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#fic but it was about young justice turning up at the manor for some reason??
franzwantscoffee · 2 years
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Tfw you can't find a fic that you've already read bc its somewhere in the massive pages of unfilterable ao3 history and searching the tags turns up nothing bc you can't actually remember what the tags on it were
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yuleshootureye · 7 months
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I don't think it's fair to say that people only like WFA if they prefer the fanon, idealized versions of Batfam characters.
More rambling about comics and fandom under the cut, but the tldr version is that a) sometimes people want slice-of-life stuff for their favorite characters and b) if I have to put up with Dark and Gritty, unnaturally-prepared, child-slapping Batman, fans of that guy can put up with some light and fluffy manor hijinks like WFA.
Yes, there is an active and vocal portion of DC fandom that wants things from canon that will never happen. Partially that's because fandoms typically always want things from canon that would never happen. Teen Wolf and SPN fans want a coherent narrative that actually addresses the themes and character choices portrayed on the show. CA:TWS fans want to dig their claws into Steve and Bucky's relationship AND the US Military Industrial Complex in a way that the MCU never will. Stranger Things fans want some honest-to-God character development. And part of what I see in DC fandom is similar: what do fans of works where the characters are constantly emotionally and physically stressed want from their fanworks? Hurt/COMFORT and/or curtain!fic, in my experience.
And yes, partially that's because there seems to be a large portion of DC fandom that have not read a significant portion of the comics.* And/or watched the tv show(s). And/or watched the movie(s). And fanon builds on fanon until suddenly Tim Drake is crying because no one has ever hugged him, Cas/Steph/Duke are Sir Not Appearing in this Film, Jason is Gotham's #1 feminist, Dick is a golden retriever in human form, Damain is baby™, and Bruce would NEVER endanger his children by letting them go out and fight crime. But that happens in every fandom, to some extent.
I think it's perhaps more pronounced in DC because it's a comics fandom without any one unifying canon that most people are drawing from. For good or for ill, the Marvel fandom is typically able to circle the wagons around the MCU, with people incorporating various aspects of the 616 or Fraction's Hawkeye or whatever Spider-Man movie's come out most recently. DC doesn't have that. There's 80+ years of comics, including reboots that are supposed to make things less confusing (but YMMV on the effectiveness of that), and characterizations that change with the times; CW live-action TV shows; the Snyder-verse live-action movies; the NON-Snyder-verse live-action movies; the DCAU or Dini-verse/Timm-verse; the DC animated movies that are generally adaptations of comic storylines; the 2005 Teen Titans animated show; the 2010 Young Justice animated show; TITANS; The Batman (the animated show!); The Batman (R. Battinson!); Gotham; Smallville; Lois and Clark; etc, etc, etc.
I came to comics from the DCAU. I watched Smallville far past the point where any reasonable person would have quit. When I first watched 1978's Superman, I was confused that John Kent was dead, because he wasn't in the canons I was most familiar with. It's obviously not a 1:1 comparison, but I do think the question of "what do you want from canon" depends on what canon you're talking about.
And I don't mean to sound like I'm coming down on the side of people who are only familiar with fanon trying to argue they know the characters better than people who've actually consumed canon. But I do think DC being such a broad canon with no unifying property makes it a difficult discussion to have unless you start off by identifying the parameters.
ANYWAY, the point I've been dancing around is that there's enough canon that when someone says "MY Batman would never do that", they might be talking about their fanon or they might be talking about animated show #903 or the Tim Burton movies or whatever. Also, I had to put up with Nolan!Batman being the Batman du jour for like 10 years. It's WAFF WFA Batman's turn to be in the spotlight for a hot minute.
(Also, as greater minds than mine have pointed out, comics are, in general, a collective mythology of the modern era. And if you've ever tried to look up the One True Version of a myth, you'll know it's a frustrating exercise in futility)
*Of course, there's also a question of "what counts as a significant portion of the comics". Someone semi-recently ran a poll of "would you say you've read a lot of comics" and I was torn because I've read a lot, but in fits and spurts over the last 20 years, based on what was available at my local library or bookstore, and with nowhere near the focused attention that others have managed.
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You know the whole Baterang to the throat thing that causes a lot of discussion in the fandom? I think Bruce might not have been aiming for the throat
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It ricochets
This point in comics Bruce has been through a ringer Steph's died, Barbara and Jim have left, Leslie betrayed him and he's had to send Cass and Tim away and now Jason is back but for revenge so Bruce isn’t at his best and I think Bruce threw the Baterang in a moment of panic and either over or undershot which ended up with well that.
This moment causes a lot of debate but I don't see it as “Bruce harming Jason to save the joker” the way a lot of fics paint it I see it more as he'd been aiming for Jason's arm or something to disarm him but overshot and it’s kind of like a symbolism of their relationship. 
 Which is basically Bruce takes an action to stop Jason from going down a path that he thinks will end up hurting Jason, but ends up hurting Jason in the long-run.
Like when he discussed taking away robin from Jason (because he thought Jason needed time to deal with issues that were becoming more prevalent) which only ended up making Jason feel insecure about his position in the Wayne household, contributing to why he so desperately pursued a stable parental relationship in his biological mother.
Bruce knows that if he gives in and kills the Joker he'll never stop killing we've seen timelines that prove that and I think Bruce also thinks the same of Jason that if Jason kills the Joker he won't stop at all so it’s not that he’s saving the Joker but that he’s trying to save Jason but Bruce ultimately misunderstands Jason’s needs and winds up hurting him.
Bruce is trying to save Jason from what he sees as a downwards spiral, but he ends up hurting him not just emotionally, but physically, and in the most extreme way possible. It's like an even darker echo of how trying to bench him as Robin led to his death.
Bruce has spent YEARS haunted by the memory of Jason’s death his death fundamentally changed Bruce's entire character Alfred said that Jason's death affected Bruce more than his own parents death.
In Underworld Unleashed it's revealed that his greatest desire is to have Jason back, in Hush he talks about how he wanted to put Jason in the Lazarus Pit and how he believes Jason knew he always loved him, and in As The Crow Flies we learn that his greatest fear is Jason coming back as an enemy and then in Under the Red Hood he gets Jason back (his greatest desire) but as an antagonist (his greatest fear) and moreover his belief that Jason 'knew' he loved him is WRONG.
Jason's insecurities from before his death combined with the perceived betrayal of Bruce not avenging him have led Jason to the point where he genuinely believes Bruce doesn't care, and in Jason's eyes, killing the joker is the only way Bruce can prove that he does but instead, in that moment, Bruce's attempt to diffuse the situation backfires.
Bruce misunderstands what Jason needs in that moment like he misunderstood what Jason needed at the start of Death in the Family it's just the ultimate representation of their constant emotional feedback loop. They trap themselves in a cycle of fighting because Jason can't read how Bruce really feels and Bruce can't read what Jason really needs and in that moment both those things are true, with Jason not seeing that Bruce truly cares anymore, and Bruce not knowing how to properly deescalate the situation and show Jason that he still cares.
It's extremely easy to read the batatrang throw as purposeful even though I wholly believe it was accidental but if that moment was explored more, I'm positive that Jason would believe it wasn't an accident, and would view it as proof of his already held view that Bruce doesn't love him anymore after all, that could have killed him, symbolically disowning him in the most extreme way possible.
Heck in Jason's appearance in Green Arrow (2001) Bruce had thought Jason might have died again! Before Jason turned up to mess with Mia.
The thing that's tragic about Jason that actually leads to a lot of his own suffering is that Jason doesn't really know what a healthy relationship looks like so I'm not sure when his actual 'last straw' would be.
Jason is the kind of person who sees love and acceptance as entirely circumstantial. He believes he must /earn/ love and acceptance, i.e. by being Robin, rather than it being inherently given.
A huge piece of understanding Robin Jason is understanding how much he lacked proper support systems back then. School was his only connection to his kids his age, and he didn't benefit much from that connection, his life was essentially: manor, school, Robin, repeat.
Jason loved school, but his school life was also pretty depressing. Jason kept to himself, he didn't have the time to participate in extracurriculars even when he wanted to and his peers didn't view him very positively. Jason was also really isolated from the rest of the hero community, there was his stint with the Titans, but it was pretty brief. He was also penpals with Kid Devil, but for the most part, he just had Batman.
The lack of support is actually one of the reasons I give for Jason and Steph dying in universe since they were the two Robins without support systems outside of Gotham. When Bruce was a jerk Dick and Tim could be like 'fine I'm going to go hang out with the Teen Titans or Young Justice' but Jason and Steph could only be like 'oh no' plus Bruce would deliberately try to take away Steph's support systems that she did have multiple times like when he ordered Cass to stop training with Steph.
But that's besides the point, I wouldn't be surprised if Jason confused being Robin with being accepted in the manor so when Bruce threatened to take away Robin from him, he might've seen it as his only proper support system being taken away from him, his world felt rocked back into instability once again.
When you look at it like that, it's very easy to understand why Jason sought out his biological mother. He had a hope that Sheila would offer him that stability once more, and that he'd get support and trust and unconditional love.
And that’s what make it all the more heartbreaking to me he came to this woman seeking love and gave her his greatest secret and she repaid him with a horrific death.  Jason’s death is one of the saddest to me because there’s no high stakes 'he died saving the world stuff' he’s just a kid who wanted a mom and got killed for it.
DC’s habit of taking away who he was is so detrimental to his backstory as the Red Hood because the transformation from someone who tried being kind and who did give it their all being killed for it and coming back like ‘no more’ is so much more interesting than ‘we always knew this would happen’.
Robin disobeying orders is nothing new. If that was the core of why Jason died, then any Robin disobeying orders should never be put in a positive light, but often it is. Jason (and Steph) were just the ones unlucky enough to emerge dead and judged for it instead of alive and praised for it.
Jason died because he was a child who just wanted to be safe and loved.
So many times Robin disobeying orders saved lives it’s nothing new and Jason had a pretty solid reason, the story of Jason Todd should be portrayed as the tragedy not make him some warning sign.
This is why I always hated the victim blaming after Jason & Steph's deaths because they died doing what if it had been Tim or Dick a Robin would be praised for, like take Steph for example we've seen constant stories of Bruce firing Robin, them going off on their own & Bruce realising he's wrong & taking them back but when Steph goes off on her own she dies the only reason Jason & Steph died is that the writers forced them to fail where they would have allowed the others to succeed.
But anyway back to my point the thing about Jason feeling like he had to earn love is why he was initially so hung up on the idea of Bruce 'replacing' him when he came back to life, he viewed Tim being robin as Bruce /transferring/ his love for Jason to another person, rather than seeing that Bruce could love Tim while still loving and missing him.
The reason Jason sought out his mother after Bruce benched him as Robin was that he viewed Bruce benching him as Bruce rejecting him and latched onto the idea of finding someone, i.e. a birth mother, who is supposed to give /unconditional love/.
The fact that his birth mother REJECTED HIM and then played a hand in his murder undoubtedly affected his attitude when he came back, if even his mother didn't want him, and then Bruce let the joker live and replaced him, then, in Jason's eyes, OF COURSE Bruce doesn't care and as mentioned previously Jason didn't really have any friends in school or the hero community, believing that the only real close personal connection in your live, someone you spent all your time with, had forgotten about you and rejected you is bound to mess a person up.
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heyitsani · 3 years
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A Dream Ripping at the Seams
@damianwayneweek fic Reverse Robins
Word Count: 5024
Rating: Teen and up
Warnings: Referenced past child abuse, canonical character death mentioned
Pairing: None
Summary: He had planned the whole thing out.  The moment he had seen the notes in Richard’s file on the computer, he had known he needed to get him out of there and away from Batman as soon as possible.  He refused to lose another brother.  
Saving Richard because he failed to save Todd was his only priority.
Notes: Guess what! IT’S MY BIRTHDAY! And it also happens to be Reverse Robins day for Damian Wayne week!  So to celebrate, I wrote this fic to give to all of you lovely people.  But especially those in the RR Discord who are always willing to encourage me to run with an idea that comes up last minute.
Also, this fic ends abruptly and that’s the point.  I might continue it, I might not.  But it’s supposed to feel sudden and full of questions.
To clear up confusion: Dick was 10 when adopted, Jason died when he was 15 and Dick 11, Dick is 12 (nearly 13) when the story starts, and 13 when it ends.
You can also read it on AO3 here
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Damian waited until he had the opportunity to get Richard away from the manor for the afternoon before he approached the subject with the boy.  He hadn’t been certain he would need to, at first, but the longer Richard was in the house with his father the more he saw the signs he had seen with Jason. And that meant he needed to act.
So he had asked Richard if he wanted Damian to pick him up from school one Friday in February so they could go for ice cream before dinner.  Richard had, unsurprisingly, agreed enthusiastically like Damian had known he would.  With the kid’s sweet tooth, he never turned down things like ice cream.  Especially since it wasn’t something the circus really got much of apparently.  Traveling in trailers didn’t allow for too many luxuries like freezers.
“Richard,” Damian started once they were seated on a bench in a local park, not far from a playground that the child was eyeing.  When the sapphire eyes turned on him, Damian took a deep breath and looked directly at him. “I know you have figured out what Father and the rest of us do in the night.”  Richard nodded, smiling as he licked his cone.  “Has Father approached you about training yet?”
The boy nodded again, and Damian pressed his lips together.  Twelve years old.  Twelve.  None of them had been that young outside of himself, but his situation was different. Being born into the League of Assassins made for a different upbringing.  “Is that bad?”
Shaking his head, Damian made sure his face was neutral before speaking again.  “No, but I have concerns.”  The boy blinked at him, but remained silent as though he was waiting for his brother to tell him what it was he was concerned about.  “You do not know of my childhood, but it was far from…pleasant. I was raised in a place called Nanda Parbat that trains people to be the kind of people Batman fights against.”
“But you were a kid?” Richard sounded confused; ice cream forgotten as he tried to sort through what Damian was saying.  And what he wasn’t saying.  “Why would you train a kid like that?”
“Because that was the way things were done there.”
“Then they were done wrong.”
Damian let out a soft laugh, corner of his mouth raising just slightly at the thought of this twelve-year-old child telling him that he had been raised wrong.  “Be that as it may, you are correct that I was a kid and that should not have been my childhood.”
Richard hummed and went back to his ice cream, looking out at a pair of dogs playing in the grass. Damian observed him as he watched the dogs, wondering what he was thinking.  He wasn’t sure how to ask the boy to do what exactly he was thinking, but he just hoped Richard would go along with it.  That he would agree to leave because this was not the life he should be living.
“Dami?”  Richard looked back to him, and Damian raised his eyebrows.  “You don’t want me to train with Batman.”  Damian shook his head.  “Ever?”
And wasn’t that the real question?
Damian wasn’t sure if he wanted Richard, the purest of them all, to be exposed to how ugly the world was the same way the rest of them had been.  It would ruin him.  It would steal the innocence that Damian found himself desperately wanting to protect. It would tear out everything good in him and leave him a shell.  
“Never,” he admitted quietly.  Richard dropped his gaze again and chewed on his lower lip.  “I want you to understand why.  My childhood aside, I do not want to see what happened to Todd happen to you. I do not want you to lose yourself the way I have seen Drake do.  I do not want you to realize the ugly truths of the world long before your time the way Cain or Brown have.  I want to protect you from all of that.”
With brows drawn down, Richard looked at him again.  He was looking at Damian with that look, the one he had seen Cain look at him with too many times to count.  The look that penetrated all the walls and shields he had put around his mind and heart.
“You want me to leave.”
“I want to take you away from here and hide us both until you are able to stand your own against Father on the subject,” he quickly corrected, not wanting Richard to think he wasn’t welcome in the Wayne family.  “I want to protect you from a fate I wish we all could have been protected from.”
Richard took a lick of his ice cream and Damian waited, worried the boy would tell him no and then tell his father everything Damian had planned.  “Okay.”
“Okay?”
Richard nodded.  “Okay.”
And Damian released his held breath, relief washing over him.  He could save one of them, the best of them.  He could do one right thing in his life, a life filled with so many wrong things.
“We leave in a week.” Richard’s eyes turned determined, and he gave a firm nod before looking over toward the playground again.
“Can I play after my ice cream is finished?”  Damian laughed and nodded, too relieved to deny him anything.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Who is she?”  Richard asked, tugging on the black chuba Damian had selected for himself the moment they had touched down in Tibet.  The weather was fairly cool, and he hadn’t thought to purchase the proper wears before he had put his plan into motion. But thankfully he had anticipated needing to switch enough money into Yuan to get them by for the first couple of months.  It had made purchasing weather friendly clothing for himself and Richard much easier.
Looking down at Richard, Damian frowned and followed his eyeline to the familiar statue that stood at the top of the mountain, guarding over Nanda Parbat.  “She is Ruma Kushna,” he told Richard, who couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from the beautiful stone statue.  He couldn’t blame the kid, he had been fascinated with the goddess when he had been younger.  She had been formidable and even his grandfather had spoken highly of the goddess. “She watches over all of those in Nanda Parbat.”
Richard frowned and looked away from the statue, blue eyes skittering over the various people wandering around the market they were making their way through in an attempt to find lodging.  “She is not kind then,” the boy said, looking up at Damian with a fierce look.
“What makes you say that?”
Richard shrugged and looked away, curiosity stealing the boy’s attention once more.  But Damian couldn’t forget that look for stubborn protectiveness that had covered Richard’s face in the moment.  It had been breathtaking if he were honest.  He couldn’t remember the last time someone had looked at him like that when they weren’t preparing to fight him for one reason or another.
Pausing at a stall with various spices that smelled familiar and distant at the same time, Damian gave the older woman a friendly smile.  “Tashi delek,” he greeted her, giving a small bow of his head.  “My son and I are looking for lodging, do you know of anyone with vacancies in their home that would spare space for us?  We are willing to pay.”
The woman seemed to consider him closely, glancing from him to Richard and then back again.  He knew his excuse of Richard being his son was flimsy when someone considered their age difference, but it was the story he needed to stick to for the time being.  He couldn’t risk someone looking too deeply into their relation if they thought they were merely brothers.  And Damian would be drawn and quartered before someone took Richard from him and returned him to Bruce.
“I have a spare sleeping quarter if you could spare your strength,” the woman finally replied, kindness heavy in her old eyes.
“Tuchi che!”  Richard exclaimed, smiling brightly at the woman who almost looked surprised at his enthusiasm.  Damian struggled to hold back a smile of his own as he gave the woman a firm nod, silently agreeing to her terms.
“I am Damian and this is Richard.  We are grateful for your hospitality.”  The woman chuckled and waved them off, telling them to scout the market for anything they might need since their packs were small and probably did not hold much out of the bare necessities.  “What should we call you?”
The woman’s smile warmed, and she leaned back.  “I am Amala,” she responded.  “Now go find you both some clothing that is not of the city but of the mountain.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“You are al Ghul,” Amala stated as she handed over the cup of tea.  Damian froze, eyes wide as he looked at the woman who still looked at him with that same kindness she had since that first meeting almost four months ago.  But he couldn’t figure out how she could possibly look at him that way if she knew who his family was.  “The League is well known in our village, as small as we may be.  They look after their own on the mountain.  But there were whispers of the Heir refusing to return and the Demon Head demanding justice.”
Looking down at his teacup, cradled in both hands to warm his palms from the cool night air coming in from under the door, he sighed before glancing back toward the corner where Richard was sleeping.  Confirming Amala’s words would put them both in danger of being discovered.  He had picked this village because it meant they were right under his grandfather and mother’s noses.  They would never look for him here.
But if he lied, he risked having to run with Richard again.  And the child was finally settling nicely in the village.  He had made friends with some of the other children and he was catching up on his studies.  The last thing Damian wanted to do was uproot him yet again.  His life had been disrupted enough since the death of his parents.
“I am he,” Damian admitted, looking back to Amala.  The woman smiled knowingly before pressing a finger to her lips in a ‘shhhh’ motion and Damian let out a sigh of relief.  “How did you figure it out?”
The woman shrugged.  “You have your mother’s eyes,” she said, as if that was enough to give it all away.  “And your mother used to bring you down here as a babe, just learning to walk the mountain.  I recognized you the moment you approached my stall at market.”
“Has anyone else?”
“Not that I have heard.”
But that didn’t mean they hadn’t.  If someone told his mother or even one of the footmen, Damian would need to pick Richard up and run.  He wouldn’t have a choice.  He probably should do it now before anyone had the chance to come after them.
“Thank you, for trusting us then.”
Amala waved a hand.  “I could see in your eyes that you were running from something.  That you were protecting your son from something.”  Damian held back the cringe at the word son, knowing she had to have figured out that Richard wasn’t his.  “You are safe in my home.  I will not bring harm upon you.  No matter if it is from up the mountain or from far away.”
Damian swallowed, bowing his head against the onslaught of emotion that hit him from her words.  “Thank you,” he whispered, unable to look at her just yet.  “Protecting him is all I am after.”  He looked over at Richard again and blinked away the tears.  “It is my only goal.”
“And that is what makes you a good father,” she said softly, “blood or not.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Baba!”  Richard called out; voice distorted as it came into the house from outside where he had been helping plant some new seedlings.  “Dami!”  That made Damian pause.  It had been a while since Richard had called him by his name, out of habit or fear Damian couldn’t be sure which.  But it made a small sense of panic arise in his chest and had him dropping the piece he had been sketching and immediately run out the front door.
He froze when he saw a man kneeling in front of Richard, black cloak and hood pulled over his head, hiding his face from Damian but not from Richard.  But when the man looked up, Damian felt his stomach drop.
“No,” he whispered, hurrying forward and pushing Richard behind him as he glared at Timothy Drake, his father’s second eldest but first adopted child.  “You are not welcome here, Drake,” he said lowly, English rusty from lack of use since coming to Tibet.
Drake held up his hands and took a step back, but Damian held tighter onto Richard who tried to move out from behind his legs.  “I am not here to cause trouble, Damian,” Drake offered.  And Damian knew him well enough to know the man was being honest.  But it didn’t mean he could let his guard down. “He doesn’t know I’m here.  He doesn’t know I found you.”
“Trackers.”
“Rerouted.”
Taking a deep breath, Damian glanced around before giving Drake a nod and herding Richard into the house, knowing Drake would following them.  “Richard, go work on your schooling.”  Richard looked up at him, frowning at the order, before glancing over at Drake.  “Now, Richard.”  And though Damian knew the child didn’t want to, Richard walked away with a pout to the table where his schoolwork sat waiting.  “How did you find us?”  
“It wasn’t easy, you covered your tracks better than any of us expected,” Drake said, eyes watching Richard as he took his seat and began writing in the notebook.  Damian could tell he was curious, but Damian needed answers before Drake got his own.  “I looked at footage we had searched through a million times and got lucky.”
“And Father doesn’t know? I’m meant to believe you simply didn’t tell him?  You?”
“He thinks I’m off world with the Titans.”
“That doesn’t answer why you didn’t tell him.”
Drake seemed to consider his answer for a moment before shrugging both his shoulders.  “Dick didn’t seem to be in distress in the footage I found. He looked like he wanted to be with you.”
“I explained it to him before we left.  He agreed to come with me on his own.”
“Why did you take him?”
A familiar anger built in his core and Damian had to push it down with a few deep breaths before he could answer Drake without yelling.  “Because I would not let him sacrifice Richard the same way he sacrificed all of us. Because since losing Todd, he has lost sight of the true mission and we have become nothing but soldiers to him. I would die before I let that man turn Richard another glass case bearing a bloodied suit of armor,” he growled, fists clenched tightly.  
Drake watched him with those eyes, the ones Damian had always hated because it always felt like he was a risk and Drake was calculating how dangerous he was in any given moment.  As if Drake was just like his father, with a file of ways to put an end to Damian because part of him was too dangerous to be trusted.
“Your secret is safe with me,” Drake finally said, looking back to Richard with a nod.  “I didn’t believe you could have taken him for anything other than his own good.”  The cool blue eyes looked back to Damian and had lost some of the calculating look.  “B won’t stop though, Damian.  He’s desperate to find you both even though it’s been over six months.  I don’t know how long until he realizes that you hid both of you in plain sight of the League.  Does Ra’s or Talia know you’re here?”
“Not that they have revealed to me,” Damian admitted.  “Our patron, she knows of my heritage and has sworn an oath of secrecy.  But she is League loyal due to their protection.”
Damian watched Drake fully take in the appearance of the home they were in, the simple nature of it all and Damian couldn’t help but wonder what the man thought of him now.  What did he think of the haughty Wayne heir who had loved to shove that fact in every ones faces, telling them that he was the heir to one of the richest men in the world.  That he was heir to Batman, the Dark Knight.  The Damian standing in front of Drake was far from that person as Damian could probably get.
“This has not only saved him,” Drake finally said, looking directly at Damian.  There was no lie that Damian could see and though he wanted to deny what his brother said, his eyes glanced over to Richard and knew it was the truth. He was not who he had been before they had left Gotham.  He had been losing himself in his own grief and it was only the deep seeded fear of losing yet another family member that forced him to pull out of it and take action.
But he couldn’t admit that to Drake, could he?  “I wouldn’t lose him the way we lost Todd.  I did what I had to do.  He never would have listened.”
“No, he wouldn’t have.”
“And has anything changed?” Drake frowned; eyebrows furrowed. And that was enough of an answer for Damian.  “He’s just become obsessed with finding us instead.”
Drake nodded.  “It’s been bad enough that Superman watches Gotham from afar to keep B from doing something he might regret.”  And Damian knew, yet again, that he had made the right choice in getting Richard away from that.  “Can I give you a burner that only I know about?”  Damian’s eyes snapped back to Drake, having drifted back to Richard yet again.  “I want to be able to give you a heads up if he comes your way.  It might not be much of one, but maybe enough for you to get a head start.”
It wasn’t a bad idea, having that option, but Damian also knew it might give his father access to the pair of them without Drake even knowing.  But Drake did know technology more than anyone else in the family. Perhaps it was a risk he could take.
“All right,” Damian relented, giving a nod.  Drake’s features looked relieved, to the point where Damian wondered if he had made the wrong decision.  But he could work on the device later and see if it had been bugged or tampered with in any way.
Drake dug into his small pack and pulled out a small phone, probably a prototype that Wayne Tech had decided wasn’t worth the trouble.  He quickly showed Damian how to turn it on and use the basic features before it was turned off yet again and Damian was tucking it into the pocket of his pants.
“I need to go, I can’t reroute much longer.  But if you need anything, please call me.  I have your back.”  Damian gave a nod before watching Drake walk over to Richard and kneel down to talk quietly with the teen.  He didn’t bother listening in, knowing Richard would tell him what was said later, but he did watch.  He watched Richard listen and nod, responding with his own words before reaching out and hugging the man around the neck.  
When Drake stood and turned to leave, Damian was fairly certain he saw a sheen of tears in his eyes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Damian knew something was different the instant he walked into the small house, even if he couldn’t immediately tell what.  It caused him to stop short in the doorway, Richard smacking into him because he had been too absorbed in the book of mathematics one of the men of the village had shared with him.
“Baba, what…?”  The child complained but Damian’s eyes focused on the figure in the corner of the room instead, not answering.
“Mother.”
The woman moved forward, like a serpent seeking prey, into the light with a smirk on her face.  “Son,” she greeted, eyes looking over his ragged appearance from his day of labor with a hint of distain before stopping on Richard. “You really do have too much of your father in you.”
Rolling his eyes, Damian shuffled Richard into the house and nudged him toward their sleeping corner. And though he didn’t think his mother meant them harm, he still kept his body between the two of them and coiled his muscles to prepare for a fight.
“What are you doing here? How did you even know?”
“Oh please, Damian,” Talia sighed and came closer before lounging in one of the chairs near the fireplace.  “Do you honestly think we weren’t aware the moment you landed in Tibet?  That we weren’t tracking you from the very start? You have forgotten your roots.”
Damian narrowed his eyes. “Then why did you wait so long to approach me?”
“Because we did not need you.”  That made Damian tense further.  The League needing him would lead to nothing good, he knew that deep in his core.  “I have something in Nanda Parbat that requires your attention before it can be dealt with.  And no,” she held up a hand to stop his question, “it is not your father. But it does have a link to him.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Damian couldn’t believe what he was seeing.  He couldn’t trust his own eyes in that moment.  It wasn’t possible.  Was it? No, he had seen the body.  He had been there as the coffin had been lowered into the plot and covered with dirt.  He had laid his hand on the tombstone and apologized for not being able to get to him in time.
But that was definitely Jason Todd in front of him.
“How is this possible?”  Damian asked, glad he had put Richard in his old rooms while he handled this.  Richard had known Todd for only a year before he had died. This was not something Damian wanted to expose the teen to before he knew what the point of all of this was.
“We are not certain. We can’t even say how long he has been like this.  He has been dead for nearly 18 months and we have had him here for the past six.” Damian frowned, walking closer to Todd, trying to catch the teen’s eye.  “He is alive and everything is in working order, but it is as though death stole his soul.”
“Of course it did!  He died!”  Damian snapped, looking back at his mother who stood a ways back watching but looked bored.  “We buried him.  We…” Breathing heavily through his nose, Damian looked back to Todd and shook his head.  They had mourned him.  And now he was there, living and breathing but lifeless.  Everything that had made him Jason Todd seemed to have been stripped away.  “What do you intend to do with him?”
His mother’s heels clicked on the marble floor as she moved closer and stopped once she reached the pair. He watched a slender hand reach out and pet the side of Jason’s face.  Annoyed, Damian’s hand shot out and grabbed his mother’s wrist to stop the obscene gesture.  “What do you intend to do with him,” he growled, gripping her wrist tightly and turning to fully face her.  He narrowed his eyes and stared her down, not willing to let her brush him off.  She had brought him here for a reason.
“We will put him in the Pit, of course,” she said, unaffected by the grip he had on her or the look on his face.  “We just wanted to see if a familiar face might wake him up first.”
“Mother,” Damian gasped, releasing her and stepping back.  “We do not put innocents in the Pit.  It is not done.”
Talia raised a brow and Damian glowered.  “There is no ‘we’, Damian.  You made your choice.”
“You cannot do that to him. He had anger before his death.  He was murdered brutally.  These are all things the League has always avoided in resurrections.”  Damian looked over at Jason’s empty eyes and frowned, shaking his head.  “You cannot sentence him to that Madness.  He is a child.”
“He is no more a child than any of you were.  My Beloved has only had one true child in his home and you stole him away in fear of him turning your precious Richard into the same monster each of you fight off daily.” Talia tilted her head, considering him. “You most of all, my son.”
“You created the monster long before he got his hands on it.”
A slender shoulder rose and fell gracefully.  “Perhaps, but you have Demon blood in your veins and you have always been destined for so much more than this charade of a life you have taken up.”
Damian clenched his jaw and looked away from his mother, unable to deny her words.  He knew this farce he and Richard had been living would not sustain them forever, but he knew it was what the teen needed at the moment. If he returned Richard to Gotham, his father would rip the child away from him and Damian would lose him to the fight he desperately wanted to protect Richard from.  The Bat would get into his head and Damian would lose.
No, returning to Gotham would never be an option until Richard was old enough to stand on his own.
“You could remain here. Take up your title again and we could train and teach the boy to be the very best.”  Damian immediately shook his head.  That wasn’t any better than the fate that awaited them in Gotham.  “It is only a matter of time before he finds you. He will exhaust all resources and then call upon me.  He will come to Nanda Parbat and hear the tinkling laughter that reminds him so much of the boy his own son had stolen away from him.  He will follow the sound to a yard where a teen with black hair and sapphire eyes kneels in the dirt, pulling weeds from around the plants that have just begun to sprout.
“He will watch in wonder at the change a year, perhaps two years, has made in the boy.  And then he will see the man who is responsible for the heartache and fear he experienced over that time, standing in the window watching the teen just as he had been.  And he will take him back.  He will threaten them both with everything in his itinerary until there is no choice but to return.”
“And then he will ruin him,” Damian whispered, closing his eyes because he knew his mother was right. It was the fear that kept him up each and every night.  His father would never stop searching and he would eventually get desperate enough to turn to Ra’s for help.  And he would come himself to plead his case because otherwise Ra’s would laugh in his face and behead whoever was foolish enough to come in his stead.
Opening his eyes, he stared into the familiar one watching him closely.  “You win.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Damian hated that his mother insisted on Richard being in the room with them when Todd was placed in the Pit, but he wasn’t in any position to argue.  He just hoped that nothing happened that would require him to use the sword strapped to his back in order to keep Richard safe.  The last thing he wanted was for the teen to see that side of him, the side that would require him to take up arms against another of his brothers.
But Richard stood just behind him, stubborn look on his face as he watched Todd over near the Pit. The green glow of the waters within gave the room an ethrial look but made Jason look sickly.  With that blank look on his face, Damian felt his heart ache for the boy he remembered.  He had tried harder with Todd than he had with Drake, but it didn’t mean he was the best of brothers.  He hoped the teen knew he had tried.
But emotions had never been his forte.
Thankfully, he was doing even better with Richard than he had with any of the others.  The teen had taught him much more than he ever thought possibly while he had taught the boy what little he had to offer outside of self-defense. Which, he had taught him as well. Just not to the same effect that training to be a Cape would have done.
“Are you ready to witness true magic, Richard?”  Damian frowned over at his mother when she entered the room and moved over to stand with the two of them.  He looked back and down toward the teen, who he found watching his mother with narrowed, untrusting eyes.  Good boy.
Damian had made sure that he always questioned his surroundings and stayed wary of those he didn’t know. Apparently, Talia al Ghul fell in that category.
The woman simply quirked an eyebrow at him before she walked over to where the footmen were getting ready to move Todd to the platform.  Reaching out, Damian tugged Richard closer to him in hopes to shield him from the coming disaster.  His mother might be certain this was a good idea, surely for her own gain, but he knew this was not something that should be done.  But as good of a fighter Damian was, he could not take on the entire League. And he would need to do just that if he wanted to get Todd out of there before he was manipulated and twisted into a shadow of the teen he had been.
“Let us begin,” Ra’s said as he took his place on the opposite side of the Pit.
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peppersonironi · 3 years
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Duke Thomas VS The "Good Child" Stereotype Chapter Three
Wooo! Chapter Two (not including the prologue) is up now for my @dukethomasbigbang fic! Today's art is by @a-sketchy-character and you can find the glorious piece HERE
thx again to my betas @queerbutstillhere & @theycallme-ook
Today has a special thanks to @batgirls-appreciation who dropped out as a beta, but this chapter couldn't exist without her!
Summary:
Duke pursed his lips, not quite sure why Cass had come down to the basement, only to look into his soul, shrug, and leave. But that didn’t matter right now. As Bruce would say, “The mission comes first.”
Read on Ao3
Duke frowned down at his empty pad of paper, trying to brainstorm. It had been a mere twelve hours since the failed Rick Roll (though, the Rick Roll itself wasn’t a fail. Duke would be daydreaming about the chaos for years to come), and the day shift bat was itching for a way to make up for it.
Alas, the creative juices were not flowing that day. Duke had tried everything - taking a walk, training, meditation, writer’s sprint, and even resorting to watching prank compilations on YouTube. But nothing worked. So, he found himself watching the target Bat - Bruce - in his “natural habitat.”
Also known as the living room, mid lecture.
“But I don’t know what I did!” Tim pleaded desperately, trying to convey to Bruce his confusion.
Bruce shook his head. “No, you do, Tim. Dick told me you all will appeal to my affection to get out of the consequences for your actions -” wow, Duke remembered Dick using that exact tactic just yesterday, and it worked - “So I will not allow you to shirk the punishment.”
Tim groaned. “This is tyranny! I’m an emancipated minor, I don’t need to deal with this.”
“Actually, yes you do. You will be doing chores for Alfred for the next two weeks, and you aren’t allowed to run off to Mount Justice.”
“Then at least tell me what I did wrong!” Tim cried, throwing his hands up in the air. Bruce rubbed his temples, then glanced briefly at Duke.
“You know what you did, and how it affected those around you. And you’re grounded because of it. No room for arguments. Now go work on the sprinklers, Alfred has mentioned they’ve been finicky.”
Tim scoffed and stalked out, soon after followed by Bruce.
Duke considered relocating as well - he couldn’t very well observe Bruce if said wild furry wasn’t present. But something about that conversation that sent a light shiver up Duke’s spine, some small spark of inspiration.
An idea began to form in his mind, and Duke smiled slowly.
*****
“For all Bruce’s waxing poetic on the merits of high tech stuff, this pipe organization is seriously ancient,” Duke muttered under his breath as he glanced from the blueprints he had secured to the mess of pipes and spigots and nozzles in front of him.
Though to be fair, this wasn’t the Batcave. Duke was in the basement of Wayne Manor - yes, he was just as surprised to find they actually had one of those that wasn’t dedicated to the dark and mystique training of Gotham’s Protectors. And impromptu Mario Kart challenges, because as Tim had once told Duke “We all know that’s the real reason Bruce got a giant computer setup.”
Duke cursed softly under his breath when he dropped a wrench that began to clang around in the messy cage of metal. He set the blueprints aside atop the gallons of paint he had chosen, and reached around and down to get the wrench. When he came back up, he found himself face to face with his sister Cassandra.
Oh shit, Duke thought, as he tried to figure out how to cover for what he was doing in the plumbing of the Manor.
Cass squinted at him and, not for the first time, Duke felt like he was an onion trapped beneath her gaze, slowly being peeled back layer by layer till the young woman before him knew every little detail about him. Every thought or plan he ever had.
Duke began to sweat, unable to keep his panic under wraps. Cass was scarier than Bruce, that was just a fact.
Cass tilted her head a fraction of an inch, and Duke thought he was a dead man. But, much to his relief and confusion, Cass shrugged and turned. She walked lightheartedly out of the basement and to the stairs, whistling tunelessly as she went.
Duke pursed his lips, not quite sure why Cass had come down to the basement, only to look into his soul, shrug, and leave.
But that didn’t matter right now. As Bruce would say, “The mission comes first.”
*****
As all members of the Wayne family knew, the Library was one of the best places, period. Aside from the living room which was always a mess of pillows, bean bags, inflatable dinosaurs, spare semi-automatic weaponry and knives, the Library was the most personal room in the expansive home that was the Manor. Sure, it was cleaner and home to fewer surprise nerf gun fights, but It still had an air of warmth about it. It was the place that they would go to to rest after a difficult patrol. Where you could find Jason reading some book in a corner, Tim busy with WE work at the large table, Damian trying to teach Alfred the Cat and Titus to read picture books, Cass and Steph trying to be subtle about making out (though to be fair that was only half the time, other times Cass was working on reading with Steph helpfully giving her guidance). Dick would always be trying to decide what to read and but he would never actually succeed, Bruce would sit in his tall armchair in the corner overlooking every small detail of his children with a not-quick-smile-but-pretty-darn-close on his face.
Duke himself also had his own spot that he would work on writing poetry, or just surf Tumblr. It was a window seat at the far side of the library which was technically big enough for three people, but Duke had a strict policy that it was his and his alone and no he totally wasn’t bullied by Cass that one time to snuggle. Why on Earth would you ever consider such a thing?
It was in this spot now that Duke was situated, though he was not alone. Titus - yes, Damian’s dog - was draped across his lap. Now, Duke didn’t mean to steal his little brother’s pets, but it just happened. Titus was in need of snuggles or belly rubs when Damian was away with Jon or on patrol at night, and Duke just happened to be the only one that said canine could bully into granting him.
Thankfully, like all bats were, Duke was a multi-tasker. He wasn’t put off by having to scratch a dog behind the ears whilst simultaneously checking the twelve blinking dots on his laptop screen that represented his family members.
Duke stared intensely at the diagram of the Manor as all the dots slowed down and finally stayed in their predetermined positions. Huh, Tim was right. Stalking family members did pay off!
The dots suddenly stopped blinking, and Duke snapped out of his self congratulations. It was go time . He switched windows, then quickly pulled out his phone and pressed a button.
There were several screams that echoed throughout the ancient halls, those screams spoke of terror and surprise, and passed along the message that something was very, very wrong in the world. The status quo had been broken, and there was no returning from this.
Duke smirked down at his computer, where a dozen different squares displayed camera footage of the real time happenings of the Manor. Said footage was showing several members of Duke’s family drenched in paint. The same paint that Duke had meticulously divided and poured into the ceiling sprinkling system that the Manor had for some totally-not-plot-related reason. The same paint which had been primed and ready to be sprayed out of the spigots coating each bat with the perfectly calculated, even layer.
The paint had just finished being deployed, and yet several people were for some reason trying to fight it off like it was an attacker. Duke noticed that the swinging of bo staffs, AK-47’s and katanas were altogether unsuccessful. Honestly, the people who were standing completely still in shock, or who were trying to shake off the paint were having much better luck.
But then everyone finally realised that they weren’t being sprayed anymore, and a collective sigh spread out across the Manor. The onslaught was done, and they could finally gather together and grab the pitchforks to hunt down the responsible party.
It was then that the glitter was deployed.
The chaos immediately multiplied tenfold, and the screams sounded up again. The air was filled with the sparkly dust that was way too thin to swat away. (No, Duke totally didn’t spend extra time researching to find the world’s finest glitter)
Duke was outright laughing at this point, so hard that he almost fell off the window seat. Titus barked suddenly, and Duke sobered enough to get back upright and watch the finishing up of the chaos. He had to admit, this felt wonderful. If he had to describe his current state of thrill in two words, he would have admitted that he felt altogether too close to the Hellmo Meme.
Unfortunately, Duke was not Stephanie, and ran out of glitter eventually. The vents stopped blasting the film of fairy dust, and the bats were given a reprieve.
Though the break was short lived, as just then, Bruce’s loud bellow sounded throughout the giant house.
“ALL OF YOU GET IN HERE!”
Duke chuckled as he scooched Titus over and set his laptop to the side so he could get up. This was all working perfectly! He’d arrive at Bruce's interrogation completely free from all paint or glitter, which would immediately prove his guilt. And if that didn’t work, then he supposed he could outright confess. But that wasn’t the point of this. The point was for Bruce to come to the conclusion on his own.
He walked down the hall, completely carefree. So happy and confident in his own abilities that he never even noticed that Cassandra’s paint or glitter didn’t go off. That she wasn’t even present where the tracker he had subtly placed on her earlier that day said she was.
*****
Duke hummed to himself as he skipped along the carpet, past the antique vases and random finger paintings, past the drawing rooms and bathrooms, and towards Bruce. All was quiet.
Though that began to trouble Duke, as he got closer to one of the rooms which was very special. It was where Cass had been situated, playing with Selina’s cat Isis, for the past hour. Now, Cassandra was quiet, sure. But not that quiet. And besides, wouldn’t the cat be screeching right about now? Cass didn’t seem like the person to give a nerve hit to an animal just because it was being loud ( cough Jason cough ).
He slowly entered the room and looked around, but was surprised to find it completely empty. Not just of girl and cat, but of paint and glitter too.
“You were mistaken.”
Duke whirled around to find Cass sitting in an armchair, wrapped in shadows, and stroking Isis in a manner not altogether different from that of an Evil Mastermind™.
“Uh…” Duke replied, “about what?”
Cass smirked, and Duke felt a shiver run up his spine. “Actions have consequences. ”
Duke frowned. Wait, what? He glanced around again, trying to figure out what Cass meant. On a surface level he understood, but there was something about the way Cass was eyeing him that told him something else was up.
The only thing he could find that was out of the ordinary, however, was the camera he had placed just yesterday. Huh, now that he thought about it, he was at just the right angle to see it. Which meant he was in direct view of the camera itself. Pretty darn to close to where he had been planning Cass would stand, actually.
Then a faint spitting noise came from above him.
Oh.
*****
Duke trudged forlornly into the room where the rest of the bats - except Cassandra, who had disappeared after the glitter had deployed onto Duke - had gathered. He was one of the last to arrive, muttering curses under his breath, so all eyes were on him as he opened the door and joined them.
Though that also meant that Duke could see them. He had to admit, that as disappointed as he was, it was still hard to keep a grin from spreading across his face. Boy, he had done a great job with color coordination, hadn’t he?
Bruce was front and center, covered in a dark gray paint which had the sheen of yellow glitter. Dick had black paint completely covering him (much more than Duke planned. Did Dick roll in the stuff?) along with blue glitter. Jason had both red paint and glitter on him. Tim had started off with a lighter colored paint - this time red - and then the look was finished by black glitter. Damian looked like a small Christmas tree in his green paint and red glitter. Harper had blue paint then covered in purple glitter, both of which were the exact shades of her hair. Duke wasn’t a monster ; he knew how to match colors.
The cousins - both honorary and actually - had also been present. Bette had been appropriately targeted with a flaming orange and gold combination. Kate had black paint and, instead of red, Duke had picked a rainbow glitter for her. From the slight glint in her eye, Duke supposed he had chosen correctly. Jean-Paul had been doused in yellow paint and red glitter, and he honestly looked like a very large and human shaped version of his sword. Luke was covered in silver paint and an electric blue glitter.
Bruce, however, didn’t give Duke a second glance, covered in yellow paint and black glitter (which had been meant for Cass, but honestly, it fit Duke quite well), though he was.
“Good, now we just have to wait for Steph,” Tim remarked, rolling his eyes.
Duke frowned. “What about Cass? She’s here too.”
Everyone gave Duke a weird look. “Uh, no she isn’t. She’s been hanging out with Selina and Babs all weekend.”
“Then your intel is wrong,” Duke countered. “She was just here! I planned on her being here!”
The silence in the room was palpable. Before, where there had been bickering and accusations, the quiet had taken over. Everyone stared at Duke with suspicion in their eyes.
Finally, Duke thought, sighing in relief.
Bruce opened his mouth about to question Duke’s statement when the doors to the room banged open.
“What’s up, Bitches? The Waffle Queen has arrived and looks as fabulous as ever!”
Duke stared, completely amazed that she actually seemed to like the purple on purple combo Duke had picked for her. Oh, yeah, now that he thought about it made perfect sense that Steph was the only one to like this.
“Wow, whoever did this really got my colors right!" Steph continued as she waltzed in and posed in front of everyone, her hip cocked and arm thrown up dramatically.
Bruce’s eyes narrowed, and he began to growl at her. “This is not funny.”
Steph pouted. “What do you mean? I sure think it is!”
Oh boy, she didn’t notice she was digging her own grave, did she? From the looks of the other bats, they shared Duke’s sentiment.
“Stephanie Brown, are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
Stephanie smirked. “Yup! I look way better than you, you old fur- hey wait! Are you blaming me ?!”
Bruce glared even harder, and Stephanie started to protest, claiming that she was but an innocent victim of these pain-filled proceedings! It was not her fault! Nor was it her fault that she happened to get colors that she liked better than everyone else.
Bruce refused to hear what she said, and told her to go get changed. “You will be cleaning up this whole mess, and no patrolling until it’s done.”
Bruce turned and stalked out, and Steph was left speechless - for once - in the hall. She backed away, seeing the angry stares from the others. The only one who didn’t seem mad at her, was Duke himself. He opened his eyes wide, conveying pity. “I’m sorry,” he mouthed silently.
Instead of being reassuring, however, Steph squinted in suspicion. Oh shit, that probably hadn’t been the best move.
Just moments after Steph left, Jason threw up his hands. “Okay, who wants to have a water gun fight to clean off?”
There were several cheers of assent, but Duke quickly made his own escape at that time. He honestly wasn’t in the mood to get splashed in the face with water. Now was not the time for fun, as the failed prank still hung over him.
Now was the time for plotting.
*****
“Okay, but why on earth do you have a fully functioning sprinkler system in every room?”
“Yeah, Bruce, even for you that’s paranoid! What caused you to think that was necessary?”
“You.”
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phantomchick · 3 years
Text
List of wips - aka struggles
Call Me A Jason Todd fic I started two years ago and still go back to poke at longingly, will the second and final chapter ever be posted? Who can know for sure.
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I tell myself that I don't need Anyone (But the truth is no one needs Me) Another Jason Todd fic I haven't completed, posted two years ago for whumptober, it was the only day of whumptober I participated in, intended to be full of Captain Atom and Jason Todd interacting during the fall out of Bludhaven getting chemo'd but he doesn't show up in the first chapter and have you ever tried to read Infinite Crisis? It's a fucking mess. With this wip I have a close to justifiable excuse in that I refuse to write without knowing the canon, and reading through all the canon that's relevant is A Task.
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The Monster in The Man A Merlin fic floating around my drafts, currently at a good bit over 5k wherein Merlin gets POSSESSED by an old enchantment gone mad. Written because a Merlin fic I read ended on a horror style cliffhanger and I couldn't handle it so I charged my way through the first 2k of a sequel and I've been adding to it ever since. Angst with a hopefully happy ending, if I ever frikking finish it.
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The Dragon Lord In the aftermath of his father's death after Merlin inherits his father's dragon lord abilities he notices some minor changes to his interactions with his friends, the thing is that Merlin is a dragon lord and unusually what he hoards is people, things might just turn out the better for it.
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Maelstrom A Naruto time travel fix it fic that wouldn't leave me alone until I got the first chapter out, ironically it has left me entirely alone since I finished the first chapter and I have no idea if inspiration for it will ever return or when that will be.
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You Don't Know Anything Long long ago in a land of asks and a time of legend @paradise-runway sent me a fic request for "one where the other Bat boys find out the circumstances of Jason's death and resurrection and their reaction?" it has been lingering in my drafts haunting me ever since, someday, someday I shall fulfill what has been promised.
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Of Curses and Covenants A longfic exploring the magical underbelly of Gotham's history, focuses on the intertwined relationship of the Wayne Family and the Zatara Family brought about by how often Waynes through the generations have ended up being cursed. I have an index of all the curses ready, the problem with this one is the plot and the story.
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Vicki Finds a Bat (temporary title) Vicki Vale stumbles upon a still alive young adult Jason Todd at a wafflehouse on the way back from snooping into Cobblepot's latest criminal schemes. Convincing the young man to go back home to his loving father might prove more of a challenge than she thinks however. (will have a happy ending if I ever fucking finish it, for now it looms in my drafts like an unhappy gargoyle)
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Hug Deficit A fic about Jason being touch starved and his family fixing it, hurt/comfort all the way, post resurrection.
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Stephanie Brown and The Mansion of Man Pain Robin Era Steph, she and Alfred have pumpkin spice lattes together, it's their thing because I say it is. Includes, Alfred raised 5 boys counting Bruce, he's not sure how to handle a little girl and Bruce trying to dad plus Steph trying her best. Would be a lot easier to write if I was any good at comedy.
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Another Time, Another Place Some twenty years or so after their death, Martha and Thomas Wayne appear in the middle of Wayne Manor's ground floor parlour room, the major problem with this? Not only are Bruce and Dick away, Alfred's on holiday in England! Which is why Jason as the eldest has been unwillingly nominated by his younger siblings to deal with the situation at hand. Martha and Thomas in this are heavily inspired by @unpretty's amazing portrayals in her fics with them.
- Queen Blackfire and the Lazarus Lord An au with Soulmate identifying marks: Jason Todd was having an okay time as de-facto leader of The Outlaws, a band of misfits and rebels with hearts of gold (or at least silver) saving the world the best they could and filling in the gaps the more straightforward heroes tended to miss while they were at it. Then he found out he was soulmates with the Alien Warrior Queen bent on declaring war on planet Earth if the Justice League didn't find her soulmate for her. Things with his friend, team mate and potential future sister in law Kori just got super awkward and the only good thing he can find about this situation is how angry (and protective? But maybe he's just imagining that) Bruce seems over the whole thing.
Side note: Kommand'r freaked out during the years Jason was 'dead' and accidentally brought peace to a huge chunk of space and intergalactic society via building up her empire after throwing herself into work to escape the grief.
- To Grasp The Hand of a Fox Naruto and Kurama travel back in time to save the world but unfortunately they land in the same moment that Kurama's just been put under a genjutsu by Madara Uchiha, Naruto has to make his way to Konoha and wake Kurama up before the villagers seal him away inside Mito. Can he save his friend in time to save them all?
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Those Winter Sundays Mcu fic. Snapshots of Tony working hard for the avengers and no one noticing. Civil War Team Iron Man.
- Salvation Rides a Solar Wind Iron Man fic in a Science fiction / Western style fic where Tony's presence is described through the eyes of the aliens he helps. Au where the war with Thanos goes very differently. The type of fic that needs like 5 multi chapter fics in a single series to truly shine, hence why I will likely never finish it.
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And We Break Away Again Jason goes back to Talia after Damian is brought back from the dead by Bruce. It's not that he begrudges his little brother his resurrection, the opposite, but he can't ignore what Bruce did to him by taking him to the magdala valley and he can't ignore what Bruce doing for Damian what he didn't do for him, (do for Dick, do for any of them besides the blood related one) means. So he decides to go back to the only person who ever seemed to understand why he wanted to avenge himself in the first place, the only person who seemed to agree that he had a right to be angry that he'd died at all, the only person he can trust to hold him together while he feels like he's falling apart that won't judge him against the heroic mold while they're at it. Not sure if this will be a oneshot or a series but we're going good Talia with this one regardless, DC's been ruining her lately but through fanfic all things are possible so fuck them.
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Fan The Flames In the aftermath of a magical fire taking hold of the Daily Planet in Metropolis, Superman is missing, can Batman and the rest of the Justice League find their friend as well as the identity of the evil arsonist before Lex Luther does it first?
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In a Whisper (In a Wish) Ichigo Kurosaki protects people, it's not just who he is, it's what he is, down to the core of his very soul. The only problem is, that a few weeks ago he sacrificed half his soul to protect the world. It aches inside where he knows something important used to be. When everyone he cares for is avoiding him and he's starting to feel more like a shadow than a person, that aches at him too and he can't help but wish, quietly, privately, painfully, to himself if no one else that things were different, that he wasn't so broken or so alone. But if wishes were fishes they'd fill a whole sea (just be careful not to whisper them within the hearing range of the Hōgyoku).
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An Honest Conversation (Is A Bitter Thing To Crave) Jason kidnaps Bruce but things don't go as Bruce expects. First of all the reason Jason was able to kidnap him was because Stephanie of all people was his insider, why would she support someone Batman knows she's only met once. And second of all the reason he's been abducted - So that Jason can drug them both with the same substance. And when Bruce asks what he's doing this for Jason only responds, "We don't trust each other enough to have a truthful conversation otherwise" and refuses to say anything more while they wait for it to kick in. What will be revealed by this forced honest encounter on both sides? -
carrying the world on thin shoulders Midoriya Izuku deserves better from literally all the adults in his life so this is part whump part hurt comfort part fix it fic that sprawls out from time to time but it's pretty bad tbh, at some point I'll probably make it neater and give it something resembling a coherent plot. Hopefully. -
Trust Issues HP fic. Harry gets dosed with a potion that's supposed to reinforce your strongest survival instinct, the person who drugged him might've intended to be helpful but said potion happened to be at extra strength and he was given what would be a normal fix for the regular version but for this one is twice the recommended amount. Great.. The biggest problem about all this - beyond his internationally wanted godfather Sirius endangering himself by hiding out in a cave near Hogsmeade against all rational advice, his best friend Ron hating him, everyone in school besides his other best friend Hermione also hating him or avoiding him and the entire Goblet of Fire problem - is that he can't bring himself to trust anyone enough to tell them what's wrong.
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Truth is Treason in the Empire of Lies A post marvel avengers story, thor pov probably, made because I like to dive into a pool of thor & loki sibling feels sometimes: Starts off as Thor regales his new human shield brothers with the story of his banishment and return to Asgard ending with Loki falling into the Void and the Avengers have some questions, questions Thor had not thought of, remarks on things that Thor doesn’t know how to explain away.  After he goes to Loki’s cell and asks him some things he becomes more and more angry despite having no one he can punch > Gets drunk and criticises Sif and The Warriors Three after they try to calm him down > mention of Loki still being underage by Aesir standards during Thor 1 seeing as Thor was being crowned due to being of age in the movie > heavy inspiration drawn from queen regnant by peaceheather. “For while the Treason I detest, the Traitor I love still.” Currently just an outline.
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Separation Split personality disorder Red Hood and Jason Todd, alternatively, Red Hood is a demon/parasite latched on to Jay. A lot of work necessary considering right now it’s currently just an idea inspired by a cool tumblr fanart.
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A Trinity of Head Wounds The dcu trinity in the aftermath of a fight against some alien invaders (or something along those lines), whump, hurt/comfort, starts with them arguing, ends with them bleeding on each other in a friendship way, whole thing should take place in a single room on the watchtower and be a oneshot so it's gotta be a short and sweet one-two gut punch with the feelings which is difficuuult.
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A Stark in The Stars an mcu fic, a really over complicated mcu fic, mostly because of Steve Roger's timeline fuckery, Tony's alive but he's not supposed to be, but so are a lot of people who were dead but aren't now you might say what with the snap and the blip. The thing is that Steve's timeline fuckery is making it so that everyone keeps getting confused between the two different timelines of events, obviously more confused the more that their characters were connected to the films/the events that were altered, the punchline of this particular fic though is that Tony's still alive and he's unaware of the timeline of events where he died. And as he's currently in space he's also unaware that everyone on Earth thinks he's dead (because why wouldn't they? he died in endgame after all). That makes this fic super tough to write because like ultimate unreliable narrator right here and not sure how to tie in the whole 'oh wait actually everyone on Earth thinks I'm dead because of the canon timelines' thing in or at what point of the story to do that at. The fuckery of it all gives me a headache. Plot is hard. Also all of that's basically background to the actual focus of most of the fic thus far which is Tony travelling around space in an Iron Man suit up until the point where it won't be background.
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Magic Chained Merlin au. When you put magic restraining cuffs on Magic himself you don't just bind him you bind all magic the world over. It is therefore, infinitely lucky that Uther Pendragon never became aware of this fact.
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A Child in The Cold bnha Midoriya deserves better also Recovery Girl and Aizawa have shit to answer for as far as I'm concerned.
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ethelphantom · 4 years
Text
Always Been The Missing Piece
This is, uh, a sequel to the Maribat Secret Santa thing I wrote for @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry because Ailelie over at Ao3 gave me a good idea in the comments for an identity reveal fic because obviously they don't know the other isn't a civilian. So. Uh. I am planning at least one more sequel after this because I was given a perfect idea for BartAdrien identity reveal on the Maribat discord server and I need to write that too. Just, don't expect it to turn as long as either of these. And seriously, you really should read this only after Like You Could Be Family, because I seriously doubt this will make much sense without, but it's not like I will be able to actually stop you so....
(Also how the hell did I get to 13k? This has got to be the longest one-shot I've ever written please help me I have a problem)
Ao3 || First part | Third part
This is Maribat -- Don’t like; don’t read.
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“I don’t think disowning him is even necessary to make him my brother, and it seems there’s a chance we might become family regardless of whether this Bruce adopts me or not.”
Tim stared at the words written permanently on his wrist, rubbing the skin as though to see if they would smudge and leave. They did not. He had never truly thought of even getting a soulmate when he was young.
(Well, obviously he’d thought about it, rather often too. It was just that he always thought he wasn’t going to get one — either because his parents didn’t have one and he would surely be just like them, and then later, once he became Robin and later Red Robin, he thought that even if it wasn’t going to be because of his parents, then he wouldn’t get a soulmate because he wasn’t going to make it alive to 18.)
But, as all things that had anything to do with Fate always did, it didn’t go as he thought. After all, Fate was never quite so simple.
As it turned out, he made it to 18 and got a soulmark.
There was someone in the world Fate thought was the perfect match for him.
Then he for the longest time believed he would meet them while he was in the vigilante business because if his soulmate was a civilian, what would he even do? There was always a high chance of death because of what he did on a nightly basis, and it was certain he would have to disappear on multiple nights and occasions just to be Red Robin — no way he was going to give that up. That meant, that if he had a civilian romantic soulmate, they might accuse him of cheating, and then his life could be ruined because he was the damn CEO of Waye Enterprises and thus in the public eye all of the time. The words written on his wristed also sounded both like they could be romantic or platonic soulmates, since usually soulmates considered one another family of some sorts automatically — it didn’t necessarily mean his soulmate was speaking about one of his brothers becoming their brother-in-law. They all knew there was a chance Bruce would adopt his soulmate one day (no matter what they said about that being unnecessary.)
Then he actually met his soulmate.
He met Marinette Dupain-Cheng.
A sweet young woman almost his age, perhaps around a year younger than him (turns out he was right when she told him of herself later before he managed to go and search her up), with black hair the shade of midnight sky, her eyes blue as Morning Glories. She was kind, thoughtful, great at baking (she could so some pastries better than Alfred could, and that said a lot about her skills), and she shared Tim’s love of coffee (Dick had been horrified when he found her pouring energy drinks into extra strong black coffee after the first night she spent at the manor).
She was also MDC, Tim’s all-time favourite designer, and it was suddenly much easier to commission her when she could just show him the designs in person and talk about them — why she wanted this thing here and that thing somewhere else. Tim was also much more eager to pay her a whole lot more than what she ever asked for, even if that was partly because Marinette was trying her hardest to lower her prices for him.
Yeah no, that didn’t work with him at all — she was fantastic at what she did and he’d be damned if he let her do the work underpaid.
She never pushed his boundaries too far, only enough to have him open up a little, but because she never made him feel uncomfortable or like she was trying to use him, it was fine; He was horrible at opening up himself and wouldn’t have done it without her. It was clear she knew what was alright and what was not — most of the time anyway. And even when she did push his boundaries too far, it was because she tried to show her appreciation to him or got too excited, and when he or someone else pointed it out to her (because she was bad at noticing it herself), she immediately stopped doing the thing and apologised over and over because she never meant to violate his boundaries.
And then she made sure to never overstep it again unless he gave her the explicit permission to do so.
That told him more about her than many other things did or even could.
She was also intelligent, sassy and sarcastic when she wanted to be, had a strong sense of justice and he knew for a fact she knew how to fight and well. She’d mentioned having done martial arts for quite some time and because she made a complaint about having nearly no opponents on her level, Jason asked her if she wanted to try and spar with him. She agreed and won two out of three matches, and though there was a chance he was just holding back (unlikely, considering how much Jason had talked about it on patrol that night), Damian had challenged her after that and they came to a tie. Twice. Damian then won the last round, probably when he finally stopped underestimating her and holding back. There was no way she wasn’t good.
Marinette always tried to help people in need if she could and wouldn’t take no for an answer when she decided that a person beaten to a bloody pulp was in no condition to walk home, especially not alone. If she had to pay for the taxi to get them home, well, she did, never expecting anyone to pay back.
She was absolutely perfect, if you asked Tim.
The problem was, she was a civilian regardless of how well she fought or how intelligent she was. He could never risk her safety by being in a close relationship with her in case someone found out his identity and decided to use her against him. Wouldn’t be the first time that happened in vigilante business. It had given him enough of a heart attack to be with her while in civvies and get caught by the Riddler because of course he had to be there and there was nothing Tim could do to help her himself — the small and young CEO was not supposed to be able to punch a guy’s teeth in.
And then she’d gone and insulted his fashion taste. Tim agreed, definitely, that green and purple three-piece suit was atrocious, but it was a horrible idea if you were a civilian because the Riddler was extremely sensitive about his fashion choices and a villain and he had hardly any rules as to what he did and to whom, unlike some of the Rogues. Marinette didn’t even have any protective gear against him.
So yeah.
An almost-heart attack.
Turns out, she solved all of his riddles rather quickly, some of them with Tim once the Riddler noticed him, and in the end they all got out safely and unharmed.
At least half of the credit of that definitely went to Marinette.
The best course of action would either be to tell her, or cut ties with her, make her hate him or anything that got her out of the danger zone that came with being in a close relationship with him.
The second option was definitely not what he wanted.
And that was what led him to here, sitting at the table in the apartment he used (especially) when he needed an escape from his dear but way too invasive family with Kon and Bart.
“It’s just, I don’t know what to do! I like her, I really do, but I can hardly pursue a relationship with a civilian. I might endanger her life! We’ve seen that happen with enough many of us. Someone figures out our identity, kidnaps a loved one and puts them at risk. Or sees us too close to a civilian while in the suit and decides they’ll put the loved one at risk anyway. I can’t risk my soulmate’s life for something like that, she doesn’t deserve it,” Tim exclaimed, groaning as his head hit the table. Thank heavens Bart had pulled the plate from under him just in time before his forehead would have ended up in his food.
(Though it was likely he was going to lose half of his food to Bart as well, it was likely he was going to eat Tim’s food while Tim wasn’t there to protect it. Asshole friends and all that.)
Sure, Kon and Bart would have probably had fun watching him ruin his looks (and hair, especially his hair) because of the tomato sauce and spaghetti he somehow had not managed to burn, but maybe they were pitying him enough for his soulmate problems to not just let it  happen for this one time. That, and he’d gotten injured in their latest fight and he would not honestly be surprised if they blamed themselves for it at least a little — that was what Tim kept doing if any of his teammates got injured when he was there and even theoretically could have helped.
“Tell her?” Bart suggested, shrugging as he filled his mouth with the spaghetti. From Tim’s plate. Oh well. Telling him to stop would probably not really help and it’s not like Tim couldn’t just steal Kon’s food later. Bart continued speaking as soon as his mouth was empty. “I don’t see why not. If she’s as amazing as you make her out to be, I can’t see a reason why you shouldn’t tell her. I’m gonna tell Adrien, by the way.”
“Do you have any idea when you’re going to do it?”
“Nope, but not yet ‘cause I don’t think it’s fair or appropriate since Paris just declared their heroes dead ‘cause they haven’t made any appearances — but that’s not to say they don’t know where the bodies are, perhaps they’re just protecting them? — in quite the while, but I will soon enough. Wouldn’t be fair to him to keep it a secret, right?” he chuckled and chewed on his (Tim’s) food.
Oh yeah. Paris’ heroes, the ones that were apparently dead. The heroes they had thought didn’t actually exist and were just a make-believe story to entertain people until Paris held a public memorial for them because they were nowhere to be found and told the people they just hadn’t found their corpses, but maybe that was just to protect their identities. The reminder they hadn’t helped them with their villain felt like a punch in the gut to Tim now, even if he hadn’t been the one to make the decision to not help.
He shook the thoughts away. This was not the time for blaming himself or anyone else for it, he could very well do that later.
“Kon?”
“I agree with Bart. If you think she’s good for you, I think it’s better if you just told her. It’s not like you would want to just cut ties with her to protect her and hurt the both of you at the process. It would definitely be like you, but I know you don’t want to do that to the one person meant for you.”
Tim sighed and stole his plate back. It was significantly emptier than it had been two minutes ago. Damn Bart. As a last-ditch effort, he stole Kon’s plate and scooped some of his food to his own plate, ignoring the rather offended look on Kon’s face. His fault, he hadn’t protected Tim’s food from Bart. Besides, Tim needed to eat something proper, after all. It might have been a little too long since the last time he ate more than an energy bar… so probably around three days since.
No wonder he was the smallest of them.
Munching on his food, he sunk back into his thoughts while Bart and Kon chatted animatedly, the few words he picked up indicating the conversation was about soulmates and Adrien in particular.
It had been a few weeks since he and Bart met their soulmates, but both of them were definitely interested in them — likely romantically, but only time would tell for sure. Marinette was amazing and sweet and Adrien must have been the only one as much of a sunshine child as Bart was, though according to Marinette, he could be a little shit when he felt like it. Then Bart and Kon had overheard Marinette discussing Adrien’s father with someone and turns out, Bart was ready to run to Paris and kick the man’s ass himself, regardless of whether he was in prison for being a supervillain and terrorising the city for years or not. Not that Tim would have stopped him. After all, Stephanie too had decided to ruin his father’s plans when it turned out he’d become a villain.
...That was something Adrien could probably bond over with Stephanie at some point. Maybe they’d found the “my dad’s a supervillain and I had nothing to do with it” club.
(“The list of bad dads just grows and grows,” Tim swore he’d heard Bart say afterwards with a suspicious grin on his face. Tim wouldn’t disagree with him though, he could name quite the number of them himself as well, one of them being his very own father.)
Then Marinette had heard Bart declare war on Gabriel Agreste and immediately told him she was joining — according to her, he didn’t have a choice in the matter because she really wanted to kick his ass again.
(Again? When had she managed to do it in the first place?)
So yeah. Having a civilian soulmate was difficult.
Then again… What if he made her a vigilante? She did possess all of the necessary qualities and even more to become a good vigilante that he could think of. Perhaps he should ask her if she’d like to do that. After all, she was now family, both Bruce and Dick had declared so (rather clearly and Dick loudly), accompanied by Alfred’s nods, Jason’s approving humming (and the way he started treating her better than he did most of the family), Cass’ silent approval visible in her smile as she looked at Marinette, and a little reluctant Damian as well.
It wouldn’t matter she didn’t have any superpowers like some people did — none of the family did, and they were all great at what they did, even if Gotham was nearly impossible to save at this point anymore. She was already good at martial arts, knew how to take care of herself (if it didn’t mean her inability to eat when she was supposed to or her reluctance to go to sleep (nightmares, perhaps?), but she knew how to defend herself and others.) She would make a good vigilante, especially with some special and personalised training. Now he only needed it approved by the rest of the family because she could and would put two and two together and realise all of them were involved with the vigilante business if he came clean to her as one.
Actually, that sounded like a good idea.
Then his phone chimed on the coffee table in the living room and he all but ran there, injuries be damned.
“Hey, careful there, you wouldn’t want us to tell Alfred you need new stitches,” Kon called after him before turning to Bart. “How much do you want to bet that was Marinette messaging him right there?”
“Nope, not betting anything when we both know full well it was Mari. There’s no one else he’d practically dive out of the table for and leave his food unguarded with us. Speaking of...”
“Bart! Do not even think about eating my food while I’m gone! It better be still there untouched when I come back, or so help me god I will kick your ass back to the next millennium!”
Bart just snickered.
God, why was he even friends with Bart?
Oh yeah, because he didn’t know how to live on without him (or Kon) anymore anyway.
⬷۵⤐
Marinette paced around her room in the Manor, panic clearly showing on her face. Adrien sat on the bed placed near the wall, leaning to it, seemingly unconcerned. He was mostly waiting for Marinette to calm down enough to stay still and just listen for a second in between her freak outs.
Thank kwamii for the fact they had gotten Wayzz to secure the room and create a shell in which they could talk without needing to worry whether someone heard them or not. No one would. They were safe.
...They also wouldn’t disturb anyone with it since it was way past midnight already.
“But this ruins everything!” Marinette exclaimed, finally standing in one place long enough for Adrien to decide paying attention to her would be worth it. Or, could be worth it.
Adrien rested his chin on his palm, tilting his head. “Now, Buginette, I love you and all,  but this is getting ridiculous, utterly ridiculous (“Don’t you dare sound like Chloé right now, Adrien!”) Are you sure you need to panic about all this? As far as I see it, you could just, I don’t know, tell him. Gabriel isn’t a threat anymore, and even if he was, we aren’t in Paris,” he said, and plopped down on the bed, propping one leg on his knee. Plagg seated himself on Adrien’s head, ready to take a nap, while Tikki had nestled on Marinette’s shoulder. It was amazing how she was so used to Marinette freaking out that she could just stay calm on even a pacing Marinette.
“I know I could tell him because Gabriel is behind bars, and I should tell Tim because otherwise it won’t be fair to him and I like him, probably romantically soon, and I can’t let myself pursue a romantic relationship with anyone that doesn’t know because it’s too much to keep a secret, but I have no idea how to! What if I scare him off because right now it looks like the both of us are staying here in Gotham — or at least the States — and knowing the two of us, we won’t be able to just quit hero work either! Speaking of which, we have to design ourselves new suits because Paris just declared us dead like a week ago. Not Marinette and Adrien, obviously, but Chat Noir and Ladybug. Understandable, we just disappeared after the fight with Papillon and there’s no way anyone would believe him if he said he didn’t hurt us so why would they believe he didn’t also kill us and—”
“Nette, please, try to breathe and calm down. It’s not that serious of a situation,” Adrien tried but Marinette had resumed pacing around and it was clear as day she was freaking out. It was also clear she wasn’t listening to a word he said anymore, and barely even paid attention to the fact she wasn’t, in fact, alone in the room in general. He sighed and stood up, grabbing his best friend by the shoulders. Plagg shrieked before he shut his mouth because of his holder’s sudden movement.
Now that had her stop and concentrate her attention on him again.
“I know it’s difficult for you to reveal your identity to anyone, including me even long after I realised my behaviour was a big no-no and apologised to you, and that’s fine. It just means you’re being responsible. But. This is your soulmate we’re talking about. There are so many reasons why you should tell him and you know that if you don’t, whatever relationship you might end up in with Tim might go horribly wrong if all the while you’re keeping a secret such as this from him.” Adrien took a deep breath and looked Marinette directly in the eyes. “I am well aware you like him like, a lot, so there’s no way you’d want to risk losing him in either way — by putting him in danger or by having him tell he can’t take you disappearing on him all the time anymore.”
Damnit. Adrien was right. Marinette hated it when Adrien was right. Mostly, because usually when Adrien was right and even she had to admit it because it was so obvious, it meant that the kwamii also agreed with him. And well. When Tikki, the literal miniature goddess of creation, said something should be done, her word was final. She had no way out of this, now did she?
“Nope!” said Tikki from next to her ear.
Oh. She’d said that out loud. For crying out loud.
But yeah, she truly did like Tim, a lot. He was smart, could banter with her rather easily without ever making her uncomfortable by doing so, was never put off by sarcasm (which was, unfortunately, quite rare nowadays and that meant she found it rather refreshing), and he was kind. Also, he had a huge sweet-tooth and mostly a good taste which meant she could freely bake a lot and Tim would likely enjoy any and all of it. She could use him to test new recipes, too.
She also liked his appearance — a lot. His looks were definitely nothing to scoff at. His hair was black and silky, and his eyes were so enchantingly blue (as were many of his brothers’ and Conner’s, if she was being honest, but his were her favourites) and she couldn't help but just drown in them. He genuinely liked her designs (he says he loves them, her mind not so helpfully reminded her, because that made it even better and even harder to let go of him if the need be), he wasn’t pretending to do so because they were soulmates. Tim also had such great ideas for new clothing sometimes — he had been a massive help with the design for her latest dress that she was planning on making for the up-coming Wayne Gala where he (and the rest of the family) had invited her.
Yeah, and Tim knew how to paint nails a little too well. Marinette was certainly going to use that little fact to her advantage and have him do her nails at some point.
Marinette also truly enjoyed spending time with his family and him. All of them respected her at least on some level (gave her the basic respect Jagged had taught everyone was supposed to give her automatically unless she actually did something to warrant them to lose said respect) and didn't try to have her bake or design clothes for them or have her do their chores they were supposed to do because they wanted a little more time to themselves — especially not for free. Never for free. And, even if they did ask her to do something for them (usually it was Jay or Dick doing so), they never failed to remind her she could say no and that depending on what they asked her to do they’d compensate it to her as soon as possible in whatever form she wanted — whether that be money or new fabric or favours or them helping her the next time she baked something.
They didn’t take her for granted, and that was freeing.
She was genuinely happy to spend time with them. Their presence, especially Tim’s, was comforting to her, with him it was safe for her to just be herself.
Yeah, she was too far gone for one Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne and definitely did not want to lose him. She could only hope she was someone Tim could be himself with as well.
Honestly, her biggest problem with all and any of this was that Tim was a civilian and in case someone found out he was close to her, it would be no good for him to know. If the threat was magical, there was no way he could fight it off even if he was anything like his brothers when it came to fighting (she just didn’t know, but she did suspect he was). She herself could get out of problematic situations rather easily, but there was no telling just how bad situation could get until Tim would no longer have any way to get away. She figured he had to have at least some kind of basic training because so many in his family seemed to know martial arts, he lived in Gotham and was a CEO, but she had no idea to what extent he could protect himself.
And indeed, because the miraculous considered her an adult now and she no longer had a time limit after she used her special ability (whatever it was depending on the miraculous), it meant there was no way she would even consider stopping. Of course, she still tried not to push too far after she did use that ability as to not exhaust the kwami she was using too much and she’d made it her point to wear multiple miraculouses at once at all times so even if she had to detransform to let one kwami rest, she wouldn’t need to stop fighting right away or wait until they recharged.
In a city like Gotham where she could be needed, this all meant she could not stop being a hero. (Though, she knew that Batman wasn’t known for being too fond of magic users, or metas, whatever it was they called them, so she would need to have him somehow accept her presence or prepare to fight him and perhaps also all of his team that seemed to actually be his family — especially Robin seemed to still be a little child, younger than her when she received her miraculous.) Not since they had seemed to decide they were going nowhere from there, most of all not Paris.  
They were never going to return, they really didn’t want to do so, what with the entire city being full of traumatic memories to them. Maybe they’d visit Kagami and Luka and her parents, maybe his aunt and cousin, but otherwise, no. Besides, their soulmates were both here, they had hardly any people they had good relationships with in Paris anymore because they’d both eventually stood up to their class, Gabriel was in prison — which, in turn, meant that the majority of Paris blamed Papillon’s actions on Adrien at least on some level. It didn’t matter to them that he had said that no, he had nothing to do with his father’s actions, and that his father actually abused him and he was glad to be finally free from him.
It wasn’t like they didn’t have a list of excuses to stay.
(Marinette wasn’t going to admit it any time soon, but she had an actual list of the excuses to stay written down in case someone asked her and her brain wouldn’t agree on cooperating at that time. It was also partly in case she ended up mentioning there were many, many, many reasons for them to stay and someone asked for a list; This way she could literally provide them with one. It was both on multiple papers and notebooks and on her phone — after all, back-up copies were very useful.)
Yet another reason as to why she should tell Tim — even though her Miraculous Cure healed and restored almost anything, it had mostly stopped working on her as it drew its energy from both her and Tikki, and now she was full of scars. Sure, it mostly healed the biggest injuries so she was rarely limping or bleeding long, and they never became devastating, but well. It still wasn’t any good that she had to keep covering some of the scars behind layers of makeup or hide them under clothing. Thank kwami Adrien had yet to report the same was happening to him.
There was no way Tim wouldn’t discover the scars’ existence at some point, regardless of whether their soulbond was romantic or platonic (although she certainly hoped it was romantic), so it would be far better to just come clean about it before he eventually found out about them on his own anyway.
So yeah.
She also had a long list of very good reasons to tell Tim.
The problem here was, she had no idea how.
She could hardly just walk up to him and blurt out she was Ladybug when it had just been announced that Ladybug (and Chat Noir at that, but it was up to Adrien to decide whether he wanted to tell his identity to anyone aside from Bart — he likely wanted to tell him) were dead, she would have to come up with a better plan to that. A lot better plan.
But perhaps… perhaps if she presented him with a miraculous and asked him to fight alongside her and Adrien… Maybe Bart could be there as well if Adrien considered it a good idea?
“Hey, Adrien, what do you think? Would Tim be a good miraculous user? And how about Bart?” she asked. Fiddling with the mouse necklace she was wearing, Marinette turned to look at Adrien who had, at some point, left from her side. Mullo was sleeping somewhere inside her hood.  “They both seem like people that would like to help others if they could — I mean, Tim already tries as a CEO and I simply don’t know Bart that well yet — but I don’t know. I want to hear your opinion on this as well because even if I am now the guardian and could technically just do whatever the hell I wanted, you’re still my partner in crime… fighting, and since some of my previous choices weren’t too good…”
Yeah, she did mean Alya and Nino. Also others, but those she’d trusted the most, so…
“Are you seriously asking me if I’d like to have both our soulmates by our side if— no, when we are fighting possibly magic-based crime in Gotham or elsewhere in the States?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. She nodded slowly. Adrien arched an eyebrow as he looked at her like she had made the stupidest question he had ever heard in his life before. “Duh, obviously, of course I want them there. Bart would be good. He’s so fast already — no, seriously, I swear, he’s quicker at doing things than Plagg is at eating camembert —, he’s a quick thinker and okay, he’s a little impulsive, but most of the time his ideas haven’t been that horrible, so a miraculous could probably enhance all of it in a good way.”
“And Tim’s got a good sense of justice and he’s one of the smartest people I’ve met. He’d be great at any strategic positions and— you know, I think he could work either the snake or the dragon miraculous really well.”
Adrien nodded enthusiastically. “Now you’re talking my language. Mayhaps the fox miraculous would be good for Bart, he’d get to be creative and I’m sure if he got up to any mischief, Trixx would only be more than happy to help. Or maybe the horse— actually, no, forget about that, I don’t think that’s a good idea because he might get the idea to send us all to anywhere in the world because it seemed like a good idea to him for all of two seconds and that’s the one thing that would make everything really problematic.” Adrien sunk into his thought for a moment, tapping his nose with his finger absent-mindedly as he tried to think of something else. Then his eyes brightened as he came up with an idea.
“Oh, the turtle! He’s quick so it wouldn’t take him long to protect those in need of it, and maybe in some moments when he’s too impulsive, Wayzz could be there as a voice of reason and common sense in his head. I don’t actually mind his impulsiveness at all but sometimes all of us could use a Wayzz to help us slow down a little.”
Wayzz himself looked torn between agreeing, and strongly disagreeing and escaping before Adrien could convince Marinette to give him to Bart.
“I’m seriously considering this now. I have no idea how to give them one, though. It isn’t as simple as it would have been in Papillon’s Paris — we don’t have a Miraculous threat here and no one knows us. I mean, they’ve probably heard of the deceased Ladybug and Chat Noir, but not the ones we’re going to become. We can hardly just swing up to them and be like “hey have you ever wanted to be a hero? Well, here’s a miraculous that will transform you into a magical superhero with the help of jewellery and a god like in some anime—” God damn it Adrien, now I consider transforming into LB the same kind of thing as your anime’s girls with objects to make them magically transform.”
“They’re magical girls, actually. And well, I have to say, we kind of are magical girls, you know. Magical transformation, magic, magic provided superpowers, magical healing, double lives, way too obvious costumes for anyone to not figure out our identity yet none of them do it anyway… Oh, and we have specific words to transform us along with magical accessories or jewellery and we have a literal transformation choreography! Clearly magical girls!”
“Magical girls, then, whatever. Never compare us to them again.”
Adrien just snickered.
“Ugh, shut up, will you?”
“Of course. But yeah, you’re right, we can’t just appear behind their windows and give them a miraculous. That would be just stupid and irresponsible, now wouldn’t it?”
“Why do you sound so sarcastic?”
“That might be because I kind of am.”
“Go away.”
She had no idea how she could still stand Adrien. Why was he her best friend again?
Oh yeah.
Because he was the one who had stood right there by her side through thick and thin.
That’s why.
⬷۵⤐
“So. Let me get this straight—”
“In this family?”
“Shut up, Jaybird. So, what you’re saying is, you want to reveal us all to your girlfriend because you don’t want to keep secrets this big from her?”
Tim sighed and ran a hand down his face, exasperated. Hadn’t he just explained this? “No, Dick, first of all, she’s not my girlfriend — at least yet. What I’m asking is if it’s okay to everyone I tell her I’m Red Robin and get her to start training so she can become a vigilante as well. She’d be good at it. I don’t want to keep my identity from her in case we do start dating because then what if she thinks I’m cheating on her or up to some other not-good stuff when I keep sneaking out in the middle of the night and can’t even tell her what for.”
“And why do you want her to be a vigilante? You know it’s dangerous.”
“Then why is any of us doing it? It would anyway be her choice. Besides, if she was fighting beside me, she wouldn’t even need to worry about me that much because she could technically probably see me and not have to stay at home, you know? I know I can see there’s something in her that reminds me a lot of most of us, the need to fight for justice and for those in need of help because no one else does either. I can see the crave to fight in her.”
Dick sighed and tilted his head, his expression hard as steel. “You really thought this through, didn’t you?”
“Obviously. And as to why I’m asking you is because she’s actually smart and would definitely put two and two together when I tell her I’m Red Robin; The likeliness of Robin, Red Robin, Batman, Nightwing, Batgirl, Red Hood — yes, Jason, you too, have you seen the giant red bat on your chest you insist on wearing even though you claim to detest us half the time because we all can see it —, Black Bat, the Signal and the rest of us being close with each other, if not family, is quite high. Basically, she would most likely connect you all to the vigilantes running around.”
Bruce crossed his arms over his chest and shot him the Batdad-Look™, and if he hadn’t been so determined to get them to agree, it would have probably made him a… little too nervous to keep on talking. Alas, it wasn’t going to make him stop because he really, really wanted Marinette to fight beside him and if it meant he needed to bear with Bruce’s Batdad-Looks™, then so be it. He was not about to go down without first putting up a fight.
Tim couldn’t even explain how grateful he was for the fact Bruce stayed quiet despite the expression on his face. It helped his situation a little.
Instead, it did not help that he could feel Cass’ eyes on his back. She was sitting on the ground a small distance away from them, probably reading all of them like they were open books. He decided to ignore it for now — there was really nothing else he could do.
“And you know she’s a good fighter — you saw her spar with Jason! You saw how she fought against Damian who actually, officially challenged her, like she were equal. He doesn’t do that too often. We all also know neither of them wasn’t holding back too much on second matched anymore, if at all in the in the third one. She only lost once they stopped holding back and even then she put up a good fight — the matches weren’t over in minutes. Like, we’ve all gotten training from at least the Bat himself, likely from many others too. She has not. That makes it an impressive feat. With training, she could probably be one of the best of us!”
Steph lifted her hands above her head as to surrender and to draw attention to herself. “Alright, I’m cool with it. Timmy’s passionate about his cause and also I like Mari. It could be fun to have her in the team.”
Thank goodness, at least someone was on his side.
Dick’s phone chimes and he looks at the message, groaning when he reads it. “Babs told me to tell you all that she also says yes, that she trusts Marinette with all of this if others are fine with it as well,” he says slowly, before he puts his phone away. It’s strange seeing him not cheerful, but Tim can’t afford to care about it too much now .
Another voice spoke up softly. “I think… Marinette makes a good fighter,” Cass said from her spot, resting her body weight on her arms with the flats of her palms on the ground. She seemed thoughtful. Her words carried a meaning all of them understood, even if she didn’t say it out loud — she liked her too and wanted her in, but that she too would like Marinette to get some training first before letting her out.
Just in case.
They knew she wanted to lose people just as much as the rest of them — which meant, she didn't want to lose any more people she cared about.
Then, a sigh. “Yeah, gotta agree. Could be nice to have her on our side, she’s fun. And Timber’s right, she does seem like she’s achin’ to go fight a bitch. It’d be better if we made sure she’s got the necessary skills and stuff, and I’d rather not have to fight her because one of us considers her an enemy or because she thinks that of us. Girl’s got some mad skills. Also, B, if you think about it for a second longer, I’m sure you’d realise that if there’s a chance she is going out anyway, I’m sure you’d prefer she followed your rules, too, right?”
Tim… wasn’t sure when the last time he’d been grateful for Jason’s input had last occurred, but he was certainly ready to let Jason do whatever the hell he wanted with criminals during their next patrol together, that’s how grateful he was. Yes, even if it meant Jason shooting them in the fucking kneecaps.
“Yes, but she’s still—”
“She’s what, Grayson? She put up a respectable fight even thought she’s still clearly inferior to me, but I do not doubt she could do the same in the field. Her skills most certainly require improvement and bettering, and she needs to fine her techniques if she wants to hold her own out there without getting killed, but I’m certain she’s more than capable of getting to Todd’s level with guidance.”
Okay, wow. Damian was defending Marinette. He definitely needed to tell this to her — he was sure she’s appreciate hearing the little demon of the family respected her enough to speak up against Dick and his father, the only ones of them he’d ever openly admitted held his respect, even if he didn’t necessarily word it as “I respect you” or “you have my respect.” It seemed Marinette got the honor of being the third one, and she had been family for all of some weeks. She’d even gotten him to use the word “respectable” when talking about her.
She got him admitting to all of them, all of them, that he thought she was good and worth his respect. Now that was something.
So, Tim also appreciated him speaking up. This tiny (alright so he may not have been that tiny anymore and there’s a chance Damian was now taller than Tim, but who cared, he would always be tiny to Tim) teenager was still the only biological child of Bruce and also one of the hardest of them to impress, so if he said something of this sort about anyone (the last time it was something about Jon but Tim hadn’t cared enough to remember what it actually was about anymore), everyone would at least listen to him before simply jumping to decisions.
So yeah. If there ever was a time Tim wanted nothing more than to take his little brother out and let him find a few new animals to keep as pets, even if they weren’t good as pets, it was now. It certainly was now.
“I’m siding with Tim here — don’t give me that look, Dick, the ones already sided with him are scarier and more dangerous than you and Bruce together, so even if I didn’t agree, his side would be the wiser choice—”, Duke starts, shrugging, though there was a clear smile on his face. “But like, Marinette’s nice, like actually nice, and if she’s going to become family anyway, I don’t see why we couldn’t have her in this as well. Tim has a good point — several good points, actually, so the logic is also on his side.”
Yeah, Tim certainly couldn’t hide his smile any longer. Only Dick and Bruce were yet to say yes. Maybe he could actually do this.
Of course, he was not going to go through with any of this if all of them didn’t agree. He could risk his own identity to his soulmate, but there was no way he was going to force anyone else to do so for anyone, least of all for someone that wasn’t literally linked to them by their very soul. He would never compromise all of them for one person.
“Okay, fine. It seems everyone else is saying yes, so I guess I’m outvoted here. I just want every one of you to stay safe, you know? I don’t want this to end up being the reason any of you gets hurt.”
Yes, Tim knew that. Regardless of how annoying Dick managed to get a lot of the time, or how frustratingly stubborn he always was, or how his attitude was irritatingly similar to Bruce’s even when their personalities weren’t even remotely similar most of the time (that one was probably causation of Bruce taking care of Dick for like a decade), there was never any doubt his love or concern for any of them wasn’t genuine. That much was more than obvious.
He managed to give Dick a small smile, hoping it would convey he was grateful he finally said yes.
Now there was only one left to convince.
The most difficult of them (if you didn’t count Damian in, anyway) to convert.
Bruce was stubborn as hell when he wanted to, but seeing as he was stubborn even if he wasn’t trying to be, this could either be easy or the most difficult thing Tim had ever done. It had taken him a while to convince Bruce to make him Robin, but back then all he was trying was to have him take himself in and train him; Back then Tim wasn’t planning on telling his identity to someone who didn’t know yet, someone who could figure out the rest of them as well, and then have her trained to become one of them. Tim knew it, it was a lot to ask, but he wanted to do it anyway. It was important to him, alright?
Tim turned to look at Bruce. “Well? How is it?” He placed his hands on his hips and tilted his head, waiting for an answer. Any answer, really.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea, Tim. What if something happens to her? Or what if something happens to you? Or any of your siblings?”
“But what if something happens to her because I didn’t tell her? And besides, something could happen to any of us at any given time, given what we all do on nightly basis. We could have also just not done it, but we are doing it anyway and like hell is any of us going to just quit. Out world is full of what-ifs, we cannot help them, and I’ll be damned if I let them make me lose the one person actually made for me, the one person that I was tailored to.”
“With all due respect, Master Bruce, I must say, you have told your identity — even if only subtly hinted at it with a very specific set of words so that it’s enough for them to make the connection — so many times that I think you can hardly be against this. None of them were even your soulmate. Need I remind you of who everyone knew or found out without ever even becoming one of us? At least Master Tim is planning on bringing her in on all of this and planning to have her properly trained,” Alfred said, appearing in the doorway behind Bruce.
So sure, Cass and Damian knew exactly how to seemingly just appear and reappear without anyone noticing as though they could teleport, sure, Commissioner Gordon always complained about Batman doing it, and sure, the rest of them knew how to blend in with the shadows (they just didn’t always do it), but Alfred also seemed to possess this skill — better than most of them, anyway. Tim had absolutely no idea how, but he wasn’t about to complain.
Besides, it was Alfred, so it wasn’t surprising. Honestly, was there anything the man couldn’t do?
But the thing is, Alfred was also right. He had let Rachel Dawes find out. He let commissioner Gordon find out. Mr. Fox knew because Bruce had asked for help and equipment he then used as Batman while he was being Bruce Wayne — now that right there had never even seen subtle hinting. A whole lot of other people knew as well, though many had found out on their own — such as Tim, while some found out because of other, not so lovely circumstances, like Selina.
So, all in all, Bruce was the worst of them to say anything about it. True, he was mostly protective of them, always thinking up the worst-case scenarios about everything, something Tim himself did as well because that was the easiest way to make sure they were prepared for absolutely anything and everything, but Tim trusted Marinette. He wanted to trust her, just like Bruce had trusted some people. And in any case, he’d rather trust than live his life in suspicion of most people, like some people he knew did. Like Bruce.
Bruce opened his mouth to say something, but as nothing came out, he just closed it again. A defeated sigh slipped past his lips and he let go of the tensity in his shoulders, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Fine, I can see when I’ve lost. I want to meet her soon after you tell her, maybe right away after it, though, regardless of whether she makes the connection or not. I would prefer if all of you were here then,” he said, motioning at all of them before he placed his hand on Tim’s shoulder. “And that you—” he cast a pointed look at Tim, “—tell us when you are going to do it. I trust that you understand what you’re doing. I do not want to find out Ms. Dupain-Cheng is a danger to any of you, but especially you.”
“Of course. I take full responsibility of her and her training—”
“No you won’t. I’ll do that, although I do expect you to be there for her and to be a major help. I’m still your father and I don’t care if you’re already 19, because I’m not letting my children be that much of adults just yet.”
“Hey!”
Bruce just smiled (a tense smile, one that was half-forced on his face) and left all of them (except Cass whom Tim couldn’t see anywhere anymore) behind, gaping.
“Did he just—”
“Oh my god he totally did!”
“Please tell me someone recorded B calling himself a father and calling us his children.”
Tim had a vague suspicion that Cass had indeed recorded it, was going to send it to all of them, and then, depending on the reactions to it, would send a voice message of her laughing to their group chat.
Well, that definitely went better than he thought.
⬷۵⤐
“You know, I’m glad I have you as my soulmate,” Marinette began around a week later as they were sitting in the living room of the Wayne Manor. She snuggled closer to him and Tim wrapped an arm around her, comfortable and relaxed for the first time in a few days. “I’ve known you for not that long, but I already know I don’t want to lose you.”
She reached for his hand and took it in her own. Tim squeezed her hand back.
“Me neither.” Tim saw this as an opening — after all, most, if not all, of his reasons to tell Marinette who he was and all his plans about how exactly he should do it were born from the idea that he didn’t want to lose her. And so, he stood up, still holding her hand, and pressed a light kiss on it. “I need to show you something important. Will you follow me?”
A soft laughed escaped from Marinette as she replied, smiling, “Always, to the ends of the world.”
Marinette let herself be pulled up to her feet and led through the endless dark hallways of the manor. He quickly shot a message (“I’m prepared to do it, I’m taking her down now. Be there in five”) to the group chat before putting his phone away. When it vibrates in his pocket, he first looked at Marinette as though to make sure it was fine with her if he checked and possibly answered — after all, he knew it wasn’t too urgent or they would have called, and as far as Marinette was aware, this was supposed to be their time together to get to know each other better and all, not time for either of them to spend talking to other people via phone —, the corners of his lips turning upwards at her when she nodded with a smile on her face.
It seemed smiles liked to creep up on his face a lot more now that Marinette was around.
The message was from Jason, and Tim rolled his eyes fondly at it.
I thought you were supposed to tell her instead of fighting her, babybird.
shut up jason
You know pwefectly well what taking her down means int his case
Oh yes, I most definitely do.
It’s just so much fun reminding you of the existence of double meanings you either use to insult people or forget about completely.
But yeah, we’ll be ready.
“One of your brothers?”
“Yep. Jason is being a cumberworld.”
“And him being a cumberworld definitely makes you grin and roll your eyes as though he merely made a stupid joke and you, unfortunately, thought it rather amusing. Got it.”
“Wait. You actually know what it means?”
“Duh, obviously. After listening to you and your family for a while, it seemed like a good idea to do some research on different English insults so they wouldn’t fly by me all the time.”
Tim snorted. Of course. Only Marinette would. Only her. Everyone else outside of their family seemed to give up on trying to understand after a little while, but noooo, this girl decided she was going to spend extra time doing some research just to be able to understand — that, and also most likely to be able to laugh at them. She definitely fit in just fine.
It didn’t take them too long after that to get to the main study in the manor that Tim had earlier told her was Bruce’s and told her not to go in. Maybe that was why Marinette now looked quite nervous and anxious as he unlocked the door and pushed it open, motioning for her to go in.
“Are you sure we can go in here? Mr Wayne— I mean, Bruce, isn’t going to get mad at us? And you aren’t about to kill me, right?” she laughed, trying to mask her nervousness with humour, but walked in anyway. She relaxed a little and the tensity in her shoulders slipped away the slightest bit as Tim shook his head as no.
He walked to the grandfather clock in the room and let go of Marinette’s hand in order to be able to turn the hands of the clock. The clock hit 10:48 (Tim had always thought there was no one more grim than the Batman but then he actually met Bruce Wayne and found out you needed to turn the clock to show the time Bruce’s parents had been murdered, and was just like that forced to change his view on the matter) and the panel unlocked, opening the door hidden from view behind the clock.
Marinette’s jaw dropped open. This was most certainly not what she had been expecting, that much was sure.
“Well then, my fair lady, shall we enter?” he asked, grinning at Marinette’s flabbergasted expression even as she walked closer and tried to figure out where the entrance would take them.
She could keep trying; he was not about to tell her just yet.
The elevator took them down and soon enough, they were in the cave. He stepped out of the doors and waited for Marinette to follow him.
“...Where are we?” she asked, her voice a little strained.
“Uh.”
“Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne, where in the world exactly did you take me?”
It seemed actually telling her turned out a little more difficult than he thought. Well, no use crying now — he couldn’t just brush off all of this like he hadn’t just taken his soulmate down to the Batcave either.
“Alright. So, this might come as a shock and for the love of all that’s still holy and sacred in this world please do not freak out. I just decided I needed to tell you this before we consider pursuing any relationship on a deeper and closer level than what we have now, regardless of in what sense it would be.
Marinette nodded slowly, encouraging him to go on even as she seemed suspicious (and anxious) about what was going on. Perhaps that was a good thing since they were in Gotham, in the city where you never knew who the person in front of you was or what they did in their free time (or at night).
Tim took a deep breath before dropping the bomb on her. “I am Red Robin, one of the vigilantes of Gotham.”
At his declaration, her jaw dropped. Again. “You— I— What?”
“I’m Red Robin,” he repeated and pulled out the domino mask he had taken with him and slipped into his pocket, putting it on his face. Thank heavens for Marinette and her need to give him big pockets whenever he commissioned her (and there was any reason to put pockets to said commissioned clothing) because of that one offhand comment complaining about too small pockets some of his clothes had. He scratched his chin awkwardly before realising what he was doing and pulled his hand down, pressing his nails to his skin to keep himself from bringing it up again. “I was also thinking, you’d make a good vigilante if that’s what you wanted to do. Obviously, I would need to train you first to make sure you’d be ready for Gotham’s streets, but I thought it could help you not to worry about me if you saw me in action and actually had the chance to help me if necessary?”
That… wasn’t supposed to come out as a question. Why did it come out as one?
But Marinette’s silence was worrying him. It would be understandable not to get an answer now, but he knew her well enough by now to know that she would be mindlessly rambling at this point if it were merely shock she was experiencing.
“You… You aren’t a villain or planning on becoming one, right? Because even if you were my soulmate, that would mean I’d have to take you down.” Almost certain he could feel Dick’s pointed (and amused, definitely amused) look on his back, he added, “I’m not about to go down the Batman-Catwoman route with this.”
That startled Marinette out of her shock and as she stared him dead in the eye, she blurted out, “Spots on!”
Tim could have almost sworn he heard an exasperated and quiet “Marinette, why couldn't you just tell him like we agreed?” as bright pink light enveloped her and soon revealed that in her place there stood a young woman in a red suit with black spots.
And a spotted mask.
Which made it a ladybug suit.
Or the Ladybug suit.
On his soulmate that came from Paris.
Paris’ Ladybug…
“Oh my god. You’re Ladybug. My soulmate is Ladybug. This is a thing now, apparently. Aren’t you supposed to be dead? Actually, no, I’ve seen enough people that were resurrected, it wouldn’t even be that surprising. How were you—”
Ladybug’s shoulders lifted to her ears and she smiled sheepishly. “Hi? I’m not a villain as you can see?”
It was Tim’s turn to simply stare at Marinette. He— he was not expecting this turn of events. He sighed and waved his hand a little in a “come here” gesture, knowing they were there and that they’d seen her transform anyway. That would mean there was no secret identity problem anymore as her identity wasn’t really a secret anymore, per se. Besides, since she was a hero already, they could very well just introduce themselves to her already.
He had to admit, this was absolutely wonderful as it meant she fit in perfectly — it was as though she had always been the missing piece of the puzzle that was his life and family.
Of course, though he was expecting fate to be a jerk and give him a civilian soulmate, Fate instead decided to cut him some slack and just give him someone that could actually keep up with him and the family he wasn’t going to get rid of anyway, no matter what he tried or wanted (not that he wanted to get rid of them most of the time).
But well. A soulmate was supposed to suit you perfectly, so maybe it wasn’t that surprising.
Ladybug didn’t seem to notice his family approaching them as she kept on rambling and tried to explain herself. “I’m also not dead and never was. Chat Noir isn’t dead either though he has died multiple times during akuma attacks and was resurrected by my Miraculous Cure. Paris just happens to have a tendency to get overdramatic and jump to conclusions, and Chaton and I decided we didn’t want the Ladyblogger on our backs any longer. Neither of us is too fond of her, especially not after the phenomenon that is Lila Rossi,” she said, sighing as she cocked her hip. Ladybug shook her head and turned her eyes to the side. It seemed the name meant a lot, just not in any good way. “Wait. If you’re Red Robin, then—”
“Hiii!”
Aaandd it seemed that Dick had taken that as his cue to make his presence known. How lovely.
Ladybug turned to Dick and then back to Tim, arching an eyebrow. “Since you’re Red Robin, I’m going to go ahead and suppose this is your family. Am I right?”
“Yeah, unfortunately.”
“They’re not going to try and fight me or drive me out of your city for having powers, right?”
Batgirl cuffed him upside the head as she skipped to them, walked past Tim and then looked Ladybug up and down before nodding approvingly. “Definitely approve, though that suit… Am I seriously supposed to believe you’re our sweet, wonderful, talented fashion designer? Also no, even if B-Man or Dickiebird over there tried, Timmers, Damian and I would fight for you. You’re staying because I like you. We all like you.”
Ladybug flushed lightly at the compliments and the otherwise sweet words, but to her credit, her voice didn’t even waver when she replied (unlike usually), “I just haven’t had the energy and time to change it yet. It’s magic, can’t change it that easily.”
“Oh, okay. Well, try and see if you can recognise all of us!”
Ladybug bit her lip and looked at each and every one of them separately, her calculating eyes feeling like they could see right through all of them. She walked between them and around them, a sly grin appearing on her face.
“Well, Bats here is probably Mr Wayne. He’s the oldest of all and I strongly doubt any of you could be doing what you are if he didn’t know — unless, of course, it was Alfred, and I don’t doubt Alfred’s skills at all, but I’m pretty sure that back when Robin wasn’t there yet, someone needed to look after Batman and I honestly think only Alfred could have that much power on him. So. Mr Wayne.”
Batman took off his cowl, indeed revealing Bruce himself.
As she moved on to Nightwing, she winked and laughed with an “I did do my homework on the flight here. Seriously, did you think I wouldn’t?” Then she turned to look Nightwing in the eye (or, would have looked him in the eye if not for his domino. “I’m going to say Dick. I’ve been watching you all while I’ve been here — in both forms, it seems —, and I doubt any of you could pull some of the moves, or the attitude, Nightwing does, except for Dick. Don’t give me that look, you did jump from the balcony at some point last week, landing safely on the ground after showing off and doing like a million spins and somersaults.”
Tim laughed. “Dick, I told you, someone else besides me was going to recognise you for your somersaults one day.”
“You too?”
“Oh yeah, I worked out Dick’s, Bruce’s and then Jason’s original identities because of Dick’s quadruple-somersault when I was a kid. Nightwing’s identity wasn’t difficult either since, well, it was obviously the previous Robin.”
“Of course you would.”
Then she turned to Oracle in her wheelchair. “Anyway. I know you’re Barbara, and I’m so glad to see you here too, but I’m nor sure about you alias,” she said, her voice clearly apologetic for the fact.
“It’s alright,” Barbara comforted her and gave her a smile, “I wasn’t expecting you to know it. I’m Oracle, it’s nice to meet you. I’ll probably get you on the comms at some point as well because managing things is what I do now. The woman in the chair, if you will,” she continued, making Marinette chuckle. Tim loved the sound.
“Then the big bad Red Helmet over there is Jason — no, seriously, Jay, why in the world are you the Red Hood if you aren’t even wearing one?” she asked, her face twisting as she looked at him. God, Tim loved this girl, she would happily stab any of their fashion sense with a smile on her face, and honestly, the helmet was horrible. Her words earned her snickers from all around the room. She was obviously pleased with herself as Jason took off his mask and gaped at her, offended.
She didn’t even pay him attention too much, continuing on with her list. “The scowling Robin over there is definitely Damian, only he could pull off those expression with a hint of Bat in them, and the current Batgirl is obviously Stephanie. Duke is the Signal — that was your name, right? Oh, and Cass, you’re Black Bat, aren’t you?” At Cass’ nod and her revealing her face, Marinette let out a sigh of relief. “You’re one of the only ones here with an acceptable suit.”
Ladybug transformed back into Marinette, a small creature appearing from her… earrings? before hiding inside her jacket. Tim decided to ignore it, maybe it was nothing. Marinette turned around, spinning on her heel to face Bruce. “Like, I know you need protection because there’s no magic to do so, but you could have protection with suits that looked less ridiculous and atrocious than this,” she said, motioning at their clothing. “That actually goes to most of you. I especially hope there’s a really good reason and a story behind Robin’s colours, because otherwise I will not possibly be able to understand why anyone would go around as a vigilante in colours this bright.”
“There is a reason behind the color choices,” Dick said disturbingly quietly from where he was standing. “They were my family’s colors.”
Marinette winced lightly — she too knew what had happened to them on that fateful night. “Alright. That’s a good reason, even if they’re still horrible colour choices. That would make you the first Robin, right?” Dick nodded. “It’s understandable for you to want to use your family’s colours.” Her solemn tone indicated she accepted Dick’s reason for it completely, telling them all she felt bad for saying they were horrible but knew she wouldn’t back off — and they wouldn’t blame her for that either —, and they all knew she was going to leave arguing and pressing for explanations away completely. Her limitless capability of empathy was admirable.
Then she turned back to Tim. “Is that offer about training still on the table? I’d love to take it if so. I could probably win any of you as Ladybug because magic and a goddess in my pocket, also known as Tikki— Oh, actually! Tikki, come on out, come say hi to Tim!”
A small red, ladybug-like creature flew from under her jacket to Tim, smiling brightly. He immediately recognised it as the fairy he’s seen earlier. “Hi! I’m Tikki, the goddess — or as we like to call ourselves, the kwami — of creation. It’s lovely to finally meet my holder’s soulmate!”
“It’s, uh, nice to meet you as well, I guess? I take it you’re the one that helps Marinette transform,” Tim said, a little confused by the flying, speaking creature.
“Yup, I’m an ancient being, older than anything and everything else, so while she’s not the only one I’ve helped — the history is full of Ladybugs —, she’s my current holder. Remember that if you hurt her, while Adrien can do a lot of destruction and damage —” there seemed to be a double meaning behind those words but he just couldn’t figure out what it was. “—I will be the one you actually want to look out for!”
Tikki’s words were single handedly the single most terrifying thing Tim had ever heard, and it did not help at all that she was smiling all through it, her voice gentle and kind, her entire demeanour bright even when she was threatening him. He didn’t even want to know what a goddess of creation could do as retaliation.
“If I hurt her, I’d let you do whatever you wanted,” Tim finally heard himself say. Those words were surprisingly true and ran deep, he realised. It… should honestly have been alarming. It was not.
“Good, you understood quickly. This one’s good, let’s keep him.” Tikki patted his head — and such a weird image it must have been, a creature maybe the size of his hand patting his head —, bringing Tim comfort for some reason. He had absolutely no idea how she managed it, being terrifying and so sweet and safe at the same time. He could totally see where Marinette got it from. “Also, some of you have definitely been in close — too close — touch with the Lazarus Pit, this place reeks of it. Marinette, tell me, why haven’t we already taken Plagg with us to the Lazarus Pit and gotten rid of it for good?”
Marinette shrugged, unaware of what was happening in the background behind her — Jason gaping, Bruce in shock, Damian just staring at them like he had seen a ghost, which was a rather disturbing picture because sometimes it seemed the boy could get fazed by nothing. The rest looked just confused. Maybe he should just leave them be and try to focus on Marinette and Tikki right now. “Jeez, Tikki, I have no idea. Maybe, maybe it’s because this has got to be the first time I hear about them and honestly, it should be more disturbing than it is that I, for some reason I don’t want to know, actually know what you’re talking about. Is that a guardian thing?”
Tikki nodded before speaking. “Well, we have to do it at some point. Let’s take the cat with us as well, I’m sure he’d prefer not to be left alone if we’re taking Plagg with us anyway. For now, though, I’m sure we can talk about it later.”
Tim shook his head, trying to concentrate. “Yeah, the offer is still on the table. I’d be happy to train you. You’d also get training from the Bat himself if you wanted — he actually insisted on it before this,” he laughed. “But yeah, I’ll be there anyway. Fun soulmate bonding and all that, right? Fighting, training and sparring until we can no longer stand on our own two feet, that’s all anyone could ever want,” he mused, odd warmth filling his chest as Marinette chuckled at his comment.
“Yes, you get it. Finally someone gets it — looking at you, Chat. Having said that, I do have to tell you it’s a little awkward and a huge coincidence you happened to ask me if I wanted to become a vigilante, as I was kind of going to ask you the same.”
“Huh?”
“You just beat me to revealing your identity and asking. I was wondering if you’d like to try using a miraculous, you know? It’s so much fun unless you’re trying to save an entire city that’s flooding and your partner is not doing what he’s supposed to and you have maybe five minutes left after you use your special ability but other than that, it’s great. I know you sometimes get even magical threats here, and I’m sure you’d rather be able to deal with them yourself instead of having to get the magic users not from here involved every single time since it’s your city. Also, since I’m not going to quit being Ladybug, and I will be out there doing my thing, I’d like to have my soulmate in the team sometimes as well, by my side. Obviously, you can refuse, but like, I could see you being a good snake. Sass would like you.”
Tikki nodded, clearly agreeing with Marinette. He knew better than to ask if they realised what sass meant, or to tell them that he was already familiar with sass, since it was probable this Sass was one of the Kwamies. Kwamiis. Kwamii? He had no idea.
Then she turned around to face the others whose attention — all of it — went immediately to her when she focused hers at them. “It could also be fun to see how any of you work with a miraculous once I get to know you better and know which kwamii would fit to each of you — I do have quite many of them travelling with me, after all,” she said, and the smile playing on her lips was easy to hear from her words. Come the next words (and the jab at most of them), Tim also knew for sure there was a mischievous glint dancing in her eyes. “That, and the kwamii come up with alright costumes most of the time even if you have no idea how to design a good one yourself. The suits are much safer than yours, too, because again, magic . And god-given powers, quite literally.”
The little fairy — kwami, wasn’t it? ... she. Something. — settled herself on Marinette’s head while Marinette took out a small box from her purse, opening it. A bright light with a yellowish or orange hue appeared in front of her as another one of the kwamii took form. Marinette put on a necklace that looked like a fox’s tail, which honestly looked logical as it resembled the kwami as well — if they had something to do with each other, that is.
“Heya Marinette! What is it today? Ooohhh, there are more people to mess with today! The cat isn’t here, I see… Wait, is this the soulmate thing you and Chat discussed? Is one of them your soulmate? Do I actually get to meet him before any of the others do?” The fox looking kwami seemed excited and it was a little bothersome to realise how much the kwami reminded him of Bart. They would probably get along, if they ever got the chance to meet. Probably not.
“Well, Tikki met him already, but yes, you’ll get to gloat about this to Plagg, Wayzz, Mullo, Longg and the others. Except for Duusu, that’s forbidden. She’s not in a good enough mental state for that yet. But anyway, Trixx, Tim is my soulmate, the one that’s probably standing right behind me right now unless he actually somehow managed to stay still even in the presence of something new he doesn’t understand just yet,” she said and pulled out two cookies, handing one to each kwamii present. Tim flushed as he realised she knew exactly where he was and why he was there.
Marinette didn’t pay any attention to any of them anymore, only the kwami in front of her.
“Besides, you complained about not having gotten to patrol in a long while last night and as it seems they don’t hate the idea of a miraculous user here, yet anyway — not that it would stop me, honestly, you guys need to get out and be used sometimes and as the guardian, it’s kind of my responsibility —, they might even let me patrol with them and thus give you a chance to go around. Chaton and Plagg won’t be there, though, and I’m not going to tell him about them, so keep your mouth shut. I know you love knowing things others don’t, but you don’t get to tell them because then you won’t be able to keep the knowledge of more heroes to yourself, and I’d honestly rather have Chat and Plagg only know I’ve told my soulmate now so he’s free to tell his. Also, they—”, she pointed at his family, “—Get to keep their secrets, so there’s that too.”
It felt a little too familiar to hear Marinette call someone Chaton, and it irritated Tim to no ends to know that he knew the one Marinette had called Chaton earlier by name, but yet could still only connect it to Chat Noir and Chat Noir only.
Trixx flew around Tim’s head a few times until deciding on landing on top of it. The kwami started to eat the cookie, still there on top of his head, damnit, leaving cookie crumbles in his hair. “Hello there, Marinette’s soulmate! You seem rather interesting. Are you going to be trying to use one of us? It’s going to be so much fun seeing what kind of a hero you could become with our help!”
But, just as Tim was about to answer, an alarm went off in the cave. They all knew it was a villain attack, and soon all of them got notifications of said attack to their phones, computers, tablets, clocks, anything they had promised to carry around everywhere for this specific thing. Tim groaned and ran a hand down his face.
Not now, we don’t have time for this.
Even so, Tim ran off to put on his suit. There was a big chance Marinette would be coming along since she was, apparently, already used to villains (even if quite different from theirs), and he wanted to be there to see it.
At least Trixx let him leave without following.
⬷۵⤐
Marinette watched in wonder as everyone got a move on the second the alarm went off. It was so different from Paris. She hoped the civilians had more basic common sense than Parisians did, too, and would try to escape the danger zone instead of trying to get into it.
Barbara went to get a small piece of technology before wheeling to her. She took Marinette’s hand and pressed it on her palm. “Here. This is a comm. I want you to wear it when you’re out in the field at all times so you’ll be able to contact everyone, me included, at any time you need. They can also contact you if they’re in need of help or something. That, and I’ll be able to locate you at any point I want or need to, so yes, you have to use it,” she told her, but Marinette gave it back. Under Barbara’s rather scary and very unimpressed glare, she decided to give in. After all, she was — even bound to a wheelchair — one of the scariest of them. She was also one of Marinette’s favourites in the family and would probably admit this to any of them at any given time, so she reasoned that played a part in her decision as well.
“Fine, I’ll take it, but I need to transform first or it will disappear, though I’m pretty sure I could actually connect my own, safer communicator to yours,” she said before stepping back. “You might want to close your eyes, the light can be blinding. Tikki, spots on!”
Once the bright light went away, she got ready to unify Trixx and Tikki together. It would take her a lot of energy, but the stealth abilities Trixx came with were useful, as were the illusions, especially in a city such as Gotham, and Tikki, well, Marinette knew how to work with her the best, and the Miraculous Cure Tikki provided was the best thing ever since it could repair anything and everything if she was involved in it with the miraculous (and better yet, no one would need to pay for said repairs.) “Tikki, Trixx, unify!”
“Alright, I’m done now. I can take the comm now if you so insist,” she said, opening her palm and waiting for Barbara to hand it to her again. “You can call me Lady Vixen for now until I come up with a better name, Oracle.”
Oracle smiled at her and dropped the comm on Lady Vixen’s palm. She put it on, adjusting it until it no longer felt uncomfortable in her ear. Red Robin had just finished suiting up by then as well, and with a grin on his face, he stepped to her side. He brushed over her wrist with his fingers and she did the same to him, because even with their suits covering up the skin of their wrists, it made them more comfortable, more at ease, more focused. Happier. They turned to look at the rest of the family, waiting for the go-ahead since she still needed one from at least Batman.
After Batman nodded to her and smiled (which honestly was not a smile and looked more like a grimace, like seriously, Mr Wayne needed some help with how to smile), Nightwing gave her a bright smile (like, an actual smile, unlike Batman’s) and said, “Welcome to the team!”
She didn't reply, she knew she didn’t need to, and decided that swinging off with her soulmate was going to be enough.
Yeah, she was happy to be a part of the team, a part of the family.
Especially if her soulmate was going to be there for her and stay at her side through all of it.
____
@the-navistar-carol @kris-pines04 @thethirdwheelfriend @daminett4life
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nothingeverlost · 4 years
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Fic: Losing My Mind (Prologue)
Summary: When Benoit Blanc was summoned to the Thrombey mansion to investigate a gruesome murder he expected the blood, the grief, and to solve the case.  He didn’t expect to fall in love.  Marta Cabrera was kind, loved by her family, a good nurse, and friend.  She was also the murder victim. Things I don’t need: another WIP.  Things I feel compelled to write: the first scene of a WIP.  I’m blaming @maplesyrupao3 because this is really her fault.  Also @thestraggletag because I can’t actually transfer this telepathically. II
“Mr. Thrombey, I presume?”  He’d almost missed the road leading up to the house twice, the turn seemingly unmarked for good reason.  Unwanted visitors were heavily discouraged.  He’d been asked for his ID before entering the manor, and was led to a room that might be called a library or an office.  It was a room meant to tell a great deal about the man to whom it belonged.  It spoke of power, privilege, and an interest in violence, abate an academic one presumably.  The man behind the desk looked like he’d been born to sit in a room like this.
“Detective Blanc.”  He had the feeling of being measured and judged.  A slight nod seemed to infer that he’d been found at least somewhat acceptable.  Then again he was careful to present the proper image when he arrived at a new case.  He knew what people expected from him.
“It’s Mr. Blanc, if you please.  Or Benoit.”  His father had met Harlan Thrombey some decades ago, when Benoit had been a small child too young to be impressed by authors.  He spoke of the man with respect, which was the first reason he’d decided to come when he was called despite the fact he’d been just wrapping up another case.  The picture of the young woman was his other motivation.  She was young and had a kind smile.  She deserved justice.
“You don’t look much like your father.”  Harlan Thrombey stayed behind the desk.
“I take after my mama’s side of the family.  I learned a great deal from my father, though.  Hoped to be a great detective like him.”  His father had never risen through the ranks.  To this day he still wasn’t sure if it was because he’d been happy where he was or if he’d been too honest to play the political games necessary for promotion.  All that had mattered to his dad was finding answers and offering closure to grieving families.
“He was more than a detective.  He was a good man.”  Harlan picked up a cluster of keys and pushed them across the desk.  “These keys open every door in the house and on the grounds.  No place is restricted to you. My family has been instructed to come here tomorrow so you may speak to anyone you want.  I have the contact information for Detective Elliott and State Trooper Wagner; both have agreed to share information with you.  I am, of course, prepared to pay your fee and any additional expenses.  I want whoever did this found, Mr. Blanc.”
“There is a detective assigned to this case, Mr. Thrombey.  May I ask why you called me?”  It had been less than twenty-four hours since the murder.  He was used to being called when the original investigation had stalled, or in more private matters.  
“The average homicide detective, Mr. Blanc, is working eight point seven cases at a time.  I want someone whose only concern is finding out what happened to Marta.  I promised her mother she would have answers.”  For the first time the facade slipped, shoulders falling slightly, eyes cast downward.  The edges of Harlan’s voice was painted with grief.  
“She was shot here in your home, correct?  In most cases that means it was someone with access to your home; your family, friends, acquaintances.  I do not lie and I cannot be bribed.  Are you really prepared for any answer I find?”  Too often people did not actually want the answers his investigations turned up.  
“I have made mistakes in my life, some that I’ve only just begun to see.  If Marta paid the price for any mistake I made I need to know.  She was a friend, perhaps the one true friend I’ve had in many years.  I will do right by her.”  For a moment Harlan was lost to his memories.  “You will find out who killed her.”
“I will,” he promised without stopping to consider the matter.  He’d known before arriving at the mansion that he was going to take the case.
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ten-ten31 · 4 years
Text
Dear Yuletide Writer
Dear Yuletide Writer,
Thank you so much for writing for me! :) I can't tell you just how excited I am. This is my first Yuletide and I guess I'm super nervous, but also looking forward to it. :)
Please feel free to browse my ao3 (KitKaos) and/or tumblr to get an idea of what I stan, like, read or write. I hope I can give you some broad ideas and inspirations in this letter to help you plan. Do feel free to fall back on my general likes if the prompts don't do anything for you. Or just use the prompts, whatever works best for you. Oh, and should you, dear Yuletide Santa, want to write in German and not in English, then I'm definitely okay with that. I'm fluent in both, so whichever you feel more comfortable with. If there's something missing or if you have a question, you can reach out to me via the mods.
General likes: I'm a sucker for the old friends-to-lovers or even enemies-to-lovers (with all the drama of grudginly admitting that the other party maybe isn't all that terrible and all). Things I'll never get tired of include coffeeshop AUs, spy AUs, musical AUs, found families, fake dating, pining, crossdressing, drunken shenanigans, fish-out-of-water situations, pop culture references, etc. Just about any kind of scene you can sneak in there about cooking or eating food (also characters being picky about certains foods and other characters going to some lengths to accommodate that) will make me happy, too. I do have a thing for descriptions of food and expecially impressions of taste - and if you want to make it kinky: food play. ;) I also have a bit of a hand fetish - so descriptions of hands are always welcome. If you want to do it, I probably also won't say no to someone breaking the Fourth Wall, any kind of alternate history AU, crossovers of my fandoms, or even some lovely steampunk aesthetics.
Do Not Want: rape/dubcon/noncon, watersports, scat, humiliation, A/B/O, soulmates AU, vampire/werewolf AU, second-person pov, character bashing of any kind.
*
Fandoms
Just two more thing before I go into detail: 1. The prompts below are nothing more than ideas - feel free to ignore them if you have a better one. :) 2. Not all of the characters need to be used in every prompt; pick and choose as desired.
*
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Dial H for Hero (DC Comics)
- Summer Pickens, Miguel Montez
The 2019 12-issue run is just pure love! There is worldbuilding galore, relatable characters, a wonderful coming-of-age and initiation plot, interdimensional shenanigans, the question how Joe Average could get addicted to sudden superpowers, and so much fun with the concept of Superhero Secret Origins. Summer is a wonderfully strong and caring female lead and Miguel is a self-conscious little oddball.
As for prompts: Seeing more of their Metropolis adventures or Red/Yellow/Blue/Black Dial transformations would definitely be a lot of fun. Also, there's this cute boy Miguel asks out in the comics and I would love to see that first date. And what about Summer? She definitely won't be reduced to sidekick!
Feel free to include any other ((teenage) superhero) cameos you feel like. Please do not pair up Summer and Miguel romantically - although I don't have any problems with a fake relationship fic for them. ;)
Where to find it: Your trusted comicbook supplier.
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Masks: A New Generation (Roleplaying Game)
- any / worldbuilding
I only just disovered Masks as an RPG, and ever since I started playing, it's probably the most fun rping I've had in a long time. I love that playbooks are not by the type of power but the type of problem each teenager faces personally. Like, how do you juggle school, first love, being different in a way no one should know about, being different maybe in a way people will immediately see, adults telling you who to be, chores, and being part of a young superhero team that wants to make a name for themselves? It's hard. And the best sessions alternate between deep emotional connections, hilarious teenage drama and great action scenes.
As for prompts: I would love me some good worldbuilding - so maybe there is a reason the Scarlet Songbird is still around? What was Halcyon City like back in the days of the Golden-Age heroes? What has changed since then? How do especially the older generations view the naming conventions going around for new heroes? Is there a code to follow? Who in Halcyon City pays for all the damage to buildings and infrastructure caused by superhero-supervillain fights? What was it like back in the olden days for the Golden Age heroes as opposed to now?  Are there cultural exchange programs with any of the alien races visiting from time to time? Give me a day in the life of an average Halcyon City citizen - they don't even have to be all that close to an epic fight or something. Just their way of coping with the daily madness of a huge city housing most of the world's superheroes. If you like something a little more character-specific: The one actual-play podcast that does it best in my opinion are the Theatre of the Mind Players with their "Future Shock" and "Past Tense" seasons of Masks. And I would love to read more about these characters. Have Sparrow and Figment finally get together. Give me a glimpse of how Horizon assembled his ersatz mom. What will Helix and Remix get up to?
Where to find it: The core rulebook is available from Magpie Games. The Theatre of the Mind Players’ Masks sessions can be found on Youtube.
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Super Sons (Comics)
- Jonathan Samuel Kent, Damian Wayne
Super Sons is how I finally came to like and care for Damian Wayne - which, if you know me, is a major achievement! He is still a huge brat, don't get me wrong, but Jon's influence on him and the way he is confronted with certain issues he has... it's magical! It's wholesome! It's healing! They are both so fiercely protective of each other, and they both grow as characters from their experiences with each other.
As for prompts: So, dear Yuletide Santa, give me character growth and banter and friendship galore. I can see slumber parties at Wayne Manor or at the Kent farm. I can see them getting lost in space and time. I can see more adventures once they're at the same school. I can see a canon-divergence AU where Jon is finally admitted into the the Teen Titans at age 13 - how would that go? Or how about an Interrail Buddies AU?
If you want to write slashfic for them, I will not say no but would probably prefer to age them up a bit. I also most definitely don't mind any background appearances of any of their families.
Where to find it: Your trusted comicbook supplier.
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Superman Returns (2006)
- any (Clark Kent, Lois Lane, Jimmy Olsen, Richard White)
I still love this movie a lot - not because it's particularly spectacular, but it treats the characters with love, it treats the legacy of the Reeve movies with love and it leaves SO MANY questions for fanfiction authors to answer. ;) I mean, I've been a Superman fan for a long time and I've discovered that I'm most comfortable with a Clark who wears a mask both as Clark Kent and as Superman, who isn't either of those two (and who is fallible). And whenever someone learns of his secret identity, they will see that he's so much more than either Clark or Superman. I know Lois is a fairly underdeveloped character in this movie, so I would love for her to be treated not just as a prize, especially since there were those years of her having to put her life back together after Supes just up and left.
As for prompts, I've always wondered about the different coping mechanisms (Lois turning bitter, Jimmy starting up daydrinking - WTF?!) and just how their day-to-day business changed without Clark and Supes there. Give me the Planet staff banding together to rescue Lois when she remembers just that second too late that there will be no superhero to save them (I also wouldn't mind any of the Bats helping out secretly, if that's up your alley). Give me Jimmy trying not to think too much and instead getting on Lois' nerves until he's rescued by Richard intervening. I am also an absolute sucker for continuation fics, so how do things settle down after what happens in the movie? I would love for some real Clark and Jimmy bonding moments, maybe even Jimmy finding out or having known all along and covered for Clark. I would love for some truce and real friendship blossoming between Clark and Richard, as they are both intelligent, compassionate, insightful men. If you want to include Jason anywhere, feel free to do that, as he makes for such a wonderful catalyst for disaster. Feel free to write gen or any canon pairings - I'm also okay with non-canon het/slash pairs (or threesomes) as long as they make sense in-universe. ;)
Where to find it: Sadly, the movie doesn’t seem to be streaming anywhere, but since it’s 14 years old now, you can buy it relatively cheap.
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Young Justice (Comics)
- Tim Drake (but do feel free to have any of the other characters in the story, too)
No matter if you're into the old 1990s YJ comics, the companion comics to the cartoon show, or the new 2019/20 version of the comics - I love all of them! So much I don't even know where to begin... The snark! The lovable teenage stupidity! The friendship that goes above and beyond! My definite favourite is Tim, because he is such a bright, snarky, secretive, repressed little bird (the moment he takes off his domino mask to reveal a second one underneath? priceless)! I also love his deep friendship with the others because that's his found family. Yes, Batman is his mentor (even though Tim might understand B better than the other way round sometimes) and Dick is his older brother and idol (hero worship, anyone?), but Young Justice is where he wants to be himself and all of it.
As for prompts: Even though I did not put either Cassie or Cissie in my request as I want something Tim-centric, the dynamic with those two strong-willed girls is definitely something I would love to see explored more. Also how the dynamic with the bats is so very different than the Young Just Us dynamic. What's it like being the one without powers in a group of hormonal teenage superheroes? I also just realized that I would love to see more of Mister Sarcastic trolling the rest of the gang. Or how about: What if Tim had powers for one day? If you're into the 2019 comics, how about a 5+1 of Why Drake May Or May Not Be A Good Superhero Alias. If you want to include the rest of the gang, you're definitely more than welcome to. Tim and Kon's bickering and outright arguments in the beginning turning into such a solid friendship (or more) is something I can read about time and time again. Pretty much the same goes for Tim and Bart. Or how about some Wendy the Werewolf Stalker shenanigans? Why is having girls in your group a bad/good idea? How did Cassie's becoming the team's leader affect Tim's sense of self? Heck, if you feel like it, open up the love triangle Tim-Cassie-Kon since there's like a ton of history there. Oh, and anyway, why is Stephanie Brown never part of any of Tim's teams? Dear Yuletide Santa, do also feel free to include any of the other teens (I have a soft spot for Li'l Lobo/Slobo).
Where to find it: Your trusted comicbook supplier.
Overall, I’m sure I’ll love what you have for me, and I'm looking forward to reading it! <3
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runnfromtheak · 4 years
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fanfic author’s tagging game (yay!)
Thank ya darling for tagging me!!!! @boyblunder-thedarkheir!!!!!
AO3 Name(s): LostandLonelyBirds aka RUNNFROMTHEAK
Fandom(s): Primarily Batfamily (so, Dick Grayson) and Young Justice (along with DCU obviously, but I also dabble into Miralculous Ladybug, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Harry Potter, and MCU (none of which I will ever seriously write for? Idk man).
Number of fics: 22 I will admit to (how do you have so many, my dear @boyblunder-thedarkheir​? What is your secret?)
1. Fic you spent the most time on: Are we talking writing or thinking about writing, cause those are two very different answers. I spent the most time writing this bitch of a fic I’m working on right now, and the most time thinking about the two latest installments of my main series, Death is But An Illusion (aka How Could He and How Could It Be). I agonize over every goddamn detail with Dick’s anger, Jason’s Jason-ness, and every person’s every move and word. I am a mess, and I’m going to be murdered if I don’t update them soon. I am not sorry about that XD
2. Fic you spent the least time on:  You Came Behind Me Secretly and Shattered Every Piece of Me (There's Blood On My Hands) aka my pick-your-own-canon clusterfuck of Dark!Dick Grayson and Dick Grayson being traumatized and tortured with no comfort (Some of them are so fucked up I question my own mind). I take less than an hour to write 80% of them, cause they’re short, and they very rarely take any time to plan. Fun and easy!
3. Longest Fic: At present, he had a chest full of heart and a body full of scars (pain became the only way that he could ever learn)  is my longest, but the fic I’ve been hinting at on my other tumblr, @lostandlonelybirds​ is easily double the length (why do I do this to myself? Why am I like this?) the long boi (named one, not the one I won’t shut up about) is easily my best fic at the moment, and I’m so excited to write a sequel whenever I get the chance.
4. Shortest Fic: With Bated Breath and Pain You See (We're Nothing More Than Memories) technically, I have one shorter than that, but it’s a collab that wasn’t my original idea so I’m not counting it :)
5. Most Hits: You Came Behind Me Secretly and Shattered Every Piece of Me (There's Blood On My Hands) why do you people like this trash-fire so much? I don’t understand
6. Most Kudos:  How Could He which does not surprise me.
7. Most Comment Threads: Technically, How Could He followed by the trash-fire AU title thing I’m too lazy to type again, but I’m gonna love on this one: Just Close Your Eyes (No One Can Hurt You Now) because it’s my baby, and it deserves it okay?
8. Fave Fic You Wrote: Ooo we are doing a top five.
             5. How Could It Be (Jason is precious and sad and Dick is oblivious, and I love one-sided pining wayyyy too much)
             4.  How Could He (I put my life force into this stupid fic, so ofc it’s here)
             3. I'm Scared to Live But I'm Scared to Die (I'm Numb Inside) (the suicidal boy, major trigger warning)
             2. I See Things That Nobody Else Sees (And It's Slowly Killing Me)  (the only fic I’ve ever written from Cass’s perspective, and definitely one of the creepiest and most fucked up. Bruce does not look good here)
             1. he had a chest full of heart and a body full of scars (pain became the only way that he could ever learn) (so ummm Bruce doesn’t look good here either? RHATO #25 if DC wasn’t cowardly and let Dick react how he actually would, aka fuck Batman is the new motto)
9. Rewrites?: Fuck. All my older ones? Everything? Who knows.
10. Share a bit of your WIP or share a story idea that you’re planning:
Let’s do two. I’m nice.
First comes from How Could It Be:
“You loved him,” Donna says, ignoring his barb. “You loved him, and no one’s seen you or heard from you and I’m concerned, damnit.”
 She punches his shoulder roughly, and he’s reminded of her strength, no matter how small she seems in her dead best friend’s sweater.
 “I’m fine. Peachy-keen. Couldn’t be fuckin’ better. Honestly, you should be more concerned with Replacement, don’t think he’s slept in—”
 “Jason.” Her voice is firm, even as her eyes swim with tears and she holds her arms tight to herself, breathing in the well-loved item’s scent. Jason wonders when Dick wore it last, if Donna had taken it from his abandoned Gotham Penthouse or his Chicago Apartment. He wonders if he’d left it draped over the couch, like the natural disaster he was, or if it had been folded neatly in a drawer.
For someone who prides himself on not being sentimental, Jason suddenly wishes he had something of Dick’s too.
 “I’m here because I care, and because if Dick was here, he’d be doing the same thing I am.”
 “But he ain’t here,” Jason snaps, “Is he?”
 Donna’s head falls, and he feels like a giant jerk. He just… reacts poorly to that name, hasn’t heard it spoken since the transmission and subsequent funeral, since the guy he’d had the hots for since wearing the scaly panties had his mask ripped away and his life taken in front of Bruce’s eyes (who, to absolutely no one’s surprise, failed to save his son).
In the aftermath, no one said Dick Grayson’s name, always Nightwing, or some inane nickname the superhero community had for him. Last time he said it was to Damian, a failed attempt at comfort. But even Jason’s form of mutual grieving had been better than any of Bruce’s shit ideas. Bastard immortalized the ripped costume from his own son’s corpse (not that it had been the first time) and hadn’t even had the decency to give it a plaque (No ‘Good Soldier’ or ‘Good Son’, just a bare glass case with a bloody suit). Which… was weird. Jason was far from B’s best friend, but even he noticed something seemed strange, off, just not quite right. Like the funeral he didn’t speak at, like the breakdown none of them had witnessed beyond a one-off rage fit
“B, what the fuck happened down here?”
The Batcave was a disaster, dents glaringly obvious in several vehicles and a large spiderweb crack across the Batcomputer. Bruce closes the screen down, but Jason manages to catch a spiraling eye.
“Nothing, just…”
Bruce looks at the spare Nightwing costume none of them had taken down yet, still clean and ready for use (too bad its owner died and would never wear it again).
“Dick?” Jason questions, and the way Bruce’s eyes snap to his face is almost suspicious, almost enough to arouse concern.
“Yes. I—”
Jason sits next to Bruce on the desk, crossing his arms over his chest.
“I miss him too, Old Man. Don’t mean you need to be an ass about it.”
 A memorial next to Jason’s own, but Dickhead’s is empty and broken from Damian’s fists and grief, and Jason’s is just gone. No one told him why, it was just gone.
Kind of like Dick.
He wonders if Bruce would have told him if the video hadn’t been broadcast, if he would’ve told anyone. B did love his fuckin’ secrets.
 “No,” she whispers, and he can hear the tears in her voice, can feel her grief as keenly as his own. It’s palpable, tangible, “He’s dead, and I’m alive, and I don’t know how to handle it.”
 And then, to Jason’s mounting horror, she starts crying openly.
…..
Second comes from my one I’m working on rn with Stray!Dick called I See Sunset In Your Eyes (I Hate This Part Right Here)
“Come on,” Wally says with a pout, dragging an overly amused Jason and Dick with him through the karaoke bar doors. “Donna and Roy are waiting for us, and Dick had to take forever to primp.”
 Dick shrugs with a grin.
 “Beauty takes time, time I can tell you did not take.”
 Jason snorts, and Wally glares at him.
 “At least I don’t take five hours to finish getting ready.”
 “At least I can last longer than five minutes.”
 “Ouch!” Roy butts in, throwing an arm around Jason and Dick’s shoulders. “Claws are out tonight!”
 “Speaking from experience?” Jason asks, eyebrow raised.
 Dick smirks without comment, sauntering past the group towards the table Donna’s lounging at.
 “Hey gorgeous twin of mine,” He greets with a kiss to her eyes. She smirks, rolling her eyes at him.
 “You’re just stroking your own ego with the twin tacked on, Wonder Boy.”
 Dick bumps his shoulder against hers.
 “Can’t I stroke both our egos?”
 “You can stroke mine,” Wally mutters, turning red when Stray winks at his phrasing. Jason and Roy both facepalm, groaning. “Not what I meant guys!”
 “Why Kid Idiot,” Dick replies, hand on his heart, “I had no idea you could be so forward~!”
 Wally glares, waving over the waitress.
 “Round of shots, on this dick,” he jerks his thumb at Stray, offering up his fake ID. She doesn’t bother checking it, probably because this is Gotham, and they were all in uniform. “Whisky, please.”
 “Trying to get me drunk?” Jason jokes. It is, after all, his first big outing with the Titans for non-mission reasons. Stray had practically dragged him out of the Manor with a wink at Alfred and a middle finger for Bruce, saying that Jason needed to have fun outside of books.
Jason knows better than arguing with Dick Grayson-Kyle when he wants something, Stray trained him well.
 “Of course, Batboy,” Roy replies, “It’s not a Titans outing if Stray is fully dressed and everyone’s sober.”
 Dick shrugs.
 “You’ll have to get some real liquor in me if you want me to do anything like last time.”
 “Last time?” Jason asks, looking to Donna for an answer. Dick snorts. You get near naked one time…
 “Boy Blunder ended up in just his boxers in a dancing cage drunk of his ass. Everyone thought he was one of the strippers, and he made, what, three-hundred dollars in bills?”
 “Five-hundred,” Dick replies proudly, offering the waitress a twenty as she came back with their drinks. “Keep the change, darlin’!” He adds with a wink.
 She flushes, making Jason frown.
 Stray, of course, notices this and elbows Jason.
 “Don’t get jealous, Blue Jay, it’s not becoming.”
 Jason does not blush. He doesn’t, and that’s the hill he will die on.
 “I’m not. On an unrelated note, pass me a shot.”
Jason is the master of changing the subject, Stray thinks sarcastically, passing him a shot and downing one of his own.
 “Five bucks says alley cat blacks out,” Roy says smugly as Dick makes a face, the way he always did with heavier liquors. He glares at the redhead, who shrugs unapologetically.
 Donna eyes them both speculatively, taking a sip of her own drink.
 “Twenty says he gives a lap dance before he blacks out.”
 Roy snorts.
 “I’ll take it,” and to Dick, “Don’t do it, for me.”
 Dick bats his eyes innocently.
 “Lil’ old me? I would never do something so…” He trails a finger down Roy’s chest, making him swallow roughly. “Scandalous.”
 Donna grins victoriously as Roy groans, trying and failing to hide his excitement.
 “I hate you. I hate you both.”
 Tagging whoever sees this, I suppose? 
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northoftheroad · 5 years
Text
All about Alfred
I’ve come to realize I’ve got some mixed feelings about Alfred. One one hand, I love reading (and writing) his dry snark as much as the next person. 
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Nightwing vol 2 # 86. By Devin Grayson, art Patrick Zircher, Andy Owens and Sean Parsons.
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Nightwing # 141. By Peter J. Tomasi, art Rags Morales and Michael Bair.
Throwing away an empty dish to make a point to Bruce. Priceless. I mean, who can not love this chap?
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Batman/TMNT Adventures # 1. By Matthew Manning, art Jon Sommariva.
On the other hand, I think he gets far too much credit. Especially in fanfic. For one thing, it is not humanly possible for one person to take care of the Manor, the cave and everyone in it and, on top of that, bake cookies every day. (Anyone who has ever had an old house knows they are a lot of work, and the Manor and the cave are huge!)
More importantly, if Alfred had been an okay caretaker for Bruce, there wouldn’t be a Batman. 
Initially, of course, Alfred (then Beagle) came to the Wayne household after Dick. This was retconned after Crisis on Infinite Earths (1985–1986). Since then, Alfred Pennyworth has raised Bruce after the murder of his parents. And clearly, failed at helping the boy to heal mentally. 
Dark Victory has a nice panel where it’s clear he feels he failed Bruce when he was a child, and that he want to do better with Dick.
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Dark Victory. By Jeph Loeb, art Tim Sale.
It should also be noted that Alfred originally was nothing like the competent and sassy character we know today. He was more of a blundering, comical figure and when he managed to solve a crime, it was down to pure luck. 
To be fair, Alfred has, at times, questioned Bruce.
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Nightwing vol 2 # 53. By Devin Grayson, art Rick Burchett and Rodney Ramos.
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Batman Chronicles: The Gauntlet. By Bruce Canwell, art Lee Weeks.
But what Alfred mostly does is enabling Bruce, and his taking children into the war on crime. He can be passive-aggressive all he wants, as long as he tidies up the Manor and the cave and cooks and takes the kids to school, he is still making it possible for Bruce to spend his life as Batman – with sidekicks – fighting crime in tights.
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Detective Comics # 523. By Gerry Conway, art Gene Colan and Tony DeZuniga.
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Batman # 340. By Gerry Conway and Roy Thomas, art Gene Colan and Adrian Gonzales.
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Batman vol 3 # 58. By Tom King, art Mikel Janín. 
Once, Alfred actually had enough and left Bruce. Not because he kicked Dick out and told him to leave the key, not when he let younger teenager Jason become Robin shortly after he deemed the position too dangerous for Dick, not when Jason was killed, not when he fired Tim and made Stephanie a very temporary Robin, or any other time when Bruce has been an ass to one of his fellow humans.
No, the tipping point for Alfred is when Bruce does not take care of himself.
In Batman # 440, when Bruce is shattered after Jason’s death and is careless and gets hurt a lot, Alfred threatens to leave. ”I do not intend to spend the rest of my life playing nurse.”
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Batman # 440. By Marv Wolfman and George Pérez, art Jim Aparo and Mike DeCarlo.
Now, we all know that Tim turns up and becomes Robin, and Batman needs a Robin, so things look up for a period. However, Alfred finally carries out his threat to leave during Knightfall. Once again, the reason is that he thinks Bruce is self-destructive. After Bane broke his back, Bruce and Alfred travel to the Caribbean and England to search for Jack Drake and Shondra Kinsolving, Bruce’s physical therapist and current love interest. Finally, while in England, Alfred has had it with Bruce’s refusal to rest and recuperate; he resigns.
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Shadow of the Bat # 31. By Alan Grant, art Bret Blevins.
Incidentally, you didn’t think that Bruce actually would search out Alfred and have a heart-to-heart about this, did you? Didn’t think so. (In Dick’s words, Bruce has too much respect for Alfred even to try to find out where Alfred went. Not unlike how Bruce wants to respect Dick’s wishes to have nothing to do with the family after he was shot in the head, recently. Now, you can discuss if this is respect or emotional cowardice. But that is another story.)
Of course, it’s Dick who goes to London and talks to Alfred. Possibly Dick wants him back because he doesn’t want to be stuck cooking, washing, and taking care of the Manor again, as he did when he and Tim were Batman and Robin in Knightfall Prodigal…
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Batman # 513. By Doug Moench, art Mike Gustovich and Romeo Tanghal.
Anyway, the Alfred and Dick duo averts an anti-European Union terrorist attack and a military coup in the United Kingdom. In the end, Alfred goes back to Gotham.
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Nightwing: Alfred’s Return. By Alan Grant, art Dick Giordano.
Alfred also leaves Wayne Manor another time, this time on Bruce’s order, to live with Tim at his boarding school Brentwood Academy. He leaves Tim and returns to Gotham when Bruce is accused of murder in ”Bruce Wayne: Murderer”.
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Robin # 98. By Chuck Dixon, art Pete Woods and Andrew Pepoy.
Now, I’m not saying that he didn’t have his priorities right, in this instance. But Bruce always comes first, second, third and fourth for Alfred. The Manor probably takes a measly fifth place.
This boils down to that Alfred is a flawed character. Which is good, right? It makes him more relatable and interesting. He can be cool and sassy and still have done a poor job of helping Bruce to heal after his parents’ murder, and he lets Bruce get away with far too much in his relationship with the family. I still have a lot of love for Alfred. I’m just a teeny bit annoyed when he is put on a pedestal. 
And damn it, Bruce. Get some more hired help to take care of Wayne Manor. At least hire a few gardeners and take in some cleaning staff. Alfred isn’t getting any younger, you know...
This blog post is dedicated to Lightsider, who has written some of my favourite Batman/Young Justice the tv version-fics (do give them a try, you’ll find them on fanfic.net and AO3). It was exchanging comments about one of them that I got the idea to write this.
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scandalsavagefanfic · 5 years
Note
WAtGP Jason and Tim?
Yay!!! First We’re All the Gods’ Playthings ask!!!!
You don’t need to have read the fic to read this (though it’s probably one of my better written and certainly better planned stories). All you have to know is that Tim is the God of Wisdom, Bruce is the God of Truth and Justice. Jason doesn’t know that either is a god. And Jason is special but he doesn’t know it. Actually you can probably read this without any context just as cute little stand alone fic.
Have Jason and Tim’s first date! I was going to do their dream hook up but this felt more important and I wanted me some sweetness and pre-Dick/Nightwing Jason in the real world.
200 Followers Celebratory Prompt-A-Thon
Follow link for options and guidelines!
We’re All the Gods’ Playthings: God of Wisdom!Tim/Jason
Words: 977 (it’s hopeless, a losing battle)
Rating: Holy shit guys… I think this is actually Gen…
First Date
Jason throws yet another shirt to the growing discard pile onhis bed and huffs in frustration at the quickly dwindling options remaining.
He can’t believe he asked that detective out. And he’s evenmore surprised he followed through after Tim gave him his number and set up adate.
This is way outside his comfort zone. He’s dated a little inthe past but he’s always been more focused on other things, school, college, medschool, work. And he’s never been the pursuer before. Not that Tim’s the firstperson he has thought about asking out… he’s just the first person Jason managedto work up the courage to talk to.
He tugs on a soft green sweater and immediately feels alittle more comfortable. He should have just started with this one. It was agift from Bruce so it’s nicer than most his other clothes and it still smellslike the manor which makes him feel safe and calms a bit of his anxiousness.
Still, he finds himself half hoping the hospital calls withan emergency. Then he feels like a jerk for thinking something so terrible.
He glares murderously at his phone on the nightstand when itstarts to ring. He wasn’t serious… he’s just nervous.
When he sees the caller I.D. he relaxes.
“Hey Al,” he says cheerfully, sitting on the edge of the bedand pulling on his shoes.
“Good evening, Master Jason,” Alfred says, sounding pleasedto be speaking with him despite the always proper façade, “Master Bruce wouldlike to inquire about your dinner plans. He’s in the city late and will bestaying at the penthouse tonight. He wonders if you would be interested in joininghim for supper to ‘catch up.’”
Jason smiles at the audible air quotes in Alfred’s tone ashe says a phrase that is clearly one he’d never use on his own. Jason would loveto hang out with Bruce. It’s been weeks since they’d had the chance to ‘catchup’ but Bruce always has the worst timing.
“I’d love to Alfie, really, but… tonight’s not a good night.”
“Ah. You work too much, Master Jason. If you are not careful,your youth will pass you by.”
That’s fair. In the past his refusals have always been becauseof school or work.
“Actually. It’s not work this time. I… uh… have a date.”
To Alfred’s credit, he recovers quickly and gracefully fromwhat must be a great surprise.
“How wonderful! I hope the person in question is everything youdesire.”
“Uh… thanks, Al,” Jason’s nose wrinkles and his cheeks warm atthe phrasing.
“I will relay your regrets to Master Bruce. Have a verypleasant evening, young man.”
He smiles. Bruce only calls him ‘young man’ when he’s scoldinghim. But Alfred only uses it in affection.
“Good night, Alfred.”
Jason squares up to the mirror ashe ends the call and takes a deep breath. He actually feels a lot moreconfident after the chat.
 That confidence is chased away as they pull up to the date Jasonplanned. He’s never had to be the one responsible for deciding the activity. Andhe’s suddenly second guessing it.
Tim, who’d insisted on picking Jason up and driving, gives himan indulgent little smirk as he parks. “Fascinating choice,” he says kindly.
Jason’s so stupid. This is not first date material. This is probably ‘don’t-even-go-there-when-you’re-married’material.
“I’m so sorry,” he says, the words coming out in a rush, “I…after our conversation at the hospital, I thought you might find it interesting.I… it never crossed my mind that—”
“Jason, it’s fine,” Tim smiles at him, voice calm andreasonable, “This is exactly my kind of thing.”
“Oh… good…”
They both sit there awkwardly for a moment. They’re a littleearly. Jason looks at the poster in the window of the bookstore, the one advertisingthe reading by the modern philosopher they’re here to ‘enjoy.’
“I have to admit,” Tim starts easily and Jason immediately worriesthat the awkwardness is all on his end, “I’m surprised you like this guy.”
“Oh! No… I… I don’t know that agree with him, not about mostthings anyway. I just… I just think he’s…” he pauses. How does he explain thisto Tim?
“Thought-provoking?”
For the first time tonight, Jason is able to turn and meetTim’s sharp, grey-blue eyes. Offers his own genuine smile in return for Tim’sunderstanding one.
“Yeah. The way he sees the world… it’s such a different perspectivethan I’ve ever considered before.”
“Perhaps for good reason.”
“Maybe… but I don’t like dismissing something I don’tunderstand. I don’t think that helps anyone in the long run. There’s a kind ofwisdom in understanding where people are coming from, how they come to thinkthe things the do, feel the way they do… doubly so when you don’t agree withthem…”
Jason snaps his mouth shut when he notices Tim staring athim like he’s never seen anything like him before. Jason’s face and ears get hot and he knows he’s blushing a furiousred.
“Don’t stop,” Tim encourages, smile getting brighter andwider, “A philosophical debate is my idea of a perfect date.”
Jason grins despite himself, takes a deep breath, andplunges forward.
They never make it to the reading. Tim orders a pizza on hisphone and has it delivered to the parking lot. They sit in the car long afterthe bookstore has closed, chatting easily, taking turns playing devil’s advocate.
He’s reallytempted to ask Tim up to his apartment. But he doesn’t want to ruin things bymoving too fast.
Still, he doesn’t stop grinning the whole time he gets readyfor bed and it remains as his head hits the pillow and he closes his eyes.
He hopes he sees Tim in his dreams.
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maychorian · 5 years
Note
Hey, so, i hope you're not bothered or annoyed by this, you can really just ignore me if you are... I just wanted to know if you could tell us about the future of yofa, bc I'm a shitty reader and too obsessed by your fic to sit and wait for the next chapter, although you're so amazing and super fast with the uploads. Like, is mcdaniels gonna play a role, or will tim have breakdowns or fights with the others, or anything else that would be okay to share? I'm really sorry for being like this
Ha, you're not annoying. I'm quite pleased to know that I have readers who are impatient for more, truly. The problem is that I don't really have answers for you, because I don't know. I've talked about this on my blog before, but I am very much a seat-of-the-pants kind of writer, or a gardener. I don't make outlines, because it's not fun for me to write like that. When I write a long, detailed outline, I lose all interest in actually writing the story, because it feels like I've already done it. It becomes work instead of play at that point, and fanfiction is very much my playtime.
I like to plant ideas and watch them grow, or dig the story up from the dirt of the subconscious like a big boulder (Stephen King's analogy for how he writes). One of my favorite writing quotes is about how writing a novel is like driving a car at night--you can only see as far as the headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way. I believe that's from E.L. Doctorow, and I don't know who that is, but I agree with that philosophy.
This has the downside of me having tons of WIPs that will probably never be finished, at least one in every fandom I've written more than a one-shot for. But the upside is that I have a lot of fun writing, and I go through the same emotional rollercoaster as my readers. I often feel compelled to keep writing because I want to know what happens next, just like you do.
That's also why I don't have an update schedule. That would require me to have, like, a backlog of chapters, or at least some idea of what's happening next. I tend to write a chapter over the course of three or four hours, give it a cursory reading for typos, and post it immediately. I usually only figure out what the next chapter is going to be about after cogitating on the last one I wrote for a few days. Right now, I'm thinking that the next chapter will be about Tim's friends visiting him at the manor, but I need to read more Young Justice before I feel comfortable writing Conner, Bart, and Cassie, so it might be a while before that chapter comes out. Or I could realize that something else needs to happen first, as has happened several times over the course of the story.
I do have...vague ideas about what might be up ahead in the future. Someday. Maybe. These ideas might or might not happen, or they might be in a different form by the time I get to them. I'll put them under a read more, just in case anyone wants to avoid even possible spoilers.
Edit: Frigging heck, tumblr won’t save the read more line. Whatever, if you don’t want to see possible spoilers, hit J on your keyboard now.
As for McDaniels, he will be returning to the story, but I'm not sure when. It might be at the end, as some sort of catharsis for Tim, or it might be in the middle as part of a plot complication. For now he's too much of a useful motivation for Tim to have anxiety and Jason to want to protect him, therefore keeping Jason in the picture when he might otherwise take off. The family and their allies will keep looking for him, and it's going to be a major frustration and source of friction that he's so hard to find. I definitely have a picture in my head of Tim going out in the city for the first time since the incident and thinking he sees McDaniels, then having an anxiety attack that Jason or someone else will have to comfort him through. That idea has been in my head since very early in the writing process, but who knows if it will happen.
Tim having breakdowns? Very probable. Fights? Maybe. Eventually he and Dick do need to work out the hurt between them. But Dick has promised to let Tim take the lead on that, so it will have to be on his terms, and I don't know when Tim will be ready for that conversation.
I have ideas about Damian. I'm thinking that Tim is going to be very bored, waiting for his body to heal enough that he can do things again. He can't even exercise until his ribs and knee heal up some, he can't swim with his casts, he can only type with one finger, and that kind of hurts...all he's going to be able to do for a while is sit around and watch TV or listen to Jason read to him, and that's going to get old, fast. So he might take an interest in Damian. Damian is puzzling, and Tim likes to solve puzzles. It remains to be seen whether or not Damian will appreciate the attention. Probably not.
But Damian's feelings are evolving, too. He hasn't been in prolonged contact with Tim...ever. And he has promised to be civil, as well. It's going to force them to find new ways to communicate, new ways to be around each other. Jason might also be helpful for bridging the gap there, since he spent time with the League and will probably understand Damian in a way no one else does.
Also, bored Tim results in Jason taking him on rides on his motorcycle. Great bonding. Tim likes to go fast.
Once the casts come off and the pins comes out, Tim's hands are going to be very weak and shaky. He's going to need a lot of therapy, and it's going to be frustrating and painful. Also: hand massages help. (Dick is also going to keep treating his back, trying to minimize the scarring from the whip marks. Because it really, really sucks for a teenage kid to have whip scars.) So they're all going to take turns massaging Tim's hands when they get cramped, and it's going to turn out that Damian is the best at it. Damian is going to be territorial about this, because it's something tangible he can do that is visibly helping, and as much of a brat as Damian is, he also has the heroic, helpful impulse as well. Once the dust settles and Damian and Tim are more like friends and brothers than they have been in the past, Damian will be just as protective of Tim as everyone else in this story. That's the end goal I have for them.
One thing that will happen relatively soon is Bruce enacting a Big Comfy Couch Protocol, or BCCP for short, in order to be a better dad to his children, all of whom have trauma of varying levels. When one of the kids is having a bad day, or feeling fragile, or suffering nightmares or flashbacks or what have you, or just needs their dad for whatever reason, all they have to do is tell Bruce that they need to activate BCCP, or BCC Protocol. Bruce will nod seriously, then set aside at least an hour in his schedule. And they will go sit together on a big comfy couch in a quiet room, just the two of them. It might involve cuddling, or talking, or just being together, whatever the kid needs. But it'll be just the two of them, no work, no books or movies, no distractions. Because Bruce needs to be very deliberate about connecting with and being there for his kids, and putting a structured protocol in place to make sure that happens is a very Batman thing to do.
Tim will probably drag Jason along for his BCCP time, because of the bodyguard thing. (And because Jason would never do it for himself, and Tim knows he needs it and is not even a tiny bit above manipulation to get his way or help other people.) Eventually they're all gonna like it, though.
And...that's pretty much it, so far. I think about this story a lot, so new ideas pop up and float away in my head all the time, but they're mostly about what's going to happen or might happen in the next chapter. Like, I imagined the conversation between Jason and Bruce going a bunch of different ways. Once I actually sat down and wrote it, though, it turned out differently than anything I'd come up with in my head before.
And that's why I like writing this way. It's always surprising. I let the characters go, and they do things I don't expect ninety percent of the time.
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eternityunicorn · 5 years
Text
Elijah’s Eternity Part Five +18
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Author: eternityunicorn 
Genre: Romance/Fantasy/AU
Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x OC
Warnings: Violence, Language, Smut (will mark smut chapters as +18 next to fic title at top)
Summary: Elijah Mikaelson didn’t know what to expect when he encountered the strange archer in the night, but he certainly didn’t think his whole world would be turned upside down by it. Yet, he quickly learns that she is more than what she seems, having come looking for an Original after a large spike in supernatural being populations started cropping up on Earth a thousand years ago. Now, he must help her decide if the supernatural community should stay on their home planet or leave it for good? A task that is made more complicated along the way, as his life is changed forever.
NOTE: OC is the main character from my upcoming book. There will also be elements from my book too. So, it's a fanfic with original elements.
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Elijah lead Eternity back they way they came, until they arrived at the doorstep of the old manor in which he was staying. Victorian in style, the place was in decent condition, painted white with black shutters on all the windows. It had tall columns at the entrance with a wraparound porch. He owned the manor legitimately, one of many properties that belonged to him. After all, when one is constantly on the move, it was good to have legitimate a place to stay when need be.
He held Eternity’s hand in his as he helped her up the steps like a gentleman. She smiled at him  appreciatively. She gazed at the outside, admiring it, as he unlocked the front door that had been painted black like the shutters. Then he swung the door open and side stepped to let her inside first. Eternity went in and as Elijah entered after her, he saw the wonder in her eyes as she gazed up at the large crystal chandelier, and then downward at the marbled flooring, and after that, at the elegant staircase that lead to the upper part of the manor. 
It was amusing to him since surely she had known far grander places than this shabby little place.  She was a queen after all. No doubt she had a grand palace or castle somewhere out there amongst the stars. Speaking of which, he didn’t even know where she lived exactly in the greater cosmos. Though, really, he didn’t think it mattered. She was there on Earth...with him.
“This place is amazing,” admired Eternity, bringing Elijah back to the present. 
“Yes, it is,” he replied, placing the key he had used to unlock the manor on the side table by the door, as he closed said door behind them simultaneously. Then he shoved his hands casually in his pants pockets and moved smoothly to her side. “I’ve had the place since the 1890’s or so,” he told her casually. “I acquired it when the original owner died suddenly.”
Eternity paused in her admiration and eyed him suspiciously.
“It had been natural causes, I assure you. You can check my thoughts if it makes you feel better.”
She looked at him thoughtfully, as if considering doing so. Then she smiled slightly, folding her hands girlishly behind her back, “I don’t need to read your mind. I believe you.”
Elijah grinned in return, his heart swelling with joy that she was so easy to believe him. Though the event in question had been a long time ago and it was true what he said, she still could have mistrusted him. She hadn’t any real reason to trust him fully, not have just meeting him. Yet, she was giving him the benefit of the doubt, for the second time actually.
Eternity hadn’t judged him harshly for feeding on that young woman at the diner. Something she could have done easily, especially since she would have executed those vampires she had dealt with even if their victims had still been alive. Instead of executing swift justice upon him, she had understood and even gave him praise for leaving the girl alive. It probably had something to do with the fact that she had been actively seeking him out, wanting his services, that had caused her to hesitate with him.
“It’s so much more than that,” Eternity answered his thoughts again, a small smile upon her pink lips. “I’ve grown fond.”
He was taken aback by the suddenness of her admission. The boldness of caught him off guard a bit. He did recover quickly however, never even showing the effect of her words on his face. He grinned almost sheepishly at her, but she was a.ready returning to her admiration of his place.
Vampires had the capacity for feeling emotions more strongly and even more quickly than other species. It could be damn well near instant for them, feelings like love or friendship or any sort of attachment really. He definitely felt something profound for Eternity, a connection with her. Perhaps, it was the same for her. Maybe she was feeling the same way.
Still, he chose not to say anything, not having to since she could read his thoughts and probably already had anyway. Therefore, she was most likely aware of what he was feeling. Instead of hanging on feelings, he moved on and directed her through the entryway back to the large open kitchen. 
The stainless steal of the high end appliances gleamed and the dark garnet countertops gleamed under the recess lighting. The light marbled flooring remained unchanged. On the other side of the room, there was a grand, but small in kitchen dinning area with another, smaller crystal chandelier hanging over a vintage cherry oak table. There was fine china already set at all four places, ready for dinner guests at any time. 
Eternity seemed just as impressed with this part of the manor as the entryway. She moved around in her silent floating sort of way, looking over every detail as if she hadn’t been inside a modern house before. Maybe she hadn’t. What did he know?
“I’ve been in plenty of houses,” she called to him, having read his thoughts, “It is simply an impressive dwelling. You must be proud.”
He smiled at her as he moved behind the counter of the kitchen, getting to work on making a meal for them. He began pulling various ingredients out of the cupboards and the refrigerator, moving about in a familiarized fashion. He glanced up at her now and again as he busied himself, watching her through his eyelashes as she gazed curiously at him as he went about his task.
“When you said you would make the arrangements, I didn’t realize that you were going to be playing chef,” she teased him, good-natured. 
He smirked slightly as he worked on cutting up some green and red peppers in preparation for making fajitas. “Yes well, there’s probably a few things about me that you didn’t already know, like the fact that I enjoy cooking.”
“A vampire that cooks. Can you even eat that?” She nodded to the vegetables he was chopping up finely. 
Elijah’s brows furrowed, “Of course. I may need human blood to live, but I otherwise function as a human does, at the very least when it comes to food. I might not need it to survive, but I do surely enjoy the taste. Didn’t you know that already?”
“I must admit, I didn’t get all the details of how your kind works, in my dealings with them,” she said as she came over to lean on the countertop in front of him. “Besides, the vampires of old are different. They were born as they are; bloodsucking parasites. Animalistic and certainly baser than the ones of your community. They only feed on blood and not just human, but other immortals as well. It grants them more power, if they feed on one of their fellow immortals. They certainly cannot change a human or anyone else into one of them, as you and yours can.”
She said that with such disgust it caused Elijah momentarily felt offense by her calling his kind ‘bloodsucking parasites’, but then he remembered that these were different vampires than the ones of the supernatural community, a different breed of his species; the true originals. Though they bared no relation. Knowing that helped the offense he felt wash away, believing that she didn’t think of the new breed of vampires in that way.
“No, I don’t and perhaps, I shouldn’t have called the old vampires that either. Forgive me,” Eternity replied to his thoughts.
Elijah shrugged it off and continued his work in the kitchen, moving on to slicing up the flayed steak. He paused as something occurred to him. “Do you eat meant, Eternity? I was just wondering since you are a -.”
“It’s fine,” she interjected. “It’s perhaps strange, but meat products don’t bother me. Maybe it’s the hunter in me - the warrior.”
He nodded, and then carried on with his cooking.
It didn’t take long for the delightful fragrance of sautéed bell peppers and steak floated up into the air, the sound of sizzling food echoing around the kitchen pleasantly. Elijah heard her sigh in delight, which made him smile to himself, something that she couldn’t see since his back was turned from her while he used the stovetop. 
Once the fajita mix was finished, Elijah pulled a bag of tortillas out of the cupboard by the refrigerator. As he did so, he invited Eternity to sit at the small dinning table while he placed the fajita inners and the tortillas on small serving plates. In the time that it took her to sit down as he requested, he was already at her side with the delicious food he had prepared, putting the plates he carried elegantly down in the center of the table. Then with that same elegance, Elijah sat across from her. 
He politely invited her to the food, holding out the plate of tortillas to her and then the one with fajita inners. Once she was settling into her dinner, Elijah filled his own plate. Then they feel into a companionable silent, each of them enjoying the food and the company. He couldn’t help but watch Eternity take her first few bites, enjoying the way she closed her eyes and hummed in pleasure. It made him smile with pride, glad that she liked what he had prepared. 
Eternity finished the food on her plate first and once she was finished, she dabbed her mouth delicately with a silk napkin that had been beside her plate. He followed suit and casually rested his arm on the table, sitting back in the chair to quietly observe her. 
It was already established that she was beautiful, gorgeous even. She was fascinating and strange and a wonder. He couldn’t help but be in awe at all times. Yet, for the first time since meeting, did he really take her in, having been too caught up in the mystery of her. 
Eternity was very young looking, despite being thousands of years old. Physically, she looked to be about the age of eighteen. She was youthful, but her sapphire eyes were full of wisdom. They were mature and ancient, a complete contrast to the childlikeness to the rest of her. 
It was strange. While technically she was older than him, physically speaking, he appeared to be the older party. He was used to being the older person, the one with more wisdom and experience. Yet, with Eternity, that wasn’t the case. 
“This was very good,”Eternity praised with gentle enthusiasm, pulling him from his thoughts. “You are a marvelous cook, Mr. Mikaelson.”
“Thank you,” Elijah smiled. “I do try my best.”
“So, what now?” 
“Well, I do keep a collection of wines, neatly organized by year, in the cellar,” he suggested. “Every good dinner needs a good wine to go with it. May I offer my lady some?”
“Aye, that would be wonderful.”
“Good. Excuse me a moment.”
Elijah rose fluidly from his seat and went out of the kitchen, moving toward the nook just on the other side of the wall where the refrigerator was located. He opened the door soundlessly, heading down the dark flight of stairs without turning the light on since it was unnecessary. His eyes adjusted to the blackness, letting him see clearly as he moved to the extensive wine racks toward the back of the cellar. There were other selves lining the walls that held other kinds of alcohol, such as his favorite kind: bourbon. 
He browsed his wine collection, something he prided in. He always kept one in every place he owned around the world. Finding an excellent bottle of Merlot amongst the various red and white wines, Elijah made his way back to his lovely guest, whom was waiting patiently for him. He hoped that she would like his choice, confident that she would.
When he came back into the kitchen from the cellar, Eternity wasn’t sitting at the table where he had briefly left her. Instead she was standing at the large sliding door that went out onto a deck. She didn’t seem to hear him come back. Whatever was captivating her outside had her full attention. 
Curious, he placed the wine on the dinning table and went to her side. He noticed her brows were furrowed and there was a tension in her body, as if she were on edge, ready to fly or fight. 
“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asked her softly.
Eternity didn’t look at him as she answered, “It is nothing, just shadows.”
Her voice was monotone, as if distracted or entranced by whatever she was staring at. Elijah peered out the window to see if he could detect what was so interesting, but he couldn’t see a thing, not even with his vampire sight. It was just dark and shadowy, nothing unusual.
Then she took a deep breath and turned away from the window, becoming animate again, as if she hadn’t been staring out the window. Eternity smiled softly at his look of concern, “Forgive me, I suppose I’m simply always on the look out for enemies. They are always hunting me, usually wanting vengeance or as I said, they are dark creatures attracted to the light - my light.”
“I can understand that,” he responded and then amended, “Well, not the light part. I don’t think such a thing exists in me anymore, but the constant vigil for enemy attacks? I can certainly understand that.”
“There is light in all, even you, but sometimes the darkness outweighs the light in us, making it hard to see.”
Elijah was doubtful of her words. He didn’t have light in him. It had been snuffed out long ago. Too much blood, death, heartbreak, and general Mikaelson mayhem in his life for there to be any light. No, he was just the Noble Elijah, living by an honor code in pretense to the horror - pretending to be more than a monster.
“Oh, Merlot,” Eternity exclaimed, pulling Elijah out of his bitter thoughts. “Excellent.”
He hadn’t even noticed her move away from him, so wrapped up in them. Pulling himself together, more than happy for a distraction from those particular thoughts, he gave her a small grin. “Agreed,” he nodded, noticing her examining the bottle at close range; the big bottle dwarfing her small hands. He sidled up to her smoothly, “Here, allow me.”
Taking the bottle gently from her, Elijah opened it with a pop, and afterwards, grabbed two of the wine glasses that had been set at the table. He filled the glasses with the blue tinted wine, handing one to her first, while keeping the other for himself, of course. Eternity sipped the wine and hummed in pleasure of the taste, as she had done with the food. He watched her over the rim of his own glass as he too sampled the wine, stepping a little closer to her unconsciously as he did. He was enthralled by her. 
“This is delicious,” he commented casually of the wine.
“Aye, it is,” she agreed.
He took one more sip, before he suggested that they moved to a more comfortable part of the manor. He held out his hand to her in the same way she had to him when she showed him her true form. She smiled fondly at him, putting her hand in his and letting him lead her out of the kitchen. He guided her down a corridor to the left where the open common room was located. 
This room had rich carpets and dark paneled walls. The place was furnished with a couple of vintage couches and a small table by a large window that had a bottle of bourbon on it with a couple of unused tumblers. There was a large, unlit fireplace with an ornate mantel too. Eternity offered to light it, doing so by a magic in which she didn’t have to let go of his hand or recite any incantation. She simply looked at the fireplace for the briefest moment and it roared to life. 
“Now, you’re just showing off,” Elijah quipped, leading them to the couch facing the fire, before finally releasing her hand and inviting her to sit down.
Eternity did so with her typical floating grace, perching herself on the edge of the couch cushion, as Elijah sat beside her in a more relaxed fashion. He sat back with his arms spread across the back of the couch, wine glass in one hand while casually tapping the fingers of his other hand rhythmically on the furniture’s surface. He drank the wine and watched the fire of a moment, enjoying the atmosphere. Frankly, it had romantic feel to it, just as the atmosphere of their walk around the small Maine town. 
Soon, Elijah’s attention fell upon the woman at his side. The room wasn’t lit, save for the low light of the fire. Therefore, there was nothing but darkness around them, save for that single source. The light danced on Eternity’s features, casing shadows upon the unblemished surface of her face. Her long white hair hung around her shoulders, while also running down her back where it disappeared underneath her, blending in with her white dress. It was one of the few times her hair didn’t move continuously like ocean waves; though it did ripple slightly with each little movement she made. It looked soft, like her skin.
Elijah wondered if it was like silk and had the briefest impulse to move closer, so that he could run his fingers through her locks. His unoccupied hand itched to follow through. He curled his hand to keep himself from his impulse, unsure if it would be acceptable. 
After all, he had only met Eternity a day or so ago. For all intensive purposes, he shouldn’t have felt so strongly an attraction, so quickly, something he was already aware of. But as he sat their quietly observing her, the feeling made itself aware to him, more so than at any other point before. It was insane to feel like that, to desire someone that fast, even by vampire standards. Their time together had been incredibly brief so far, he didn’t even know how she felt, if she felt it too - the attraction. Hell, he really didn’t know anything about her, except that she was a unicorn, a queen; an incredibly gifted and powerful immortal. 
Sure, he had had meaningless affairs in the past, quick moments of passion that died nearly as quickly, in which he felt attraction immediately and acted upon it without getting to know the other person beyond their physical attributes. But those times were different, because those quick affairs demanded the level or respect as Eternity did. She deserved more than a single night of passion with a casual acquaintance. In fact, thinking on it, he wanted to give her more than that, but certainly that meant that there was a certain pace that these things should take, not incredibly slow necessary, but also not so quickly. Not with her. 
So, as he sat there near her as he was, Elijah tried to restrain the passion inside him, attempted to lull it for the time being. But the quiet, romantic atmosphere made it incredibly hard on him to do so. Every impulse cried for him to follow through, to see how silky Eternity’s hair really was, to feel how soft her pink tinted lips were beneath his own, to feel her small body against him. Yet, he tried to quell his instincts, to test the limits, to take what he wanted.
Elijah watched as she tipped back the wine glass she had been holding and gulped down the liquid heartily in one go. She stared down at the empty glass contemplatively, as if she were in deep thought. Immediately, he wondered if she had been listening to his inner turmoil the entire time, if that was why she had yet to strike up a conversation. He wasn’t upset, if she had, only curious to know her side of things. 
Then she spoke quietly, looking at the fire instead of him, “You know, before I even met you personally, I heard the stories about you and your siblings. I heard a lot about the madness of Klaus and the unruliness of Kol, Rebecca who just wanted love and a family of her own. Of you, I heard all about the Noble Elijah, the trustworthy one whom could be just as ruthless and cruel as his siblings to his enemies. The suits, the elegance...the handsomeness, I heard it all. You, out of all your siblings, make people swoon the most.” She laughed teasingly, looking at him out of the corner of her eye. 
Elijah said nothing, did nothing, not even drink the rest of his wine. He just listened to her with bated breaths, wanting to know where she was going, hoping it was where he thought.
“I suppose there’s something about a sophisticated man in expensive, well tailored suits,” she continued, again gazing at the fire, “but when I actually met you the other night, you were so much more than what I heard of you. I see something other than a monster, something more than a Mikaelson or an Original. I see a man, flawed sure, but one that tries his best to be more than a monster, that understands what right is, especially when away from the madhouse that is your family. 
“With your family, you are so protective, so self-sacrificial, that you would do anything for them, any dark deed no matter how immoral or who it hurts, if it meant they’re survive. Though not right, it is still admirable in it’s own way, because it means you have potential. The potential, I mean, to be capable of good things; caring, loving, selfless. The human part, the one that you can’t recall very well anymore, is still there, and because I saw this complexity of who you are that night, I admit I was curious to know you. Then from when I sat with you at that diner to now, I’ve only grown...enamored.
“I was so excited to meet you again after our first chat, and when I thought I had ruined it, I was devastated. I rushed to the diner, hoping that it wasn’t too late and then there you were. I was happy, apologetic, but happy. I might not have known you for long, but really? Do these things have to be slow? Does it matter if they are not? Besides, who says that it can’t happen quickly and be so much more than a lusty one night stand? Have you not learned this in your long life?”
Yes...he had....
Her eyes fell to him then, her sapphire eyes gleaming in the fire light, and Elijah couldn’t help what came next. Her words touched him in a deep way and they spurred him into action. Her admission, he answer to his wondering, gave him all he needed to act.
In that slow, graceful way he did things, he put the wine glass down on the low table in front of the couch. Then in contrast, he moved quickly, using his vampire speed to close the already short distance between them. He threaded his hand through her hair, feeling the soft, silkiness between his fingers as he went. Cupping the back of her head, Elijah moved in, his chocolate eyes on her sapphire ones as his mouth hovered over hers just for the briefest moment before he closed the distance, kissing Eternity with all the passion swelled inside him.
He heard her sigh contently, one of her hands coming to rest on his chest, just over his heart. His eyes closed, hers as well, enjoying the feeling of his lips on hers. Then he moved the hand in her hair, to grasp some of it into his fist and gently tugged her head back, letting him kiss her deeper. She gasped when he did so and it gave him the opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth, tasting her throughly. He heard her hum needfully in approval, her small hand on his chest clutching at the fabric of his suit jacket, trying to pull him closer.
She tasted sweet like pure rain water, making him addicted to her flavor. He wondered what other parts of her would taste like. With that wondering in mind, His kiss quickly grew in intensity, as their passion for each other climbed to new heights.
Then suddenly, Eternity halted him, gently pushing him back until their lips parted from each other. She was heaving, her already dark blue eyes having grown near black and staring at him with raw lust. Her light pink lips had turned a deeper shade and her pale skin flushed.
Elijah looked at her inquisitively, but said nothing.
She rose flawlessly from the couch to stand before him. He watched as her tiny hands moved without hesitation behind her to where the bow that held her dress together lay. With a small tug of the ribbon, the dress loosened and then fell in a heap around her feet. She wore nothing underneath; though her long hair did obscure his view of her body, making her look like a nymph. 
Words weren’t exchanged. Elijah didn’t have any to give anyway. He stared up at her, gaping really, from where she stood in awe of her beauty all over again. Then he was on his feet and she was wrapped in his arms as gripped her jaw possessively in his hand and kissed her again with an even greater need than before. His other hand slid down her back, beneath her copious amounts of hair, to cup her backside, pulling her closer to him.
Eternity moaned into his mouth sweetly, gripping his lapels in her hands strongly, as if anchoring herself. He could feel her erratic heartbeat, feel the heat rising in her body. She was completely surrendered to the desire, and nothing made him happier at that moment.
Then once again, and just as abruptly, she gently pushed him away, leaving Elijah to gaze at her with wonder. With a coy smile, she took one step backwards, then another, and another, moving further and further from him. The beast in him growled in disapproval. Yet he stayed where he was, watching her move gracefully. He watched as she turned and slowly walked toward the doorway out of the room, where she paused there and looked back seductively over her shoulder at him, silently beckoning him to follow. 
She then vanished around the corner and without another moment wasted, Elijah followed.
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alifeasvivid · 6 years
Text
Never Strikes Twice, aka a UKUS assassin/thief AU (outline)
Okay, but this prompt has actually been sitting in my ideas-document (which is aptly labeled “Plot Bunnies” because that’s what we used to call them!) for awhile now and I stole it from one of those tumblr prompt thingies. I actually think it works a smidge better with Alfred as the assassin, but a) I didn’t wanna impinge on ask-hitman-jones’ territory, b) I don’t always like to go for the obvious, and c) I especially don’t like to do things I think have been done before, so in the same kinda vein as my superhero AU, this is where I’ll probably take this one.
Warnings include: murder, theft, swearing, smut, general amorality. Neither Arthur nor Alfred are “good” people. Arthur enjoys killing people and Alfred really couldn’t care less about that fact. This should go without saying, but I do not condone murder. I feel like you know that already if you read this blog. To a lesser extent, I also generally do not condone thievery, at least not the way Alfred’s doing it here. It is unlikely that “justice will be served” at the end of this fic.
I’m breaking my “maintaining the four year age gap” thing, because to me it makes sense if the gap is slightly larger here.
Twenty-six year old Arthur Kirkland is a man of many diverse talents, but undoubtedly, his greatest skill is murder. So that’s how he makes his living. For the right price, he’ll take out just about anyone in the United Kingdom. He has his limits, but most of those can be summed up in a basic "no children” policy. Everything else is on a case by case basis. He has turned down several jobs on what might be called moral grounds. He doesn’t have a preferred method. He’s an expert sniper and that comes in handy, but there is something to be said for the thrill of a close-contact kill. Arthur has been honed and trained from an early age to do just one thing and he is wholly unparalleled at it.
So as he prepares to end the life of a wealthy politician (the politician’s opponents had given him a likely-exaggerated sob story about how corrupt he is, but Arthur hadn’t been paying attention to it), the last thing he expects is to see a shock of blond hair fly past the man’s bedroom. Arthur’s immediate suspicion is that a rival assassin has been hired to kill Arthur after his own job is complete. Insulted, Arthur follows in the direction the blur went. Clearly, whoever it is must be quite the amateur if he allowed Arthur to see him. Unless that’s part of his game. Very well, Arthur will simply pin the murder on this other person. Mind running a million miles a minute, he pushes open the door to the study to find...
...Nineteen year old Alfred F. Jones, a young man of many specific talents, all of them culminating toward one singular goal: stealing very valuable things. It’s a victimless crime, he reasons. He steals from exceptionally wealthy people and everything he takes is probably insured out the ass, so who really loses? Occasionally, he’ll be hired to steal something, but mostly it’s just for the rush he gets doing it. When it’s over, he’ll find someone to fence what he took and he’ll move along. American-born, he was drawn to the UK by the many museums, art galleries, and wealthy nobles from old, titled families with old, resplendent manors, but this time, he is in the home of this politician to steal something back.
Arthur immediately draws the gun he carries just in case and aims it at Alfred, who has a flashlight held between his teeth. Arthur would prefer not to shoot anyone as it’s rather inelegant, but needs must. Though, a split second of observation identifies Alfred as a thief and an unarmed one at that. Honestly, who breaks into a house completely unarmed? Some might call it stupid. Arthur knows it’s cocky. The thief clearly thinks himself good enough to be in and out before being noticed. Arthur thinks he might shoot him non-fatally just to teach the welp a lesson.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Arthur asks.
With no surprise, Alfred removes the flashlight from his mouth and grins at Arthur like a boy with his hand caught in the biscuit tin. “Hey, man. Don’t mind me, I’m just taking some stuff. You can put that gun down, I’ll be outta your way in just a sec.”
“You realize I’m going to have to kill you, right? I’m here to kill the owner of the house, surely you’ve surmised that much by now,” Arthur deadpans without putting the gun down.
Alfred leans in toward the safe again, cradling his flashlight nonchalantly between his head and shoulder, “And I got no intention of interfering with that, dude. So let’s say you go about your business and I go about mine and we’ll call it a night.”
Woken by the noise, the man Arthur was sent to kill and who Alfred is stealing from, throws open the door to the office and flips on the light. “Who the hell are you two? I’m calling the police this ins--!” He hits the ground before he can finish his sentence. Arthur had whipped around, ducked behind him, put his own gun in the man’s hand and helped him shoot himself in the temple before even ten seconds had passed.
He turns back around to face Alfred. “Bloody hell, look what you made me do.”
But the young thief is already gone.
Arthur is ready to write off the incident as another job completed, even if it was not the most adeptly executed, until he runs into Alfred again. And again. And a few more times after that.
And on the sixth time, Arthur really does shoot him. Once. In the leg. Nowhere near any major arteries. You’d think Arthur had shot him in the gut for the way Alfred whinges about it, but Arthur only wanted more information and Alfred has a terrible habit of being too good at disappearing before Arthur can question him. He tranquilizes Alfred to get him out of the house they’re currently in and back to somewhere secure where Arthur can interrogate him.
Alfred wakes, tied to a chair. Arthur demands to know who his employer is and why he is always stealing from houses while Arthur is ending the lives of the occupants.
“I don’t have an employer,” Alfred says, “it’s just a coincidence. I’m Alfred, by the way. What’s your name?”
Arthur raises an eyebrow at the audicity of the question, but then makes the mistake of leaning in close to Alfred’s face. “It cannot possibly be coincidence, not six times!”
Alfred’s eyes sparkle in a way that makes Arthur vaguely uncomfortable, no easy feat. “Okay, then it’s fate. Destiny. Kis... met.” He leans forward just enough to kiss Arthur fully on the lips.
Arthur sputters and jumps back, tells Alfred to stop following him and leaves, thinking that’s the end of it.
But of course, it isn’t. As the trend continues, Arthur senses that there is more to Alfred than what appears at first, but when Alfred is not seen at a few of Arthur’s assignments, Arthur does a bit of research and finds out that if he wants answers from Alfred, he’s going to have to break him out of prison first.
IDK. Listen, do you have any idea what it’s like to live in my head!? This shit is just constant.
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peppersonironi · 4 years
Text
How I Picture a Batfam Age Reversal
I’m going to write this as a fic (And I want to go on into a young justice world where dick forms the team and his siblings are protective) but here is the outline in bullet points in case anyone is interested. Please note this is VERY first draft.
Ages (At end) & Order:
Damian- 24
Duke- 21
Stephanie- 20
Tim- 21
Cassandra- 19
Jason- 19
Barbara- 15
Dick- 13
Damian is Ten when he is sent to live w/ his father. Bruce is 30.
They don’t really work well together at first. But Selina, Alfred, and Clark somehow get it through Bruce’s thick skull that he has to care for this child.
Damian keeps sneaking out on patrol, against B’s wishes. Eventually, he let’s Damian join and tells him to choose a name (Not what we meant, Bruce!)
Damian wants to go for something like Shadow, or Demon, but Bruce puts his foot down. He says that Damian shouldn’t try to be darkness.
Damian is pouting in the gardens when he finds a wounded robin. It’s wing is broken. He demands that the animal should be taken to a shelter, and carries it in his hand the whole way there.
The bird makes it, and Damian demands to be called Robin. He designs his suit, going slightly more colorful. “I might be called Robin, but I am NOT wearing brown, Pennyworth.”
Bruce introduces him to Superboy (Jon, note: less age dif) and the pair are close friends.
He is Robin for a little over seven years before he begins to fight with Bruce about being allowed to patrol alone, and being his own hero. (basically what happened w/ Dick).
Damian leaves Gotham, opting to claim Bludhaven. Jon joins him. He suggests they call each other Nightwing and Flamebird. Damian thinks it’s a bit childish, but he can’t say no to Jon. They’re costumes are here. (done by @hyperactive-lectiophile! Fantastic job!)
They eventually realize they’re in love w/ each other, all while trying to figure their lives  out. Damian briefly tries to join the police. He hates it. Eventually, he enrolls in BH college for a major in Art and a minor in business.
Later in Gotham, the We Are Robin/Robin War stuff happens. Long story short, Duke is adopted. 
Damian is angry to find out he has a new brother, goes to Gotham to yell at Bruce, but then meets Duke. They bond, and are close siblings. Damian makes his father promise to not adopt any more strays.
Stephanie Brown wants to stop her Father, so she sews up a costume and goes out as Batgirl. Bruce is apprehensive at first, but his family basically yells at him to train the poor girl before she gets hurt.
He does, and after Steph meets Damian, who she absolutely adores (He loves her too. The way she pisses his father off is legendary), Stephanie decides she wants to be Robin. Batgirl was good for dealing with her father, but she wants to belong to this new family, and, w/ Damian’s blessing, she makes a new costume.
Unfortunately, after a while, Stephanie is killed by Black Mask (her death is faked, like in the comics, but the Fam doesn’t know)
Enter Tim Drake. Batman has been going crazy over grief, and not even Nightwing, Catwoman (this is SOOOO batcat, btw) or The Signal can calm him down. Tim steps right up, and demands to be robin.
Damian and Bruce fight over this. Surprisingly, Damian is the one who thinks Tim should be given a chance. He sees how his father has been acting. Damian knows that Tim must be brilliant to figure out their identities, and thinks that should count for something. Duke takes his side, knowing that it takes guts to talk to batman, and be willing to join him. Bruce, meanwhile, is a constant chant of “no more dead robins”. After a while, and lots of arguing, Tim takes his place as Robin. They redesign the suit, and he takes his place as robin.
It’s little while after this that Stephanie comes back. Tim offers Robin back, but Stephanie declines. They talk and grow closer. At one point they talk about Stephanie’s new moniker. She says she doesn’t want to be Batgirl either. She wants something new. Tim suggests Spoiler (Bad pun turned brilliant idea?).
Cassandra Cain arrives on the scene next. She saves the commissioner’s life (like No Man’s Land, minus No Man’s Land), and Stephanie immediately imprints on this tiny assassin child (So do the rest of the family, but Steph claims the fourteen-year old first. She and Bruce fight over custody.). She offers Cass Batgirl. Gotham gained a new vigilante, and Bruce Wayne adopted a new child. (Faster than the comics, I KNOW. But Cass deserves happiness)
Everyone loves their new sister, and everyone spoils her. Duke is the one to take her to a ballet the first time. She immediately begs to be put into lessons.
Somewhere in here Tim’s mom dies and his dad is in a coma. Bruce takes him in.
Eventually, Bruce decides to offer Tim Red Robin, hoping to avoid the strife he had with Damian. (Like in the comics, Bruce was going to give Jason Red Robin)
Tim is unsure of this, and puts off deciding. Then little Jason Peter Todd decides to jack the tires of the batmobile and is immediately taken in.
Everyone is captivated by the tiniest addition to their family, but it's also at this time that Jack Drake finds out about Robin and forces Tim to quit. Tim gives Jason his blessing to become Robin.
Everyone pitches in on helping train the newest Robin. Damian teaches the kid things he learned from the league (non-lethal things, since Damian loves this kid), Duke teaches him escrima fighting, Stephanie (Much to Bruce’s dismay) has a full seminar of the delicacies of glitter bomb making. Tim teaches the kid hacking, when he can get away from his dad. 
Unfortunately, when Jason has been Robin for almost a year, he is killed by the Joker.
The family is torn apart by greif. But this time around, Bruce has a much larger support system. All of them lean on each other.
The only time that Damian ever broke his no-kill rule while living with his father was to kill the Joker. He hunted and murdered the clown, sparing Harley. He had been friends with Quinzel since he was Robin, and knew how the Joker treated her. Harley became the batfam’s honorary aunt after this.
Bruce was too emotionally tired to fight with Damian over his actions, so no one said anything. Eventually, Bruce and Damian did argue. Damian refused to apologize,, though he did promise his father to never kill again. Their relationship was strained for a while, but they worked through it.
Less than a year later, Jack Drake dies, and Tim comes back onto the vigilante scene. He refuses to become Robin, however, choosing to take Bruce up on his offer and become Red Robin. He designs his own suit, and the world seems to slowly become normal. Or some semblance of it.
One night, the circus is in town and the whole family (except Alfred) is home. Duke, Tim, and Steph drag Bruce, Cass, and Damian to go see it.
It is on this night that Dick Grayson’s parents fall to their death. Dick is sent to live in juvi, meanwhile Bruce tries to adopt Dick. He succeeds, and the manor once again has a bright young child running through it’s halls.
Dick figures out the secret identities of his family and instantly demands to be allowed out. He wants to take down Zucko, and won’t settle for every single member hunting for him. Dick wants to take down his parent’s murdered himself. He tries to sneak out multiple times, but is always stopped.
Damian talks to Dick (They are extremely close) and explains the origins of Robin. He says that the mantle was born out of a want to distance himself from the revenge and violence of the league. Dick cries when he learns this and says that his own parents used to call him Robin. He suggests that the mantle is more than a personal need. Robin is Family.
Damian almost immediately demands that Dick be trained and help catch Zucko. Bruce is confused, as before, Damian was strongly against letting a nine-year-old fight crime. Damian explains (after much cajoling. He might be more emotionally open and healthy than when he first arrived in the manor, but the kid is still constipated) what Dick had said, and that Damian understands the kid’s need for direction. “When I first came here, I needed Robin. I might not have known it, but I did. Richard needs Robin now, as well.”
The family took sides on the issue, but eventually Dick (with the aid of his puppy-dog-eyes™) won everyone over. He got his own Robin costume, and they caught Zucko.
Dick refused to stop being Robin, and so Gotham gained a new bird.
Dick was Robin for almost two years when The Red Hood made his appearance in Gotham. No one knew what he wanted, as he didn’t seem to do much beyond killing criminals. They thought he was a vigilante at first, but then he began to take over the criminal underbelly of Gotham, regulating crime. On top of that, Red Hood targeted Robin. Attacking the boy wonder when no one else was around. After the red helmeted rogue let loose a few hints about the league of shadows, Damian interrogated his mother, who explained the identity of The Red Hood, and how she had set him on Gotham.
As soon as the family figured out the newcomer’s identity, and the reason he was alive Damian tracked him down. He knew how to deal with pit rage from his childhood, and brought the lost bird back to the nest.
The family was whole for the first time in years. Jason was still angry and resentful, but he had his family back. Jason was grateful for Damian taking revenge for him, and they were once again close. 
Slowly, Jason let everyone back in, including Bruce. Dick is wary at first of this new older brother, but the little chicken nugget quickly warms up to Jason, and even convinces him to teach him how to shoot a gun (In secret, of course, Dami and Bruce would blow a gasket). Jason couldn’t resist the kid. It was physically impossible.
A year later, Cass decides to pursue dance as her career. She gets a job with the Hong Kong Ballet company. She moves there, and decides to take a new moniker: Black Bat. Her family is so proud of her, but they miss her dearly. Duke visits often, bringing new back to the family.
The absence of Batgirl is filled after a while by Barbara Gordan. She makes her own costume and starts going out. Once again, Stephanie Brown adopts a smol bean (Well, not legally. The commissioner is still alive) and outfits her with a more Gotham-friendly suit and weaponry (I.e. heavy kevlar and leather)
Babs is taken whole-heartedly into the fold, and is made an honorary sister.
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