil, who used Thomas’s anxieties to keep him safe, to help Roman and the others figure out what to do, how to take care of everybody, and how to make the darkness go away. And Virgil would never willingly sink himself back into the darkness when he’d spent so long clawing himself out of it.

 But that was okay, because Remus had Janus. Janus, who plotted and schemed and smirked at how easily the others were pulled along by his strings, luring them deeper and deeper as Remus readied his Morningstar for the trap to be sprung.

 But then they sprung the trap and everything went wrong.

 Roman didn’t want to fight. He just…he let Remus knock him out and didn’t show up again except to scoff and say he didn’t like him.

 And that was…wrong.

 Because Roman wasn’t supposed to like him but he was never only supposed to not like him. Roman was supposed to declare that he wasn’t welcome and try and slash him with his sword. Roman was supposed to try and banish him from the Mindscape and spit insults at him until he left, cackling all the while. Roman was supposed to hate him.

 But Roman didn’t hate him, he just…he just said he didn’t like him.

 But that was okay, because Janus could just come up with a better plan with him this time. They could do it properly, and Roman would hate him again and it would be back to normal.

 But then Janus left. And now Roman has Janus, who keeps his eyes where the prince’s aren’t, when he can’t see what’s happening or he can’t bear to look, to help Roman figure out what to do when what seems to be happening isn’t anything that the prince is used to dealing with. And Janus would never willingly step away from a place that finally accepted him.

 Roman has them now. Roman has people that chose him. Roman’s family chose him. He chose them. They chose each other.

 Remus’s grip on his Morningstar slackens and the thing falls to the ground with a heavy clunk. He moves numbly through his room until he can fall to his knees on his bed.

 He just came from the living room. They were all there. Roman was talking with Logan, ranting about some new show they were both watching. Janus was in the kitchen with Patton, making something for dinner that everyone—well, almost everyone—could eat. Virgil was on the back of the couch, reaching out for Roman’s shoulder every once in a while.

Remus had waited behind the couch. For someone to sit down, for someone to see him and shriek, or even maybe—just maybe—for someone to ask where he was.

 But no.

 Patton had come over and gently ruffled Virgil’s hair, saying that dinner was ready. Logan and Roman had moved into the kitchen, demanding Janus’s attention and pulling him into their conversation. Virgil had murmured a quiet thank you and Roman had asked him for what?

 “Y’know,” Virgil had said, “for…this.”

 “Of course,” Roman had laughed, the soft rustle of fabric as he probably pulled the emo in for a hug—what did those feel like?— “I should be thanking you?”

 “What for, kiddo?”

 “I dunno, it just…feels like it’s been forever since we’ve all sat down for dinner together.”

 Remus’s chest had started to hurt.

 “The whole family.”

 The whole family.

 Remus’s eyes well up with stubborn tears and he angrily swipes them away, baring his teeth at the memory and focusing intently on the things on the bed. Each hand-stitched, each carefully kept clean.

 His family.

 He reaches out with a shaking hand and tucks the blue frog plushie into the crook of his arm, crawling into the middle of the bed and balancing the purple spider on his shoulder. His hands keep shaking as he wraps the long yellow snake securely around his neck, clutching the head under his chin and nuzzling it protectively. The dark blue cat he holds in his other hand, careful not to tear its tie as he scrunches in on himself.

 Wait.

 Wait.

 Where is it?

 No, no, no, no—

 Remus growls, placing all of his family gently on the floor before all but tearing at his sheets. Where is it, where is it, where is it—his heartbeat starts to rise as his search grows more frantic, where is it, where is it—

 The slightest little puff of red hair and he howls, lunging for it and sweeping it into his lap. He pauses to make sure the lion’s crown didn’t fall off and sighs when he sees it still in place. He sets the lion between his legs and leans over, adjusting everyone back into place and scrunching himself into a ball again. He rubs his nose against the lion’s fur and nuzzles into the soft fabric.

 He’d never be able to forgive himself if he lost them.

 Because Ohana means family.

 Family means nobody gets left behind or forgotten.

——————————————————

There’s a knock on his door.

 Why is someone knocking on his door?

 They knock again.

 Remus looks up, carefully butting the spider out of the way with his head and sitting up. The snake hangs off his shoulder and he lets it, only missing its warmth once the knock sounds again.

 The frog and the cat watch him warily as he climbs out of bed, the lion clutched in his hand.

 The door squeaks slightly as he opens it.

 “So, I’ve got popcorn, I found the weird gummy snakes, and they had this chocolate-covered bacon which we have to try—Remus?”

 Roman?

 Roman stands there, his arms full of snacks and blankets, his head tilted. He glances behind Remus—probably to check something or other—and then back at him.

 “Remus? Are you okay?”

 “Why are you here?” Roman doesn’t like him.

 “It’s movie night, Re, of course, I’m here.” Roman chuckles nervously before taking in his tear-stained face. “Hey, Re, what’s going on? Are you okay? Can I come in?”

 Why is Roman here? Roman has his family, what is he doing here? With Remus?

 “Remus—“ oh, right, Roman’s talking to him—why is Roman talking to him?—in a soft voice now— “Remus, hey, look at me.”

 Remus blinks. Oh. Roman looks concerned now, he’s reaching for him.

 “Hey,” he murmurs as he ruffles Remus’s hair, “what’s going on? Have you been crying?”

 Remus nods dumbly.

 “I’m sorry, Re, can I help?”

 Help? Why does Roman want to help?

 Oh, he’s waiting for an answer.

 “…sure.”

 “Thank you,” Roman says softly, “can I come in?”

 Remus steps aside wordlessly and Roman walks in, pausing when he sees the rest of Remus’s family on the bed.

 “Did you make them?”

 Something dark twists in Remus’s chest as he sees Roman reach for the spider.

 “Don’t.”

Roman backs off, stepping back as Remus snatches up his family and cradles them in his lap, glaring at Roman and curling up on the bed.

 “I won’t, Re, I’m sorry,” Roman says, still speaking softly, “can I sit?”

 “…floor.”

 Roman sits on the floor, setting aside the blankets and snacks, looking up at him. He still looks concerned. Why? Roman doesn’t like him.

 “Why weren’t you at dinner,” he asks gently, “I was worried.”

 Worried? About him? Remus snorts.

 “You had your whole family there,” he spits, “why would you worry?”

 “But you weren’t there,” Roman says like that makes any difference, “so I was worried.”

 Remus shakes his head. Roman doesn’t get it. Roman doesn’t worry about him, he worries about other things. But if Roman wants to know why he wasn’t at dinner, he’ll tell him.

 “I was with my family.”

 Roman’s brow furrows as he glances around again. “…your family?”

 Remus huddles protectively around his family. “Yes. My family.”

 Roman’s eyes widen as he takes in Remus’s posture and how he reacted when Roman asked about them earlier.

 “…are they your family, Remus?”

 “Yes.” He holds them tighter. “I chose them. They won’t leave me. They won’t forget me. That’s what family means.”

 Something crosses Roman’s face and he lets out a wounded noise. Wait. Are they fighting?

 “Wait, Remus,” he murmurs, rising up to his knees, “did you—did you think we forgot you?”

 “You did forget me.”

 “I’m sorry, Remus, I would’ve come to look for you, but I thought—“ Roman shakes his head— “no, it doesn’t matter what I thought. I should’ve come got you, Re, I’m sorry, I—I didn’t mean to leave you behind.”

 Oh.

 “…you didn’t?”

 Roman shakes his head furiously. “No, Remus, I promise. I never meant to leave you.”

 “But everybody leaves me.”

 If possible, Roman’s eyes are now wider and he scrambles for the edge of the bed. “What do you mean, Remus, what do you mean everybody leaves you?”

 “You left. Virgil left. Janus left. Everybody left.” The lion’s mane brushes against his lips as he bows his head. “But not them. They won’t leave me.”

 “Oh, Remus—“

 Something big lunges at him and Remus whimpers, he doesn’t have his Morningstar, he doesn’t want to fight, he doesn’t—he doesn’t—

 What’s happening? He feels warm and he’s being squished and Roman is pressing himself against him and what—what—

 “What’re you doing?”

 “It’s a hug, Remus,” comes Roman’s voice, slightly muffled, from over his shoulder, “I’m hugging you.”

 Oh.

 Oh.

 “R-Ro?”

 “Yeah, Re, I’m here, I’m right here, I won’t forget you, I won’t leave you behind, you’re my brother, you’re my family, I choose you.” Roman’s grip tightens on him and Remus just about gasps. “I choose you and I want you and I like you.”

 Roman…Roman likes him?

 Roman chooses him?

 Roman won’t…leave?

 “No, Remus,” Roman promises as he cautiously asks, “I won’t leave. Not unless you want me to.”

 “No.”

 “Then I’m not going anywhere.”

 That’s it.

 Remus throws his arms around his twin and sobs, cries an entire ocean of tears into his brother’s shoulder because he’s here and he cares and he chose Remus. The darkness shudders as that small part of him surges forward, into Roman’s chest, finding a home in the prince’s heart and languishing in the warmth there.

 “I’m right here, Re,” Roman murmurs, stroking up and down his back, “right here, I’ve got you.”

 The snake drapes itself cautiously over Roman’s shoulder, the spider taking up watch on his knee. The cat and the frog stare at him, making sure he isn’t lying, that he won’t change his mind. The lion, sandwiched between them, feels the reassuring rumble from Roman’s chest and purrs.

 After a long, long time, Remus pulls back a little and scuffs a hand over his nose.

 “…did you say something about chocolate-covered bacon?”

 Roman’s smile lights up.

 “Let’s put on Lilo and Stitch and we’ll try it.”

 Ohana means family.

 Family means no one gets left behind.

 Or forgotten.

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If you want to be added/taken off the taglist, let me know!

[remosdeerica]

Batshit AU Part #1: The Bio Kids

(Yes I have actually decided to call this the Batshit AU. I already have a series of one shots [there is only one so far, lol.] called Assorted Batshit on Ao3 so I figured I'd just keep going with the name.)

I have been posting a lot of stuff to do with "my Batfamily" or "my version of events" so I figured I'd go ahead and make some long ass posts about what I would love to see in the Batfam's future but know I will never get (but that's why fanfic exists so I guess I'll live)

Now there isn't going to be any clear timeline to this because I plan to write different fics in regards to these particular chain of events and when or how things happen might change depending on the plot. But it starts with the question asked by Random Joe many posts ago:

How many kids do you have, Mr. Wayne?

Well to answer that question:

Legally: 7

Biologically: 5

Emotionally: Anyone under the age of 25 that is within a 50ft radius (I'm mostly kidding but lets be honest, it's kinda true).

Now if that math doesn't make sense to you (as most math doesn't make sense to me), fear not! I shall explain!

So Legally we have as follows: Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Cassandra Cain, Tim Drake, Duke Thomas, Damian Wayne and Helena Wayne.

These are the obvious few.

Now we get into Biologically and things get a bit more complicated. For this category we have: Damian Wayne, Terrance McGinnis, Athanasia al Ghul, Matthew McGinnis, and Helena Wayne (I put them in order of their ages and added colours if you wanna skip my ranting and get to the goods).

Now for those of you who may not be as obsessed with Batfam lore as I am; yes all of these characters are canon (in some timeline anyway) and you are welcome to google them. But just be warned that I take canon and make it my bitch so almost nothing you read about them on their wiki-pages or wherever you look for your info will really matter (besides Damian but even then I take creative liberties). But I love Easter eggs so there will be plenty of those.

Damian and Helena are pretty straightforward. We know where Damian came from and Helena is just the result of Selina and Bruce finally getting their shit together.

Terry, Matt and Athanasia are a bit more complicated.

Terry & Matt: These two cuties were the unfortunate victims of an experiment called the Batman Beyond project. A project that was put into motion by A.R.G.U.S. after Bruce "died" (was lost in time) as a way to make sure that the Batman legacy lived on (as if he doesn't already have a million children for that).

Warren and Mary Singer were lead scientists on the project but after finding out what exactly it was that A.R.G.U.S. was doing with the "failed attempts" (they were killing them) the couple stole the toddler subject BN9-12 (Terry) and infant AC7-30 (Matthew) and fled (I made the numbers up on the spot don't read too much into them). They changed their names to McGinnis and raised the boys in Gotham City (cause that was a good choice...).

Unfortunately, their old lives eventually caught up with them and Mary and Warren were killed. Terry (around 10-11yrs old) took Mattie (around 7-8yrs old) and ran, his parents having taught him some skills in case something like this ever happened. The boys lived on the streets for many months before running into Tim Drake (i.e. Batman) who later adopted them (because when faced with black haired blue eyed orphans there is only one thing for a Batman to do).

[Side note: Tim doesn't know the boy's origins at this point.]

Athanasia: After Damian's death at the hands of the Heretic, Thalia went insane (more insane?) with grief and as a result decided to have another child with the left over.... substance.... shall we call it.... that she had acquired from Bruce all those years ago. However this time she intended to keep the child safe where they couldn't be hurt by either the League or Bruce (as if Thalia wasn't the main reason Damian was dead... but whatever. I have mixed feelings about Thalia).

When Athanasia was "born" (taken from her birthing pod, as one is) Thalia locked her away Rapunzel style in a secure location. Never allowing her outside for fear that she would be discovered by Ra's spies and killed.

For 8 years Athanasia grew up in relative luxury inside her bedroom, learning history, politics math, writing, and anything else Thalia thought she needed to learn. But Thalia never taught her how to fight (haven't quite decided her reasoning for this so just go with it) and as a result Athanasia is a very quiet, gentle child (basically the opposite of what Damian was like at her age).

Thalia never told Athanasia about Bruce. Since she wasn't created with the intent of being the heir to anything, Thalia saw Athanasia as only hers and therefore deemed it unnecessary for Bruce to know of her existence.

But she did tell her of her older brother; Damian (what Thalia told her is still undecided and will probably depend on overarching plots).

The rest of Athanasia's story is still in the works but essentially Damian eventually finds her and brings her back to Gotham with him. But although she acknowledges Bruce as her father, she lives with and defers to Damian (and Jon depending on the situation) as her caretaker.

So here is Part #1 of the Batshit AU!

Next Part will probably be about Dick and Jason's child situation that I've hinted at. I'll link it once it's done. :)

[bookstantrash]

A/N: Huge shoutout to the lovely @perseusannabeth​ who obsess over Pride & Prejudice as much as me. After very politely threatening asking  me to write more of Nessian as P&P (I’m so glad Sarah made it canon that Nessian’s relationship is Darcy and Lizzie’s) she told me about THE lake scene in the BBC version. I watched all six episodes and fell in love, so I highly suggest you all watch it too.

Also, huge shoutout to @firebirdofscythia​ (I stole your Azriel line lmao) and the rest of the gc for being so supportive!! Enjoy

Pemberley’s Lake

Cassian was so tired it was a wonder he had not fallen from his horse, which made him realise that Azriel may have been partially right in telling him to take a break and go back to his state to rest.

Although he suspected that Azriel kicking him out of his office and practically throwing him in a carriage to Pemberley had more to do with the fact that Azriel had gotten sick of his mopey mood more than anything else.

“I shall never show my face in society again” Cassian had told a bored looking Azriel one afternoon, laying on his office’s floor as if it was the end of the world “I shall work until my eyes grow tired and my beard and hair are so long they reach the ground.”

“Stop with the theatrics brother. It is not becoming of you.” Azriel had answered as he shuffled a deck of cards.

“Theatrics!! Azriel for Cauldron’ sake I have no idea how I can keep on living after that refusal” he sighed from his place on the carpeted floor “There is not another woman alive who could hold my heart. It's lost forever. And now I shall live in regret and shame of not being enough for her.”

Azriel rolled his eyes so hard at his brother’s words it was a wonder they did not stay permanently like that.

“I shall grow old and drown my sorrows in the finest beers and wines, turning fat and bald. And after I have passed, my cursed ghost shall roam our country crying in despair over my terrible life”

That had been enough to make Azriel pack Cassian’s belongings and get his brother the fastest horse available.

“If it were not for the laws of this land” Azriel had mumbled after he had bid his brother farewell, wishing a good trip and forbidding him to appear in his office again until he had fixed that mood of his.

Breathing in the clear and fresh air of his home, Cassian was able to momentarily forget his troubled heart. But one look at the blue sky and he was reminded of the gray-blue eyes belonging to the lady who had made him, General Commander of the British Army, who had enough condecorations to fill his whole coat and who had made enemies tremble in fear when faced against him, wallow in self pity and misery.

Lady Nesta Archeron.

Her name alone was enough to make his chest tighten in longing.

Feyre’s oldest and most notorious sister, if not by her breathtaking beauty and intellect but by her ruthless and dismissive regard to the oposite sex. Whereas Feyre had surprised society by marrying before her older sisters  — and securing herself the best of matches of the season at that with his brother Rhysand, which was nothing but a Duke  — and Elain had enough suitors to fill a ballroom, the oldest Archeron did not seem inclined to marry at all. Oh she did catch the eyes of more than one gentleman  —  Cassian could vaguely reckon that she had had a long courting with Sir Thomas Mandray, although it had ended rather abruptly — but no one had been able to snare her heart.

That had been what had initially peaked his interest. He had briefly seen her at Rhysand’s wedding, attempting some small talk that was easily and diplomatically dismissed by her. He had then relentlessly engaged in conversation with her in any opportunity he could find, being it from the few occasions in which she frequented Feyre’ small reunions over tea or when he coincidentally met her during her daily walks around town to visit Lady Emerie, a modice whose popularity was raising tremendously after Feyre’s bridal trousseau and wedding dress were all designed by her.

It was not until Feyre’s first official gathering as Duchess that Cassian realised the depths of his feelings for the sharp eyed lady.

He had been watching the ballroom from the sidelines, trying to escape the mob of scary mamas who wanted to throw their daughters at him, a glass of champagne in his hand.

Rhysand and Feyre had already danced the opening song, so the floor was now free to hold more partners. Both Cassian and Azriel had danced once with Morrigan — Rhysand’s cousin and a dear friend of theirs — and Elain had enough names on her card that they’d have to wait a fortnight to dance with her. Nesta on the other hand…. she had refused all invitations, although one could not help but wonder why by the way she seemed to glow whenever a new song was played.

“Lady Archeron” Cassian had greeted, bowing deeply and throwing at her his best smile, one that usually had young ladies fainting and old ones blushing.

But not Nesta Archeron. No, she had only deigned to make a polite bow and look ahead.

“I could not help but take notice of how entranced by the music you appear to be, my Lady” he had offered her his hand “Would you do me the honour of allowing one dance?”

That had caught Nesta’s attention, and she turned towards him, her gray-blue eyes finally meeting his hazel ones.

“I do not think why I should. I am perfectly satisfied to watch from the sidelines” she raised a perfect manicured eyebrow, glancing in the corner where the mamas and their daughters were “I am sure many other young ladies would rather have my place”

Cassian knew she was lying. Knew she desperately wanted to dance, but something was holding her back.

“It is said that dancing is the best way to encourage affection. Even if one’s partner is barely tolerable” he had nonchalantly said

“I beg your pardon” Nesta had exclaimed

“The lady has nothing to fear. I will not let you suffer ridicule because of your poor dancing” he had said in a patronizing tone, if only to see that fire in her eyes ignite.

And to see her accepting his offer with a murderous intent.

They had moved to the center of the ballroom, shocked faces all around them, both from the fact that Nesta was joining the dance floor and her partner being him of all gentlemen.

Cassian had never been proved more wrong once the first string from the violin was drawn and Nesta moved. He had been sure she knew how to dance, had only said those words to get a rise from her. But to see Nesta Archeron actually dancing… it was something straight out of a dream.

Cassian knew the waltz. His mother had insisted that all three sons have the same education, even though only Rhysand was set to inherit the duchy.

However, when paired with Nesta Archeron one could not be called nothing but a simple object to display her talents. Even the most notorious dancer would pale in comparison to her.

And Cauldron, she knew that. Nesta knew she was Terpsikhore, greek Muse of music, song and dance.

What a fool he had been, what a complete and utter fool he had made of himself. His only consolation was that some good had come out of his childish behaviour.

Nesta Archeron was dancing, and when she danced she threatened to bring empires to their knees, for her beauty got inhumanly enhanced, her delighted smile sending an arrow straight to his chest.

Cassian realised he had fallen hopelessly in love with Nesta Archeron. If he was to be true with himself, he had been for quite some time, since their first exchange of words when she had all but dismissed him as a pesky bug.

And as the last note was drawn, as the whole ballroom breathlessly took in Nesta, in complete awe of her, Cassian decided he was going to marry her.

Was going to propose to Nesta Archeron right at that moment.

Using the excuse of getting some fresh air after the tiring dance, he walked them to Rhysand’s extensive and well lit garden, quiet enough that they would not be interrupted but not so isolated as to risk her reputation.

They had walked only a few minutes in the garden when Cassian declared his feelings. He all but tripped with his words, hoping Nesta could see past his fool’s act.

She had not.

She had refused his hand in the most brutal way, her words so articulately poisoned that Cassian felt himself a young boy again, desperately trying to achieve perfection so his father would dare to spare him more than a passing glance. Would not regret having adopted him into his household and given him a home.

He had uttered an apology, saying how sorry he was that his feelings had caused her such pain and disgust, reigning his temper enough to walk her back to the ballroom.

Cassian left town the same night, and had stayed in his office and headquarters training the new milicia since then, burying himself with work until Azriel grew tired of his awful mood.

Sighing, Cassian brushed his horse’s neck, eyeing the lake.

Maybe a dive in the cold waters of Pemperley would help clear his mind.

~•~

Pemberley was, in Nesta’s opinion, the most beautiful state she had ever seen. Even more than her newly married sister’s dukedom.

“However this house’s lady is, she sure is happy” Emerie commented as the head maid showed them to the music room.

“As if someone could be unhappy with this much money” Gwyn whispered back, eyeing the grand piano.

Nesta was inclined to agree, even more after having seen the library. She could not help but envy the lady. Her husband must be a very cultured gentleman.

“May I show you the external grounds? I am sure the gentleman will find it quite delightful” the head maid said, looking at Balthazar, the only men among their group of four.

“I am most grateful for your hospitality” he answered, and they promptly moved outdoors.

Their party of four had been travelling through the countryside for almost two weeks. It was as much as a vacation for Emerie and Balthazar — with Emerie’s shop the season’s current sensation and Balthazar being her current business partner  — as a time out from the ton, which Gwyn — the most required opera singer of the season — had announced to be in desperately need of a vacation from.

As for Nesta, she had always wanted to travel, but as a single woman of marriageable age without a male relative to escort her, it would have been a nearly impossible feat to accomplish.

When Balthazar had offered to escort both her and her friends Nesta had wanted to shout in delight.

Secretly, she also wished to avoid a certain gentleman, one whose heart she had mercilessly and regretfully broken.

Nesta shook her head as she walked through the garden, distancing herself from her party to think and remember.

Remember how she had enjoyed dancing with Lord Cassian.

How her body had sung and heated where his skin touched hers.

How she had found herself smiling and agreeing to take a stroll with him, using the excuse of feeling overwhelmed in the crowded ballroom.

How his smile had faded once she tore at him, throwing every hateful word his way to refuse his proposal.

Nesta had not seen Cassian since her sister’s ball, but she did not want to risk an encounter.

That trip could not have been more well timed.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she did not notice her hair getting caught in a low tree branch, ruining her intricate updo.

“No one is around” she muttered to herself as she took off the pins holding it in place “A few minutes with my hair down will not hurt”

So Nesta took each pin off, massaging her scalp as she walked in the direction of the state’s lake, the sun shining over its  clear waters.

And that is when she spotted him.

Cassian.

Cassian was at the lake.

Cassian was shirtless, dripping wet by the lake’ shore.

Nesta knew she should turn around and forget what she was currently seeing.

But she could not take her eyes off of him.

Seeing a shirtless man in person was indeed a far cry from what her imagination conjured when reading romance novels.

Especially the way the water was running down Cassian’s tanned and hard torso, all the way down his pecs and stomach — was that a six pack or were her eyes playing tricks on her? — until it collided with his pants, which were hanging so low on his hips that Nesta could not help but feel a weird sensation low in her stomach.

Her legs stopped obeying her, and she swore her knees got weak when Cassian noticed he had company.

“Lady Archeron?” he exclaimed, as if he could not believe his eyes.

“Sir!” was all she could say, feeling her cheeks warming.

Cauldron what was wrong with her? It was just a body. A very nice, very wet muscled body and—

“What may you be doing here?” Nesta quickly inquired, cutting her errand thoughts.

“I am the owner” he simply answered

“Of the lake?”

She wanted to smack herself. How could have she blurted such a stupid and rude question?

“Yes, of the lake. And of Pemberley” he answered, amusement lacing his words.

“I didn’t know. The head maid said all the family was not home— we should not have presumed—”

“I returned without prior notice”

“Excuse me, are you and your sisters in good health?” Cassian added, and Nesta dared to think that he sounded a bit nervous.

“Yes. Yes they are. Thank you, sir” she managed to answer, her eyes firmly placed upon his face and not anywhere else.

“I am glad to hear that” he licked his lips and Nesta could not help but wonder if they would be cold due to the lake’s water or if Cassian’s unbothered face meant he was not cold at all.

Was she really inquiring of how his lips would feel against hers? Against her skin? If kissing Cassian would feel as dreamily as her novel's kiss appeared to be?

Nesta hated him.

Did she not?

“I had never seen you with your hair down”

Cassian’s words took her out of her reverie, and Nesta suddenly felt self conscious.

“Do excuse me for showing myself in front of you with such an unsightly appearance” she felt mortified. To have Cassian of all people seeing her like that, hair in complete disarray….

Nesta quickly turned around, fumbling with the hair pins in a vain and desperately attempt of redoing her hair.

“It’s beautiful” she heard Cassian saying in a breathless voice, and thanked the Cauldron her back was turned so he would not see how her face warmed considerably, a small smile gracing her lips.

“Let me help you” he quietly added, and she gasped at the proximity of wet, shirtless Cassian, who touched her hair softly.

“How come a gentleman such as you knows how to hairstyle a lady’s hair?” Nesta asked, feeling his warmth on her back, a tingly sensation between her legs when his fingers brushed her neck.

“I frequently helped my younger sister, Georgiana, fix her own hair in the occasions she played a little too far from what would be deemed proper for a young lady” she felt his hot breath against her neck as Cassian laughed “She favours outdoors activities such as horseback riding, although she’s quite accomplished in arts and music.”

“Your sister sounds lovely” Nesta said, turning to face him once she felt he was done fixing her hair.

“She is my brothers’ and mine whole world. There’s nothing we would not do for Georgiana”

Nesta felt her heart warming at his words, at his devotion and love towards his family. She wondered if he would do the same with his wife.

If he would have acted the same way towards her had she accepted his proposal.

Unbeknown to her, Cassian was imagining the same thing.

He was picturing how he could have helped her every morning with her hair if she had agreed to marry him. Instead, he would have to live with this one memory forever.

He was lost in her eyes, their bodies so close they were sharing breaths and Cassian was holding back by a sliver thread of self control to not hold her against him.

If it were not for the appearance of three people — Cassian supposed them to be Nesta’s companions — he very well could have done that.

“Excuse me” Cassian abruptly said, bowing deeply and leaving Nesta alone.

Although soon her friends joined her, Gywn and Emerie bombarding her with questions seeing her ruffled state.

Their party was getting ready to depart when Cassian appeared again, having ran inside to get changed and appropriate.

“Lady Nesta!” he called before she could get inside the carriage “Please allow me to apologise for not receiving you properly just now. You are not leaving?”

“We were, sir. We have already imposed too much” she said, spine straight and looking every bit the regal queen she was.

What he did not know was that was her way of maintaining a cool exterior and not blush remembering his naked figure.

“You are not displeased with Pemberley, are you?” Cassian asked, anxiously brushing his hair back.

“No. Not at all”

“And you approve of it?”

“Very much” Nesta said softly, a dreamy smile on her face as she remembered the library “A few would not approve”

“But your good opinion is rarely bestowed and therefore more worth earning” he said, and his smile was enough to make Nesta’s heart skip a beat.

Why was she feeling in such a way, she wondered. Why did her body feel hot and strange all over whenever Cassian was involved?

“Thank you. That is very kind of you”

“I shall not hold you back any longer” he said, helping her in the carriage, his calloused hand a stark contrast against her soft one “I will call on you and I hope you can introduce me to your companions. Perhaps we may go fishing tomorrow? My property is blessed with an abundance of them”

“We would be delighted to. Thank you, sir’

After the farewells were bid and Nesta’s carriage was only a distant dot in the horizon, Cassian got inside, smiling broadly at his head maid and butler.

“You are very chipper, sir'' the old woman said with a knowing smile, the butler agreeing with her. Their lord had been mopey for quite some time now, so it brought joy to their hearts to see his mood so high.

“I had a very good evening Mrs.Pots” he declared, thinking about how he should swim more frequently in the lake.

A few miles from Pemberley, Nesta stared at the scenery lost in thought, Cassian’s touch lingering in her hand all the way back to the inn.

•

Fixed Tag List: @sayosdreams​ @thewayshedreamed​ @sjm-things​ @perseusannabeth​ @arinbelle​ @caotica-e-quieta​ @vidalinav​ @swankii-art-teacher​ @ireallyshouldsleeprn​ @duskandstarlight​ @greerlunna​ @thegoddessaltenia​ @dayanna-hatter​ @verypaleninja​ @awesomelena555​ @courtofjurdan​ @valkyriewarriors​ @moe8​ @illyrianwitchling13​ @silvernesta​ @bri-loves-sunflowers​ @queenestarcheron​ @imwritingthesewords​ @vasudharaghavan​ @rainbowcheetah512​ @darkshadowqueensrule​ @letstakethedawn​ @starlightorstarfire​ @city-of-fae​ @thalia-2-rose​ @nestaarcher0n​ @rowaelinismyotp​ @julemmaes @dontgetsalmonella

{Please let me know if you’d like to be added to my Fixed Tag list}

[mettleborn-a]

ENEMIES TO LOVERS,  LOVERS TO ENEMIES AND EVERYTHING IN BETWEEN

@shelbysdevil​ said: “  we could have had a future,  you know.  i wanted to do this with you.  but you ruined it.  ”  (for Adelia)

“Lady Adelia Lennox, may I introduce you to Mr Thomas Shelby.” Her Brother-in-law’s polite and unexpected words had caused Adelia’s stomach to instantly lurch and as she’d turned to inspect whether it was merely a case of mistaken identity; the simple case of a man with a similar name; the truth of it, was not something she was prepared for at all...Tommy; Tommy Shelby, alive and well and standing in the middle of her ballroom. Instantly all the colour had drained from her face and she had been forced to excuse herself, claiming to have fallen suddenly ill. Immediately she had been accompanied to the dayroom by two servants, who had deposited her in a chair whilst the rest of her husband’s guests continued their revelry in the grand halls of her home. After waving her husband Henry away, insisting that she merely needed a quiet moment alone, Adelia had sat, staring out of the window, attempting to compose herself and stop the tears now threatening to fall.

Several years have passed since she was threatened and practically abducted by Major Campbell, forced to leave for London and vanish from Birmingham that very night, without leaving a trace. Tommy had only ever known her as a nurse named ‘Delia’ and so it had not been difficult for Chester Campbell to hide her whereabouts. The threat of incurring her father’s wrath had been compounded by the threat to kill Tommy if she had ever ventured near him again and so, painfully, reluctantly, she had complied. Even now, Inspector Campbell sends her correspondence, letters that sternly instruct her to keep her distance and contain details of the crimes the Major has judged Shelby to have committed, the seriousness of which had been enough to keep her silence. She has tried to move on with her life, has even married, but Tommy has never been far from her mind.

The minute he steps in the room, everything around him vanishes into obscurity; there is only Tommy; there was only ever, Tommy.

“I ruined it?” Her words are spoken with hushed anger, knowing that outside the dayroom her husband and his friends are likely standing, sharing jokes and cigars. Why does it make her feel shameful, dirty even to have him see her framed by such obvious privilege and opulence? Her title, her family name, wealth and standing in society; these are things she never shared with him, not because she wished to keep them secret but because, with Tommy, none of that ever seemed to matter.

“You really think this was my choice? You think I wanted to leave Birmingham…Major Campbell threatened to kill you, what choice did I have?”

Guilty, that is how she feels, she should have defied Campbell, should have made an attempt to, at the very least. “I never wanted to hurt you.” A future…could they really have had a future together? They are so different, even now. If Tommy was invited here, it was likely only so someone could use him to their advantage, or make a corrupt bargain with him. People may think Shelby a devil, but it is the aristocracy that are capable of dealing out the very worst cruelties without so much as batting an eye.

“I don’t love him.” The words are blurted, spoken coldly and in truth it is the first time she’s uttered them, or even truly admitted it to herself, but somehow she feels she needs to tell him, that he needs to hear it. “I’m the daughter of a Duke, Thomas, I don’t get to marry for love.”

[nutellaneedsanap]

Marijon Week 2021 Day One Prompt: Blue Eyes||Identity Reveal

at least i didn’t name myself after a restaurant @nutella(she_they)

WHEN WAS SOMEONE GOING TO TELL ME THAT SUPERBOY AND LADYBUG COULD SING- [video attached]

[The Video starts shakily, pointing at a 45 degree angle to Superboy 2.0. He is hovering near the edge of the roof and softly strumming a ukulele, seemingly lost in thought. The video zooms in and he begins to hum the intro to Ocean Eyes by Billie Eilish. He pauses, clears his throat, and begins in a beautiful tenor.

“I’ve been watching you, for some time. Can’t stop starin’ at those ocean eyes.” He flies backwards and sits on the edge of the roof, smiling.

“Burning cities and napalm skies,” a new voice continues. Superboy stops playing the ukulele and looks up, eyes wide. The cameraman gasps and pans to the right to find Ladybug. You can tell by her windswept hair and the way she is holding her yo-yo that she just swung onto the rooftop. “Fifteen flares inside those ocean eyes, your ocean eyes.” The camera follows her as she walks over to pull Superboy into a standing position. Smiling, the heroine continues in her surprisingly clear voice.

“No fair,” she nudges him. “You really know how to make me cry,”

Superboy snaps out of his stupor and joins her. “When you give me those ocean eyes, I’m scared. I’ve never fallen from quite this high falling into your ocean eyes, those ocean eyes.”

The song continues with the two of them dueting and harmonizing beautifly, crescendoing when appropriate and quieting down at the more serious parts. At some point, Ladybug grabs Superboy by the hand and pulls him to the center of the rooftop where she begins to dance. As the song comes to an end, they slow down considerably and their faces begin to drift closer. As soon as the last note leaves their lips, Superboy darts forward and captures her lips with his.

A whoop is heard from behind the camera, followed by an “Oh, shit!” when the superheroes break apart and look at the camera man. The camera shakes and the video ends.]

LIKE HOLY SHIT I GOT CAUGHT BUT IT WAS WORTH IT

Queen @ur_favorite_queer_queen

@nutella(she_they) ASFLKJEFLJEF NOT TO MENTION SUPERBOY 2 CAN PLAY THE UKULELE-

PunchLime(she/they/he) @lee_max

@nutella(she_they) [Insert image *okay, was anybody going to tell me that ladybug and superboy could sing or was i supposed to just figure that out via random twitter video myself.jpg*]

Robin @thefourthboywonder

@nutella(she_they) @thesecondsuperboy Jon-El, what are you doing with my little sister?

Jon-El @thesecondsuperboy

@nutella(she_they) @thesecondsuperboy @thefourthboywonder uhhhhh *gulps heavily* *looks at note cards* ...patrolling?

Robin @thefourthboywonder

@nutella(she_they) @thesecondsuperboy @thefourthboywonder Likely story. You may duel Father for her hand two weeks from today at the Batcave. Come or die, coward.

yes i am a bat leave me alone @Ladybug

@nutella(she_they) @thesecondsuperboy @thefourthboywonder *sigh* I am not your little sister, we were created in a lab and brought to life at the same time. Stop with the dramatics. We have been dating for 3 months, you know this.

purple and waffles @spoiler

@nutella(she_they) @thesecondsuperboy @thefourthboywonder @Ladybug OOOOHHHHHHHH SOMEONES IN TROUBLEEEEEEEEEEEE

Kon-El @theorginalsuperboy

@nutella(she_they) @thesecondsuperboy @thefourthboywonder @Ladybug no no, @thefourthboywonder has a point

Jon-El @thesecondsuperboy

@nutella(she_they) @thesecondsuperboy @thefourthboywonder @Ladybug @theoriginalsuperboy kon you’re supposed to be on my side!! its in the brother code!!!

Kon-El @theorginalsuperboy

@nutella(she_they) @thesecondsuperboy @thefourthboywonder @Ladybug @theoriginalsuperboy yeah but,,, its bug also rr would break up with me if i let anything bad happen to her i'm pretty sure

yes i am a bat leave me alone @Ladybug

To answer all the questions I keep getting, yes, I am dating Superboy 2, yes Robin and I are twins genetically created in a lab(Nightwing posted about this when we first started being vigilantes??), yes, I can sing moderately well, and no, we did not kill @nutella(she_they). They are perfectly fine, if a bit mortified.

at least i didn’t name myself after a restaurant @nutella(she_they)

@Ladybug yeah guys im completely fine, i even asked before posting the video and everything :) (also i appreciate the concern and all but how exactly would i post that if i was dead?) ((and i think @thesecondsuperboy is a bit more mortified than me, lol))

Jon-El @thesecondsuperboy

@Ladybug @nutella(she_they) yep! She is perfectly fine :) (i even flew her home) ((can you blame me?????? there is now a video of me singing on the internet))

at least i didn’t name myself after a restaurant @nutella(she_they)

@Ladybug @nutella(she_they) @thesecondsuperboy AFJELJFJ yes i can blame you lmao you let me post it

dat ass™ @nightwing

@Ladybug @thesecondsuperboy YOU GUYS ARE DATING AND I AM THE LAST IN THE FAMILY TO KNOW??? betrayal at its finest

I lived bitch @redhood

@nightwing i was the first(besides @blackbat ofc) to know and i think that is very sexy of me

dat ass™ @nightwing

@redhood you MONSTER how could you not tell me?!?!?!

I lived bitch@redhood

@nightwing my own brother,,,, called me a monster. he was right of course, but it still hurt

dat ass™ @nightwing

@redhood DO NOT QUOTE THE SACRED SERIES AT ME WHEN I AM MAD AT YOU

I lived bitch @redhood

@nightwing what cha gon do

MW @thefashionone

Hi um how much tea can i drink before dying? Asking for a friend.

Dick Grayson @thesexyone

@thefashionone send me your location im coming over

MW @thefashionone

@thesexyone HA im at metropolis with jon you will never find me

Duke Thomas-Wayne @thenewone

@thefashionone @thesexyone MARI HE IS HEADING TO THE AIRPORT HIDE HIDE HIDE

MW @thefashionone

@thefashionone @thesexyone @thenewone WHAT HOW NO STOP HIM

Duke Thomas-Wayne @thenewone

@thefashionone @thesexyone I TRIED I WAS TOO LATE @theprettyone HELD ME BACK

Cass Wayne @theprettyone

@thefashionone @thesexyone @thenewone Mari needs to sleep :)

MW @thefashionone

*gasp* my own SISTER

Mochegato @mochegato

@thefashionone @thesexyone @thenewone @theprettyone man i love the wayne family

Dicta-Ruler @Emmy_Phee

@thefashionone @thesexyone @thenewone @theprettyone @mochegato today is a good day to be a gothamite :)

@marijon-week

a big thank you to my friends from the MGI server who let me use their username for this!!!!!!

This is technically not late its 11 pm where im at rn soooo

also tumblr wont space it how i want it to but idc anymore im too tired

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

[podfic of] the care and keeping of your baby talon

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/1sgNbxr by kbirb pods (kbirb) Length: 00:48:47 Summary: Bruce has not had a moment of peace and quiet since he brought home the boy who tried to steal his tires, his sons came in with a talon trailing after them, and the neighbor kid invited himself to the manor. So he is more than a little annoyed when his eldest barges into his office “Yes?” he asks. “You need to come downstairs,” Damian says. “It’s the talon.”   In which everyone is more than a little cautious about the talon Duke brought home. Featuring chandelier swinging, Secret Garden reading, ill-advised sleuthing, and more. Podfic of the care and keeping of your baby talon by quandaries_and_contradictions. Words: 45, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 3 of [podfics of] birds and brothers and other assorted synonyms Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Characters: Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd, Duke Thomas, Damian Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Tim Drake Relationships: Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne, Duke Thomas & Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson & Duke Thomas, Dick Grayson & Alfred Pennyworth, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson Additional Tags: Dick Grayson is a Talon, Dick Grayson is a Baby, Young Dick Grayson, Reverse Robins, Batkids Age Reversal, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Dick Grayson-centric, Good Sibling Duke Thomas, Duke Thomas is a Batfamily Member, Damian Wayne is Bad at Feelings, Protective Damian Wayne, Good Sibling Damian Wayne, Good Sibling Jason Todd, Good Sibling Tim Drake, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Brotherly Bonding, Jason Todd is a nerd, Alfred Pennyworth is the Best, Good Grandparent Alfred Pennyworth, Podfic, Podfic Length: 45-60 Minutes, Audio Format: MP3, Audio Format: Streaming, Audio Format: Download read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/1sgNbxr

[eliemo]

Living in Denial

Janus’s pov in “Waiting Arms”

Summary: Janus had been a careful observer lately, noting with a sort of sad fondness how the other sides treated Virgil. He'd never seen him so content.

TWs: mention of past abuse

Masterpost

Taglist: @self-taught-mess @itawalrus @mygenderisidiot @a-very-gay-raccoon @dawnfire7 @cr4zyart @ray-does-stuff @whydoifeeltheneedtoorganizestuff @bunny222  @the-blue-recluse @bisexualdisaster106 (let me know if you want to be added or if I missed you)

To his own credit, Janus had been piecing things together before Roman even walked in the room.

He’d been a careful observer lately, noting with a sort of sad fondness how the other sides treated Virgil. They were careful around him, but not overly so. The four of them were clearly close, a tight knit “family” as they called it.

It wasn’t Janus’s department, but he could see the love and adoration in their eyes when they looked at each other. He’d never seen Virgil so...content. It was a bittersweet feeling.

So the idea that Roman, Patton, and Logan had been physically abusing Virgil this entire time didn’t quite add up. In fact, it seemed a rather ridiculous conclusion to come to.

If Virgil hadn’t been trembling on the floor, begging him and Remus not to hurt him (hurt him again), and shakily confessing that he had been hurt before, it never would have crossed Janus’s mind as a possibility.

And so, it wasn’t hard to come to the realization that Virgil probably hadn't been talking about to light sides.

By all logical reasoning (Logan would be pleased) he’d been talking about the Others. The less prominent, sometimes cruel parts of Thomas that would never fully manifest. The sides he, Virgil, and Remus had unfortunately spent a lot of time around for quite a few years.

Virgil’s behavior, his words, his panic, the way the light sides acted around him, it all pointed to the glaringly obvious conclusion that Virgil was recovering from the treatment the others had put him through.

Janus put the pieces together in a matter of seconds. He’d then promptly shoved it aside and jumped on board with Remus’s assumption as he stood in front of his brother, keeping Roman away from the anxious side falling deeper and deeper into panic on the kitchen floor.

Maybe it was selfish, but he could blame it on the fact that he wasn’t thinking very clearly at the moment.

He’d snarled at Roman, demanding the Prince explain what he’d done to Virgil, despite being almost entirely convinced at this point that Roman had done nothing but help him feel safe. Possibly for the first time in Anxiety’s life.

He denied the truth, despite how plainly it was laid out in front of him, because it was easier. Because accepting the truth meant accepting the fact that Virgil had undergone horrible treatment and Janus had done nothing.

All the nagging doubts he’d brushed aside, all the little white lies he’d caught onto and ignored, all the shaking hands and wide eyed, haunted looks that he’d chalked up to just another one of Virgil’s eccentricities. (He was Anxiety, after all, he was bound to be a bit jumpy by nature) All of that had been years of abuse, neglect, and mistreatment hidden in plain sight.

That little voice in the back of his head telling him something was wrong had been right. And that...that was terrifying.

So in the moment, he’d denied it. That was what he did best, after all.

But denial would only get a person so far. Denial would only crash and burn and spread into a devastating fire.

Because despite how hard he was trying, very little was going to be able to convince Virgil that Janus’s intent wasn’t to harm him. Not until he calmed down.

And then Virgil was gone, sinking out away from the noise in the kitchen, and Janus couldn’t honestly say he was surprised, alarmed as he was.

“Get off me, you idiot!”

Janus glanced behind him, shoulders sagging at the sight of the brothers. Roman had tried to push past Remus, the Duke grabbing the Prince’s sash and shoving him back, and Deceit knew if it was only a matter of seconds until someone threw a punch.

But in the moment, Janus couldn’t move, the loathsome truth fighting its way to the surface no matter how much he hated it, still kneeled on the kitchen rug.

The rug...the rug that definitely hadn’t always been there. The rug they’d placed beneath the cabinets seemingly out of nowhere one day. The rug that didn’t particularly go with the rest of the room.

Janus had once made a snide comment he didn’t really mean to Logan, offhandedly mentioning that they should get rid of it. He’d never seen the logical side grow so righteously defensive so quickly.

There had been a similar occurrence when he’d brought up the cups the light sides used. The plastic cups…

The truth was piecing itself together, and Janus thought he might be sick.

“What’s going on?”

Patton’s voice, frantic and confused, was flooding the kitchen before Deceit could pull himself together and reign in the chaos, the moral side skidding to a stop in the kitchen doorway.

And before Janus could stop him, Remus was releasing his hold on his brother and whirling around to face Morality.

“What the fuck have you done?”

The moral side paled, eyes going wide, and Janus wondered if anyone had ever had the audacity to swear at Patton before.

“I- what? Remus, calm--”

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” Remus was still clutching his Morning Star, and Roman was carefully moving to put himself in between the two sides. “Tell me what the fuck you’ve done to Virgil!”

It was like a string had been cut. Patton’s face dropped, something dangerous hardening in his eyes. His gaze went to Janus on the rug still stained with spilled water, then to Roman shakily hovering in the middle of the chaos.

“Where’s Virgil?” Patton asked, and Janus had never heard Morality sound so cold. “Roman--”

“He sank out,” Janus said, finally finding his voice for the first time since Virgil had disappeared. “I was...attempting to calm him down.”

“Oh god.”

Remus reached for Patton’s arm as the moral side turned away and Janus quickly forced himself to speak again, beyond grateful for the way his words didn’t tremble.

“Let him go, Remus,” he said. “It wasn’t them.”

Remus turned to him, incredulous, but dropped his hand all the same, Morning Star still held tight in the other. Patton threw him a questioning glance, but was hurrying through the doorway without another word.

He nearly ran right into a slightly disheveled Logan’s chest.

“What on earth?” He frowned when Patton didn’t answer, barreling past the logical side and out of the kitchen. “I heard yelling, is--”

“What do you mean it wasn’t them?” Remus was spinning around to face Janus, completely ignoring Logan’s tired confusion. “Virgil just said--”

“You're not listening! ” Roman jumped in, and Janus watched Logan quietly take in the scene. “If you would just calm down and let us explain--”  

“Roman.”

Janus didn’t jump- not quite. He would never allow himself to so visibly lose his composure, never in front of so many people. But Logan’s voice, the look in his eyes, was more than enough to bring silence to the room.

When Deceit looked up at Logan, it was like reading an open book. Janus could pick up on lies, read between lines like a second language, but with the logical side there really was never any need.

Logan, for all the times he claimed not to feel, felt more clearly, more strongly than even Patton. He felt and expressed his emotions more intensely than any of them, all while adamantly denying their existence.

And right now, Janus only needed a single glance to see Logan’s anger.

“What happened?” he asked, eyes on the Prince, voice steely calm. “Where is Virgil?”

There was worry beneath the anger, but not nearly enough at the moment to grant them any mercy.

“He was having an attack,” Roman explained, defenses dropping, and it was clearly a frequent enough event that Logan instantly knew what he meant. “I was trying to help him but they wouldn’t let me!”

Janus would never admit it, and he wondered if Remus felt the same, but something about Roman’s aggression sent a pang of...something though his chest. Something that hurt.

He deserved it, he knew. He wasn’t even close to being one of them. He might never be. But he’d been making strides lately, small as they were.

Now, it was like being back on the outside looking in.

But that didn’t matter right now. What mattered is that Remus was quiet, and Janus needed to keep it that way before someone threw a punch.

“I think it is safe to assume,” Logan was saying before Janus could gather his thoughts. “That Janus and Remus have no knowledge of Virgil’s previous treatment. They were trying to protect him.”

“All I know,” Janus said, the bite to his words the last defense he had left. “Is that Virgil was convinced he was going to be beaten. Again. We were a bit caught off guard, so forgive us for taking initiative, Roman.”

“And look where your initiative got you!”

“So what you’re saying,” Logan snapped, turning back to the twins before Janus could retort. “Is that Virgil had already been triggered into a panic attack, and you two decided to have a shouting match five feet away from him?”

Roman had the decency to look guilty, the fight deflating completely from his stance, but Janus couldn’t find it in him to be relieved. Not when Remus was looking progressively more and more panicked beside him.

“I was- I was just trying to help! I thought you--”

“Living room.” Logan’s voice was cold, and even Janus couldn’t shut the Duke down that easily. “All of you. Now.”

Janus, for once, didn’t argue, and he suddenly realized he still hadn’t moved from his crouch on the kitchen rug.

Regaining what little dignity he had left, Deceit quickly picked himself back up, absently brushed off his clothes like he wasn’t just barely numb enough to avoid breaking down completely, and stalked right past the others, all while ignoring the death glares Roman and Remus were sending each other.

Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately- he really wasn’t in a headspace to have his worst fears confirmed), the dreaded conversation wasn’t yet ready to happen.

“Logan!”

Patton was barreling down the stairs, eyes only on the logical side, trembling and frantic, and Janus felt something uneasy clawing at his tightening throat.

Remus had moved to the couch, perched on the arm with his legs crossed, watching the others uneasily. He kept glancing at Janus, but Deceit couldn’t bring himself to look over.

“He’s not there,” Patton hissed, voice laced with panic as he gripped Logan’s sleeve. “He’s not- he’s not in his room, I can’t find him I can’t--”

“Patton, please attempt to calm yourself.”

“He’s gone again!” Patton’s voice caught, eyes welling with tears, and Janus quickly turned away. “It’s happening again, he...what if he- Logan I can’t let this happen again!”

There it was, once more. Again. It was going to happen again. Virgil didn’t want to be hurt anymore.

All of it. Over and over again for god only knew how long. And Janus, priding himself on being a silent observer, on always knowing more than he let on, had just...he’d just…

Janus was sinking out of the living room before he really had time to wrap his head around where he was going, He tried not to think about the irony of following in Virgil’s footsteps.

But if Virgil wasn’t in his room, something that was clearly alarmingly familiar to the others, then Janus was almost positive he knew where he was.

He’d practically said it himself in his panic, a shred of safety he’d desperately clung onto.

“Hey, you’re ok.”

The words were already filtering in by the time Janus appeared beside the staircase in Thomas’s living room, dread already lessening at the apparent lack of panic in the host’s voice.

“You’re ok, bud. You’re safe. It’ll be ok when you wake up.”

Virgil was on the couch (Janus hadn’t quite expected to feel the relief that strongly, legs threatening to give out beneath him), eyes closed and breathing beginning to slow.

Thomas was kneeling on the floor beside him, one hand carding through Virgil’s hair, the other carefully interlocked with the anxious side’s, speaking soft reassurances as he slowly drifted off.

Thomas was a good person. Janus knew that, despite any arguments he may have made in the past for the sake of proving a point.

Thomas was compassionate. He cared, more than anyone. And yet it still caught Janus off guard to see him act so gentle towards Anxiety.

With theories of what had happened to Virgil in the past forming in his head, Janus decided that was for the best. Virgil needed people to be gentle with him.

He wished he’d been able to offer that.

Janus was taking a step forward before he could stop himself, voice much smaller than he would have liked. “Thomas?”

Thomas froze and fell silent, shoulders tensing slightly, but he didn’t turn away from a now still and quiet Virgil.

For a moment the living room was quiet, and Janus wondered if he should just duck out, hurry and tell the others that Virgil was safe.

But he couldn’t move, completely frozen once again, and Thomas let out a quiet sigh.

“It’s not your fault,” he said, and Janus did not care for being thrown off by his own host. That was his job. But Thomas was continuing before he had the chance to come up with an answer. “Can you grab me a blanket from the closet?”

Janus opened his mouth to respond, something sarcastic and witty automatically at the tip of his tongue, but then his eyes fell back onto Virgil, the guilt flooding back, and any usual snark died in his throat.

“Of course.”

Thomas had a few blankets folded up on the closet shelf, and Janus carefully took the softest one in there- a dark gray comforter he thought he might have seen Virgil use before.

Wordlessly, he handed it over to Thomas and watched as he draped it over Virgil, careful not to wake the anxious side.

“He’ll be ok,” Thomas said, and took a shaky breath. “Did you...did you know?”

“Oh yes.” There was no use in even trying to control his own response. “I was fully aware that Virgil was being horrifically abused every time I had my back turned. I stood there and did absolutely nothing to stop it. Is that what you want to hear?”

Thomas was staring at him, probably watching Deceit with that unbearably gentle gaze, but Janus refused to look. He kept his eyes on Virgil, gloved hands clutching his own sleeve, refusing to acknowledge the fact that he’d started to shake.

As awful as it was, as selfish and cruel as it was, he wished the light sides had been the ones hurting Virgil. He wished this was something recent. He wished there was an excuse for not noticing.

“Janus?”

It took him a moment to realize that wasn’t Thomas speaking, Patton now beside him in front of the couch. Thomas was nowhere in sight, and Janus had no idea how long he’d been standing here.

“Can you head back to the mindscape, please?” Patton asked, a hand coming to rest on Janus’s arm. He didn’t pull away. “The others wanna talk to you.”

Janus scoffed, still frozen in place. “You all must be thrilled. Finally an excuse to send the dark sides back where they came from.”

He didn’t spare Patton anything more than a cautious glance, but it was enough to see his eyes filled with a disgusting amount of sympathy.

“We know you would never hurt Virgil,” Patton said. “Remus wouldn’t either. We all know that. I trust you, Janus.”

Janus shook his head, throat far too tight to form a coherent answer, taking a moment to breathe. “Are you coming?”

“Not yet,” Patton said. “I...think I need to stay with him. Just for right now.”

And Janus supposed he understood that. A part of him wanted so desperately to stay, to never let Virgil out of his sight again just to be absolutely sure he was safe.

But he didn’t have the right to make that request. Not when he’d clearly failed so spectacularly at keeping him out of harm’s way before.

He sank out without another word, trusting Patton to do what he couldn't.

The living room in the mindscape was almost exactly the scene he had expected. Logan and Roman were on the couch, the Prince scowling at Remus who was pacing the floor, whatever rant he was going on falling silent as soon as Janus reappeared.

The Duke’s eyes lit up as soon as he saw him, brimming with unabashed hope and desperation, and Janus’s heart sank when he realized what Remus wanted.

Remus was waiting for a better explanation, for Janus to assure him that what the light sides were saying wasn’t true. That Virgil hadn’t been beaten behind their backs for years.

God, Janus wished he could offer him that.

Instead, he moved over to the empty armchair, sat down with his hands folded in his lap, and steadily met Logan’s gaze.

“Tell me what they did to him.”

He didn’t look away. Not when Remus stormed out of the room and a door slammed somewhere in the mindscape a few seconds later, not when Janus’s gut twisted in anger and disgust when Logan told him details.

He did, however, begin to feel like he might throw up when they explained that Virgil had been taught that it was normal.

“Janus.”

Janus hadn’t realized he’d stood from the chair, already moving towards the stairs until Logan was suddenly following him, voice curt and pained. Deceit forced himself to turn back around.

“I can’t say that I fully trust you yet,” Logan said, and Janus almost laughed at the logical side’s bluntness. “And I have my differences with Remus. But I know you two would never hurt Virgil. I know you would have stopped it if you’d known.”

Of course he would have. If he’d ever caught one of the others in the act, ever seen the abuse in action, it never ever would have happened again. No one would dare.

And they’d known that. So they’d hidden it. And Janus had never thought to look deeper into the little, seemingly meaningless lies. The way sometimes Virgil would be limping…

God, what the fuck was wrong with him? How on earth was anybody willing to accept him when it had all been his fault?

But he didn’t say any of that. There was no excuse, no reason to drag this on any longer than was needed.

“Alright,” he said instead, continuing up the stairs. “Tell me when he wakes up.”

Janus thought briefly about checking in on Remus, but quickly decided he couldn’t bear to see his own guilt mirrored in the Duke’s horror.

Later. They would talk about this later.

Instead he locked himself in his room, doubting anyone would come looking for him but fully prepared to turn them away if they did. He didn’t want to face anyone right now. He didn’t plan on leaving until Virgil was awake.

He stayed there in silence until Patton softly knocked hours later, the sky dark and his head heavy, nervously informing him through the door that Virgil was awake and up for visitors.

And in those hours, if he’d let his walls down and privately lost his carefully upheld composure, well...no one needed to know.

All that was left to do was move forward, and make sure Virgil knew he would never be hurt again. Janus wouldn’t let him. Not again.

[phis-corner]

I recently read your platonic brucinette post, it was amazing, i couldn't stop laughing. What if she invites herself over to the Manor or something and the boys have no idea who she is (cause I feel like he wouldn't mention her cause she would probably ruin his reputation even more since his kids would probably spread the stories to their own friends) but I feel like maybe Tim already know her since he was in Paris looking for Bruce (when he got "killed" by Darkseid), he would probably see her as a mom or fun aunt that he could vent to

Ask and you shall recieve! again, any grammar mistakes are because I did not bother proofreading. whoops.

Masterlist ◈ Original

Dick Grayson had seen a lot of unexpected things throughout his lifetime, but he really did not expect to come downstairs for a nice bowl of cereal for breakfast and find a woman who looked eerily like the late Martha Wayne sitting at the table and eating his Bat Puffs.

Wait.

“Those are my Bat Puffs!” Dick shrieks, because he has priorities. That’s the last of his cereal, okay? And it’s going to be two days before Alfred goes on his next grocery run and he’s really bad at shopping for food on his own. Sue him.

Not-Or-Maybe-Possibly-If-You-Believe-Conspiracy-Theories-Martha-Wayne simply laughs, and easily dances out of the way of his grab for the bowl, moving out of his reach with an elegance and grace that can only mean she spends part of her day dressed in a different costume. Whether or not she was a good guy still remained to be seen, considering she had somehow broken into the Manor without setting a single alarm off and was currently eating the last of his Bat Puffs. 

A truly despicable act, indeed.

“Grayson?” Damian chooses that exact moment to come down the stairs. “I heard you scream. What’s-” He snarls the moment he catches sight of Not-Martha-Wayne, pulling out a knife from somewhere in the folds of his pajamas and hurling it at her head with impressive speed and accuracy.

Not-Martha-Wayne simply ducks, letting the knife thud into the wall behind her, making Dick wince. Alfred was not going to be happy.

“Identify yourself, woman!” Damian screeches, pulling out another knife. “Who are you, and how did you get in here?”

Not-Martha-Wayne tilts her head, blue eyes sparkling with mirth. “Really? I’m not even allowed to eat cereal in my own home now?”

Dick is slowly growing more and more convinced that Not-Martha-Wayne is actually Zombie-Martha-Wayne.

Damian freezes, eyeing her suspiciously. “Your home?”

“Wh’s goin’ on?” Tim slurs, stumbling down the stairs. “Why ‘re you all screamin’?”

Maybe-Zombie-Martha-Wayne brightens when she sees Tim. “Timber! How’s it going?”

Tim rubs his eyes, once, twice, and then his face splits into a grin when he finally registers Maybe-Zombie-Martha-Wayne’s presence. “Marinette! It’s so good to see you!”

And okay, what.

Tim hurries down the stairs (meaning only marginally faster than before, he hasn’t had his morning coffee yet,) and ignores the coffee machine in favor of hugging Possibly-Undead-Martha-Wayne, who laughs and puts down the bowl of Bat Puffs in favor of hugging him back. Dick takes the opportunity to snatch the bowl away from her, mourning the fact that there’s only a bit of milk left at the bottom of the bowl.

“Good to see you too, Tim,” Not-Martha-Wayne, whose name is apparently Marinette (why does that sound familiar?) ruffles Tim’s hair. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“Tim,” Dick says, at the same time Damian demands “Drake.”

“How do you know this woman?” They say at the same time (Dick stubbornly ignores that Damian replaced ‘woman’ with ‘harlot’).

“You mean you don’t?” Tim asks, frowning. “She’s-”

“Marinette,” Bruce cuts Tim off, having appeared at the foot of the stairs in his usual dramatic fashion. 

Not-Martha-Wayne-But-Still-Really-Looks-Like-Her-Whose-Name-Is-Apparently-Marinette beams and waves cheerfully at Bruce, who looks done with life. “Hey, little brother! I see you haven’t gotten tired of dressing up as a giant bat to beat people up yet!”

Well, that was a lot to unpack. Dick decided he’d start with the easiest thing.

“Little brother?” He looks from Marinette to Bruce, Bruce to Marinette, noting the resemblance in both of them to Thomas and Martha Wayne. “You mean- she’s your older sister?” Dick shrieks, turning to Bruce. “Why have we never heard about her?”

“Really, Bruce?” Marinette gasps, mockingly placing a hand over her heart. “I’m devastated. How could you, after everything we’ve been through, not even tell your hundred thousand children that I even exist?”

Bruce doesn’t reply, instead letting out one long sigh through his nose. Huh. Sixteen whole seconds. Impressive.

“Just kidding,” Marinette grins once Bruce has finally stopped sighing. “He’s never told you because I travel the world a lot, my job is super dangerous, and because I’d expose all his deepest, darkest secrets.”

“Like his greatest fears?” Damian asks. Cass, who had silently entered the kitchen at some point or another, stood behind him, ready just in case he pulled out another knife.

Marinette tilts her head. “What? No!” Like how he wiped off one of the eyebrows on Sylvia McCartney’s face when he was four-”

She doesn’t get to finish that sentence because Bruce has made a mad dash across the kitchen, evidently aiming to get her to stay quiet. Marinette dances out of his hold with a giggle and continues speaking even as Bruce chases her all around the kitchen.

“-anyway, he declared that ‘she had something on her face’, wiped off one of her drawn-on eyebrows-” She ducks underneath a plate, which Cass deftly catches before it hits the wall. “-and then went ‘There. I got it for you!’”

A shoe flies at her head. Marinette bats it away with one hand. 

Dick tries valiantly to stifle his snickers, but judging by the evil eye Bruce is giving him, it’s not quite working.

“And there was that time we were at that four-star restaurant in Star City and he ate too much and-” Marinette raises an eyebrow as she catches a toaster in her hands. “Really now, Bruce? A toaster? You know it’ll take more than that to stop me. So he ate too much and got a stomach ache, then started holding his torso and very loudly declaring that he was starting his period.”

Dick doesn’t even bother holding in the laughter this time, and neither do any of his siblings. If only Jason was here to see this, but alas, he was at his own apartment and had no clue that this was going on. Neither did Steph, for that matter, and Duke was already out on patrol since he was somehow a morning person. What a travesty.

“And then there was that time when-” Marinette is cut off by another one of Bruce’s long, very drawn-out sighs. 

“Look, Mari, I think they get the point,” He groans (well - as close to groaning as the Batman ever got), pinching the bridge of his nose. “You can stop now.”

“Oh, you’re just annoyed that you couldn’t stop me,” Marinette retorts with yet another smile, and Dick is once again struck by how similar she looks to the lady in the portrait that hangs over the fireplace in the largest of the Manor’s three living rooms. “I suppose you’re right, however. Despite the abundance of embarrassing stories, they do run out at some point, and I’d prefer not to use them all up in one go, ya know? I have to be the cool aunt. Kate can keep wine aunt, but I’m the cool one now.”

“I think Miss Katherine might disagree with that,” Alfred says mildly. “However, I do believe you can win the children over if you tell them about the time your father brought Master Bruce to his board meeting.”

The look of utter betrayal Bruce gives Alfred makes them crack up all over again.

--o0o--

“Man, I am so glad you got it all on camera,” Duke grins, placing two bowls of popcorn on the coffee table before flopping back down onto the couch. “This is going to be great.”

Tim waves a hand dismissively. “I just hacked the cameras in the Manor. Bruce’s paranoia backfired this time.”

Steph cheers and immediately makes a grab for the popcorn as Cass hits the play button on the remote, and Dick can’t help but crack a smile at his own face when he sees the last of his cereal being eaten.

“Richard, I find it concerning that your first thought was of your cereal and not the intruder,” Damian observes.

Dick ruffles his hair, drawing out a squawk of protest. “Well, what can I say? I really like Bat Puffs.”

The Wayne siblings settle down for a movie night that is definitely going to be filled with lots of laughter.

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