#it’s a rooftop race to catch Damian

[the-bat-bros]

Damian, Jason just wanted a hug. He thought that his baby brother was hugging him. The poor man is so touched starved but this was SO funny

From: Robin #5 (2021)

[starwarsmum]

More from Forging a Bond! Today's prompt is Scandal

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

@maribat-calendar-events

Damian was back on the WatchTower after a night spent on a distant world that was proving to be easier to deal with than he had assumed. Perhaps it was just the effect of Marinette's warmth and kind nature, making him tolerate others more.

Whatever the reason, they had already agreed to sign the treaty and he was due to return the following day to finish things. He was relieved that he would be able to return home earlier than anticipated. He wouldn't allow it to impact his work, but he missed Marinette and longed to hold her.

“Hey Robin!” Superboy chirped, speeding over to him. Damian grunted and poured a cup of coffee for the other man. “Thanks buddy. Did you see that Mad Hatter was caught and taken back to Arkham yesterday?”

“I had not had time to catch up on the news, no,” he said levelly, though he felt a warm rush of relief. It meant that Marinette was less likely to run into trouble while he was gone. “I suppose Nightwing and Red Hood are not as useless as I believed.”

“Oh, they didn't take him down. Apparently a civilian took out his entire operation and had him locked down by the time they could step in.” The super was watching him closely and Damian had the feeling he already knew who had stepped in. “Of course, the newspapers are all over it, wanting to know how the youngest Wayne's girlfriend was capable of that. It's quite the scandal.”

“...I'm sure he is wondering the same thing,” Damian lied, perusing the article and frowning. There weren't a lot of details but he could see that neither Nightwing nor Red Hood had denied her involvement and it irked him. It was likely an oversight on their part but it painted a target on her back. “I will not be back in time to sign the treaty, will you apologise on my behalf?”

“Only if you're going to explain why I had to find out about your girlfriend through the press,” Superboy said, sounding hurt. Damian nodded, contrite. He hadn't intended to hide it from his best friend but Jon alone knew just what had happened with Ladybug. If he had explained that he was suddenly dating someone, there would have been questions he couldn't answer without revealing her identity.

“Perhaps you could join us for dinner one night,” Damian hedged before excusing himself to take the Zeta tube home. 

He raced along the rooftops of Gotham towards their apartment. He slipped in through their bedroom window, always left unlocked but magically warded to ensure he could come and go as he pleased. He felt a moment of panic when the bed looked undisturbed, until he heard the soft sounds of Marinette's snores from the other room. 

The panic subsided and he took the time to change into his regular clothes. By the time he stepped out of their room he was as relaxed as he could be without checking her over himself. That relaxed state was short-lived as he froze in the doorway with Chloé's eyes on him.

They stared at each other, unmoving for several moments. He was acutely aware that she likely knew he had not come in through the door, and was unsure how to explain his sudden appearance. Luckily, he didn't have to.

“Figures,” Chloé said, glancing fondly at Marinette. “Makes sense that you'd be into the same crazy stuff she is. And before you ask, I don't know anything. I like it that way, she likes it that way and you are not about to ruin my plausible deniability, okay?”

“...okay,” he said, remaining where he was as she stretched and sauntered over to the spare room. She stopped in the doorway and speared him with a look.

“Listen, Dupain-Cheng has had it rough before,” she said in a quiet voice. “Even if you do have a similar lifestyle, it's not guaranteed to work out. And I can't prove it but I'm pretty sure you already hurt her once. This is your only warning: hurt her again and they will never prove it was me.”

She shut the door before he could respond, but smiled. He liked that Marinette had Chloé in her corner, and that their friendship was strong enough that she would threaten Damian to try and keep her safe.

He slid onto the sofa, running his hands up Marinette's arms to reassure himself that she was there; that she was safe. She made a soft noise of contentment and, as his hand brushed her cheek, leaned into the touch. It made his heart swell and he leaned forward to kiss her gently.

She sighed against his lips and pulled him towards her, which he eagerly obliged. He was still running on the adrenaline of knowing she had been part of a rogue attack and worrying what the future held because of it.

When he pulled away several minutes later, her eyes fluttered open and she smiled sleepily up at him. He murmured a good morning and she hummed happily as her fingers found their way up to his hair before kissing him again.

Which was fine until she tried to roll on top of him and they fell from the sofa. 

_ _ _

Several hours later, Marinette was seeing Chloé - who had said she needed to get out of Gotham to get over the trauma of her kidnapping - off to the airport. She had apologised profusely, but Chloé had waved her off with one of her pointed remarks that Marinette refused to read into. As long as Chloé never out and out told her that she knew, she could pretend.

Damian had stayed at home, promising to get dinner started so that they could eat together that night. Chloé had given her approval of Marinette's boyfriend and it had made the young superheroine tear up. She had also promised that if Damian hurt her, she would rend him limb from limb and Marinette appreciated it.

She was exhausted when she did finally get home and collapsed back onto the sofa with a groan. Damian gave a chuckle but brought her a coffee as soon as it was made, alongside some of the leftover macarons she had made when Chloé had arrived.

It was the little things he did that made her sure she was in love with him already. She had been pretty sure it was strong feelings when he had offered to move to Paris for her after only two months of dating. She had tried to talk herself out of anything deeper when he had shown up in Paris with flowers and a date planned on Valentine's day, a few weeks before she had moved to Gotham.

But when she woke that morning to find him already home? She was gone. She genuinely wasn't sure she would survive if he changed his mind about this whole thing. But, by some miracle, it seemed like he was every bit as serious about her.

“Marinette, my friend, Jonathan Kent, is now aware of our relationship and is upset that I did not inform him sooner,” Damian said as they washed the dishes after eating. Marinette waited for him to continue. “He would like to meet you, would you object to us hosting him one evening?”

“I finally get to meet your bestie?” She teased, giggling when he mock-scowled. He flicked water at her and she squealed, flicking the dish towel at him and flitting away. 

[intercoursefluids]

Well That Happened Chapter 7

Damian dodged another boulder, pushing off a wall and out of the way just as it came crumbling down.

He looked over searching for Princess across the rooftops.

He was panting, which was surprising. He usually had much better stamina than this.

He spotted her, ducking for cover behind a wall. Looks like she was also getting winded.

He sprinted for her, ignoring the burning of his legs and the fire in his lungs. He needed to catch up with her, he had no idea what he was supposed to be doing other than staying with her.

He dodged around rubble, skirting around the edges of the sharp pieces.

The giant had lost sight of him, of them both. Which was a relief.

He dropped down beside her, finally having caught up.

She startled, kicking him in the stomach and springing up to her feet. Something was behind her, it looked like she was building something.

Her caught on his uniform and she winced, crouching down beside him and getting back to work.

“Sorry,” She called over her shoulder. “Didn’t know you were one of us.”

Damian groaned, sitting up. That was twice now that she had hit him in the stomach.

Once with her entire body, and once with her leg.

“No problem, what are you making?” He questioned, trying to get his breathing under control.

She held it up, turning to show him when she froze staring at his face.

Right. She had no idea he was here.

“What the fuck? Why? How?” She demanded, leaning into his space.

‘“Uh…” He replied, intelligently.

“I left you in America!” She declared before pausing. “I left you in America, didn’t I?”

He nodded, gently pushing her out of his space.

“Yes, you did. I got here by other means and, as luck would have it, I was paired with you by Pegasus.” He informed her, trying to decipher what she was holding in her hands.

It didn’t look like much, just a bundle of rope and some odd knots.

She groaned, leaning back.

“Of course he did. Anyway, hold this and follow me. Stick close.” She thrust the bundle of ropes at him, standing up and climbing over some rubble crouched down low.

Damian scrambled up, following after her.

They climbed up higher and higher, moving carefully to avoid notice.

“What is our objective? You seem to have something in mind.” Damian inquired, whispering in her ear when they stopped in the shade of a torn up wall.

She jumped slightly before shaking it off, pointing down towards a circling shadow before pointing up to the dragon that was causing it.

“That’s Fang. We are going to ride him to the center of the battle.” She informed him, scoping out a vantage point for them to jump onto the dragons back.

Damian took a deep breath because, of course this would be happening.

It was only natural that they ride an entire dragon to battle.

Today has already been so bizarre he may as well.

He could tell Jon about it when he got back to Gotham.

She started moving again, walking out into the open. They needed to cross this expanse of clear land in order to get up higher.

Damian started to follow her, glancing to the side as he did so.

He wasn’t expecting to see anyone else to be there so he was incredibly surprised to see someone dressed like they were in the Matrix.

That someone was raising a gun, aiming for Princess.

Damian shouted out for her, telling her to move.

She didn’t hesitate, diving for cover as soon as he had called out to her.

She wasn’t going to make it, Damian knew she wouldn’t.

He raced forward, shoving her further out of the way.

A beam of light grazed his side, just barely but it was enough.

He tumbled to the ground, hitting the back of his head on a rock hard enough that he was seeing stars.

Damian groaned, everything was fuzzy and there was a ringing in his ears.

He was dimly aware of someone pulling on his arms, trying to get him up.

He did his best to help, stumbling after them as they pulled him to what he could only presume was safety.

He was going to be sick.

Tag List:

@Dontbenddontbreak

@Its-maemain

@Toodaloo-kangaroo

@Doll246

@Jennifer-rose123

@Razzledazzle247

@Cydaeashootingstar

@Madhatter-crazyasahatter-blog

@miyatalksshit

@Vroomtaka

@animegirlweeb

@rosesandsailboats

@depressed-bitchy-demon

[ggomos-maribat]

[34/?]

BDBWM Day 14 | Overprotection

original prompt | complete masterlist

Marinette finishes slipping on her shoes at the same time the doorbell rings. She races towards it, giddiness pumping in her chest. 

But Jason beats her to it. 

He opens the door and easily covers the path with his stature. Marinette’s face twists into a scowl. Jason leans on the doorframe. “Name, age, occupation, intentions with my sister?” 

Before the visitor can reply, Marinette pulls Jason away, growling, “Felix Graham de Vanily, eighteen, my fucking boyfriend, here to take me out on a date!” 

“Hmp.” Jason crosses his arms. 

“I already told you about our plans!” She raises her voice. “Wait—did you just go to the manor for this? Weren’t all of you done with your shovel talk?!” 

Jason examines his fingernails. “Were we?” 

She waves him away. “Go away, Jason.” 

He turns to Felix. “Have her home by—” 

“Nine p.m. sharp, I know.” Felix says coolly. 

Damian pops out of nowhere with his katana. “Keep her safe or else I will skewer you!” 

“Damian!” Marinette hisses. “Not the family heirloom!” 

The boy grumbles under his breath after Felix makes the promise. Marinette pushes both her brothers away and shuts the door behind her. Felix smiles, takes her hand, and bends down to press a featherlight kiss on her knuckles. “Mademoiselle.” 

Her grin stretches wide as she pulls him for a hug. “Mon amour, I missed you.” 

In her periphery, she spots both Jason and Damian’s face squished against the window. She throws them a glare and locks her arm around Felix’s, walking down the front steps. 

“I’m so sorry about them,” she groans, running her fingers through her heated curls. 

“It’s not out of the ordinary,” Felix says with a hint of amusement in his tone. “It’s a good thing they are protective of you.” 

“Overprotective,” she corrects. “This is why I prefer our dates to be in Paris and not Gotham.” 

“Even so, they find ways to threaten me.” 

She huffs. 

—

“And then I told Adrien to catch those M&M’s with his mouth—” Marinette stops, nearly dropping her fork. 

There, on one of the rooftops near the outdoor restaurant, she spots several figures. Reds. Green. Blue. Black. 

Her entire family. 

Her mouth hangs open as she tries not to look at them. “It’s still the afternoon!” She whispers. “Why the hell are they here?” 

Felix doesn’t seem to mind, but the vigilantes diligently follow them on their date: hiding behind trees during their stroll in the gardens; scaling windows outside the museum; hopping across buildings whenever they traveled with a cab. She also spots Orphan casually sitting on a park bench, reading an oversized newspaper, not bothering to make herself less suspicious. 

As they walk in the streets, Marinette stops and looks straight at Felix. “Let’s go to a love hotel.” 

“Ma belle, your father will have a heart attack.” 

“I don’t care. As long as it gets us some privacy.” 

“They will stage a crime scene there to keep us out.” 

She muffles her frustrated scream against his chest. They will, won’t they? 

—

Marinette slams Bruce’s home office door open, fuming in her stomps. “Dad.” She fearlessly faces him head on. “I want to file a restraining order.”

Taglist:

@maribat-bdbwm @tinybrie @sinoffalsejudgement @its-maemain @kamarallil @toughluna @golden-promises @whatamoodhoney @trippingovermyfeet @m4ster0fnone @alexizlazy @plz-excuse-my-inner-gay @maybeanalien0-0 @imchaotic-dontmindme @ev-cupcake @flowers-n-fandoms @crusherccme @ji-nk-ies @depressed-bitchy-demon @duskyashe @multplelifes @authorpendragging@iloontjeboontje@thatonecroc@user00000003@paradoxaloccurance@kking13@laydeekrayzee@chaos-inperson@astol07@the-coffee-fandom@nerd-nowandforever@nightmarewasteland@certainmuffinbagelcalzone@the-hospitality-of-knives@stainedglassm@talia-scar123@trying414@starling218 @buginetye @ascetic-orange @myazael @child-of-the-clouds @ladythugs

@adrestar @therealkotlc @blueneko9314

[nightlychaotic]

All I Want is to Fly With You

For @liquid-luck-00

Here’s my fluff piece for @maribat-angst-fluff-april Prompt 16: Music

God I am so sorry this is a week late. I really struggled with this for some reason but here it is at long last. I hope it isn't too bad and that you enjoy!

——————————————————–

You know I want you

It's not a secret I try to hide

I know you want me

So don't keep sayin' our hands are tied

You claim it's not in the cards

And fate is pullin' you miles away

And out of reach from me

But you're here in my heart

So who can stop me if I decide

That you're my destiny?

Robin watched as she swung away, before following her over Gotham’s rooftops, a smile forming as the two traveled. This had become one of his favorite routines the past year, patrolling with Ladybug. She was not nearly as annoying as any of his brothers, serious, but also could manage to get him to loosen up at times

They came to a stop on top of a rooftop. Ladybug smiled softly at him as she pulled a picnic basket out from the rooftop corner.

“What’s this?”

“Rooftop picnic.”

“What prompted this?” He asked, taking the blanket from her hands and spreading it out for the two of them. Joining her on the blanket as she unpacked the basket. She handed him a thermos, sighing.

“I’ll be leaving for Paris soon.”

“When?”

“Saturday. I’m not sure if or when I’ll come back to Gotham. So a bit of a farewell picnic,” she told him, giving him a sad smile. “I’ll miss Gotham. I’ll miss you. If I could I’d stay, but I really do need to return home.”

Robin turned towards her, heart pounding and breath catching when she said that, his mind beginning to race.

What if we rewrite the stars?

Say you were made to be mine

Nothing could keep us apart

You'd be the one I was meant to find

It's up to you, and it's up to me

No one can say what we get to be

So why don't we rewrite the stars?

Maybe the world could be ours

Tonight

All I want is to fly with you

Six months ago: Damian watched the spotted hero, Marinette, in front of him throw her yoyo swing away from him. Watching her as long as he could until she was out of his sight.

All I want is to fall with you

Four years ago: Marinette tripping, dropping her coffee and managing to fling her bag into Damian. The first time fate placed her in his path.

So just give me all of you

Three years ago: Damian ran his hands through her hair, gently pulling it away from her face as she was sick, before helping clean her up and getting her in bed. Marinette thanking him, rambling, telling him how she felt about him. The small blush fighting its way to his cheeks as he left.

It feels impossible

Two years ago: Damian felt his face heat up as Marinette scribbled furiously, trying to get the idea in her head on paper before she had to go. Shaking his head dismissing his feelings. It wouldn’t work. It would be too dangerous to involve her in his life, even on the edge of it.

It's not impossible

One year ago: Robin stared, mind racing as Ladybug revealed her identity in an attempt to build trust. Heart clenching as he looked at Marinette, she’d never told him. She had large secrets. What else had she kept secret…. But she had a good reason for this secret-

Is it impossible?

Damian’s closed his eyes for a moment as he thought about the past four years. The memories he had made with her as they navigated Gotham University. How she wormed her way into his life, how he didn’t want her to leave now. She’d become a staple in his life, a staple about to be ripped from him by distance, and life. When did she become so close to him? She didn’t use to be this important.

Say that it's possible

How do we rewrite the stars?

Say you were made to be mine?

Nothing can keep us apart

'Cause you are the one I was meant to find

It's up to you

And it's up to me

No one can say what we get to be

And why don't we rewrite the stars?

Changing the world to be ours

Damian looked over at her, as it really hit him how much he’s slowly come to trust and look forward to having her in his day. He hadn’t been open to her at first but she’d been stubborn and determined to become his friend, much to his chagrin at the time. Over the years he slowly managed to trust her, something that had both suffered and gotten better with the discovery of each other’s identities. His heart clenched as he looked over at her.

“I can come with you,” he found himself offering.

She looked over at him, shaking her head. “I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You aren’t. I’m offering.”

“Damian-”

“Marinette. I’ve come to realise that you mean a lot to me. I cannot imagine not having you cropping up in my life frequently after growing accustomed to you being a part of my life. I don’t want to lose you and would follow you as far as it would take if you’d have me.”

“Are you offering to move to Paris, to take me out on a date?” she asked, laughter clear in her voice.

“I suppose I am.”

She smiled at him, her laugh floating in the air. “What about your family?”

“They’ll probably encourage it.”

“And Gotham?”

“Has my family. It’ll survive without Robin.”

Marinette smiled, taking a sip from her thermos as she looked at him. “And you’re sure about this?”

“Positive.”

“Nothing can keep us apart if we try, and All I want is to stay by your side right now,” he said, leaning over and placing a chaste kiss on her cheek. “If you’ll have me?”

She blushed as she nodded, leaning over and pressing a kiss to his cheek in return. “I would love nothing more.”

[batdadforlife]

I’ve seen some people on here who think that Bruce has a “favorite kid” and that it’s the “good one”. The obedient one, the one who doesn’t fight, the quiet one. And I think its really sad, how many of you project whichever one you consider the “quiet one” (usually Cass or Duke) as the only ones worthy of love.

Guys, guys. Bruce has never had a single child that was the slightest bit sane, or calm, and he likes it that way.

Dick? He decided to take him in permanently and make him Robin after he snuck out and tried to catch the guy who killed his parents. Jason? Took him in after he attacked Batman after stealing the tires off the Batmobile. Tim adopted himself, but the reason Bruce let him stay is that it was clear the kid was crazy enough to go out with or without Batman’s permission. Steph deliberately went against Batman’s orders to stop. Cass is suicidal when she first starts working in Gotham. She might be quieter, but she is absolutely as crazy as everyone else. Damian is just as crazy as his siblings. Harper dedicated herself to helping Batman after he saves her once, and does so despite his protests. Duke joins a crime fighting gang, for goodness sake, he is not the calm one. Terry stole a batsuit.

Does Bruce like spending time with his kids when they’re quiet and calm? yeah, probably. Cuddling with Dick, reading with Jason, going over files with Tim, dancing with Cass, talking with Steph, looking at Damian’s drawings, talking engineering with Harper, discussing books with Duke, joking arguments with Terry. I’m sure he enjoys all of that.

But he also likes jumping off buildings with Dick, taking down a gang with their fists with Jason, dismantling a death trap with Tim, rooftop racing with Steph, dancing with Cass that happens to take down an entire gang war in the process.  Protecting Gotham with Damian as his Robin, seeing what new monstrosity Harper has invented, watching Duke learn about his powers in the field, watching Terry continue the legacy of Batman.

Bruce loves his kids when they are quiet and calm, but especially when there wild and crazy. That's what drew him to them in the first place.

[fishfingersandjellybabies]

You’ll Have To Come and Find Me (Part 4) - fic

Characters: Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, other robs Summary: Dick caught Damian, and then he let him go. Tim didn’t know whether to scream or cry. A/N: during/post Robin #5

Ao3

~~

When he saw them, when he saw his brothers and best friend, for a moment, he felt hope.

They’d come for Damian. They’d followed Tim’s lead and come to take their baby brother home.

Because that’s what he needed to do. Because the more Tim thought about this tournament, the worse he felt. The more he knew he needed to get Damian out and away and safe. And he knew he couldn’t do it alone.

The relief he felt, seeing those silhouettes surround Damian on that roof.

For a moment, he felt everything was going to be okay.

…The moment was very brief.

Damian, that little shit, gave them a deal to catch him, and not a single Robin in any universe or timeline could ever turn down a rooftop race. Not even himself.

So that’s how he got involved, bringing up the rear, watching as the other three tried to reason with their youngest. Tried to catch him, tried to hold him and never let go.

At one point, he was side by side with Stephanie, but Damian used that against them, bouncing them off each other.

Tim caught the look in his eye, though. The dark look of betrayal as he glanced Tim’s way before bounding off into the darkness.

He knew what that look meant. What Damian was thinking. That this was all a ruse by Tim, that he never believed in him from the start. It was all a trick to get him into a false sense of security, then dogpiled by his predecessors.

He understood why Damian might think that, despite it being as far from the truth as possible. Doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt a little, though.

When Jason came across him and Steph, Tim let himself feel a little bit of hope once more. That meant Dick was on his tail, the one he trusted and loved more than the rest of them combined. If anyone could convince the kid to come home, it’d be him.

So when they saw Dick in the distance and started to approach, Tim felt his stomach drop as he took in his posture. As he realized he was alone on the roof, staring out into the harbour towards the boats he and Damian had been heading towards.

He couldn’t keep the despair from his voice. “Tell me you didn’t let him go!”

Dick turned back and smirked at them. “Kid’s fast.”

Tim tuned them out, then. Ignored whatever Jason and Stephanie said as he ran to the edge of the roof himself. Watched the shadow of Damian as he ran through the alley towards the docks.

After a few minutes, when he heard Jason and Stephanie retreat, he glanced back and found Dick still standing there, watching him now.

“Why?” He whispered. “He…you had him, didn’t you?” Tim looked down. “You could have brought him home.”

“He needs to do this, Tim.” Dick returned gently. “You know that.”

“…It’s not safe.” Tim tried weakly. “He needs help.”

“And he has help.” Dick smiled, stepping forward and ruffling Tim’s hair. “He has you.”

Tim blinked, turned to look down at the boats.

“You’ll keep him safe. I know you will.” Dick swore. “I believe in you.” Dick laughed. “You’ve been doing a great job so far, after all.”

Tim watched as Damian reached the boat and snuck on board. Felt his heart twist a little as he watched Damian turn around, eyes darting around the harbor. Looking for someone.

…Looking for him.

“Thank you for going after him when all of us were too stupid to.” Dick murmured, squeezing Tim’s shoulder. “He’s lucky to have you. We all are.”

Tim felt his lip tremble. From emotion, from exhaustion – whatever.

And Dick must have known, because without another word, he was pulling Tim into an embrace, holding the back of his head tenderly.

“I believe in you.” Dick repeated. “I believe in you both.” He held Tim for another moment before pushing him back. “Now, get going. We don’t want you to miss your boat. You and Dames have a world to save.”

Tim swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded.

“Call if either of you need anything.” Dick reminded. “As far as we know, Rose still has her communicator.”

“Keep the Bat-jet fueled and ready.” Tim demanded, backing away. Dick smiled and nodded. Tim glanced to the other side of the roof, where Steph and Jason were watching. Jason nodded too, and Steph gave a thumbs up.

Tim inhaled a deep breath, then exhaled slowly, taking the opportunity to steel himself once more before spinning away and jumping from the building.

When he landed on the boat next to Damian, he glanced back to the roof. Their siblings were gone.

It was just the two of them.

“…You ready?” Tim whispered, bouncing his shoulder against Damian’s. Damian, surprisingly, rolled with the movement so that he was leaning his weight into Tim’s side. Tim noticed he was clutching something tightly in both hands. A stick of some sort, or a bar. Tim didn’t mention it.

“I was born ready, Drake.”

[consumeconstantly]

Bring Me To The Precipice of Victory

1| 2 | 3(you are here) | 4  | next

Summary: When Batman departs— just for a short time, just to patch things up in Gotham— things go horribly, horribly wrong in Paris.

He doesn’t know if he can come back from realizing that Marinette and Ladybug are one and the same (and that his daughter has died more times than he can count.) (all biodad bruce are posted in chronological order but can be read as stand alones)

______________________________________________

The moment of peace, of solidarity, that Batman shares with Ladybug up on that rooftop at night means the world.

After a minute or two, Ladybug pulls back, tear tracks down the sides of her face, eye and nose red. She takes another minute of silence,hugging herself in the muggy Parisian air. When she next opens her eyes, Batman can almost imagine that Ladybug never cried at all. 

But he knows that's not true. Ladybug seemed so fragile in his arms. He can imagine— he can imagine Dick in her place, broken over Jason’s death. Tim losing his parents. All of his children facing insurmountable odds with no team by their side. Alone. 

Ladybug is not alone, but functionally, she may as well be. He’s watched the fights. He’s analyzed them. Ladybug is always, always the leader. She strategizes with Ryuko and Viperion, but Ladybug is who everybody looks to for an answer when things don’t work out the way they want them to. She’s the one with the plan, the backup plan, the out. She’s the one who swoops in to save the day.

She’s also the one who has racked up the most hours on the battlefield. Even Chat Noir, her partner, only has three quarters of the hours that she’s put in. For most of the other members of her team, she puts in double, sometimes even triple of what they do. Over the course of six years, there have been a little under two thousand battles, lasting from under an hour to over five hours. Ladybug has shown up for every single one, without fail. That’s not even counting the patrols that they do; although Ladybug is given a lot of flack for not patrolling as often as Chat Noir, there’s a fundamental difference in how they patrol. Ladybug is methodical, Chat Noir is volatile. 

He’s not a bad superhero when it comes down to battle, but the two of them are fundamentally different. Ladybug sees her time as a superhero as a duty. Chat Noir seems to view it as a time to unwind— and while that’s worrying, considering the information he’s gathered on the Miraculous Team so far points to the majority of them beings teens or young adults— it’s not what is needed to deal with the Paris situation. 

Perhaps one of the easiest ways to see these differences is during patrol. Chat Noir uses patrol time almost seems to be an outlet for stress. He entices whoever he’s on patrol with to race to random places in Paris with no rhyme or reason. Whenever he comes across crime, he stops it, but Ladybug— Ladybug searches for crime.

Ladybug has a team and she trusts them with her life, but she cannot trust them to be responsible. That is perhaps the worst possible thing that can happen. And through the videos that he’s watched, it’s clear that the hours she puts in do affect her, and fairly heavily. 

Whoever she is, she’s young. Too young to be in battle untrained, because they are untrained— despite being in the field for years, all of their basic form lacks and tells anybody with an experienced eye that they’ve never had formal training in martial arts. 

When Batman and Ladybug leave the roof, they leave on a better note than where they started. Batman is still upset that Tom and Sabine are dead, but he cannot attribute it solely to Ladybug’s negligence. He admires the young heroine for rising to the occasion when there was nobody else to help. He has no doubt that with the resources and training that he can provide him and his operatives already on the case, Hawkmoth will be revealed in no time at all. 

He’s right, but in the worst possible way. 

It’s largely a mistake on hiss part-- he gets a notification that the Joker broke out of Arkham again, and Hawkmoth and Pavona are missing for the time being. Though Ladybug has made a mistake in not taking Pavona out immediately, she and her team have won every akuma and sentimonster battle. The logical course of action is to go where the most danger is. 

Bruce does not have any predictive powers. There is no way for him to know what’s going to happen. But when he and his team finally catch the Joker and put him away again-- a feat that takes just a little under twenty four hours, extreme concentration, and a good number of injuries-- Batman finally gets a chance to breathe. The adrenaline from facing off against the Joker’s latest scheme fades. Batman reclines in a chair as Alfred binds his  wounds and passes him pain relieving pills while he gets stitches in his abdomen. 

He checks the news in Paris. 

He almost drops the device that he’s using to view the news. 

Marinette’s existence has been hidden from his family. With Dick, he was more concerned about his existence as Robin, rather than informing him that he had a sister. As soon as he started contemplating bringing up Marinette, Batman and Robin had a bad break. Then Jason came along, troubled and angry. Bruce didn’t want to introduce Marinette into the mix then because he was volatile. 

Jason died due to Batman’s incompetence. Bruce grieved the loss of his ward; Batman was never allowed to mourn the loss of his second Robin.

Tim felt unworthy as the only child Bruce didn’t pick up off the streets, and Damian-- well, Damian was Damian. First he had a superiority complex the size of the Grand Canyon, and once he got accustomed to how they handled things in the Wayne Manor-- though Tim would argue that Damian is still not used to this kind of lifestyle-- he overcompensated every single mission and needed a remedial course on How to Interact With Other Humans 101. Add the overarching concern of Marinette being exposed to his vigilante life style and being unprepared for it, and he was never able to tell his children that he had another biological kid. A daughter.

When the news that Sabine and Tom died reached his ears, he told everybody he had business in Paris without elaborating what. With Wayne Enterprises opening a Paris branch of their R&D specialising in European artifacts, it was easy to draw connections that weren’t there.

“Bruce, you need to relax. Business in Paris can be dealt with later, you need to take the time to heal,” Tim says.

A clip in his shoulder from a bullet, knife wounds on his torso and legs, a sprained wrist. Whatever chemical experiment the Joker got his hands out still pumping through his veins. “I need to go-- it’s important--”

The pain relievers Alfred gave him earlier were also a sedative. 

Tim catches him before he passes out.

#

He wakes up three hours late through sheer force of will.

“Paris!” Bruce jolts upright, still in costume, lying prone on a medical cot in the Batcave.

The first thing that catches his eyes is the red and black flying across the screens.

Ladybug.

His kids are all watching the screens with abject horror. 

“Is this,” Tim wets his lips. “The business trip that you were on?”

Bruce drags himself out of bed, adrenaline washing out any residual pain. He doesn’t have the capacity to respond, he needs to get to the zeta tube, he needs to get to Paris, Ladybug is bleeding, the city is in shambles, and Marinette-- 

One of the news sites up on the screen declares the arrondissements that are obliterated. The one that houses Tom & Sabine’s Boulangerie is amongst their number. An approximate death toll fills the static.

-- Marinette is likely among those lost. He has lost another child due to his inaction. Due to his inability to push through, to look forwards and predict the future and the consequences of his actions. Marinette is another Jason, but if Ladybug doesn’t get it together, she’ll be gone permanently. And Ladybug is little more than a child. She can’t handle it, not by herself, not with her team. She needs an experienced hero, and Batman will be there for her, be the one leading the charge against Hawkmoth as the civilians hide in their homes and pray for her Miracle Cure to reverse the damage.

Dick places a hand on his shoulder. Bruce tries to shrug it off, but his fingers dig into the place where the bullet clipped his flesh. The pain is just a reminder that if he does not get to Paris now, there will be thousands-- no, millions-- more who feel this pain. How did Marinette die? Was it an akuma? Did the rubble of one of the destroyed buildings fall on her? Did Ladybug even try to protect her?

“I need to go,” Bruce growls.

“You can’t. While you were out, the majority of the Justice League prohibited all travel via zeta tubes. Nobody can get into Paris right now.”

Bruce knocks Dick’s hand off his shoulder and turns to his eldest. At the very least, Dick and the rest of his children look solemn. Damian’s gaze is fixed to one of the screens that shows Ladybug. “A city is in danger, millions of lives are at risk, Marinette--”

His daughter is dead. He can’t bring himself to say it out loud.

Standing by idly is the last thing he’ll let himself do.“Who put out the order? I’ll get them to reverse it.”

Dick moves so he’s between the zeta tube and Bruce. “B, you don’t understand. If you go to Paris right now, you’ll get akumatized.” 

“I can handle my emotions.”

Jason points at the upper right section of screens that’s replaying past footage. “I wouldn’t bet Paris’ survival on it. Not when more level headed superheroes got on the scene first and failed. They really don’t need any heavy hitters getting akumatized. Not when Superman put three members of their team out of commission.”

Superman arrived on the scene first; it took a matter of seconds for him to get akumatized. He was responsible for razing down three arrondissements in no time flat. Ladybug had to call for a Lucky Charm in order to get her hands on some kryptonite, which forced her to recoup after her time ran out. 

Black Canary arrived next. Then Red Tornado. 

Both were akumatized in mere minutes. 

“After Red Tornado got akumatized, Wonder Woman led the charge to put the rest of the zeta tubes on lockdown,” Duke says, grim. “All we can do now is hope that these Parisian superheroes can pull off a win.”

Bruce stumbles over to get a better view. He remembers Ladybug, small and slight in his arms. A child, crying over the loss of her pseudo parents. 

A warrior, bloody and bruised and broken.

She is one of the last ones standing.

King Monkey and an ox themed hero both died at Superman’s hands. The former got in the way of his laser beams, the latter a victim of super strength and getting thrown through two buildings and having their necks snap at an unsightly angle. Chat Noir was also sent hurtling through the air, and the only reason he was still alive was because Ladybug alighted from the sky and grabbed him before he got sent through a building in his unconscious state. Black Canary came shortly after, apparently informed of the Superman situation and carrying kryptonite. 

She didn’t last for long either. Almost immediately after helping Ladybug and Ryuko bind Superman in such a way that he couldn’t escape, 

Pegasus got hit by Black Canary’s sound waves and Chat Noir’s residual injuries from his fight with Superman forced him into a state of unconsciousness. Queen Bee and Carapace were able to pull off a win against Black Canary, but not without serious injuries. Ryuko faced off against Red Tornado alone, which normally would have been a thing of awe, but in the grander scheme of things, was a huge issue, as without her, the Miraculous Team functionally lost all of their heavy hitters. Rena Rouge and several Miraculous users that clearly had never been in battle before were the ones left to hold their own against the scores of akumatized Parisians.

The only ones left to hunt down Hawkmoth and Pavona were Ladybug and Viperion, and the former was already on her third use of Lucky Charm.

Ladybug pulls out her communicator, dodging an attack.

“Can we get sound on this?” Jason grips the closest table.

Dick shakes his head. “Zatara says there’s already enough interference just trying to get these images. And for some reason, Dr. Fate refuses to get involved with any of this.”

Bruce’s phone rings. He doesn’t pick it up on the first ring, too focused on the ongoing battles. He does take his phone out of his pocket to silence it the next time, but when he presses the sound off, an image comes through.

“Bruce.” Ladybug’s image comes through crystal clear, and it doesn’t make him feel any better. Ladybug, blood dripping from her mouth, costume torn open, hair burnt, wild eyed. 

He opens his mouth to speak, but the image goes blurry as she moves to avoid several attacks pointed towards her. 

“Before I go, I--”

“Watch out, LB!” Bruce lifts his eyes to the screen that displays Ladybug and Viperion in battle. The spotted heroine gets pushed out of the way of a laser, but the snake themed hero takes the hit.

The ambient noise coming from his phone is strong; he can hear blades clashing in the background as Chat Noir, already on his last legs attempts to hold off Darkblade. Screaming from civilians, a strangled sob from Ladybug. “Viperion.”

Ladybug comes back into view. Blue eyes filled with rage.

“If this doesn’t end in our favor, you need to make sure that Hawkmoth and Pavona do not acquire both the Ladybug and Black Cat Miraculous. Do whatever it takes to prevent that from happening.” She blinks, retreats into herself, and Bruce wonders if he’s seeing the girl behind the mask. 

“And If I don’t get to see you again--” If I’m dead, the words go unspoken, “I really did want the chance -- I-- you’re a good man. A good father. Your daughter-- she loves you. She really, really does. Stay safe.”

The transmission cuts off. On the screen in front of him, Ladybug closes her communicator, closes Viperion’s open eyes, and strides to the epicenter of the akumas. Blue fire flashes in her irises, and for a moment, she’s staring directly at the screen. And Bruce knows those eyes. He knows them. 

The next second, all of the computers simultaneously die.

Bruce is numb. No-- no.

He is nothing.

#

All his children-- no, not all his children, Marinette is missing, Marinette is Ladybug, and she’s out on a field that he can’t see grappling with magic forces strong enough to incapacitate Justice League members like their powers and abilities are inconsequential-- stare at him.

“That was… Ladybug?” Tim’s brow furrows. It’s clear that he’s thinking up a hundred different reasons why Ladybug and Batman are connected, why he’s the last person she calls before going into a battle that could very well cost her her life.

“My daughter.” The words are ash on his lips. An existence he’s never acknowledged. Not out loud. Saying it brings a sense of finality to the room. An impending death. “My daughter.”

Nobody asks how long he’s known or when he met her or why he’s never brought it up before. Everything is fuzzy. Floating. 

For a while, there’s silence. 

“Zatara says there’s too much interference to get the picture back up,” Dick opens his messages, frowning. 

Damian still stares at the screen Ladybug looked at directly, frozen.

Bruce picks himself up and moves. He may not be able to use the zeta tubes, but he has a private jet and a license, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t do something.

#

It takes two hours too long to get to Paris. He shaved five hours off the flight length due to superior technology, and another hour and a half off due to sheer force of will. 

The landing is not a pretty thing, but Paris is already in shambles, and there’s no way that the ATC will approve his landing, so Bruce picks out the flattest looking spot of rubble before his jet meets the ground.

According to Tim and Duke, who stayed behind in case this turned out to be an attack spanning multiple cities, the battle ended mere minutes before they landed. Dick manages to get Zatara to broadcast the image in the cockpit of the jet, and on the screen lay three prone bodies. Gabriel Agreste, whose body type fits that of Hawkmoth, Lila, and a third that Bruce does not recognize. 

A bone sticks out of Marinette’s arm, the connected hand crushed and hanging limp. The opposing ankle is twisted almost fully backwards. She is covered in blood and ash and filth. There is no victory in her eyes. Only weariness.

In her good hand, she holds her yoyo. 

She raises her eyes skywards-- the roof of the Agreste mansion is blown clean off-- blinks slowly, and throws the yoyo into the air. 

“Miraculous Cure,” her lips read.

The corpses in Paris rise from the dead. Rubble reforms into buildings. The ashy haze that covered the city disappears.

Ladybug looks like she wants to disappear, too.

She collapses, instead.

Nobody is there to catch her when she drops to the floor. 

@biodad-bruce-month

Maribat tag list(to be added onto this pls send me an ask/dm): @our-precipreciousss @my-dear-friend-anxiety

Who Are You (and what will you become) tag list (to be added here just comment): @anjuschiffer @theunquiet-dead @certainmuffinbagelcalzone @cresentmo0n @allulily @myazael @zalladane @rebecarojas07 @keepingupwiththemalfoys  @frieddonutsweets @all-mights-asscheeks @thornalchemist23 @trippingovermyfeet @jiso-lee @redscarlet95 @ira-sairain @screechingflapbiscuitpeach @ramos123 @cutechip @theunquiet-dead @sleep-deprived-aroace @enternalempires @lilkymilky @woe-is-me0 @officiallydarkgeek @miyla-lokidottir @queencommonsense @demonicbusiness 

mb for not doing tag list right away i forgot i had these cued up already

[justcourttee]

I love your sibling Jasonette, so may I please have some more? *Raises gruel bowl*

A little angsty, a little sweet. I hope you love this one too :)

The Birthday Gift

Jason was having a shitty day.

Marinette was supposed to call him when her plane touched down at Gotham Airport, but that was hours ago and she had yet to return a single message. On top of that, stupid Bruce blindsided with yet another intervention with Batman Incorporated and how yes there are terrible villains out there, but we are not the judge, jury, and executioner. A load of hypocrites if you asked him. Finally, Roy stood him up for a drink at their favorite bar due to a meeting with Oliver.

So he could honestly say he was not surprised when a handful of Joker’s thugs dropped in on him on his self-pitying walk home.

“Look, guys, today is not my day. I’ll let you off easy if you leave now.”

The men’s painted smiles sent shivers down his back, reminding him just a little too much of the original. They said nothing as they circled him, waiting for him to make the first move, a mistake he had made many times with them.

“C’mon dudes, can’t you give a guy a break. It’s my birthday today and even my own sister stood me up.”

One of the men began to snicker as if he found the idea of Jason’s loneliness funny. Maybe it was, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to laugh with them. The sound of footsteps approaching caught his attention. He felt his whole body stiffen as the maniacal laughter reached his ears. No one else sounded so deranged, so crazy, but it couldn’t be. The world didn’t hate him this much right?

Wrong.

“Well, well, well, little Jason Todd. Oh my, it’s been so long, you’ve grown so much.”

Joker himself in all of his clown prince glory. His smile sickened Jason’s stomach to the core.

“What do you want, Joker?”

The clown’s face frowned in mock hurt as he placed a dramatic hand over his heart.

“Is that any way to talk to your favorite agent of chaos? Now now little bird, I’m not here as a threat, I’m here to offer you some birthday fun! After all, you always were my favorite little Robin. It’s why I treated you so much more tenderly than the rest.”

Joker reached up to wipe a fake tear from his face before allowing the grin to stretch it’s way back slowly. Jason’s mind was racing with possibilities, the number one being an exit strategy. Four men, all deranged, plus the Joker himself. It wasn’t looking great, but there was no way this clown was going to kill him twice in this lifetime.

“What’s this gift you mentioned? So kind of you to think of me on this day.” It took everything he had to hold back the sarcasm from dripping off his tongue. His hand moved in the slightest, trying to reach the gun he had tucked in his waistband.

“I’m glad you asked-”

Before he could finish his sentence, a figure dropped from the rooftops, landing on the nearest goon. The three remaining men all reached for their weapons, but could never touch them. Something shot out, gripping their guns and pulling them into the abyss of darkness. For a brief second, Jason allowed himself to feel hopeful.

Maybe the old man finally remembered his birthday, maybe he was here to help him. But as the figure stood, taking a step into the light, he felt his heart drop. A small girl stood in front of him dressed in a skintight black suit, small red dots lining her sides. Her hair was pulled into a tight bun on top of her head, her mask solid red matching the side of her suit.

“I’ll give you one chance Joker, let go of the boy and I’ll let you go.”

There was a tense silence for a moment before Joker laughter tore through the air.

“A child! Are you Batman's new birdy my girl?”

The small figure stiffened as Joker’s men began recovering their wits, some drawing pocket knives, others closing in with their bare hands.

“Do I look like a bird to you?”

Jason had to hand it to her. The kid had guts to stand before the Joker and insult his jokes, but he knew the clown’s patience was running thin. Sooner or later, he was going to give the order and the thugs would tear into her. He was so close to his gun, but any sudden movement could put her in danger now.

“Now now, it sounds like you need an attitude adjustment. Why don’t you ask Jason here how it feels?”

His smirk was sinister and with the flick of his hand, the thugs all jumped. They were fast, but she was faster. One by one she knocked them out, flipping and twirling with grace as she dodged each attempt on her life. Jason’s fingers finally wrapped around his gun, a sense of relief flooding through his body.

This was what he needed to shift the fight, but something stopped him. Numbness spread through his limbs as he lost his grip on the gun, the weapon clattering against the concrete. He vaguely recognized the hand on his back giving him a shove forward, but he couldn’t put his arms out to save himself.

“No!” The girl tried to rush forward, but she was distracted as one of the thugs landed a punch, knocking her off her balance. They managed to subdue her, holding her still as Joker moved forward to examine the new curiosity.

“Quite interesting. How do you know my Jason?”

The girl’s eyes clouded over as she mustered as much strength as she could, trying to pull her arms free. Joker raised his hand, a sickening smack coming from the girl’s face as a red mark began to form. Jason tried to move, he needed to protect her like she tried to do for him, but it was impossible.

“Now, I asked you a question. Show some respect for your elders!”  His laughter only enraged the girl.

“Don’t you dare touch him.”

“Oh, you mean, like this?” Joker raised his leg, landing a kick right into Jason’s ribcage sending the clown into a fit of laughter. “Or this?”

“Stop it! No! Jason!”

He knew the voice sounded so familiar, but he couldn’t focus on it, not with the endless pain rolling in.

“All you have to do is answer the question! You have the power to stop this dear.”

Jason tried his best to raise his head to look at her properly, but the best he could do was land one eye on the girl. The face, mask or not, he knew that face. Joker raised his foot once more, stopping only a millimeter from Jason’s face.

“He’s my brother! I swear if you hurt him again I’ll kill you. I’ll kill all of you.”

Jason felt the realization flood through him as his heart dropped. She didn’t abandon him. She was right here. Marinette.

“I see, I didn’t know my dear Jason had a sister. Honestly, I wouldn’t expect him to be related to someone so weak.”

He reared back his foot again, delivering yet another blow. Jason heard Marinette yell in rage, but he couldn’t do anything to stop it.

“What the-”

Jason couldn’t see anything, he could barely move from the paralysis and the bruised rib cage. He heard the sounds of commotion sending panic through his body. These weren’t like the villains Marinette faced in Paris, these were rougher around the edge, their only goal to kill. Parsian villains killed, but almost always on accident, collateral damage. These men did it for fun.

He tested his fingers, a sense of urgency flooding through him as they twitched under his strained effort. Jason just about had his full hand in motion again when five shots rang through the air sucking the breath from his lungs.

“Bug? Bug are you alright?”

Jason couldn’t help the tears that fell down his face and trickled into his voice. She was the only family that mattered to him, the only one that ever cared for him. Using his good hand, he attempted to flip himself, only succeeding in straining his wrist.

“Bug!”

Two hands wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him into their lap, his head lolled backward before a soft touch helped him prop upwards. Two shining blue eyes stared down into his, a splatter of blood staining her mask.

“Bug what did you do? You don’t kill.”

She shook her head, dropping down to hug his numb body.

“I only wounded them. They crawled away carrying their stupid clown leader. Jason, I was so scared they were going to kill you.”

He felt a hot tear hit his face and then another. Soon her tears mixed with his own as the shock faded away. He almost let that asshole kill him again and in front of Marinette.

“Hey, hey, no tears on your birthday.”

Marinette wiped away his before she took care of her own, a shaky giggle escaping her lips.

“Mari, why didn’t you call back? I was so worried.”

The feeling had returned in both his arms as he tried his best to move his legs next.

“I was trying to finish your birthday gift, you know how I get when I’m sewing.”

It was Jason’s turn to laugh, still shaky as well as he tried to push what had happened out of his mind.

“What did you get me?”

“A new jacket. I know leather is your favorite and you always seem to ruin the ones I make you.”

They both shared a laugh as Marinette shook her head.

“Let me see if we’re lucky tonight.”

Marinette gently set him back on the ground as she called upon her lucky charm, only to throw it directly into the air with her signature phrase. Hundreds of small ladybugs circled his body, a warmth spreading throughout where they touched.

As they disappeared into the night sky, Jason tested his legs, a small smile tugging at his lips when they moved at his command.

“You know how much I love that thing right?”

Marinette shook her head as she called off her transformation catching a small, exhausted Tikki.

“You know how lucky you are that I transformed before they laid a hand on you right?”

Jason gently shoved her shoulder as she stuck her tongue out at him. As she finished caring for Tikki, she turned her full attention to him, slipping off the oversized jacket she was wearing.

“Here, this was your gift. It was the only way I could think to protect it without leaving it up on the rooftop.”

He slipped off his older jacket, a gift from his last day in Paris, and slipped on his new one, relishing in the perfect fit.

“You know, you’re a miracle worker Marinette. And since you’re in town, I think we can now use that phone of yours to contact Damian.”

“Don’t even think about it, after all, you don’t want to end up like those thugs.” Her tone was playful as she handed him back his fallen gun.

“I think I could take my chances.” He threw his arm over her shoulders as he guided her out of the alleyway. “Now, how about you  buy me a birthday drink?”

“How about not? This is the States, my friend, I’m technically not legal here.”

Jason cursed under his breath earning a laugh from the smaller girl as they headed down the avenue. Jason felt his phone buzzing from his back pocket, most likely Bruce calling him about his Joker encounter (which he had no doubt he already found out about), but he didn’t have the energy for yet another lecture on his birthday. Not from him.

“Are you going to get that? It could be your family?”

Jason looked down to meet her concerned eyes, a sight that melted his heart. He shook his head, planting a small kiss on the top of her head.

“I’ve got the only family that matters right here and that’s the best birthday gift anyone could ask for.”

Permanent Tag List:

@damianette-is-life @rebecarojas07 @ash-amg

[starsonthewalls]

thing that would never make sense in batfam canon but would be personally hilarious to me is identity shenanigans amongst the batfam

im not even thinking this through properly just,,, mr world's greatest detective catching a masked dick grayson on the rooftops and not figuring out that robin is in fact tiny boi who he relates with very much and is trying to get justice for

them racing each other but also avoiding each other to get back home in time for bed checks and panicking asdhfausda

AND IT JUST CONTINUES

like,,, nightwing and robin except dick and jay have all these issues as dick and jay but have The Best found family vibes on the rooftops

nightwing and robin!tim except nightwing resents this new robin who can never replace the robin he picked but dick hyperfixates on this small boi he saw at jason's funeral and decided to pseudo-adopt as sibling

tim adores jason in both identities, jason hates tim as robin and lowkey resents tim as tim bc he has a better relationship with dick

damian has a grudging respect for all the batman's sort-of grudgingly-partners-who-bruce-never-found-out-the-identities-of but is absolutely batshit feral with his 'adopted siblings'

they're all also insanely overprotective of one another as The One Secret Vigilante of This Totally Civillian Family With No Special Training Whatsoever nosiree

alfred's just done

like the logistics of it make absolutely no sense which means ill probably never write it because trying to make sense of it would make me cry but if it can be done correctly it would be absolutely hilarious

[nokomiss]

@wardinpanties requested stephcass on patrol, and this is what happened. Set in an ideal continuity where Steph’s Batgirl run continued while Cass came back to Gotham.

*

Patrol was going well. Smoothly, even, considering Steph had stopped three separate crimes (a mugging, a liquor store robbery, and had taken out a dealer trying to hook little kids) and was now sitting on a rooftop looking out over Gotham itself, trying to decide which direction to head next.  

She heard the slightest scuff of a boot against the rough surface of the roof, and turned, expecting to see-- well, she wasn’t sure. She mostly patrolled alone, these days. Batgirl didn’t precisely have a partner, and everyone else was pretty wrapped up in their own deals. 

It was Cass.

Steph beamed, and threw herself at Cass the same way she always did. Having her back in Gotham was a continual gift -- Steph hadn’t quite adjusted to it as normal, not yet, not after missing her for so long.  Cass laughed and squeezed her back, face tucked into Steph’s neck, her breath a sigh.

“Patrol?” Cass said, and Steph nodded. Cass was her favorite person to patrol with -- always had, from the first realization that Cass respected her determination. Them running across the rooftops as Batgirl and Robin were some of Steph’s most cherished from that brief, bright stint of her life.  

Steph filled the silence with chatter as they traversed the rooftops-- telling Cass about the successes of the night, commentary about the relative merits of each restaurant and kiosk they passed, about her frustrations and pride in college. Cass listened and laughed and shared a few scant, precious details about her life in Hong Kong, and Steph hoarded those details close, trying to create a picture of what her best friend’s life had been like.

It was wrong to feel joy when finding a crime in progress, but it meant they got to fight together, and Steph pushed away the vague sense of guilt and instead threw herself into the fight full-force.  It was a skirmish between two groups of goons -- Steph thought they were associated with the same gang, but apparently a splintering had happened she wasn’t aware of -- and for a time the world narrowed down to just action. Kicks, punches, spinning out of the way, the bark of gunfire and the groan of pain after a wrist was broken. Cass was a marvel to watch, as always, effortlessly dancing between goons, leaving mayhem in her wake.

Steph gave as good as she got, and before she knew it, all the goons were incapacitated. Steph called it in, and they fled the scene, swinging through the city.

Breathless, they landed on a rooftop that had an overgrown garden. It was private and lovely, and felt strange, standing amongst plants instead of the cold expanse of concrete she was used to. Cass was looking at her in that strange way she had since her return to the city, and all Steph could think about was how strange it would be to see someone else wearing your uniform. How she would feel if she saw a Spoiler swinging between buildings, at that faint, regretful stab of emotion she’d felt seeing Tim back in the uniform, at seeing Damian in it. 

Cass had to feel the same, seeing Stephanie as Batgirl while she forged ahead anew as Black Bat.

Steph wished, quiet and desperately, for a fraction of Cass’s ability to read people. To be able to be sure of what she was interpreting. “You know I’d give Batgirl back to you in a heartbeat,” she said, because while her own heart might break at giving it up, she knew that she couldn’t step into the costume every night knowing it upset Cass.

Cass paused, just for a second, then shook her head, her hair fluttering around her face. Steph loved that she could see Cass now, that the quirk of her lips was visible, even though a part of her felt like it made them both more vulnerable. When they’d started -- both of them had kept every bit of skin hidden, had shielded themselves from the night and all its terrors, and she wondered if maybe they’d been smarter. They’d definitely been happier. More innocent.

At least, she had.

“I mean it,” she insisted, not sure why she was choosing now to push this, but knowing it was a conversation they needed to have. And a conversation they had to have alone, without anyone else, not even Babs, weighing in.  

Cass reached out and traced the Bat on Steph’s chest. Steph felt her breath stutter, even though Cass’s touch was delicate and there were enough layers of the suit that she couldn’t actually feel the touch.  Then Cass touched the Bat on her own chest. “The symbol is… what’s important.”

Steph could take her at face value. “Yeah, but Batgirl is...  You made it yours. It’s who you were. It’s who you are.”

“So have you,” Cass said. “You’re… different. Not as scary.” Steph huffed out a tiny laugh; it was too true to argue, and she could tell that Cass meant something else by it. “Batgirl isn’t a… weapon. When it’s you.”

“Cass--” Steph said, choosing to totally disregard the no names in the field rule. “It wasn’t when it was you, either. Watching you as Batgirl was like…” She reached out and took Cass’s hand, palm-to-palm. “I never thought of you as a weapon. Watching you fight is like seeing… seeing poetry in motion. Like you’ve achieved the potential that we all have, and you’re allowing us to see what we could be capable of.”

She pulled their joined hands closer and pressed a soft kiss against Cass’s knuckles. “We aren’t who our fathers made us to be, Cass. We aren’t even what Batman wants us to be. We’re more than that.”

Cass breathed out slowly. Her body language was guarded; tense shoulders, jaw tight. Stephanie desperately wished that she could see her actual eyes, but then the tension just… eased out of Cass. “We are,” she said. “More.”

“So much more,” Steph agreed. She was still clutching Cass’s hand like a lifeline.

“I like seeing you as Batgirl,” Cass said. Her tone was matter-of-fact, but in their joined hands, her thumb traced a slow circle against the side of Steph’s. “I like us… being Bats. Together.”

“Together,” Steph repeated. 

Cass nodded once, assuredly. Like she’d made an important decision that Steph hadn’t quite caught on to.  She hated that Cass could clearly see her own uncertainty about what was happening, but Cass didn’t seem upset. She seemed almost amused, like she was waiting on Steph to catch up. Like rooftop tag; her expression was like the one she wore when she would look back at Steph in pursuit, knowing that she would escape, but taking a moment to share her joy.

Steph absurdly wanted to break the moment and suggest rooftop tag, to settle back into territory where she was confident. 

Maybe she could read Cass better than she thought, if a single nod could launch Steph into a crisis.  

Steph licked her lips nervously, and Cass’s eyes tracked the movement, obvious even through the domino, and… oh.

Oh.

Maybe she was in territory where she was confident after all.

“Cass,” she said. “I missed you so much when you were gone. When I was gone.”

They didn’t talk much about that time, about how Steph had been ripped from her life and set adrift, and how she’d let it go on for longer than she needed to, once she’d regained herself. They didn’t talk about what it had done to Cass. They didn’t talk about what it had done to Steph.

But with Cass, sometimes words were the least important part.

“Me too,” Cass said. “I… understand. Better, now.”  Now that she’d left Gotham behind, too. It did something to you, escaping from this city. Leaving it behind and being someone new. It cast into stark light just who you were, and since they were both here, standing on a rooftop with Gotham’s lights twinkling behind them, beautiful through the fog that was settling into the city, she knew that they’d come to the same conclusion.

This was their home. This life was what they were meant for. And happiness wasn’t something to squander.

Steph didn’t hesitate a moment longer. She flung herself towards Cass, like she had when she’d appeared behind her earlier that night, only this time with different intent.

She’d kissed Cass dozens of times before -- soft forehead kisses, happy kisses on the cheek, gentle make-it-better kisses against sore muscles, even a few delighted smacks on the mouth -- but never like this. Never with this thrumming confidence that this was what Cass wanted, that this was what they truly meant to each other. Never with such hope.

This kiss was a thousand emotions twined together into a singular action. Cass’s eyes were shut, her ability to read body language unnecessary. It was perfect and it was messy and it was graceless, bumped noses and a soft giggle into another mouth, and Steph never, ever wanted it to end.

 Their clasped hands were trapped between their bodies, a Bat pressed against them on either side, and Steph tangled her free hand in Cass’s loose hair. Cass’s hand scrabbled at her side, like she was trying to pull her closer, but unsure how, given that they were pressed as tightly together as humanly possible.  

Steph understood the urge; it felt like madness that they’d never done this, that they had reigned in all this want and all this love for so long.  

It came to her, suddenly, that she might have misinterpreted Cass earlier. That her tension had been unrelated to Batgirl, and instead related to something more visceral.

When they finally broke apart, breath coming fast and desperate, like they’d just single-handedly reigned in an Arkham breakout, Cass laughed, that bright, bell-like sound that Steph loved so much. She reached over, a mischievous grin on her face, and pressed two fingers against Steph’s shoulder. Pushed hard enough to knock Steph even more off-balance, then she said, “Tag.”

She took off, launching off the rooftop, her silhouette against the night a thing of beauty. Steph laughed herself, taking in one more deep breath of Gotham air, and raced off after her.

She thought that tonight, she just might catch Cass.

[flying-nightwing]

Act IV: The Finale

Hi people! Finally the last part of this short serie! Honestly I had no expactation for it but I think it might slither into my all time favourite things I’ve written. I won’t lie, I think I’m in love with this last chapter. I feel like it’s the part we really understand both characters and their motivations in relation to each other. Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! 

Edit: I realize I have kept this gender neutral! so I change it on the infos on the first part and this one

Parts 1-3 in Masterlist!

Pairing: Tim Drake x gender neutral reader

Word count: 3456

Warnings: language, mention of violence (non-graphic)

“... And this is why I have taken the decision to repeal the vigilante act. All measures taken by the city and GCPD to collaborate with vigilantes on the matters listed are to be repelled at this instant. We will no longer tolerate criminals telling us how to protect our city and all arrest mandates out for vigilantes are to be reactivated--”

Tim passed a hand in his face after Bruce turned off the TV. There was some serious tensions going on in the batcave, especially after this gruesome live tape of the mayor, visibly held hostage in some kind of basement, delivered the new order to cancel all the work they had achieved to at least stop the cops from trying to hunt them down instead of focusing on actual crime. 

The first thing he had done once he came back to the cave was to research you in any database he could hack into. He started in the state registry, knowing you had told him you had been an orphan. He had no idea what was a lie and what wasn’t in what you had told him, but that was apparently true. The picture attached was a younger version of you, that was clear, but any update on your whereabouts stopped at age 11. Then, he tried to look for a driver’s license, passeport, any ID documents you could have. He also hit a dead end with that too, so he looked into less savory types of repertories. 

He finally found you in the mercenary databases, with a clear, recent picture and your… Impressive record. As he scrolled down your list of confirmed hits, he felt his stomach sink further and further. Marco Rizzo, the philanthropist, the kidnapped mayor, and it went on and on. What truly put him on the floor, however, was to see your credentials. You were Falcone’s main gun and you had trained under various mentors including Slade Wilson, out of all people.

You were the real deal and he had let himself fall for you, hard.

He felt stupid now. Did you even know who he was at night? Had you gone to him to throw him off your scent? Even after discovering all of this about you, a part of him still hoped you had no clue. It would hurt less to know it was a coincidence you bumped into each other rather than a calculated move from you. 

“So… Your date uh?”

Tim cringed when Bruce spoke up. It was even worse to hear it out loud. 

“I don’t wanna hear it” He mumbled, keeping his eyes dead set on the wall. He knew he had acted irresponsibly, he knew he should have seen the signs sooner, he knew he should have remained alert and not let himself be charmed by you, or let himself be sidetracked from his mission. It was a rookie mistake. 

“Talk about sleeping with the enemy” Damian snorted from behind them. Tim turned around, glaring at him. He was sitting in a computer chair, casually eating noodles with chopsticks and watching the exchange like it was a movie. Of course, the demon had spied on the conversation.

“Damian!”

“What?” He looked at Bruce, shrugging nonchalantly.

Bruce sighed, shaking his head. He returned his attention to Tim again. “What do you want to do now?”

Tim didn’t reply straight away. He was conflicted, angry, sad, disappointed; he had rarely felt such a cocktail of emotions like that. On one hand, he wanted to wallow in self pity. It seemed like the one thing left to do, as life finally sent someone he could see himself get with but made them the exact opposite of what he stood for. But he couldn’t, he had to put a stop to this madness. He had to confront you. 

“We’ll need to set a trap” He finally spoke, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “A contract that can’t be refused, draw them out. I’ll take care of it, it’ll be better that way”

“Are you sure you’ll be up to it?”

“Yes” Tim snapped, and Bruce took a careful step back. “I won’t be fooled twice. I can do it”

“Alright, just making sure” Bruce wasn’t convinced, but he still trusted his son. He knew he'd do the right thing if push came to shove. “What did you have in mind?”

Tim took a deep breath. “50 millions for a bullet in Bruce Wayne’s head”

---

It was too good to be true, and your suspicions of foul play were confirmed when your eyes spotted the red and black sticking out of the grim portrait of Gotham’s roof tops.

You knew something was up when you were offered a 50 millions solo contract. You usually went out for 15 millions for high profile targets, but curiosity got the best of you. The only thought of potentially pocketing that much money was enough of a motivation for you to at least find out what was up. But now, it was clear it was a set up as Red Robin himself was waiting for you. It was too bad for the money, but the prospect of facing a real Gotham vigilante for the first time was exciting. 

“I’ve beaten you twice already” You smirked. “You called me for a third?”

A scowl set on his masked face. “Trust me, there won’t be a third” He spoke up in a gravelling voice. “Either you come with me here and now, or we do this the hard way”

“Oh, now you’ve got me interested” You teased as you circled him. “Do tell me more about this hard way of yours”

He deployed his staff. Your eyebrows raised at his challenge. “You’re arrogant” He stated. He wasn’t wrong. “It’s gonna be your downfall”

“... Or not” You shrugged, not stopping your assessment of him. “Still waiting on the monologue detailing your plan to stop me, by the way”

“There isn’t one”

He lunged. He did it so quickly and smoothly you almost didn’t see him move. Your reflexes allowed you to roll out of the way just in time, and the way the staff collided with the cement told you it wouldn’t have been a long fight if that had hit its intended target: you. You looked at him and you regained your footing, reevaluating the situation. You were skilled, but you doubted it would be enough to go toes to toes with Red Robin, now that you had had a glimpse of what he could actually do.

You raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Catch me if you can”

Before he could process your world, you turned around and jumped off the building, landing on the roof a dozens of feet lower. You didn’t waste time taking off, knowing he would be right behind you. You ran across the rooftop and leaped off the ledge and above the alley to grab onto the fire exit on the next building over. You hurried to climb it, ending up on yet another rooftop. You ran alongside the pool and jumped over the tables, kicking them back to try and slow down Red Robin, who was little by little gaining on you. Fuck, he’s fast, you thought. You weren’t even tempting to look back, but you knew with the sound of his footsteps alone. 

You hadn’t planned on him being able to follow you that easily, not even cursing behind you as you took another jump over a considerable gap between buildings. You were fast, faster than most. Making exits had always been your strong suit, whether it was on foot, by car or otherwise. However, the only times you had faced him were when you had a rocket launcher as a deterrent or when you were driving an actual race car. Now that the field was levelled, you didn’t have the advantage anymore. You knew you wouldn’t be able to outrun him if you kept going on that way, so you had to change your strategy.

You took a sharp turn to the left and grabbed a clothesline, pulling out a knife from your belt and severing in behind your grip. You took a good running start and let yourself fall on the building on the other side of the street, pausing to glance at Red Robin standing where you had just been seconds ago. He was trying to find another way to cross, but there was none and even he couldn’t make that jump. You gave him a wave and a wink before taking off again. However, on the corner of your eyes, you still could see him tracking you relentlessly, not letting you get away so easily. 

You jumped over an alley, and instead of landing on the next roof, you aimed for the first balcony from the top. With your shoulder first and your head tucked in, you went straight through the sliding door window and rolled on the landing to smooth your fall. You glanced beside you at the terrified man in his underwear who was cowering on the couch and looked behind you, shrugging.

“Sorry for the mess” You didn’t wait until he replied to walk out the apartment. You jogged down the stairs, knowing Red Robin would have lost your trace now. Or so you thought.

You halted your steps when you noticed him waiting at the bottom of the staircase and leaning on the rail with a nonchalant expression, like it had been easy to predict you would come out that way. He returned the little sarcastic wave you had given him minutes earlier, making your face fall. You turned around and climbed back the steps back to the first floor, barging in and running across the hallway until you reached the window at the end. You took the time to open this one, seeing as he had not yet reached the floor. You slipped through it and climbed down the wall to land into the back alley. You were about to head for the streets when an already too familiar red and black figure blocked your way.

You took off in the opposite direction, well, until you came face to face with a brick wall. There was nothing to climb onto, no fire exit to use, no way to get away. You closed your eyes and cursed under your breath as footsteps reached you. He wasn’t in a hurry, his pace was tauntingly slow and confident he had you trapped. You recomposed yourself before turning around to face him.

“You forced me to make a mistake” You stated with a sigh. “Impressive”

“Told you” He said, taking a step toward you. “Arrogance did end up being your downfall”

“I don’t suppose we could have a rematch, uh?” You tried, smiling coyly. “That staff didn’t seem such a bad idea in hindsight”

“If you thought you could win then, you wouldn’t have dragged me into this pointless chase” He scoffed, and your eyebrows raised. He was right, but damn. “Unless you want a beating at that too”

“Ouch” You chuckled. “That really hurts my pride”

“Good” He smirked. “Now that you know you won’t get away from this one, just do the logical thing and surrender. There’s nowhere to go”

You held eye contact for a moment before slowly raising your hands. “Alright” You complied with a nod. “You earned that one”

He took careful steps toward you, alert to whatever quick move you would do. But you could recognize when you were beaten, so you didn’t plan any surprise move. Getting caught by a vigilante was an eventuality, even you knew you wouldn’t escape them forever. You just didn’t think it would have been this soon. He grabbed your wrists, and once he was sure he had you solidly enough, he twisted your arm behind you and pushed you rather roughly into the brick wall.

“Woah there champion” You coughed out in surprise. “I feel that spark between us, I really do, and I admit I am partially to blame for it, but I’m kinda seeing someone? And I’m really into him so if you could just. Stop manhandling me that way, that’d be great”

You felt him take a considerable step backward, and his grip on your arm dropped. You frowned, carefully turning around to face him. You didn’t understand why he had let you go, and his blush combined with his bewildered expression only made you more confused.

“Okay, what is going on, now?” You asked, not taking your eyes off him. It was like he was a completely different person now, and you couldn’t point out exactly why it was suddenly so familiar. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, jeez”

“I’m not” He defended too quickly, his voice wavering. Your eyes squinted even more as you took one step forward. He didn’t move, it was like he was frozen in place. “It doesn’t matter. It’s over for you”

“Uh” You took another step, and he squared up, trying to cover the fact he had totally lost his edge over you. You could have made a run for it, you knew it would have been ridiculously easy at that moment to evade him, but something held you back. You scrutinized him, your head tilting to the side. He gulped, and suddenly it all pieced together. That reaction to your flirting, you knew it all too well. Your eyes widened, before you gave him a sympathetic smile. “You know, while this mask does suit you, I prefer to see your eyes, handsome”

His muscles tensed for a second or two, but his shoulder sagged soon after. He sighed and rubbed his forehead. “How long have you known?”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean, how long?” You asked. “Thirty five seconds ago”

“You didn’t know before?”

“Uh, no” You replied. “What does it matter?”

“You… You didn’t go on a date with me to distract me from your trail?”

“No, I went on a date with you because I like you?” You raised an eyebrow. “I would have been way more careful with my lies if I had known, fuck I was so obvious, no wonder you figured it out. Besides, I just told you I’m really into you--”

You were surprised by the sudden movement of his arm that sneaked behind your neck and brought you flush against his lips. Okay then. You returned the kiss without hesitation holding on to his shoulders under the sheer force he was applying against you. It was a lot different from the shy boy you had met at the racetrack, but then again, he was Red Robin right now, more so than Tim Drake. You could have never connected the two if it hadn’t been from your flirting from up close. Before you knew, he tore himself from you and jumped back like you were actual fire, cursing under his breath. You blinked slowly at his sudden absence from your immediate vicinity, then rolled your eyes. Dramatic much?

“What is it now?”

“You’re still a criminal” Now he refused to meet your eyes. 

“Are you-- Is this because of what happened in the alley the other day?” You sighed, throwing your hands up before letting them fall back and slap on the side of your thighs. “I’m sorry, okay? I wouldn’t have ran you into the garbage pile if I had known it was you. And I wouldn’t have threatened you with a rocket launcher either-- Shit okay I see your point, I’m really sorry about that too”

“No!” He yelled. “I mean, yeah, kind of. But you kill people for a living, I can’t--”

“What does it change?” You asked. “You liked me before you found out. You were about to hand me to the police, I still like you! In fact, if you could ram me into the wall once again like you just did, I wouldn’t--”

“Please stop talking”

You grinned. “Does it turn you on?”

“Y-No” He replied, correcting himself last second. You raised a subjective eyebrow. “Stop that”

“Stop what?” You asked innocently. “I’m just saying it’s on the table. If I had known it was you when you did it, I would have enjoyed it so you’re welcome to do it again”

“Do you ever stop flirting?” He deadpanned. He crossed his arms against his chest, but it definitely didn’t have the intended effect. Instead, you just checked him out even more, since his muscles were very well defined in that suit. You liked it.

“With you? Not a chance, handsome”

And here came the blush again. He looked away and gulped, ignoring your self satisfied smile. You could do that all day and never get bored of it. Still, you regained a somewhat serious expression for the conversation that was inevitably coming.

“So now what?” You spoke up. “You give me to the cops? We pretend nothing happened between us? Because I’ll be honest with you, I don’t want that. I meant it when I said I liked you”

“My job is to stop crime, and the people who commit it” He began with a sigh. “I just can’t ignore the fact that you are one of the bad guy”

“That’s valid” You nodded slowly. “But this is just a job. I don’t do it for the power trip of taking people out, I do it because I’m good at it, and because I like the money that comes with it. Although, I’ll admit I do enjoy making dramatic exits from time to time--all the time”

Tim snorted. Of course you liked your exit, that had been obvious from the start. But even if he did not agree with your job, or with the lack of morals that came with it, he had to recognize the difference between you and the typical Gotham criminal. From what he had found out so far about you, you never caused casualties in any of your contracts. You always kept the mess to a minimum. You were a far cry from the Joker or Poison Ivy, for that matter.

Even if you couldn’t see his eyes clearly, you could just see the gears turning in his head. Would it be so bad if he let you go? What if he kept seeing you? He could agree with you on one thing: behind his reluctance because of your job, he really didn’t want to pretend nothing happened. He liked you a lot, and it absolutely frustrated him that the one god sent person he instantly clicked with was on the other side of his moral spectrum. 

“Tell me” You said softly, bringing back his attention to you. “If you had never found out about my job, would you have asked me on a second date?”

“Yes” He didn’t hesitate in his answer. It was like you could read his mind, reminding him of how well you fit together. He wanted both to scream and to kiss you again. 

You took a deep breath, letting him think some more. You could very much suspect the news of your activities was harder on him than his were on you, so you understood the need to let him a little space while he figured it all out. You had half expected him to go ahead with his initial plan though, so you prepared yourself mentally for him eventually binding your wrists and dragging you to the nearest precinct. 

That’s probably why you were surprised when he took a step aside, no longer blocking you from leaving. You didn’t move, only stared at him.

“I won’t give you a free pass if I catch you doing shady stuff” He sighed, gesturing to the exit of the alley. “ But for this time, I guess I’ll see you next time you do something stupid”

“Not before?” You raised an eyebrow. The corner of his lips slightly lifted.

“Maybe before”

“Is that a yes on the second date?” You asked, hopeful. “7:30 next Friday at that lobster place you mentioned?”

“Will you be working that night?”

“I won’t!” You hurried to confirm. “I swear I won’t”

He let out a long sigh like he was reconsidering his entire life. “What the hell, sure”

“Great!” You grinned wide, stealing a quick kiss on his lips. 

“Go, now” He ordered, gaining back his more authoritative vigilante voice. Oof, that was hot, you thought, but you kept it to yourself for once. “Before I change my mind”

“See you on Friday, handsome!”

He watched you run out of the alley, finding himself suddenly excited at the prospect of seeing you again, whether it would be as Red Robin or as himself on a date with you.

[ggomos-maribat]

Rebirth Chapter 4 | Here

8 MONTHS AGO

Jon has resorted to flying over the city to quell his restlessness when he spots the figure on a rooftop. Upon closer inspection, he sees that it's an unconscious girl lying on the cement with her hair draped over her face. When he looks around, he realizes that the entrance to the rooftop is closed off. How did she get here?

After deeming it an emergency, he briefly looks at her with x-ray vision. No broken bones. No injuries. She's just . . . sleeping? Are those swords on her back? He contemplates flying away to get help.

He steps forward and sees her twitch. In a millisecond, the girl is on her feet, sword and unsheathed and pointed towards him.

Jon raises his hands in a placating manner. "Hey, wait! I'm not here to hurt you."

She scans their surroundings. "Where am I?"

"Me—Metropolis," Jon replies.

Her face darkens. "What day is it?"

"October . . . October sixteenth?"

She hisses under her breath. "A week."

"A week?" He blinks at her. "Do you have something to do with that weird light that appeared in the sky?"

It happened seven days ago: Jon spotted a circular light, a halo it seemed like, emerging from behind the clouds. It disappeared as quickly as it emerged, but it was a strange event nonetheless.

The girl ignores his question. "Who are you?"

"Umm . .  . Jon Kent. I saw you. I saw you on this rooftop."

While he prays that she doesn't question his presence in that abandoned building, she moves over to the edge of the rooftop, peeking at the city's skyline. Jon watches her movements carefully. A meta? There's definitely something odd about her. She subtly reminds him of Damian's guarded nature.

"Hey, are you okay?" Jon asks gently when she continues to stand unmoving.

". . . I don't know."

"What's your name?"

"Marinette."

Jon stifles his shock. That name rings a bell, and he has a gut feeling that she is who he thinks she is. He clears his throat. "Where did you come from?"

"I—I don't know."

He shifts in place. There's something amiss about her, so many questions in his head. I won't tell the others about this. Not yet.

---

Jon glides up the rooftop to see Marinette sitting cross-legged in her makeshift home. As far as he knows, she has escaped from somewhere when he found her, and she's trying to work out where to go and what to do with her newfound freedom. He helped her build a half-decent abode in a shed on the deserted rooftop, bringing her food, supplies, and trinkets to keep her occupied. All the while, he has vowed secrecy to her existence albeit the little information she gave about herself. Added to that, he also revealed his identity and powers to earn her trust.

"Here's today's paper," Jon chirps, handing her the newspaper. Marinette rubs her eyes and reaches out to grab it.

Jon settles beside her. Amnesia. She has amnesia. Marinette admitted to not remembering much about her life, which is why she asks for newspapers to keep up with the happenings of the world.

"Jon," she says.

"Hm?"

"Why are you helping me?"

He cocks his head to the side. "What do you mean?"

Her face contorts as she seemingly struggles for the right words to say. "What do you gain from helping me?"

"Nothing." What happened to her to make her say that? "You need help and I want to help you out. It's that simple."

Marinette bites her lip, adjusting her position to move closer to him. He subconsciously picks up on her racing heartbeat. She wraps her arms around herself. "I have—I have powers."

"Is that why. . .?"

She nods. "People have tried to take advantage of me."

Marinette tears off a corner of the newspaper and places it on the ground. She brings out one finger, which emits a dark-colored light pulsing with nothing but raw power. With one touch on the paper, it disintegrates into black dust.

"The League of Assassins," she utters. "They imprisoned me."

Jon's breath catches in his throat but he doesn't dare speak. He focuses his attention on the loose thread on his shirt as he listens.

"I have . . . I have these powers that are similar to the ones the Miraculouses hold," she explains. "Miraculouses are these—uhh, magical jewelry . . . In Paris. You already know about that."

"Yeah," he answers softly. It has become public knowledge after the death of Ladybug.

"My powers are not on the same level as Miraculous holders." She examines her hand. "I can only make a shield that covers a small area or myself, and the illusions I can cast are limited. But my powers are still deadly. The League wanted that. They trained me to be a killer after my revival."

"Revival?"

Her eyebrows draw together. "Lazarus Pits. I remember dying and coming back to life. But I don't remember my past life. The assassins never told me anything. After a year, I found out I can summon a higher power level, but it's extremely difficult to cast. It drains a lot of energy from me."

She looks into his eyes. "I used teleportation to escape that night. Because of that, I ended up sleeping for seven straight days."

Jon blows out a breath. She's brave. She opened up to me even if we've only known each other for a few months. Even if no wound permanently damages her skin, he can see her invisible scars from her time in the League. He tentatively places his hand on top of hers. "Thank you for telling me."

Marinette moves to wrap her arms around his neck, burying her face on his chest. "Thank you for staying with me," she whispers. "I—I don't know what to do now. There's nowhere for me to go."

Jon recovers from his surprise and hugs her back. She's never shown vulnerability before, never appearing frail in front of him.

He's tempted to tell her about her past, to have her go to Paris but he can't imagine the havoc it will wreak on the city and her family. We'll go through it slowly. He holds her tightly. But I can't keep her here forever.

"Don't worry," he murmurs, caressing her head. "We'll figure it out together."

"Promise?"

He smiles. "I promise."

---

Jon grins widely, finding himself relaxing as he converses with Marinette after a long day. He laughs, "I never expected you to be like this."

"Like what?" she quizzes.

"Sweet, a bit clumsy. Funny."

As Marinette tenses up, he realizes he's been careless with his words. Her hand flies to the hilt of her sword, expression tightening. "Do you know me?"

"What?"

"Jon. Do you know who I am?" Her gaze searches his, silently pleading for a truthful answer. Jon surrenders, lowering his head in guilt.

"You've mentioned things about me that I haven't told you." Her voice cracks. "Things I don't even know about myself. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I'm sorry," he says softly. "I wasn't sure how to tell. I didn't know if you wanted to know."

Marinette brings her knees to her chest, hugging them. "You're right. I don't know if I want to know. I feel like I'm living an empty life." She takes a deep breath. "But it's okay. I want you to tell me."

Jon internally prepares himself before spilling everything to her. How she used to be the deceased heroine, Ladybug. She lived in Paris. He fishes out his phone to show her pictures from the news: about Hawkmoth, about her death and burial.

He points to a picture of a couple on the screen. "These are your parents, Tom Dupain and Sabine Cheng." He scrolls down. "And your friends . . ."

"They don't look familiar." She brings her fingertips close to the pictures.

"I'm sorry," Jon apologizes. "I've only ever heard about you through people I know and the news. I don't think it does your former life any justice if you're hearing about it from me."

"It's alright," she says quietly. "I don't think I'd be returning to that life anytime soon."

A pang crosses over his chest. It must be difficult for her, to lose her life fighting to protect her city, and being revived by the Pits without a chance to rest in death. She suffered in the League's hands while detached from her identity.

"There's also one thing you should know," Jon adds, "Your . . . your biological father is Bruce Wayne and your mother is the sister of Sabine Cheng. This isn't public knowledge; I only knew from Damian, your half-brother."

"I was adopted."

"Yes. Apparently your father had been visiting you in Paris for years but he didn't tell his family until your death."

"My father." She sucks in a breath. "Bruce Wayne? Batman?"

Jon's eyes widen. "How did you know?"

"He and his family are subjects of interest in the League."

"Oh."

They descend into silence, with her head falling onto his shoulder and her fingers fidgeting. Jon rests his head against hers, keeping her calm heartbeat at the back of his mind.

"How do you feel?" He asks carefully.

"I don't feel anything," she mumbles. "I'm not supposed to be alive right now . . . I'm not who I was before."

"You don't have to be the same person," he consoles. "You can start anew if you want. What matters is what you choose for yourself."

"What if I return to Paris and everyone sees me differently?"

"Do you want to go back to your family?"

". . . No." Her hand slides towards his lap, which he immediately holds. "It's better for them to think I'm dead. Especially when I can't remember anything about them."

---

Jon stares at her packed luggage, one hanging on her shoulder and the other slung on her back. "Are you sure you don't want me to fly you there?"

Marinette shakes her head. "I don't want to raise any suspicion."

"But if you summon a portal, you'll end up crashing for a week."

"Considering the distance, it might be five days at most." She shrugs. "I'll cast passive invisibility after."

He doesn't want to let her go. Not just yet. But she started sensing powers from the Peacock Miraculous a few days ago, and said that sentimonsters are roaming around Paris. "Are you sure about the sentimonsters?"

"Positive. I can't make sentimonsters with my power right now, but I feel their presence like a Peacock holder can." She runs her fingers through her hair.

"What will you do when you get there?" Her death anniversary's coming up. What if the Waynes see her?

"Find a way to get rid of them." She bites her lip. "There are too many. They're going to attack the civilians."

"I mean, where will you stay? How will you survive there?"

"I'll manage on my own. Somehow," she moves closer to him. "You don't have to worry about me."

He's unconvinced. Like all of the Waynes, she has serious self-sacrificing tendencies, encouraged by regenerative and healing powers. Jon goes through his pockets and holds out a phone to her.

"It's my old one but it still works." He gazes down forlornly at the cracked screen. "Call me okay? Whenever you need anything at all, please talk to me."

She accepts the parting gift with a smile. "I will. Thank you, Jon."

"This isn't the last time we'll see each other."

"I know."

With the severity of the sentimonster hordes that she mentioned, he guesses that it's only a matter of time before the Justice League gets called in. He mentally vows to help if the mission comes up, if it means seeing her again.

Jon swallows a lump in his throat. "Be careful."

Instead of a verbal reply, Marinette lifts herself on tiptoes and presses a quick kiss on his lips. As soon as she pulls away, he tugs her back by the waist, bringing them in a deeper kiss and a tight embrace. The taste of her leaves a mark on him as his hands gently trail over her cheeks.

"Promise you'll be careful too," Marinette murmurs against his lips.

"I will." 

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Taglist: @tinybrie @the-coffee-fandom @laurcad123 @toodaloo-kangaroo

On AO3

[kandoesfanfics-writes]

Ooo. And if you're still up for it 125 with mari and tim?

Here’s the next one!!! Also, big shout out to @black-streak for the nicknames that Mari and Tim use for one another!!! Thanks for letting us use them.

Anxiety raced through Tim’s body as he swung across the rooftops of Gotham toward Damian and Marinette’s last known location.

The two had been sent to patrol the docs by Bruce earlier that night. They had reported seeing something suspicious. Marinette had asked for permission to get a closer look, and Bruce had approved it. She and Damian had then called back a few minutes later to report the Joker had just received some kind of shipment.

That had been almost an hour ago.

Dick and Jason had gone for backup, but it seemed things had gone haywire. The Joker, in his usual manner, had set up bombs around the perimeter. Several warehouses had been blown up, and only Dick was responding to their comms. Jason had come in for only a moment before his comm fizzled out.

Tim was trying not to think of the worst possible situation, but he couldn’t help himself. All he could think about was Marinette or Damian possibly blown to bits or Jason bleeding out somewhere. Thinking about his brothers being hurt wasn’t out of the ordinary for him, but Marinette?

For whatever reason, the thought of Marinette getting hurt made him nauseous. His chest tightened uncomfortably with the thought that she might be laying in the wreckage somewhere. She could be dead or dying. She could be alive, but captured by the Joker.

Tim honestly didn’t know which option was worse.

He could see the fires raging now. He rushed past the Gotham PD and fire department, not bothering to stop. He began trying to triangulate their last positions via their comms, but was also trying to scan the wreckage for bodies. He would find them. He had to find them.

He had to find Marinette.

Their comm links were flickering on and off which made Tim’s anxiety skyrocket. If the comms went dead, he wouldn’t be able to locate them. He could feel his lungs burning as he raced past Bruce and a bruised and bloody Dick. He could hear Bruce yelling at him, but he didn’t pay him any mind. The comms’ signals were getting weaker and weaker. He couldn’t afford to stop now.

Tim’s feet skidded across the pavement as he made a quick turn, hoping and praying that Cass and Steph were already there and looking as well. They needed to hurry. They needed to find them. They had to find them. They needed to—

“...Red… help… trapped… stuck… backup!”

Marinette.

He could hear his heart thudding in his chest as he tried to pick up the frequency. She had to be nearby if he could hear her.

“Ladybug! Ladybug, hang on! I’m coming!”

As Tim began to run in the direction of the signal, he could hear Marinette better. She sounded okay, if a bit panicked. Apparently Jason had shoved her out of harm's way before getting trapped himself by falling debris. Damian was also stuck, having tried to help Jason. Marinette was struggling to free them on her own.

He felt as if his chest were going to explode the second he rounded the last corner.

There she was.

Marinette was standing over two half-buried bodies. She was struggling to hold up a steel beam, and it appeared the two people were either dead or unconscious. Her head snapped to the side upon hearing Tim’s footfalls, and her eyes widened the second she saw him.

“RED! Red, hurry! Hood and Robin are unconscious, and I can’t hold this up forever!” she shrieked.

Tim didn’t hesitate. He carefully dug around his brothers, trying to clear enough to free them. Thankfully, Cass and Steph had finally managed to catch up with Tim. They began to help unearth Jason and Damian. Once the two had been pulled out, Marinette finally let the bean drop.

She was shaking from the exertion, and Tim didn’t hesitate to pull her close. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, feeling himself shake as well. He thought he’d lost her. He thought she’d been hurt… but here she was. She was perfectly fine, if a bit tired.

He gently guided Marinette away as Bruce reappeared to help the girls with Damian and Jason. Once they were out of the Gotham PD and Fire Department’s way, Tim stopped, grabbing Marinette’s hands.

“Marinette?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to kiss you now.”

“Okay.”

Tim released Marinette’s hands to gently cup her face. He leaned in slowly, giving Marinette time to change her mind if she wished. He felt her tilt her head up and felt the gentle brush of her soft lips. The kiss was tender, hesitant as both tested the waters. They separated for only a moment before Tim pulled her flush against him and kissed her with everything he had.

When they broke apart, Tim whispered, “I thought I’d lost you.”

“I’m sorry,” she said in a quiet voice.

“I love you, ma lutine,” he said sweetly. “Let’s get back to the cave.”

Marinette smiled as she took Tim’s hand.

“I love you too, mon somnambule.”

* ma lutine- my elf/pixie*mon somnambule- my sleepwalker

[xaphrin]

@chromium7sky - oops? My hands slipped?  [based on your art]

Show me your injury. 

At the time, Raven didn’t know how much those words would change her life - every aspect of it. If she could go back to the past and tell herself to never ask such a ridiculous question, she would. She would save herself from the sleepless nights and wandering thoughts. 

It started off innocent enough, but wasn’t that how everything started? Innocently. Damian was halfway across the world on a mission with Dick, and he’d gotten an injury he thought he patched well, but it was getting more and more painful by the day. Or, that was his story. His texts were frantic - or frantic for Damian. He never asked for help, at least not in front of other people, but in private he would send Raven text messages, asking for whatever help she would give him.

And that was how all of this started.  

Her phone buzzed and she glanced at the message, looking for the wound, and-

What.

What?

The heat in her chest burned so hot and so fast, she thought her clothes were going to catch fire. Without warning, Raven dropped her phone, scrambling for it before it hit the floor of her room. She glanced down at the picture again, taking a deep breath and trying to cool her head before she became a blathering mess.

Heat curled up her neck again and she locked the screen, setting it on her bed and walking around the room to try and cool off. Raven crossed her arms over her chest and swallowed air, letting it out slowly as she tried to clear her thoughts. It didn’t work. Nothing worked. All she could think about was… that. Holy Hades. 

When did that happen?

When did Damian - tiny, grumpy, sourpuss, always-right, think-i’m-better-than-you Damian - become a… a beefcake? True, they were the same age. And true, puberty had been good to him, she just didn’t realize how good. Puberty had been fucking magical to Damian, apparently. She swallowed hard, feeling like her heart was going to jump out of her chest. Her phone buzzed again, and Raven’s hands shook as she tried to weigh the pros against the cons of looking at her phone again. 

Con: She might actually type back something stupid. 

Pro: She would get to see… that again. 

Her phone buzzed a third time, and Raven steeled her nerves the best that she could and unlocked her phone, showing two new images on the screen. His back - chiseled from granite, and his chest again, hands lifted above his head so that his whole form had a subtle, gentle curve. Oh, gods. He had to be showing off. 

I think the bruise is getting better, but I’m worried about internal bleeding. 

Bruise? What bruise? Raven’s eyes searched the image, until she came across a small bruise against his hip. Yellowing, older, and not anywhere near an important organ. Her heart jumped into her throat and she swallowed it back down where it belonged. Damian was full of shit. Her face fell and she locked her phone, practically throwing it back on his bed and storming through her room again. He was egging her on, trying to see how far he could push her before she snapped. He had to be. 

She took a few minutes to try and cool her head before responding. You look fine. Just put some ice on it and you’ll be running around rooftops again in no time.

She watched three little dots flicker across the screen. 

Can you come over and just look really quick?

Every part of her wanted to scream YES. Yes, she wanted to find herself halfway around the world and put her hands on that. Gods, did she want to put her hands on that. But, no. No, she wouldn’t let him think that he had the upper hand. Not in this case. Even though denying him was practically painful at this point. 

Sorry, I’m swamped here. Finishing up paperwork from this afternoon. Ice will work.

Ice would work. Wet, cold, slippery ice sliding over his too-hot skin, droplets tangling in that thin, dark line of hair that disappeared under the white hotel towel. Raven bit her lower lip and sat on the edge of the bed, looking through the pictures again, a glutton for punishment. 

I’ll be back tomorrow night. 

Raven fell back on the bed, running her tongue over her lower lip. She glanced down at the pictures again, her legs clenching as she thought about- 

Oh fuck it. 

Damian wouldn’t know, and it would be her secret.

Raven slipped her hand down her loose pants and into her underwear. The first touch of her fingertip against her clit made her feel like her whole body was about to go off. She lifted her eyes to the pictures again, sinking her teeth into her lower lip as she met his curious stare through the screen of the phone. It was like he was in the room with her, stalking towards the bed as if he were a predator, ready to take her. She shivered and sunk two fingers inside her, pumping slowly. Yes. Oh, gods, yes. She was already embarrassingly wet, and a shade of shame colored her cheeks. She should have had a better hold on her emotions, but how could she, when that was what she was faced with?

A low groan escaped, rattling her bones as she thought about his hands running over her own skin, finding all of her guarded secrets. The phone dropped from her clumsy hand, landing on her chest. She closed her eyes and spread her legs wide, sinking her fingers deep as her thumb brushed up against her clit, each stroke making her twitch. Her breath was coming in short gasps and she moved her hand fast, imagining those deep green, bedroom eyes that made her shiver. Her head tipped back into the soft covers, and she let go of a low whine, feeling a knot of pleasure start to tangle just below her navel. 

“Raven…”

Raven’s imagination was definitely something, even his voice sounded real. Raven gasped as she felt her muscles start to flutter around her fingers. She was so damned close. Another whine escaped, followed by a breathy, “Damian…”

Her body tightened and she felt sparks snap over her skin. She twisted her head and bit the collar of her t-shirt, letting the darkness start to bleed through her as she rocketed through the stars. Raven muffled her scream as her orgasm rippled through her, thudding like a hundred wild animals racing through her thoughts. She gasped and moaned, shuddering against her blankets and riding out every wave of pleasure, until she was spent against her bed. 

She sighed and slowly opened her eyes, staring up at the ceiling. That was… delicious.

“So…” 

Damian’s voice echoed like an explosion through the silence of her room, and Raven scrambled for the phone on her chest. Her clumsy fingers must have called him when she dropped the phone. Oh no. 

Shock and shame warred with each other, and Raven stared at the screen, unsure of what she was supposed to say. Sorry I was masturbating to your pics? Don’t be so hot next time? She swallowed again, gritting her teeth as she tried to think of something - anything - she could say to make this right.  

Damian cleared his throat, his deep voice wavering slightly. “I wasn’t expecting that kind of reaction.”

[mochinek0]

D8-RobinHood AU

Robin felt his hair stand on end as he instincts took over and called him from his slumber. His green eyes scanned the room and set on a figure in the dark.

'Selina?' No. Too small and thin.'

"Who are you?" he called out.

The girl strolled into the moonlit window, batting her eyelashes at him, showing off her bright blue eyes that offset the black domino mask on her face. Damian's eyes scanned over her outfit. She wore a cat outfit similar to Selina's except there was a lime green accents and cat ears upon her braided hair.

"You have a good set of eyes." She purred.

"Are you Selina's new pick of the litter?" he questioned.

"Who?" the blue eyed cat asked.

"You're the second female cat to enter this house." Damian glared, "She's already comes and goes as she pleases."

"Fine. I wasn't looking for a place anyways." she pouted, "Tell the cat I'll keep clear of her place."

Damian eased the knife out from under his pillow as the figure showed him a Cheshire smile.

"I'm Robin Hood." she smiled.

"Gotham already has a Robin." he glared, slipping the knife into a comfortable position.

"Yeah, but I dress better." she stated, throwing him a kiss, as she dashed out the window with a small bag in hand.

Damian quickly threw the covers back from his bed and ran to the window.

The feline jumped with ease over the tall gated fence and ran to the rooftops.

'Time to catch a kitten.' he thought as he raced of out his room to the BatCave, soon to follow in his father's footsteps.

@daminette-december2019