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woahajimes · 4 years ago

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Have you ever wondered how Damian would handle an instagram account?

For starters, Damian doesn’t even know he has an instagram account. It’s until Bruce answers a question at an interview that Damian finds out he has an instagram account. Bruce had created it for him, for god-knows-what reason. Yet Damian has to act like he has known all along, that he has an instagram account.

Once Bruce gets him settled into a username that very literally is just Damian’s name as the son of the billionaire, Damian does absolutely nothing. He doesn’t follow anyone, he doesn’t post anything. He doesn’t even have a profile picture. For all everyone knows, Bruce Wayne could have lied and that account is just some rando’s.

And months pass, Damian’s account is the literal same every single day, and trust me, people have checked. Damian couldn’t actually care less about his instagram account, the only reason he hasn’t deleted the app completely is because he rarely even uses his phone. He just carries it around in his pocket when he’s out as Damian Wayne.

It’s almost a year, and Damian is out with Dick, they’re getting lunch or something. Dick has ordered a burger, Damian stuck with a veggie option. And they’re about to start eating and Dick takes out his phone, snaps a picture.

“What are you doing?” Damian asks him.

Dick stares at Damian. “It’s for my instagram story.” And then he starts typing some caption or something.

And even though I, op, don’t have younger brothers, I do have a younger sister and I can tell you that little siblings copy like, everything you do. And I know we’re talking about Damian, but still. Damian took his phone out and he snapped a picture, Dick in the shot as well. He posted it in his story, he didn’t put a caption.

And then later that day, Damian remembered that he hadn’t saved that picture he took. So he opened the instagram app and he saw a little circle around his empty profile picture. He decided that he liked it. It went from purple to pink to orange to yellow to orange to pink and back to purple.

So this became a routine of his, after all, it would cost him next to nothing. To take a picture and post it on his story. It would keep the little ring around his profile picture. And he’d get replies to his stories and he’d get tagged in pictures and he’d get thousands of followers and he’d get tagged in comments and new requests and all those things that famous accounts get.

And it’s not like the pictures ever made sense. The first week they were things like the cover of his sketchbook, or this plant he found in the garden. Maybe it was the map on his wall, or alfred the cat and titus. He wouldn’t even take time with these pictures. He’d just remember every day about the little circle around his default profile picture and he’d grab his phone, and he’d take a picture of the nearest thing he could find. He never bothered to write a caption, nor put a song, anything.

And as time passes, the logic of the pictures becomes blurry. Why would the heir of the richest man in gotham post a picture of a crack on the pavement?

But sometimes, people doubt that Damian even takes these pictures. Because sometimes they’re pictures of gotham at night, when the sky is pitch black, starless. And this one time, Damian is out on patrol, the sun is rising, he still hasn’t gone home. The sky reminds Damian of the little ring around his profile picture. So Damian sets his phone to record automatically and so it records towards the sunset. And because Damian would place himself against the light, the figure would look pitch black, a plain shadow against the sunset. So Damian sets his phone and he takes his cape off, he has his grappling hook, but he’ll use it once he’s out of the camera shot. And then he gets the video going (his phone is leaning on a plant pot, there’s another building that ends nearly as the camera shot begins. So Damian swings from where he set his phone, to the other building, and he just.

Jumps.

He’s jumping headfirst and he’s whooping loudly, laughing almost. He’s done this so many times yet something is just nicer.

it was awesome.

And he posts the video, but silences it. Nobody can see Damian’s uniform, nor his mask. For all they know, Damian hired someone to jump, or maybe he even threw a mannequin or something.

That was the only video Damian posted on his story. The rest, every other day, theRE were just pictures.

We skip time a bit more and Damian was with Jon, when he still lived in hamilton. They were by the tree they were always at, and Damian was taking a picture of the bark of the tree. Because bark.

And Jon just stares at Damian. “What the h are you doing?”

Damian shrugs. "Just taking a picture.”

Jon snatches the phone from him. They’re close enough friends. He goes to the camera and holds the phone up straight, he sets it to the front camera.

“My mom does this all the time,” he says. “She calls them selfies.”

Jon snaps a picture. Then he checks it. He’s smiling, Damian is not. “You’re so lame! Did nobody ever teach you how to smile?”

Jon snaps a second picture, Damian’s still not smiling. Third picture, Damian’s expression moves a bit, but it's just him rolling his eyes.

“Come on, Damian! SMILE!” Jon takes another picture, he checks it. Damian’s smiling dramatically, he looks like Jon looks in family pictures he doesn’t want to take. He’s not smiling with his teeth, his eyes are practically closed, his nose is scrunched up. If anything, he looks more disgusted than happy. “Ugh, we’ll just try another day, i guess.”

This became a sort of routine. Every day they saw each other as civilians, Jon would take a selfie with Damian. Sometimes he smiled, if he was in the right mood. It didn’t really matter, Damian never posted those pictures on his story.

Now we take Damian’s fourteenth birthday. This, Damian decides, is a much better way to spend his birthday than the last one. Bruce isn’t there, but his brothers are, his best friends also are. Alfred and Jon, Dick, Tim, and Jason. They’re eating strawberry cake, with the ‘happy 14th!’ in pink frosting and everything. It is now his first option, thanks to Alfred.

Anyways, they’re slicing the cake, Damian just blew out the candles. Jon takes his phone out, the one he got when he turned eleven. He doesn’t have an instagram account, Lois wouldn’t let him, but Jon still takes a picture of everything.

Alfred asks Damian for his phone, so he can take a picture. Damian shakes his head, yet he takes out his phone. He’s at the head of the table, he puts his phone on the front camera. He hands it to Alfred.

“Jon likes to call them ‘selfies’,” Damian explained. He showed Alfred. “Here, you take them like this.”

Damian took his phone back from Alfred, he stretched his arm with the phone. He called out Tim’s name, and all of them looked up.

“Smile!” Damian snapped a picture, he grinned. He looked at the picture, he liked it. Alfred was grinning, like in that picture in which he’s with Bruce when he was little, and they’re both laughing at something.

Damian decided that this picture was too nice for it to go on his 24-hour ring. Besides, he had already put a picture of Jason helping prepare the frosting. He didn't need two stories in the same day.

So he drafts the post, and there’s the option to edit the image, but Damian skips it. It’s nice as it is.

He posts it, he doesn’t write a caption.

taglist: @hauntingsonofrobin @bikoncon @catxsnow @screennamealreadyused @thesporklecat @thesesickfics-justmakemesick andd i think i got it all idk

#OKAY ALSO DAMIAN LOOKS AT THE PICTURE AGAIN AND HE NOTICES HIS NOSE SCRUNCHES UP WHEN HE SMILES AND HE GOES huh #damian wayne #jon kent #dick grayson #nightwing #robin #alfred pennyworth #dick and damian #jason todd #damijon #ALTHO NO BUT LIKE HAHA #damian wayne headcanon #damian wayne x reader #or not but like it's an existing tag #lunatick #if you wanna be in my taglist send me an ask or comment lol i- you HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH GUTS IT TOOK TO WRITE A TAGLIST I HAVE LIKE FIVE

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butwhyduh · 4 years ago

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Sickening

You looked at the blood in your sink. It was becoming sticky and rust colored at the edge. It probably wasn’t a lot but it certainly looked like it. The fact that you weren’t exactly sure who’s it was made you feel sick. You closed your eyes and grabbed some towels to clean it.

After spraying your sink heavily with antiseptic, you scrubbed your hands clean and left the room. Your boyfriend laid out on the couch. Normally you found it a little funny the way his long body would hang over the arm. Now you were worried.

“Jason,” you asked. What is going on? He sighed and rubbed his eyes.

“I got in a fight. It’s no big deal. You know how assholes in Gotham are,” he said. As if to emphasize his point, the sound of police sirens sounded close by. Yeah, this place was rough.

And Jason certainly looked like he had recently been in a fight. His knuckles were red and raw. He had a bruise blooming on his forearm. And his grey shirt had little specks of black that you couldn’t help but wonder was blood.

“Why are you always covered in bruises? Is that the assholes in Gotham?” You asked, sitting on the coffee table.

“You could say that,” he muttered under his breath. “I guess people just want to punch me. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

“You need a bath,” you said. “I’ll throw your clothing in the wash.”

“I’m fine-“

“You’re covered in blood and I’m not sure it’s yours,” you said. Jason slowly rose from the couch and you see that he favored one shoulder over the other one when pushing up. Probably also bruised. Or worse.

He all but stumbled into the bathroom. You started a hot bath. Your small apartment didn’t have a shower attachment. Jason roughly pushed off his boots before grimacing as he pulled off his shirt and threw it in your tiny washing machine. That one was a gift from him that somehow your landlord was totally cool with despite being a complete ass.

His shoulder had nasty red and purple splotches of bruises and there was a small bloody area. He shoved his belt open and pushed off his pants and socks. Jason slid into the tub. He groaned. His long leg had his knees sticking out of the water almost comically.

You bent down and sat on the old tile floor. Someone, probably in the 1920s or something, had out tiny little white hexagon tiles all over the floor next to the claw foot tub. You grabbed a cup and started pouring water on Jason’s chest. He hissed before relaxing. Steam from the tub rose in the cold room.

“I worry about you. Worry what you’re doing. Why you won’t tell me what you’re doing. That you’re in trouble or something. Do you owe a gang money or something? Who hit you?” You asked softly. Deathstroke, Jason thought but he certainly couldn’t tell you that. His hard look soften a little.

“I don’t owe a gang money. Nothin like that,” he said. He couldn’t help but look at your face. You were too pretty, too innocent, too good for his world. He didn’t want you in this. Hell, he shouldn’t have talked to you in the first place because no one lasted long in his life. Jason knew that taking you on a date had been selfish. And everything after that was him being too weak to do the right damn thing.

You took the cup and poured water over his hair. The slight pink color had you grimacing. You didn’t push your questions. It was something Jason loved about you. He was a hard nut to crack and usually what worked best was time and space.

You grabbed your shampoo rather than Jason’s to wash his hair. There was no way that you were going to use his ‘mountain bear scented 4 in one shampoo, conditioner, body wash, motor oil’ when trying to pamper him.

You’d never washed his hair before. He’d definitely never let anyone close to washing him. Shower sex, great. But never something non-sexual and intimate as just being bathed. You ran your fingers through his hair letting the soap rub in. Jason literally felt goosebumps on his skin and he closed his eyes and leaned into your hand. You were the only person that he let touch him and high key, this was the best relaxation he’s ever remembered feeling. You ran your hands through his hair longer that necessary but you could tell that he wasn’t complaining. He groaned a little.

You poured the water over his head and was pleasantly surprised that the water was soapy but clear. At least there wasn’t a lot of blood in his hair. Jason bent and washed his face in the water. He had more stubble growing than he usually did.

“Do you wanna shave your face? I can do it,” you offered. For a fraction of a second his brow creased before he gave you a half smile.

“Not today. I’m good. Thank you,” Jason said holding your hand. He couldn’t exactly say that he didn’t trust anyone with any kind of blade near his face.

“Are you okay? Tell me what’s going on,” You said reaching a hand to his other cheek. His jaw clenched a little and his eyes almost looked hurt. He was thinking of all the people who had died because they knew a secret. Other vigilantes who’d lost their entire families for knowing their secret identity. But at the same time, Jason knew that you wouldn’t stay around forever and the lies were growing. He was going to do one more little selfish thing. He sighed deeply.

“I’ve gotta tell you something but I don’t want to scare you,” he said and his eyes showed so much worry and fear. He genuinely thought he might lose you over this.

“Scare me? Jay, what are you talking about?” You said confused. He inhaled nervously.

“I- I’m Red Hood! Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to say it so loud,” he said. Jason’s eyes searched your face. Your eyes were wide and you were frozen. His breath was all over the place in absolute fear. It was only a few seconds but he prayed for you to speak.

“Did you just say that you’re Red Hood?” You said faintly. Red Hood was infamous. Brutally murdered gang members, rapists, and traffickers. Even once famously fought the dark knight himself. The one continued theme of everything you heard: cold, cruel, and highly deadly. If you saw Red Hood, it was probably the worst day of your life, if not your last.

“Uh... yeah? Yes.” He gulped and watched you. His blue eyes were so round and worried.

“No. I can’t believe that,” you said. Jason, who would read Jane Eyr to you, that fed stray cats outside of the apartment, and was literally the sweetest boyfriend couldn’t be this killer. He looked down with a sarcastic smile.

“I’m Red Hood. That’s me. If you don’t believe me, there is a Glock 26 Gen 4 strapped to my bedside table. There are a few more around,” he said motioning around the apartment.

“You keep stuff here?” You asked with a mad look. Your head was spinning.

“No. Just some protection. None of the Hood stuff is ever here. I don’t want anything that could be found in this apartment. All the stuff here is new and never fired besides a few practice rounds. I try to be as safe as possible so you are never in danger,” he emphasized. You both sat in silence for a few minutes. The only movement was Jason’s fingers running along your hand.

“Why? Why do you do it? Be the Red Hood?” You asked finally. He expected that question but not right away.

“I should probably tell you how it started,” Jason said and he didn’t hold back. He told you about his parents, attempting to steal the rims from the batmobile, becoming Bruce Wayne’s ward, becoming Robin, being killed by the Joker, the lazareth pit, and becoming the Red Hood. By the time he was done, the water was cold and your legs were numb. “That’s why I have bruises and scars. Why I leave sometimes or miss dates.”

“I’m sorry,” you said softly. He gave you a look of confusion. What could you possibly be sorry for? “You shouldn’t have gone through that. You shouldn’t have needed to hide it from me. I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t scare you? You don’t want to run from a murderer?” Jason asked. His eyes searched yours for signs of fear or disgust.

“Is it really murder if they are evil? Or justice?” You said slowly and he winced at that word. Bruce certainly wouldn’t agree. “Every time I hear the question ‘would you kill baby Hitler’ I would. Without question. I would shoot a baby because I would be thinking about 6 million Jews and unknown others that died because of him. The bad guys always get out and make things so much worse.

“You’re going to have to tell me where all the weapons are here. I’m paranoid that I’m going to reach in the couch and grab a sword,” you said with a laugh, standing up. Sure, you were shocked. But that wasn’t going to make you run screaming into the night. Or maybe you were in shock? You’d find out in the morning.

“Swords are more my brother’s thing,” he said with a laugh. “I’ll show you. I’ve been wanting to teach you some self defense too.”

“We’ll get back to your brother being into swords later. But first, let’s get you out of that wet ass tub and into bed. Because I can’t process any more information tonight,” you said handing Jason a towel. He obviously favored his right shoulder when dressing in sweatpants before coming to the bed where he flopped down. The lights in the bathroom flickered and you rolled your eyes. That’s Gotham for you.

“I’ll fix that tomorrow,” Jason said quietly.

“Nevermind that. Do you want an ice pack?”

“No. I want you,” he said and you smiled a little before crawling in the bed. Jason moved around to lay with his head next to your chest snuggling close. It was almost comical the way the big man hugged you and laid in your arms. He needed to be close to you even though your arm on his waist made him clench in pain for a second before you moved to a better position.

“I don’t deserve you,” he said quietly. “You’re way too nice to me. Almost gullible. Like Baby, you live this way?” he said with a smile. His sarcastic defense was back up. You rolled your eyes.

“Maybe I’ve got a thing for the whole bad boy thing. Or that I know last week, you had cereal with water and honestly, that’s the ultimate weakness,” you said back and he gave you a rare grin.

“We were out of milk. Like what was I gonna do? Eat it dry? No.”

You kissed the corner of his mouth and he grimaced.

“Sorry. We should get some sleep. It’s super late,” you said.

“Yeah, sleep. Sounds great,” he said already drowsy. “I fucking love you,” he whispered before falling asleep.

#fns #friday night smut #Jason todd #red hood #red hood x reader #Jason todd x reader #Jason todd angst #Jason todd smut #batboys

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bigskydreaming · 4 years ago

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Sorry to bother you, but RE: the Jason Todd in Arkham thing, like, what was Dick supposed to do? Take him home to the same house where two of the KIDS that Jason had threatened/attacked were supposed to be living in what one hoped would be relative safety?

Like, full offence, Jason had at that point proven himself a danger to all the people around him. If he wound up at Arkham, oh well, maybe don’t kill a whole bunch of ppl and harm numerous others. If Arkham doesn’t work as a hospital, maybe he should have been at another one, but at that point in his character arc, a secure mental health facility was probably the best he could expect.

It’s like ppl forget he’s a multiple murderer with a history of targeting the ppl Dick loves. I don’t even read the comics and I know this much.

Oh for sure, I mean, I've posted meta about this before because the fandom accepted narrative gets it sooooooo wrong. Like, I'll always be right at the front of the line yelling IT WAS JASON'S CHARACTERIZATION THAT WAS CRAP THROUGH ALL THAT, THAT'S NOT JASON, GIMME NUANCE OR GIMME DEATH. Y'know, something like that.

But like, given that Jason was written as repeatedly trying to kill Dick's other two brothers its like, yeah?! What was Dick supposed to do? He'd tried asking Jason nicely hey could you stop doing that and Jason was like LOL no.

And also....people are like - Dick callously threw Jason into Arkham right next to the Joker and then just left him there and forgot about him and....SOURCE?

1) Dick didn't DO this to Jason, JASON went after Dick and Damian and in the process of fighting him in a very public space, Dick beat Jason and police were already like....right there? Dick didn't actually have the option of being uh no, you can't take this known and notorious criminal into custody, I'll stop you on the basis of - well I can't tell you actually but plz just trust me okay, he totes didn't mean it! (except like also, at that point he totes did, so.....)

2) What pull Dick DID have as Batman with the GCPD, he used to get Jason put into Arkham INSTEAD of Blackgate for his SAFETY. We know this to be true. Jason himself confirmed that absolutely nothing bad happened to him in Arkham, he just didn't want to be there but WHO THE HELL EVER WANTS TO BE IN A PRISON OF ANY SORT? And the first thing Dick said when Bruce said Jason had demanded to be transferred to Blackgate is that Jason wouldn't be safe there with all the enemies he had gunning for him. It was abundantly clear that Jason's safety had been a primary concern for Dick the whole time (and Jason wasn't safe at Blackgate, its just fine, he only wanted to be transferred in order to enact an escape plan that got like 80 people indiscriminately killed but whatevs. Its Gotham, what's a few dozen more dead criminals am I right? *rolls eyes at how often that little detail gets left out of the narrative).

3) Dick consistently put time, focus and Wayne Enterprises money into Arkham Asylum while he was Batman, since Arkham was being rebuilt from the ground up after it was blown up in Battle for the Cowl. Also, Dick had been one of the last 'patients' in the old Arkham, given that he went undercover to infiltrate the Black Glove while they were in control of Arkham and spent a week in there drugged to the gills, locked up and in a straitjacket before being almost lobotomized. He has every grievance with Arkham that fan writers like to PRETEND Jason has from his stay there, but Jason's only complaint was that he again, was bored, and he had to take psych evals every other week because it was after all, still a mental health institution. Dick did everything in his power at the time to make sure that even if Jason did have to be locked up to keep him from going after more people, like, it was going to be as humane as possible and the stuff that Dick himself had JUST experienced in the old Arkham WOULDN'T happen to Jason.

4) The Joker was literally nowhere near Arkham THE ENTIRE TIME. This is not a small detail, given that 'the Joker was just five cells down' is the entire basis of most writers' Jason-in-Arkham angst and the anti-Dick sentiments they tend to create. All the major Rogues escaped from the old Arkham in Battle for the Cowl BEFORE it blew up. That's why they're not DEAD. Dick's run as Batman was primarily about fighting the escapees. And Joker, very significantly, was clearly among those Rogues not present in Arkham during Dick's Batman run, given he was literally toying with Dick and Damian through most of it. Seriously, how much do people have to hate Dick and think the worst of him to think that he - the dude who btw, BEAT THE JOKER TO DEATH WITH HIS BARE HANDS FOR MAKING JOKES ABOUT KILLING JASON - would just....obliviously lock Jason up right next to the Joker and throw away the key?

Like...and it goes on and on, lol. I remember the first time I brought all this up in an argument with some Jason stans, they literally started laughing back and forth to each other in the replies about how someone was a bit too carried away with their own fanon, and its like...LMAO! Yes! Someone is! Its YOU! You are the people you guys are talking about, looooool, I can literally back all this up with sourced panels.

Buuuuuuut, c'est la vie.

I mean, this is nothing new for us, its literally Teen Wolf fandom alllll over again. Probably why I just said nope, not doing this again awhile back and was like umm actually I will NOT just be ignoring the blatant false narratives thrown around here just so that people happy with the fanon narratives that prioritize the characters they like and sling shit at the characters they don't can have their fandom just the way they want it at the expense of everyone else in it. You wanna push bad faith interpretations of specific characters at every literal opportunity, its like, that's cool! I got the drive! I can push back with actual facts, its all good!

But the most hilarious thing to me will always be how fucking INDIGNANT people get about that, like "How dare you point out the precedent we established in not caring about any fandom experience other than our own and thus being loud and everpresent with our preferred interpretations in an attempt to drown out any other possible interpretation just so that the most people possible would be influenced by us instead of anything else, and we'd get more of the content we like at the expense of any possible nuance whatsoever."

Like, the most common complaint I get is people griping about how damn often I'm saying "mmmm, no, this isn't what happened actually" and "okay but have you considered flipping the script BACK from the way you flipped it initially in order to get this weird ass interpretation of a superhero noted for his emphasis on emotional caretaking of his loved ones actually being this callous oblivious selfish jerk who tramples all over the feelings of everyone around them and makes them just the woobiest woobies that ever did woobie all throughout Woobieland?"

And I'm just like, okay see, I hear you, its just the thing is, the THING IS......

If you didn't want that to be the topic of conversation so damn often, then hey, just a suggesh, but maybe you shouldn't have devoted literal years to coming up with the most bad faith interpretations of this character possible at literally every available opportunity. Maybe there'd be like.....less reason for the topic to come up so often, if like....you by your own actions hadn't made it a necessary topic to tackle so often?

I DON'T KNOW, I'M JUST SPIT-BALLING HERE, DON'T MIND ME AND MY CRAZY-ASS IDEAS OF FAIR PLAY.

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itsmeevie01 · 4 years ago

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A Moment in Time- Ch 3

Whew! almost 3000 words later, here we are!

After extracting herself from her grandmother’s hug, she giggled and turned to make sure her parents were ok with her leaving the counter. After getting the approving nod from her mother who moved to fill her spot, Marinette skipped around to guide her Nona upstairs. The elderly woman laughed before tugging on her granddaughter’s arm to stop the over excited teen. “before we go and talk, my Fairy, I want you to meet someone. He was just going to put the up-” the bell rang again as Gina spoke, and when the duo looked over, Marinette froze. The smile that had been floating on her face sliding off in shock as a face came into view she hadn’t seen in 11 years.

“Jason?”

The room seemed to freeze at Marinette’s question, the crack in her voice pulling her parent’s attention. The man entering the building zeroed in on her, his eyes widening as he looked to where his name had been called. “Marinette.” He breathed her name before striding towards the small girl and pulling her into a tight hug. The teen clung to him in return, shaking as she was enveloped in her older brother’s arms for the first time in years.

“Are- Are you. This isn’t.”

“No, Mari, this isn’t a dream. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” A sob crawled its way up the teen’s throat as she buried her face in her brother’s shirt. From somewhere outside of their little world, the girl could her someone calling her name. Someone was trying to get her attention. Jason poked her in the side, obviously concerned. “do you want to answer them or should I?” when she looked up at him confused, her older brother sighed before smiling down at her. “I’ll take care of it.”

When Marinette finally started to tune back into the world around her, they were upstairs. When she looked around, she realized that it wasn’t late afternoon anymore, but it was mid-evening. The lights outside the window glowed in the darkness, and a light rain falling. Shaking her head, Marinette forced herself to focus on what was going on in the small sitting room of the apartment. Jason was still next to her, and Gina was perched on the side of the chair opposite them. Her parents were sitting on the couch, looking at her in concern. “I…. what did I miss?” Her father’s laugh made the embarrassed teen look up.

“Oh, little flower.” The fondness in his voice led to Marinette looking up. He made a face at hat that she returned, before the two started to laugh. Her mother elbowed him, before smiling at her.

“Welcome back, dear. Don’t worry, there weren’t too many stories making their rounds.” The girl flushed before turning back to her brother.

“what did you- “

“Don’t worry, Mari. I didn’t tell them any of the good stories. I just filled them in. It’s not every day that a strange guy comes in and starts hugging their kid.” She scowled at him before nodding.

“ok.”

“Marinette, why didn’t you ever tell us about Jason? If we had known…” The siblings cringed.

“I… um.”

“She got caught. At the time Marinette didn’t know where I was because I was trying to get her out without the police or social workers figuring it out.” Tom froze, confusion obvious on his face.

“what do you mean, Caught?” Jason glanced at his sister, surprised.

“you didn’t tell them?” the teen shrugged.

“I didn’t think that it was important once I got here. Jason, you know what it was like. Why would I want to relive it once I was away? It…it was like a fairy tale. Well,” here the girl flushed. “Once I stopped trying to run away and board a plane. Something about that made them kinda frustrated.” Her older brother threw his head back and laughed.

“only you Mari. Only you would try to sneak on a transatlantic flight.” He studied her. “how far did you get?” the girl smiled devilishly. “they were taxiing for takeoff before they realized that there was something wrong.” He snorted before holding his hand out for a high-five.

“nice.” The Dupain-Cheng couple gaped at the duo in shock while Gina laughed.

“you- you. Why is that. She could have been hurt!” Jason raised an eyebrow at that.

“Mr. Dupain, have you ever seen Mari in action? If she was going to get hurt, she would have gotten off or taken care of the threat.”

“I-she CAN?” the girl laughed.

“Papa, you have to remember how tame Paris is compared to Gotham. I don’t have the need for many of the skills I picked up while I was a kid. Plus,” here the girl sent her brother a side eye glare. “I felt safe here. And I kept an eye on Jason. I have an ongoing hack of the GCPD.” Jason froze before whipping around to gape at her.

“YOU WHAT.” The look of shock on her face made the girl giggle.

“I figured that if you were getting into trouble I would be able to see what was going on better that way. Of course, there is that other hacker…they keep pushing me out. But its fine. Whoever Oracle is, they are always a step behind.” Jason gapped at her.

“Mari. You’re out hacking Oracle? She-Uh THEY are legendary! It’s said that she helps the Bats!” The teen sniggered at his response.

“then they need a new hacker. I’ve been out hacking them since I was 8. And if you ever meet them, you are more than welcome to tell them that. It’s a shame, really.” Jason stared at her, shocked.

“oh Mari. PLEASE don’t pick a fight with the Bats again. Or, you know, their INTERNATIONALLY FAMOUS hacker.” She raised an eyebrow at him.

“wanna bet? I can win a war with them by the end of the week. And the Bats are just wimps. We’ve been over this.” Gina Dupain chose this moment to interrupt her granddaughter.

“Marinetta, what does Jason mean start a fight with Batman again?” The teen started ton invent new shades of red.

“I…may have started loudly calling Robin names and when he came to stop me I beat him in a fight. With Jason’s help, of course.” The older woman studied Jason with a knowing look that confused Marinette before she shelved the conversation for another time.

Through the din of the conversation that the five had fallen into as Jason and Marinette caught up and Gina explained how she knew Jason, cut the dinner timer. Sabine smiled and she rose to gather the plates needed for the group. As she did so, she motioned Marinette to join her. Once the two were standing over the oven as Sabine pulled out the chicken and Marinette served the rice and green beans to go with, the mother paused and looked at her daughter in worry. “Marinette, why didn’t you tell us about your brother? We could have tried to bring him over-” she was cut off by the noirette shaking her head.

“no, mama. Jason was the one to teach me to avoid CPS and the GCPD. Everything I knew? He knew and was able to do better. I was caught because I was trying to help another kid who didn’t know what they were doing and took me down with them. The only reason he got caught at all is probably because he did something incredibly stupid and daring.” The Chinese woman nodded before pulling her daughter into a hug.

“well I’m glad that we got you, even if its because of another person’s mistakes. You are the greatest blessing in your father’s and my life.” The girl ducked her head as she hugged her mother in return.

“I love you too, mama.”

At dinner, Gina regaled them with stories of her adventures with Jason. When Tom expressed his surprise at some of the things Jason had tagged along on the Gotamite laughed.

“you do know the only reason Bruce got me was because I was caught stealing the tires off the Batmobile, right?” Marinette choked, snapping to lock eyes with her mother.

“I told you he did something stupid.” The woman laughed in agreement, while Tom studied the young man in front of him.

“who did you say adopted you? A Bruce?” Jason rolled his eyes.

“Bruce Wayne. Gotham’s resident billionaire, and the collector of lost children.” Marinette narrowed her eyes.

“This wouldn’t be the same Bruce Wayne that the entirety of the media has decided I’m either dating the son of or am the newest child of, would it?” Jason laughed.

“yup defiantly the same Bruce. To be fair, he’s been on a quiet kick with the adopting thing. We think he’s planning something. And, in my defense, the only reason I knew what was going on was Tim can into my apartment simmering in anger that the press was stalking him again.” He paused, “oh and I went to pick up one of the tabloids so that I could immortalize his shame and was met with your face.” Here he turned to Marinette. “if they hadn’t run that story, I may never have seen you again.” The watery smile that he was met with made him smile.

“let go back to the Batmobile for a moment. What were you going to do, just leave a note after taking the tires? Write a quick thanks and leave?” Sabine’s humor quickly lightened the atmosphere as everyone laughed.

“no, actually. I was going to leave a red chrysanthemum.” Jason’s response made Marinette break into giggles.

“you were going to leave my sign? Jason!” the rest of the table looked around, clearly lost. Taking pity on them, Marinette went on to explain. “the red chrysanthemum is my favorite flower. Its also one that we were able to get ahold of easily in Gotham. Jason always called me his Chrysanthemum because it means hope. He called my Chrys when we were with other kids so that I was harder to track. He literally called me his hope for years. Its also why,” here she looked her grandmother dead in the eye, “they are the symbol for my brand.” The older woman tossed her head back in a laugh.

“only you, Marinetta. Only you.

After dinner and Gina and Jason had reluctantly left for the night, the Dupain-Cheng family sat and talked together a while more before separating to move towards bed. Afterall, they did have a bakery to open in the morning. When Marinette was sure that her parents were asleep, she opened her chaise. There, buried under piles of blankets and spare fabric and next to one of her specialized embroidery machines that had been packed away to save space, was a black rectangular box with a red chrysanthemum carved into it. Breathing a sigh of relief, the teen pulled out the box and settled her hand on top of it, letting her magic seep into the wood. A moment later, the box was expanding, opening, and giving her access to the box of the Miraculous of the Chinese Zodiac. Plagg zipped to join her as she studied the jewels in front of her before settling her hand on the Bee Miraculous that she had been puzzling over for weeks. The Kwamii looked at her before he finally sighed. “kid you know what you need to do. As much as we don’t like it, the girl is a good match for Pollen. Plus, you and the Bug need a rest. Without the Bee you know that the rest of your team won’t fall into place.” She smiled at the Kwamii before looking down again.

“I know Plagg, but…what if she says no? Lady Tyche and I can only do so much, and I don’t want to open our group to someone who is going to pull an Alya. I spent months training her with Tyche before we even let her come to an attack, and she still had the audacity to believe Lila. I don’t want to bring someone else into the fold and have them flake.” The miniature cat god nodded at his chosen as she drifted for a moment, thinking about days gone by. “ok Plagg, Let’s Make Mischief!” as her transformation fell over her, Apate stretched, preparing to wander into the night. Her luminous blue eyes, catlike and glowing in the night, narrowed as she made the jump, her black boots landing on the balcony. The black suit resembled a black track jacket, with the bottom half resembling close cropped cargo pants. Her boots, while silent, had a heel, giving the petit girl a very well needed few inches. Her black hair, while long and free flowing in daily life, was now held back in a French braid. The gauntlets on her forearms glinted silver in the moonlight, and the bracers on her shins reflected the light from the streets below. Apate’s hands flexed, the reinforced gloves flashing as her claws extended. A small smile crawled over the Vigilante’s face as she scanned the ridgeline of the building across from her before she detached her baton and let herself fly away from the small bakery.

When she landed at the Tower, the cat-like Vigilante settled herself on one of the beams looking out over the night. Her eyes focused on a figure in the distance and followed it as it made it’s way closer. When the figure landed next to her, Apate grinned up at Lady Tyche. The Blonde smiled down at her more violent companion. Her braided ponytail shifted in the wind, and the dark mask made the smaller girl roll her eyes. After almost four years, the two were pretty good at reading each other. As Lady Tyche settled next to Apate, the red hero smiled. Her garnet suit shifted in the moonlight. The black reinforced areas along her shins and arms seeming to disappear into the night to the naked eye. The older miraculous wielder had been apprehensive to let Apate redesign her suit from the bight red that had black spots everywhere. Apparently, it was a Tikki staple. When Apate had shown Tyche the simple garnet suit with the black shading on her sides, and the reinforcement on her arms, the hero had changed her tune. That had been three years ago, and since then the girls had grown closer. They had realized somewhere down the line that they must be in the same grade because they had chosen names that mirrored the Greek goddesses they had been learning about. When Apate had found out the box was based off the Chinese zodiac, she had laughed to herself. By then, it had been too late to change her name to honor the origin of the box.

That evening, the two had gotten together to once again debate the idea of adding a certain Bee to their ranks. This had been a topic for almost a year and the duo were apprehensive at the thought of adding an unknown this far into their battle.

“What did Tikki say?” When Apate broke their silence, Tyche sent her a small smile. They both knew that Apate was the more anxious of the duo. There was a reason she worked better in the shadows. The idea of adding the Bee, well it was keeping her up at night.

“She was all for it. After she heard what Wayzz had said, she agreed with him. adding another holder and setting up our team is the right move.” The girls exchanged looks. Apate took a deep breath before nodding.

“Plagg and I have been talking. With our final year in Lycée ending in eight months, he agreed that we need to try ad wrap this up.” Tyche snorted.

“I don’t know about you, but I am ready to leave Paris. If I can leave for University, it would be amazing.” Apate nodded in agreement.

“does that mean we should go visit Chloé?” Tyche hesitated.

“Actually, I was thinking. I know that we have been careful, for years now, but we both know that we’re getting closer to our identities. Would, would it be ok if we-” understanding settled on Apate’s face. She thought for a moment before nodding.

“well, there isn’t a Guardian to tell us no anymore. Plus, it might be good for us.” Both girls laughed as they stood. “how about this. I have to go get the Bee anyways, so come with me, and we can do the reveal nearby. That way we can be sure its in a secluded place.” Tyche nodded as she readied her yoyo.

“which way, Kit-Cat?” Apate laughed and jumped off the tower, letting herself start the trek back to the quaint Bakery that currently was housing miniature gods.

OK! so, Apate is the greek goddess of Decit, Tyche is the greek goddess of luck. i wanted unique names. thats all.

moving on, i’m not sure if anyone had noticed or not, but i think i’m allergic to ahving Adrien as Chat Noir. i’m debating adding him in as another Miraculous but we will see. i can’t really think of one i like for him.

yes! chrystantamums are going to play a big part in this. im goign to lear a little bit of this up too. Marinette was adoopted by the Dupain-Chengs when she was about 5. she is Jason’s half sister. she is incredably bright and i have a thing for crazy smart Mari so she skipped 2 grades and is a year away from university. she does not know Jason died yet. the time where Mari was kinda out of it, i’m useing as a plot device so that i can skip stuff. basically, Jason explains that Mari is is his little half sister and that they were out on the streets all of her early life before CPS picked her up. they share a father, not a mother. Jason is crazy protective of her.

anywhoooooo have a goodone yall, and ill see you soon wiht another chapter, probably.

tag list- @moonlitceleste @redscarlet95 @ultimatetornshipper @mochegato @liquid-luck-00 @maskedpainter @trippingovermyfeet @nathleigh @m0chick0furan

#a moment in time fic #maribat #timari #sibling!jasonette #ml x dc #mlb #miraculous ladybug #My writing #oops again #this was a lot #and a brain dump #i sorry

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thecaptainhelm · 4 years ago

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Shut Your Mouth Pt.2

hahaha, daminette part two, wasn’t a one shot, gn gn gn.

Marinette sighed as the shower warmed up, rolling her neck and relishing in the light feeling of accomplishment. Ever since Hawkmoth had been defeated, a mere two days ago, things had been tense. Hawkmoth, now known as Gabriel Agreste, was arrested along with his assistant Nathalie Sancoeur who had since retired as Mayura the year before. It was a stroke of luck to discover that the Guardian had the ability to forcibly renounce a broken Miraculous. Something Gabriel hadn’t known, granting them extra time as he futilely tried to ‘fix’ the brooch. While that happened, she managed to finally convince Chat to at least keep him as a suspect if not out of suspicion, then to actually strike him from their list. It didn’t take long rack up evidence against him, especially after learning from the Bats of Gotham.

The battle was quiet, in the early hours of the morning, where the city forcibly cut the power to the Agreste mansion, and it only took one Venom for each while they slept defenselessly. It took only a few minutes to find evidence that he was at least working with Hawkmoth, and when they found the miraculous pin and brooch, it was confirmed that he was, indeed, Hawkmoth with Nathalie working as his henchwoman Mayura.

Soon, with what was probably the fastest trial of the century, Gabriel Agreste and Nathalie Sancoeur were declared guilty and sentenced to serve life in prison and an insane asylum respectively. It had only shocked her for a moment that Mayura pleaded guilty and asked to be sent directly to rehab for mental help, by reason of insanity wrought by grief. What did surprise her was that she was the one to take the miraculous and give them to the Agreste couple as an anniversary gift, ultimately setting off a chain of unforeseen consequences.

That was a whole other cake she didn’t want to bake just yet, so she decided to finally just take a moment to breathe for what felt like the first time in five years.

So it was only normal that her smartwatch chimed on the hook of the shower caddy, a picture of a frowny eagle glaring right at her. She cursed her luck, yeah, no breaks was still her usual routine. It must be real hard for the universe to break out that particular habit.

Then she remembered that she set this particular picture and ringtone for the one person who had never called.

Robin, the vigilante that she might have, kind of, definitely made an enemy of.

Who was also her crush, so that was just. Great.

In her defense, she was a human being, and human beings were capable of amazing feats. It was just that her amazing feats were more amazing bouts of stupidity. Seriously, why did she do it? Just where did her common sense escape to make her think that was even a remotely good idea, because she wanted to go there and never come back.

She had kissed-- no! She made out with Robin, the most notoriously ill-tempered member of Batman’s team. The only reason he didn’t deck her in the face was because, because, well she didn’t know! Was it mercy, a misplaced feeling of pity, perhaps?

No, actually, it was more likely that he was frozen stiff with rage. Marinette couldn’t blame him, heck, she’d be angry too, suddenly getting passionately smooched in the middle of livid rant.

She had planned on giving him her contact information for the longest time, since they'd come to the understanding that they only wanted to do what was best for everyone, the kind of understanding that only leaders could have. And to maybe get closer to him as much as professionalism allowed. So, it stood to reason that she had to go ahead and ruin that, too. She really couldn’t believe herself sometimes, who randomly kisses someone, hands them their number, and then trots off back to work? Marinette Dupain-Cheng apparently.

In fact, it was about time he called. She had pretty much an entire year to prepare herself for what was sure to be a concise and frigid rejection, maybe even a “Stay for away from, lest I stab everyone in this room and then jump out of a window out of utter disgust”? She might as well get it over with and then move on to be alone for the rest of her life.

She wiped the water out of her eyes and squinted at the text message, before jumping out the shower with a loud curse. She hurriedly dried off and put on her clothes, before heading to the Miracle Box, rereading his message.

Emergency evac, one person, requesting Pegasus’ portal twenty kilometers horizontally above sea level precisely fifteen minutes after this message. Coordinates attached.

The message was sent ten minutes ago. How long was she catastrophizing for?!

Max was partying along with the rest of Paris while she took a breather in her art studio. Even with the full fifteen minutes she wouldn’t be able to find him in time. Shit, would she even be able to transform in time?

She grabbed the glasses from the box and Kaalki appeared in a proud flash.

“No time, there’s trouble,” she panted. “Ready?”

“Hmph, of course,” Kaalki tossed her head. “Let’s go, shall we?”

“Kaalki, transform me!” She eyed the time, two minutes left. She memorized the coordinates as she searched for a suitable place for him to land, and realized she was going to have to catch him in her storage closet.

One minute left. She opened the door and cleared space in the center of the room.

Thirty-five seconds. She stood on an old chair that she moved into the center of the room.

Twenty seconds, and she called, “Voyage!” and threw the portal up towards the ceiling.

Zero. She braced for impact and caught a body that plummeted through in a free fall.

“Ow,” she closed the portal with a groan, amidst the shattered pieces of what used to be a pretty sturdy chair.

“Don’t complain, it could have been worse.” A deep voice rasped.

Wow, to think she missed him, that asshole.

“Shut up, Robi-- oh my god your arm! Get up, getupgetupgetup!” She hauled him up as gently as possible, annoyance giving way to concern.

Robin was, putting it lightly, a mess. He had lost his mask, his eye was swollen shut and his face was bruised with cuts all over, and he was sticky with blood practically everywhere she looked. It was his arm that she was most concerned about, however. It was set in a splint, but he must have been in a rush because it was set wrong, his thumb facing perpendicular lyaway from his body.

“I am fine,” he sagged into her, weary. “I just need a place to stay for the night.”

“If you weren’t so grievously injured, I’d throw you out for that,” she remarked. “But guess what? It’s your lucky night monsieur, and I’m a trained field medic.” Robin looked at her, maskless, and she had to dart her eyes away from his maskless face.

“Oh, so Ladybug finally started replacing her subpar lineup? About time, either she benched them or Hawkmoth would kill them at some point. They were woefully incompent.” Yep, this was definitely Robin, no doubt about it with that attitude.

She called off the transformation and was somewhat pleased when he reflexively jerked his head away. She pulled him into a princess carry and made her way back to the bathroom, inwardly delighting at his reaction. She would never let him live this down.

“It’s me, Robin. Ladybug. Pegasus couldn’t make it, so you’ll have to do with me instead of a random stand-in.” She raised her brow, not that he could see it.

“Unless that bothers you, Boy Wonder?”

“...I’m not,” he mumbled.

“Hm?”

“I’m not Robin anymore.”

What. What.

“What?”

“I’ve retired, effective as of nine months ago today, Robin’s cape has been hung up for the next generation.”

Relief didn’t come yet. “Oh, so you’ve taken on a new mantle? Or are you finally the next Batman, though it would take some time to fill those shoulders. Literally, I mean that literally, um.” She observed his downcast expression and once again started walking to the bathroom. When had she stopped?

“I’m not taking over anything,” he said sullenly. “I can’t. Not after what I did.”

“Come on, it couldn’t have been so bad,” she opened the door with her heel as she backed them towards the stool by the sink. She set him down carefully, taking full stock of his injuries.

“It was. Batman’s cowl has always represented a strict moral code, one that I’ve always...struggled to adhere to.”

Marinette bit her lip as she kneeled in front of him. He didn’t say anymore, and she couldn’t think of anything to say. She sighed and brought out her med kit from the towel cabinet. She was always like this with him.

With Robin (now not Robin?) she had always drawn a blank. She could read his emotions somewhat well, had a good grasp on his moods, and could have genuinely insightful conversations with him. It was only at crucial moments like this that she struggled. Even with Adrien she had always known what she wanted to say, but Robin was different. Everything about him screamed “one chance only” and that caused her mind to go blank. It was so unbelievably frustrating that she could scream.

Marinette handed the glasses to Kaalki and nodded towards her purse hanging on the door handle. The kwami zoomed towards it and soon disappeared into it with the miraculous.

“Robin,” she called gently. He didn’t move. “I’ll have to cut your shirt off, okay? I need to see where the blood is coming from.”

“It’s not mine.The blood.” He kept his gaze away as she froze.

“Well, we’ll have to reset that arm,” she tried again. “It’s not...it’s not looking good, to say the least.”

He looked towards his mangled right arm and nodded.

It took some time to undo the splint and she tried not to think about where he had been for him to only have rotted wood and prison rags on hand. She cut his shirt off at the sleeve and down his middle, pulling it off and exposing a painful canvas of mottled bruises, scrapes, and cuts. She handed him her towel and he stuffed it in his mouth without a word. She gently untied the splint.

“Are you ready?” She gazed at him resolutely. He nodded and braced himself as best he could.

“On my count, one, two--” She re-broke his arm a count early on purpose.

“Arrghh! Ffuk!!” He jerked out of her grip.

“Hold still!” He spat out the towel and glared in response.

“Mizq dhiraei allaeaynat 'aw aidbitha!!!” She only understood ‘rip’ and ‘arm’ but she got the gist of his screaming.

“Alright it’s done now, I’m setting it, so stop moving,” She couldn’t help but sigh under his vicious scowl.

“Tsk. Be grateful that I can barely discern your features Ladybug. You’re on my shit list and I don’t feel like kicking your ass today.”

“Wow, thanks for saving me Ladybug, I could have died if it weren’t for you!” Marinette couldn’t help but snark at him.

“...tsk!” Yep, that was as good as she was going to get in his condition.

After years of fighting akuma victims she was able to observe the complex and hidden emotions of her opponents and the civilians that she rescued. And right now, her experience was telling her that Robin had more than his pride ruined. His self-confident, courageous, and taciturn nature seemed to be regressing as he fell back into what was probably a self-defense mechanism. For him to be like this instead of exhausted in his current state told her that he must have been through a lot since she last saw him.

She started to gently clean the blood off and noted the bruises underneath definitely came from an intense melee battle. Most of them were in places that made her cringe just looking at them. At least he doesn’t have any other broken bones, or stab wounds. Lucky him.

Robin put an ice pack to his face in the meanwhile and wouldn’t look in her direction.

It was quiet for a while. “So, what should I call you, then?” And she had to open her big fat mouth, didn’t she? Now it was awkward. It was awkward, and he hated her, and she was never speaking again, ever.

“Damian.” Uh oh.That didn’t sound like a moniker.

“Um, nice code name?” She started disinfecting his cuts and scrapes, trying not to panic.

“I no longer require such aliases.” Ok, process that later, heal Robin now. Process. Later.

“Ro--, Damian, uh, well,” She sighed. “My offer still stands, you know?”

He made a quiet noise.

“Last time I saw you, I mean. I had left in a rush,”-- after kissing you senseless-- “but I’m always here to listen if you want to talk about what happened.”

Robin, or Damian now, she still wasn’t used to that, froze. His brows furrowed and he strangely went red in the face, before sighing, slumping against the sink.

“I...the blood’s not mine. It hasn’t been my for a long time, but it might as well be for how long I’ve carried it. I’m not a good person so much as to blame myself completely, but I do recognize some of the fault as mine. I’d gotten help, and I was making progress, but it wasn’t enough. I started falling back into old habits and I hated it. I tried and I failed, and I kept trying and failing for months and I…” He gained a look of despair, the first real emotion she’s seen on him since he dropped in.

“I couldn’t do it anymore. I just kept disappointing everyone and I hated it so much,” he dug his fingers into his matted hair.

“So, I left. I decided to go on a journey to try and repent, and it was working, at least I thought it did. But, then I had stumbled upon a Shadows base and I…” He peered unseeing at the floor.

“It was like I lost all sense of reason. I lay siege to the entire facility and found my way to the next base. It all turned into an endless cycle, all the way until I reached headquarters and inadvertently met up with high ranking members of the Justice League, teaming up to diminish their power. We were successful, but a candidate for the position of the Demon’s Head activated the self-destruct module. Everyone was scrambling to get out and suddenly my mind felt clearer than it had ever been.” He took a deep breath and Marinette moved closer to offer some comfort. He leaned towards her gratefully.

“The Justice League had already had an escape route, but the Shadows were in disarray for some reason. After I was sure my old comrades were out, I locked all the doors, and dived down to a ceremonial bathing chamber.”

“And that’s where I came in,” she whispered. I think I’m starting to like him more than I should. What is wrong with me?! Who made me this way?! She had some complaints in regards to that.

“You saved my life,” he inclined his head in an informal bow. “Thank you, Ladybug.”

“...Marinette.” She croaked suddenly. She was left reeling from his info dump and her intense, romantic feelings. So, why not go for a confession?

Damian whipped his head up in disbelief.

“My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Enchanté, Damian.” She smiled at his bewildered state, wiping away a bit of blood under his chin. She opened her mouth to say more, but didn’t get the chance.

Damian leapt up, furious. “You fool! I knew you were a space cadet, but I didn’t think your brain drifted beyond the stars! How utterly moronic!”

“Wait, why are you so mad?!” She panicked. She kind of had a spur of the moment idea to kiss him on his split lip, but that was looking less and less likely to happen.

(Damn it.)

“You told me your name!” he shouted.

“Yes, and you told me your’s?” She retorted.

“Have you forgotten Hawkmoth?! Your enemy that can read the minds of the emotionally disturbed should he decide to possess them!” He started to hobble out of the bathroom, still half-treated and mostly in pain.

Oh.

Oh!

“I have to leave, now! If I can stay calm long enough to reach the trains then I’ll be moving too fast for a butterfly to suddenly get me.”

“Uh, Damian?”

“No, it might already be enroute to someone else and might even already be on board,” He winced and stumbled on the tassel rug in the hallway.

“Woah, hang on a second Damian,” she grabbed him before he could fall, but he pulled out of her grip.

“We don’t have time for this, I can guarantee that I would be one of the worst akumas you’ve faced in your hero career, nevermind the insider information I hold within my mind.”

“Yes, but listen to me,” Damian moved towards the small sitting area, not listening to her.

Again.

“This safehouse should be around one hundred kilometers from the city limits, you’re safe for now, but Hawkmoth’s estimated rate of growth was--”

That’s it!

Marinette grabbed his jaw and slammed it closed. She had had enough.

“This isn’t a safehouse, we’re in my art studio,” she snapped. She could see the rage begin to build to new heights in his eye.

“No, shut your mouth, and listen!” A vein in his forehead started to pulse, but he didn't move to speak.

Good.

“Hawkmoth has been defeated as of last week, and the trial was concluded a couple days ago. Going by what you told me, you've been out the loop for almost a year, so you don’t know that my team and I had closed in on Hawkmoth’s trail some time ago and were able to build a solid case that’ll go through in a court of law,” She carefully let him go.

“So, you’re safe, I’m safe, and Paris is safe too.” She’d already started to calm down in the middle of her explanation, and idly noted that she should probably take an anger management class.

And sign up for therapy. Lots of it, preferably.

Damian nodded slowly as he rubbed his jaw and she couldn’t help her wince.

“Sorry, did I handle you too roughly? Come here,” she started to pull him back towards the bathroom. He resisted.

“No, it’s fine, no damage just from that much force,” he tugged his arm away but she quickly moved behind him and began to push him through the bathroom door.

“Well, I’m not done treating you, so get back in there.” He grabbed the door frame and pushed back, and her calm demeanor left as quick as it came. Was it even truly there to begin with?

“I said,” she picked him up and threw him back on the stool where he grasped for stability.

“Come here.” She leaned in close to his bruised face, and wow, the one eye that she could see was so very, very green. “I’m not done with you, yet.”

“...okay,” he whispered. He kept his head down.

It didn’t take long to finish disinfecting the rest of his wounds, and soon she started applying ointment to the worst of his bruises. She had enough, but she was definitely going to be restocking in order to play his nursemaid for the next week or so. She rose to her feet and started packing away her kit.

“I’ll give you some pain meds for the night, I’ll leave you to take care of the injuries under the rest of your clothes. Come find me in the kitchenette. I’ll make something for us, though it won’t be anything fancy.”

“That is fine.” Marinette frowned at the strange husk in his voice. Did someone try to suffocate him? Why hadn’t she noticed until now?

She kneeled beside him and reached around him for the water bottle she had left in there earlier, but noticed him twitch and start to blush. Did he get a fever too?

She observed his red face and clear, but dilated eyes. Merde, did she embarrass him from earlier? She knew he had a large ego, but it was his own fault for being stubborn.

“Here, get yourself some water from the sink,” she handed the glittery black bottle to him and hurriedly strode out of the bathroom, calling,

“Holler if you need me!”

Completely aware of the flustered state she left Damian in. Though not for the reason she thinks, at least.

#daminette #maribat #part two

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catxsnow · 4 years ago

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CO-CAPTAINS D.W.

Request: could i please request a damian wayne x reader imagine where she's a complete badass who keeps damian on his toes and they both do debate (because let's be honest damians favourite sport would be to show how much better he is at arguing) and maybe they have to work together to prepare for one debate and have an enemies to lovers situation and the debate comes and the batfamily comes to watch but instead of the usual sour damian he's got the 💖lovebug💖 and simping over his partner.

Warning: fluff, Older!damian, x fem!reader

A/N: I’m so sorry I literally know nothing about debate?? I was a basketball kid in high school so I did that instead. If you’re not satisfied let me know PLEASE!! I’m happy to write something else as well but I hope that you enjoy!!

Word count: 4k

Gotham's private school were one of the few good things to come out of the city. The public school were terrifying and you were lucky enough to get scholarships into the best school in the city. At least, it had to be the best if Damian Wayne was going there, right?

Son of Bruce Wayne, richest kid probably in the entire world. He also happened to be the cockiest asshole you had ever met in your life. You were well acquainted with him being on the same basketball team and everything. There weren't enough girls to make a team that year which meant you had to play with the boys - not that it was a problem for you.

A lot of people underestimated you skill since you were one of two girls on the boys senior team. It came in handy with a lot of games where you came out scoring the most amount of points each quarter. You skill had brought you to captain of the team. Or at least co-captain with none other than Damian.

The two of you were constantly trying to outdo each other and see who was the better captain and who was the better player. It was a constant battle between the two of you. Damian drove you crazy with his cocky attitude and his ever lasting need to prove that he was right. He was constantly trying to call the plays and you knew god damn well that it wasn't going to work.

Half the time, you were right.

Damian found you infuriating. A girl shouldn't be playing on the boys team - everyone knew that. Yet, here you were. You were proving to be better than half the guys on the team and Damian couldn't stand you for it. He hated when you were right and when you scored more points than he did.

Mostly, he hated that you always had to fight against him, rather than agree with him. You guys could never see eye to eye. And as much as you wanted to blame all the fights on him, most of them were started by you. You couldn't stand to see his stupid smirk when he came up with an idea to win the game.

Everyone on the team knew that you didn't like one another. Sometimes it fueled them up to win the game they were playing. Mostly, it got in the way to the extent that you had lost a game. The worst case was when Damian refused to pass to you and during the last few seconds of the final quarter, missed the shot and lost the game.

Yours and Damian's feud started long before you joined the boys team. Two years ago, there were enough girls to form a separate team. Some practices you would scrimmage against them - that was when your hatred started.

It was his first year playing and he was infuriated that you were beating him at every chance you got. Offense, defense, even court side you seemed to out wit him. He was tired of you and he didn't even know your name - just your number. His number.

"Wayne!" You shouted. Damian once again had his nose in his phone. You guessed that being the son of Bruce meant that he had diligent responsibilities to attend to as well - that didn't mean he got to be excused from practice though. Damian's eyes darted to you and a scowl spread on his lips. “Just because your co-captain doesn’t mean you can skip practice.”

You had to admit that it was one of your favourite past times to piss him off in anyway you could. Whether it was because it made you feel like the better captain or because he looked a little too hot when he was angry. Still, he threw his phone back in his bag and ran onto the court to join you and the others.

It was the end of practice and he looked like he was itching to leave. However, Coach had one last drill to run before hitting the change rooms. It pushed you just hard enough that sweat dripped down your face and soaked the back of your neck. Damian didn't even appear to even break a sweat.

With all the years that you had known him, he never seemed to be overworked. Coach would throw everything at him and he would always accomplish it with ease. You hated him for it. Whatever aestheticism he had was natural, you had to work you ass off for it. Nothing seemed to tire him out.

You nearly dropped to the floor the second the change room door closed. The cold tiles would have felt nice against your hot skin but you didn't know if you'd be able to get back up after you got down. So, you reluctantly threw on some sweats and a hoodie and headed out to catch your bus home.

Of course by the time that you got out there, all the other players were long gone and the only person left was Damian Wayne. Unlike you, he wasn't waiting for the bus, he was waiting for his butler. You wished you had that kind of luxury in your life - Gotham City busses weren't always the most reliable.

"(L/N)," Damian acknowledged you. The bus you were going to catch wasn't going to be there for another twenty minutes. As much as you didn't want to stay with Damian, you also felt a hell of a lot safer standing next to him rather than yourself. "Your free throws were off today."

"Thanks," You rolled your eyes. Of course he noticed your weakness of the day. He always seemed to be pointing out things you did wrong during practice and especially during games. You held up your hand to show him your taped fingers which seemed to be a good enough answer for as to why you were off. "Crushed my pinky last night."

"TT," he nodded. Part of you hated when he did that. That other part thought his little tick was adorable. The worst thing about hating Damian was that he also did the smallest gestures that made you swoon to him. You liked to blame it on his rich-boy-son-of-Bruce-Wayne facade, but you knew that wasn't it.

"You were leaning to your right instead of left today," this time you pointed out his flaw. Damian lifted up his pant leg to show of his ankle brace. How you hadn't noticed it in practice, you weren't sure.

"Two days ago," Damian briefly told you. "Don't worry, I could have crutches and I'd still be a better player than you." You scowled at him. The second that you thought that the two of you could get along, of course he had to go and ruin that with some plain-faced compliment.

"I'm pretty sure that someone who's never stepped onto a court could do better than you," you scoffed. The short time that you had left you little imagination to come up with insult. "My bus is going to be here soon, better go catch your babysitter."

"He's my butler," Damian corrected. You always referred to Alfred as Damian's babysitter - with his childish attitude god knows he needed one.

"Whatever," you were already walking away from him. As you continued to the bus stop, you spun around and flipped him off. Your middle fingers were raised high in the air and you could nearly feel his glare at you. "Have fun being privileged."

What you didn't know, was that Damian knew Alfred was there the whole time. He didn't want to leave you waiting in the dangerous streets of Gotham by yourself - not when he knew the horrors that were truly within them.

Damian knew you were one tough motherfucker.

He knew that on the court you were ruthless, unforgiving, and determined. Playing against a bunch of men that towered over you and sometimes having way more body mass against you meant you had to be tough. It was something that he always respected you for. Time and time again you surprised him with being able to take care of yourself.

Tonight was a home game and you were more than excited to be out on the court and kick some sorry ass. Just as always, the other team was shocked to see a girl playing and instantly started making fun of you. They were rough on you, refs were obviously not caring enough to call the fouls, and you were pissed.

By the third quarter, you were furious that so many calls were being missed. Your shooting started to get more forced and your defense more aggressive. It wasn't until the player you were guarding jabbed his elbow into your face did you finally have enough.

Blood dripped down your busted lip and your fists clenched up at your sides. If it wasn't for the bright red flowing out of you, you were sure that it would have been another foul that was shrugged off. With the sound of a the whistle being blown, both teams headed back to their benches.

"Fuck these refs!" You seethed. The back of your hand was smeared with blood from wiping it away. Your coach glared at you for the swear but since you were feeling ballsy, you only glared back at him.

You were already in a bad mood. Before the game had started, you and Damian had another one of your spats. This had been a big one too, you had never yelled at him so much in your life before. And to be honest, you couldn't even remember why it had started. He had said something to tick you off and it had just escalated from there.

The two of you were the first to arrive to the game - as it seemed to happen every time. While waiting for everyone else, you found yourself arguing once more. He always seemed to find the kind of things to just make you angry enough not to be able to forgive him. It drove you crazy.

When some of the other players filed in, the two of you stomped off in your own directions and never spoke again unless necessary. Damian was the one person that you could never get along with no matter how much you tried. And you wished you could get along with him too.

He was your co-captain, you should have easily been able to get along with him. Damian was someone that you truly could see yourself getting along with if he wasn't so damn stubborn.

"She's right," Damian suddenly defended you. He couldn't help but be in awe of you as you nonchalantly shrugged off the wound. You were fuming at the team, the refs, and now your couch. Damian had never seen you so riled up before and he had to admit that he loved this side of you.

"Doesn't matter," your coach cut the both of you off. "(Y/N), you're out for the rest of the game."

"No!" You argued. There was no way that you were going to be benched for some busted lip. Your coach wasn't going to let you argue it. So, for the rest of the game you grumbled on the bench and glared at any player from the other team that ran by you. This was unfair, yet no one seemed to disagree with the coach.

As the last seconds of the final quarter ticked away, victory was upon your team. The last buzzer went off and your team crowded around each other for the win. You on the other hand, already stalked off the the change room. Your bag was hastily thrown to the ground and you planted your hands on the edge of the sink.

To no surprise, your lip was swollen and bloody. A split ran vertically on the bottom and dried blood was caked around it. You splashed cold water on your face, hoping that it would cool you down - both from your heat and your anger. It didn't do either.

Your team was most likely already waiting for you for a post-game talk. That was the last thing you wanted to partake in. Unfortunately, you were already in enough trouble as it was and you couldn't miss this. You shoved a hoodie on and joined the rest of your teammates outside.

Twenty minutes later you had nearly droned out everything your coach was telling you and your team. Everyone decided to join up at the pizza place a couple streets down from the school before heading home. You on the other hand, wanted nothing more than to be in your own bed away from everyone else.

A hand on your shoulder stopped you from walking away. Damian.

"What?" You snapped.

"Calm down, (L/N)," Damian rolled his eyes. He had the time to cool off from your fight several hours ago - you on the other hand most definitely had not. "Come get pizza with the rest of us. I know you're in a... bad mood, but it'll be good to spend time with everyone without coach there."

"No."

"I'll buy," Damian offered. You rolled your eyes at him. A slice of pizza really must have just dug into his budget a lot - being so rich and all. "Just... I'm sorry, for earlier. I shouldn't have said those things."

"Wow, is Damian apologizing?" You were genuinely shocked. He never apologized after any of your fights so he must have felt bad about this one. "I guess I'm going to have to come now."

The final game of the season always made you nervous. This year, was even worse. Senior year of high school meant that scouts would be watching for new players in university. Tonight, the gym was packed with them. You needed this scholarship if you wanted to get into the university of your dreams.

To make matters worse - Damian's family had shown up as well. Bruce Wayne and several of his brothers and sisters sat in the stands. It was the first time that you had seen them together outside of his ridiculously expensive galas. Bruce had shown up to support his son - his siblings wanted to see this girl that he had ranted on and on about.

There were many times after practice - or even just regular school days - where Damian would come home and complain about how much he hated you. He was constantly infuriated by your presence and he couldn't stand the thought about how impossible you were to try and have a proper conversation with.

Dick was the one who heard about it the most. He told Jason about it, who started showing up to the manor just to his little brother get so worked up about a girl. Steph became the most invested - she wanted to know everything there was about you and most importantly how, how she could get the two of you together.

Tim didn't believe that it would ever happen. When Damian hated someone, there was no changing his mind about it. You seemed to be at the top of his list at the moment and there was no way that Steph's wishes would ever come true. Damian hated you, simple as that.

You stood on the court side bouncing up and down on your toes. All the nervous energy was pent up inside of you and you had no idea how to get it out. This game meant everything to you - you needed to show off how good of a player you were and that you deserved to have a full-ride scholarship.

"You okay?" Damian stood beside you. He had grown a lot since you first met him. Before, you stood at the same height as him, now, he towered over you. His arms were crossed over his chest as he looked down at you. You couldn't help but briefly gaze at his muscles that popped out of his jersey before meeting his eyes.

"Nervous," you answered.

"Why? We've beat this team before. Is it because it's the finals?" Damian raised an eyebrow. You were never one to show off your nerves - especially right before a game.

"No," you shook your head. "Scouts. I need a scholarship to get into university. I'm just worried I'm gonna fuck up tonight and lose my chance."

"You're going to do fine," Damian assured. You weren't used to this side of him. He never was one to boost your confidence, always the one to tear it down. "If it makes you feel better, I'm nervous too."

"You? Nervous?" you cheekily grinned up at him. Damian rolled his eyes and nudged your side.

"My father is here," he jutted his chin in the general direction of his family. One of the older men seemed to notice and waved at you both. "And my nuisance brothers and sisters. They've never seen one of our games before."

You didn't have a chance to say anything else. A whistle echoed through the gym and the two of you were ushered onto the court. The second that you stood within the lines, your nerves seemed to wash away.

Damian stood in the center for the tip off. He did a short glance back at you and have a reassuring nod. For some bizarre reason, it filled you with joy. You felt a surge of confidence as well as determination. Whatever happened after tonight was out of your control. All you knew was that you had to bust your ass out there and everything would work out one way or another.

That game, you had worked like you never had before. You were making nearly every shot and putting up such a great defense. For the first time in your lives, you and Damian were working in sync. It seemed like he knew what you wanted to do before you even had the chance to think it. The two of you were incredible.

His family noticed how well you worked together. After everything that they heard about you - they assumed his hatred would show on the court as well. Most of the time, that was true. Tonight, you had never seen anything like this before. It was your best game of your life - skill wise.

At half time, your team huddled around to devise a strategy for the second half. You were ahead of the other team, but only by a few points. This was the final game of the season, you had to win. You stood beside Damian in the huddle.

Sweat dripped down his skin which seemed to accentuate his beautifully tanned skin. He left from your side and part of you felt disappointed at his departure. However, he returned only moments later with his water bottle, as well as yours. You thanked him as you grabbed it from his hand.

"You guys are on fire out there," One of your teammates stood behind you and Damian. He had a hand on each of your shoulders and a grin on his face. "It's crazy! I've never seen you work together like this before. Guess you guys are uh, warming up to each other, huh?"

Coach called him over before you could reply to him. He squeezed your shoulder before jogging off in the other direction. Damian didn't look too pleased by the short encounter either.

"Scouts have been watching you all night," Damian looked over to where one of them was sitting in the stands. He had made sure that he made all the right assists for you so that you would go noticed. It was working - you were doing incredible.

"Still half a game left to go," You muttered. As soon as you stepped off the court, you nerves had started to come back. "Thank you, for everything out there."

"(Y/N)? Thanking me?" He teased. He never had a playful attitude like this - but you had to admit that you really liked that side of him. The smile that caused his eyes to crinkle and his cheeks to squish. You couldn't help but gleam up at him the second that you saw it. "Come on, coach wants us."

The rest of the game went just about as good as the first half. You were drowning in sweat from all the work you were doing but if the scouts kept their eyes on you, then it was well worth it. You and Damian continued on just as you had before - playing as if you were one person, not two.

The final quarter came and went with your team pulling way into the lead. By the time the final buzzer went off, your team had already celebrated it's final win of the season. It was you and Damian that had been the reason for such a dramatic win - and the scouts knew it.

You had been pulled off to the side by one scout in particular before you could even make it to the change room. He happened to be from the university that you were so wanting to go to. Before he could even finish his offer for a full ride, you already had a massive grin on your face and nodded your head yes.

This had been exactly what you wanted in your life, you needed this win. The scout left you to go get changed and speak with your team. However, you had ran into Damian first. Your heart was beating so fast that you were sure it was going to pop out of your chest with excitement.

Whether it was the adrenaline, the excitement, or the pure happiness you felt, you weren't sure - but that didn't stop you from running to Damian and up into his arms. Damian nearly tumbled at your sudden weight. You legs wrapped around his torso and your palms were on his cheeks. Before he could ask what the hell you were doing, you kissed him.

Damian was standing there in shock. He held your legs for support and you could feel them stiff against your bare skin. Then, he melted into your touch. Damian kissed you back with the same cheerful energy that you had. His grip on you became more natural and he felt as if he never wanted to let you go.

The clapping and cheering from your team had pulled you guys apart. Damian carefully set you back down on the ground and stepped away from you. Heat of embarrassment crawled up his skin. "I'm sorry," You squeaked out. "I just, I wanted to thank you. Scouts are interested me and it's all because of you."

You had never really thought about Damian in this way. Sure, he frustrated the hell out of you and sometimes you wanted to punch him in his perfect little face, but you never found yourself hating him. Yet, you never thought that you’d want to kiss him either.

The instinct feeling that you had? That spoke more than anything else. After all this excitement, you should have thought to tell your parents, your best friend first. Instead, it was Damian. Maybe it was because you ran into him first, but you couldn’t blame your thoughts on that as well.

"They're interested in you because of how great of a player you are, not because of me," Damian argued. His cheeks were tinged the slightest pink as he stared into your eyes. "And there's no need to apologize... I enjoyed that. I'm sorry for being terrible to you for all these years."

"I deserved a lot of it. I'm sorry as well," You told him. Damian placed his hand on your waist, closing the gap that was between you. He tilted down, placing his lips on yours once again. He never realized how much he had argued with you just to hide his own feelings until now. All these years of fighting had been pointless.

This time, it was a camera flash that broke you apart. A blonde girl with a huge grin on her face held up her phone. Damian scowled at her. "Steph!"

"Tim!" Steph ran back to Tim as well as the rest of Damian's family. She was holding the phone high up in the air, obviously excited to show her brother about what she had just seen.

"Sorry," Damian apologized once more. He glared over in the direction of Steph running away to meet the rest of her siblings. "My family can be a lot sometimes."

"Well if they're anything like you, that doesn't surprise me," you joked. You glanced between him, the team, and his family - all of which seemed to be looking towards you. "Wanna ditch the team and our families and get out of here?"

"Never thought you'd ask."

#damian wayne #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne oneshot #older!damian #dc #dc imagine #dc one shot #batfam #batfam x reader #batfam imagine #fluff #damian wayne x fem!reader

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anothertimdrakestan · 4 years ago

Text

Heat Waves (TimKon)

Words: 3k

Hi! I’m so glad you’re here! I’ve been working on this for way too long and definitely have a pt2 planned out if you guys like part one! I hope you’ll take the time to read this because I spent way too long on it and I’m pretty happy with how it turned out!

for the like 0.1% of my audience that this overlaps with, yes, i too am utterly obsessed with Heat Waves for DNF and have been listening to this song on repeat for three days straight waiting for chapter 8. But, i figured why not let that amazing piece of absolute art inspire a Timkon fic cuz they have the same dynamic as DNF in my eyes! All credits go to tbhyourelame on ao3!

if you don’t know what heat waves is that’s fine this is just a regular fic but I highly recommend you checkout the amazing song here

It was as hot as death itself in Kansas. Not to mention a farm with no AC was just about the worst place Conner could be forced to “vacation” at. But Ma and Pa had been begging to have him over and the month of June just seemed to overlap, so there Kon was, sweating buckets in the middle of nowhere.

It felt so cold in Gotham. Though, the temperature was comfortable- the most comfortable it had been all year- but Tim always felt colder, lonelier, when Conner wasn’t by his side. The two of them were a duo, fitting together like a puzzle piece, the absolute best of friends and best of heroes. But now, he was using his mandatory away-from-the-tower weeks up while Conner was in Kansas, it was some sort of mandate that Bruce’s kids come home occasionally and instead of suffering weekends in Gotham Tim opted to just grind out a few weeks at the manor, even if it meant dealing with Damian’s unrelenting murder attempts. But it wasn’t all bad, Tim got to patrol with Bruce again, hang out with Jason occasionally, and even see Dick from time to time. “Family” bonding at it’s finest.

“Hello?” Tim’s voice was quiet, Kon constantly felt himself turning the volume button up on his phone just to hear a decibel more of his best friend’s comforting tone.

“Hey Timbers how was your day?” Conner felt himself relaxing to the light sound of Tim breathing, he was laying on the floor, spread like a starfish so that no sticky part of his body could touch and create more sweat.

“Nothing much, no patrol tonight- I guess you remembered,” Tim’s voice was filling his ears. I remember everything you tell me. “Yeah, yeah I did,” Conner quickly replied. “Any boring farm chores today?” Conner heard the familiar rustling, he could hear Tim stand up, he’d memorized the sound of Tim taking him off speaker and resting the phone in between his shoulder and ear. He could hear Tim’s hair, that he knew he was probably growing out, brush the mic. I always liked his hair longer.

“Kon?” Tim snapped him back into the stiflingly hot room. “Oh sorry, it’s really hot here, kinda makes me zone out. Um, I’m alright I got to hangout with the cows today which was cool- they don’t like the heat either but Ma says it’ll be over soon,” Conner rambled, all too focused on Tim’s breath in his ear.

“Sorry for making you zone out, I guess nothing interesting is happening here,” Tim sighed, Conner shook his head, rolling over on the floor, leaning down into the mic of his phone.

“Nothing about you bores me Tim,”

Tim didn’t reply. Conner mentally cursed himself, he was really too tired, too hot and bothered to be this flirtatious with Tim, who was a complete wild card when it came to Conner.

And then he answered, Tim’s voice was higher pitched, the way it ascended when he was blushing- he was blushing. “Well that’s not true, I’m very boring. When I’m doing cases or training or-” Conner couldn’t take it.

“Nothing about you could bore me Tim. I’m down to be with you whenever, doing whatever, you know that,” he felt his tone soften, loving the way Tim’s breath hitched with every compliment.

“Be with me?” Tim shot back playfully, Conner could practically hear the smirk toying on the smaller boy’s lips.

“Did I stutter?” Conner heard a loud noise, a thump. Tim’s voice was high pitched again, “Sorry- uh I dropped my phone,” Conner felt himself growing warmer, if at all physically possible. “No problem. So, what are you doing tomorrow with Bruce?” Conner didn’t like pushing Tim too far, hell, he barely knew how he felt half the time. Tim’s voice brightened, “Oh! We’re gonna go to this old ice cream shop I adored as a kid! It’s been too long since I’ve been there, you remember me talking about it?”

Conner didn’t need a second to answer, “Sub 30, you always get the one with the espresso poured over it,” he couldn’t lie, ice cream sounded absolutely heavenly at the moment. Tim’s voice flooded through the heat, “Right as always- I swear they programmed some sort of photographic memory inside of you,” Tim teased, Conner answered honestly, “I just listen when you tell me things”. The night went on, Tim quickly had to go, believe it or not he did sleep when given the opportunity. “Try not to die of heat exhaustion, drink lots of water throughout the day, not all at once,” Conner smiled, “will do, goodnight Timmy,” Tim answered mid yawn, “night Kon”.

And then he was alone. Alone with the heat, with his thoughts, the latter far more dangerous. He’s my best friend, of course I remember everything. Conner found himself staring at the ceiling, Ma had painted constellations on the walls and ceilings of the room, something funny about alien genes liking the stars. Conner used to be able to find every pattern, name every star, but the only shape he could trace was Tim. There were his eyes, they were pools of deep blue, they sparkled when he laughed but could glare bullets when he tried. If he stared hard enough Kon could find his hair, it’s always soft and smells delicious, layers falling effortlessly- cascading to frame his face. Then there were his lips, Conner found himself constantly mesmerized with the way Tim bit his bottom lip when thinking, the way they scrunched together when he said something funny, how they constricted when he bit the inside of his cheek just enough to hide the emotion he was so scared of portraying. They were perfect.

He let the heat take his mind, flowing with the stars as he thought dangerous thoughts about his best friend. His thoughts danced around Tim’s waist, flowing carefully around his chest, wrapping Kon in every layer of Tim’s personality, every smile, laugh, tear, scowl, it was Tim. Kon’s Tim.

And there, on the floor, he drifted to an uncomfortable, sweaty sleep.

Tim was scrolling aimlessly through his phone, Gotham was surprisingly boring. He once found the city bustling and distinctly alive but now it only left him cold, cold and bored.

“Ice cream as good as you remember?” Bruce’s voice lifted him from his device. “Yup! Can’t believe you let me have espresso at like 10, you basically started my addiction.” Tim threw on a smile, glancing down at the half eaten dessert. “Yeah, can’t say I was the best father but, I tried,” Bruce’s shoulders shook lightly, but the laughter didn’t make it to his eyes. Did you really try? Truly? Tim dove back into the creamy sweet, admiring the bitterness the espresso brought the flavor. His phone buzzed.

K: Did you get the ice cream?

T: yeah, you remembered?

K: You literally told me last night

T: have i been off your mind since?

K: No.

Conner always did this, every time Tim thought he’d throw him off guard with something funny or flirtatious just to have a little fun Kon took it and ran with it. And I’m always the one who ends up blushing. Tim thought, shaking his head. It was really his fault he let Conner get him riled up. They were best friends, flirting or dealing out little sexual quips were natural, and often pretty funny.

“Earth to Tim? I’ve got a meeting you wanna head back while I head to the office?” Tim glanced over at Bruce who was now standing up in front of him. “Yeah, I can work on cases back at the manor, you gonna head to the office?” stretching his arms he stood up, noticing Bruce had put on his business face- the one stone cold and dry that only brought back the worst memories. “Yes.” His response was gruff, Tim suppressed the shudder that tried to dance down his spine. “Uh yeah, I’ll head back, have a nice day B,” he smiled, hoping it made it to his eyes.

“You can’t keep calling me while I’m on patrol, it’s not safe,” Tim chastised Conner loosely, appreciating the company as his patrol with Damian was always deathly silent. “C’mon, you’re used to having me in your ear,” Tim gulped, glancing around for Damian who was three buildings over, deeply uninterested. “Kon, oh my god, I’m gonna mute you,” Tim whispered, revelling in the chuckle that stirred in Conner’s chest. It was deep, and warm, so distinctly warm Tim felt the heat budding in his chest.

“So, patrol with the demon? He hasn’t cut your grapple line yet?” Conner’s tone was low and silky smooth. Coughing to clear his throat Tim replied, “nope, he’s most horrific when Bruce is here, when he’s not the punk couldn’t care less whether I live or die,”

“I care,”

“I know Kon,” If only you knew how much I appreciated it.

“Asshole, can you hear me? I said we’ve got a gang robbery on second? You coming genius?” Damian’s disgusted tone flooded over his comm, and Tim quickly turned his attention to the bat-brat who was already grappling towards the alarms and shouts. Conner’s whisper asked, “can he hear me?” and Tim replied, “no, you’re on a separate channel, Dami can only hear me when I unmute. Just be quiet while I take out these thugs,”

“Why? Because my voice distracts you?” Conner’s tone shifted into dangerously flirtatious.

“No, cuz you’re annoying as shit,” Tim smirked, running across the top of a building, letting Damian call the signals so he didn’t get all upset.

“Do I make you uncomfortable Tim? Do I make you forget just exactly what you’re doing, whether you want to use your batarang or bo staff? Do I make you, warm? Because it’s so warm here, so hot, god I’m just so hot I-”

“Shut. Up.” Tim struck the gun out of a scared looking man. Rolling his eyes at the man in his ear.

“Why? Are you too focused? We’ve taken out much harder criminals all while talking. Aren’t we just talking right now?” Kon’s voice was ringing in his head like never before.

“I’m trying to focus but it’s no good when you’re in my ear.”

“And what if I wasn’t in your ear? You remember? When we work side by side, so close- are you an affectionate person Tim?” Tim could feel the heat dripping off of Conner’s voice, but he was taken aback by Conner’s new line of thought.

“Wha- what? Am I affectionate? I don’t know. Sometimes?” Tim almost missed a hit, huffing as Damian blocked what would’ve been a hard blow on him. “Start paying attention Drake,” Damian’s tone was acidic. But he was drawn back into his com as Conner’s voice flooded his ears again.

“Would you be affectionate with me?”

“Yes” Tim’s breathless reply was instant, his brain not giving him a chance to think.

“Good, I like that. You know I’m very affectionate too? I like getting to hold the people I care about close, feeling their warmth. You know I’m very warm right now?”

“I- I know Kon, I bet, are you doing alright? Drinking water?” Tim shook out the thought of Conner lazing out in his room, sweaty, lips parted as he pushed out warm breath- Stop. Focus. Your job is to defend these people. Damian’s doing a good job, You just have to round up the civilians. Tim forced himself back into the real world, taking on one of the gang members with ease, tying him up swiftly before moving on to the next.

“I heard that, I can hear it every time you take out one of those men. This is easy isn’t it? I can’t be that distracting to you. You’re too good.”

“You always do this,” Tim felt his cheeks heating up, his steps felt forced, like he had to remind himself to breathe. Tim carefully rounded up civilians, escorting them to safety as Conner started again in his ear.

“Always do what Tim? Tell you how much I appreciate you? How much I miss you? Do you not think you deserve to be missed? To be loved?”

“Conner” Tim’s tone was harsher than he wanted it to be. But nonetheless Conner continued.

“Why not? Why the hell not? You’re amazing Tim.”

Tim scoffed, playing it off as a cough to the people in front of him.

“What do you need to hear Tim? That you’re amazing? Brilliant?-”

“Oh my god Kon-” Tim interrupted, but Conner wasn’t done.

“Talented? Impressive? [his tone deepended] - Attractive?”

“I’m gonna hang up,” Tim was breathing so hard he was practically hyperventilating. The compliments were all that consumed his thoughts, swirling around his brain, packing it full of deep, dangerously flammable thoughts.

And Conner was ready to let it burn.

“You need to be kissed Tim,” Conner murmurs, throat raw, “so hard that you can’t remember your name- maybe then you’ll understand what I mean.”

The batarang in Tim’s hand clattered to the floor. Damian’s head whipped to him as Tim struggled to regain function.

“I’m muting you, see you in a bit,” was all Tim could choke out before he ripped the earpiece out, unable to let it sit, burning into his skull. You’re almost done here, cool down, finish up. Tim told himself as he manually reminded himself to breathe. You’ve got this.

Conner knew Tim ended the call. But he didn’t have the energy to stop the endless beeping from the disconnected phone.

He was laying on the floor of his room, limbs spread out as he clawed for anything that could cool him down, but all he could feel was heat as he stared up at the stars.

He had to admit, he’d pushed Tim further than ever before. But it felt too right to stop, too good. He couldn’t stop replaying the way Tim’s breath hitched after every word, desperately grasping for the feeling budding up in his chest. It was too addictive to not let the words he’d spent too long crafting pour from his lips into Tim’s heart.

Kon didn’t know how long he laid there, dazed in the heat, just trying to relive word after perfect word.

Until his phone rang.

“Tim?” his voice was ragged and raw.

Tim’s was high pitched and tight. “Conner what the hell was that? Was that funny to you? Saying all those things- flirting with me while I’m trying to do my job?”

“Flirting?” Conner mused, staring at the stars with a tattered smirk on his face.

“Don’t act dumb, I don’t know what kind of sick joke it was saying all that while I’m on patrol but I’m glad you think you’re funny,” Tim’s voice was cold. But not the cooling tone, it was sharp, like the way the freeze of ice can feel so painfully hot when applied too harshly.

“I would’ve said it to you no matter what you were doing,” Conner whispered, resting his phone on his chest, wincing at the sticky noise it made as he tried to adjust it’s positioning.

“So that was just all for you? To let you listen as you screwed with my brain?” Tim retorted.

Conner was done dancing around the truth, all forms of control eluding his mind. “Yes,”

“That’s cruel Kon, can you imagine if I did that with you? Told you how you needed to be kissed while you’re out with Jon or something?” Tim sounded exasperated, but at the end of each quip Kon could hear the deep breaths he was taking. Does- Does he like this?

Tim continued. “Don’t answer that. Shut up, I know what you’re gonna say. ‘Oh Tim it’s not the same,’ just- just get out of my head!”

Conner sat up. He was floating. Floating in the middle of his room, the phone on his chest tumbling to the floor as he scrambled to grab it again, feeling his feet touch the ground as he held the phone as close to his lips as he could.

“What do you mean Tim? How am I in your head?” Do you feel the same way I do right now?

“You- you just know me. So well, and when you say stuff like that- when you’re in my ear saying those things your voice, it’s like fire, it burns.” Tim sounded desperate, his voice painfully strained.

Conner’s head was spinning, “I burn you?” he matched Tim’s desperate tone.

“You melt me.”

Conner’s head slammed against the roof of his room, as he tried to regain control of his senses he heard Tim murmur, “does that make sense?”

“More than you know Timbers, more than you know,” Conner could hear Tim let out a sigh, the kind that told him all would be okay.

As Conner took a deep breath, steadying himself for what was to come Tim spoke first. “It’s so late Kon, I’ve been up to long, I think I need to go to bed,” Tim’s tone was soft again, the cooling, comforting tone that Kon was scared he’d never hear again.

"Yeah, I- uh, have chores in the morning anyways.” Conner answered, hoping to give Tim some peace of mind.

“Okay, sounds good. Goodnight Conner,” Tim said quietly, his tone thoughtful and slow, finally letting the sleep crowd his mind.

“Goodnight Tim, talk to you tomorrow?” Conner let too much hope sink into those last few words.

“Yes, night now,” Tim answered easily, quickly hanging up the call, letting Conner sink down back into the carpet of his floor.

“Tomorrow,” Conner whispered to himself, feeling the intense heat start to creep back in as he drifted into a sweaty sleep.

“Tomorrow,” Tim whispered to himself, trying to swallow the nerves he didn’t know Conner could draw out of him.

“I’ll figure it out tomorrow.”

not my usual fic but I really hope you enjoyed!

taglist: @vintageroses10 @idkmanicantenglish @kishony-the-geek @foenixphire @how--are--you @psych0crybaby @romance-is-tragic @birdy-bat-writes @subtleappreciation @officiallydarkgeek also kita cuz i love u and wanted to try writing timkon more in your style hehehe @river-bottom-nightmare

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 4 years ago

Note

I am looking forward to reading the continuation of the alternative ending of satisfied! Can’t wait! 😜

Happy Easter lmao here’s your monthly dose of depression ig

Though this one is slightly more lighthearted than usual

first part

next part

@solangelo252

The life of a captive of Bruce Wayne was surprisingly posh.

Maybe her standards were just really low because the last place she’d been held had been a lab where fear gas was tested on her almost daily(? her concept of time was fuzzy)... or maybe the Waynes just knew how to treat a kidnapee. Who knew.

But, hey, she’d been given a phone!

It was hacked, of course. Anything on the internet that even vaguely mentioned Bruce Wayne, the bats, or the Rogues was impossible to access. This had been a little annoying, but not necessarily unexpected. She was more surprised that they were giving her a phone at all.

She sat on the end of the bed, legs swinging like a toddler’s as she looked through twitter.

Gotham twitter just wasn’t the same, though. Where were the people joking about how they’d been praying for a Scarecrow attack so they wouldn’t have to take their finals? The underpaid cafe workers talking about how Batman had come in at 5am for coffee to get through the last leg of patrols and they had to turn him down because they weren’t open yet? Even the usual jokes about the Next Wayne(TM) were hidden from her! No, the internet almost seemed empty.

This left her with very few things to do. It wasn’t like she could request people to talk to her -- not that she’d wanted to, she didn’t want to bother them -- so… she was pretty much always working out or sleeping.

Working out was nice. She hadn’t been allowed to do it much while with Harley and it felt weird to be so out of shape. Who knew it could happen so fast? Certainly not her, and she was going to rectify her newfound lack of athletic ability. Dick even came by daily to help, so she was quickly getting back into the swing of things.

But as for sleeping...

Kwami, she missed caffeine.

Her subconscious was apparently determined to torture her.

(She supposed someone had to do it, since Joker hadn’t followed through on his intentions.)

Most dreams were haunted with memories of the stupid fear gas-induced hallucinations. The bats, now accompanied by Harley, would tell her exactly how much of a screw up she was. They’d give her disgusted looks and admit that they regretted ever talking to her or taking her in. And then they’d leave her, alone, surrounded by the corpses of she hadn’t been able to help.

She’d wake up crying and alone. She’d put on a random podcast and then wrap herself up in her blankets to try and trick her mind into thinking someone was with her.

And, when it wasn’t that dream, she found herself drowning in acid again. For such a short part of a series of unfortunate events, it sure did have an effect on her. She’d scream as the acid touched her skin, burned her lungs, tried to seep into her ear canals… and then she’d get pulled out to look at Joker’s smug face and she’d almost want to be pushed back under because she hated to see him looking so satisfied.

Those ones hurt. She’d wake up, her throat screamed raw, her lungs aching. Even hours later, she’d find herself running her hands over every bit of exposed skin to try and get rid of the feeling of the acid gnawing away at her.

The worst dreams, though, were the ones where she’d be visited by Bruce. Everything would go to plan. She’d stab him in the jugular and then pull the pen out, watching as blood spurted from the wound. He’d fall to the ground at her feet, unable to speak above the blood gurgling in his throat, and she’d just watch him. He didn’t even look betrayed, he just looked… he looked like he accepted it, like he accepted her and what she’d done and that he still cared for her after all that she’d done.

And then she’d wake up, but she never really felt awake when those dreams came. She felt like she was still half asleep, her body more limp than Bruce’s had been at the end of her dream, and any emotion she should have seemed impossible.

She hated the numb. At least she could do something with the screaming and the crying, at least she could bring herself down from those. How do you bring yourself down when you aren’t up in the first place?

But, maybe it was a good thing she was numb. It boded well for her. At least she wouldn’t be hurting if -- WHEN -- she managed to do it for real.

She turned off her phone, disappointed as always by how little content interested her, and almost cringed when she caught her appearance in the black screen.

Her skin was bleached from her time in the chemicals. The blood vessels under her eyes had burst when she’d been forced to go without coffee for too long. One of her cheeks were sucked in seemingly permanently from how often she��d been biting it. Her lips were stained cherry-red and stretched thinner than she remembered. Where her ears should have been were large holes in the sides of her head...

But nevermind that! The door slid open with a metallic hiss.

She didn’t know why she’d hoped it would be Bruce, she’d known perfectly well that that wouldn’t be happening for quite some time -- if ever -- but there she was, hoping it would be him. That this would end quickly.

Nope.

She looked up at Cass and Duke and her heart twinged painfully when she saw them.

She had missed them. So much.

(She’d almost been disappointed when she’d found out that they wouldn’t be home when she was going to try and kill Bruce, but then again she wanted them to continue liking her so maybe it was for the best she didn’t attempt to kill their father right in front of them...)

It was nice to see them again. Honestly, she’d missed them more than anyone else. They were her favorites.

(She couldn’t bring herself to feel bad about that. They were pretty much everyone’s favorites.)

She practically threw herself into Duke’s arms. He laughed and, though he struggled a little, he managed to catch her. She buried her face in his chest.

“Wow. I see how it is,” Cass said, but Marinette could hear the smile in her voice so she didn’t bother pulling away. Instead, she reached an arm in the direction of her voice and, once she’d managed to catch the sleeve of her shirt, dragged her into the hug.

The three Diversity Adoptees stayed like that for a long time.

And then she pulled back. “You guys better not have gone ahead in the show without me.”

Duke’s face twitched into a frown momentarily before he smiled again, ruffling her hair. “We didn’t. Scout’s honor.”

“You were a scout?”

He snorted. “God no.”

“Then --?”

“Shhhhhh,” he said, using the hand already in her hair to pull her into a noogie.

“Fuck offfffff,” she whined, trying to peel his knuckles away from her scalp.

Cass pulled her away from Duke. Strong arms wrapped her in a new hug and she blinked before returning it.

“Little sister. Leave her alone,” said Cass.

Marinette shot him a nasty grin from between her arms and Duke sputtered. “But I --.”

“Little sister,” she said again, like that explained anything. Maybe it did. Marinette didn’t particularly care because Cass was smoothing out her hair and it really did feel much better than the noogie she’d been getting…

She closed her eyes and leaned into her, relaxing.

Or, at least, she’d tried to relax. Until Duke sighed dramatically and said “Oh well, I guess I have five months of episodes to go through alone…”

“Wait --!”

She barely managed to lift her head up when she heard the door slide open, and then she bolted upright when she saw who it was.

Jason.

Her hand slid into her pocket, to the pen resting there, and she slowly pulled off the cap.

No. She couldn’t do that. If she tried to kill him then her pen would be confiscated and she couldn’t even imagine being able to kill Bruce with her bare hands.

(Granted, she didn’t really think she had a good chance of killing him with a pen -- it was a PEN -- but it the chances were more than 0% so it was overall way better than just trying to choke him out or something.)

She closed the pen and settled for glaring at him.

This fucker was the reason that she was there in the first place, and he hadn’t even given her an honorable battle that would have felt satisfying, what a --!

He held out a cup of coffee as a peace offering.

What an amazing person. Literally an angel. She loved him. Her favorite member of the batfamily.

If she’d had any less pride, she would have ran to get the coffee. As it was, she still speedwalked to take it off his hands.

The moment the drink touched her tongue, tension she hadn’t even noticed seemed to dissipate. The calm was quickly taken over by desperation, though. She had to fight herself not to chug it down.

(She also had to fight a wave of nausea, her body was not at all used to taking in any food or drinks anymore, but damn it she was going to get this coffee down if it killed her... again.)

Even with her super amazing self-restraint, the drink was gone within seconds. She swirled the remaining dregs, considering the pros and cons of trying to drink it because she remembered someone telling her that the last sip of drinks are always backwash…

But it was backwash that might have had caffeine in it, so she drank it.

She smiled brightly at him. Kwami, she’d missed caffeine so much. The only person who had given her coffee was Riddler the few times he had come to visit. Apparently Harley didn’t approve of it, though, because he had only brought her coffee three times before he’d suddenly stopped appearing.

… she hoped Riddler was still alive. She’d liked Riddler.

But she knew that asking about any of the Rogues would make the bats think that she wasn’t ‘healing’ up properly. So, instead of asking about him, she said “You know, B is gonna kill you for giving me coffee. I just got unaddicted.”

Jason groaned. “Great. Thanks for telling me AFTER you drank it all.”

“Of course. I wasn’t going to let you take it away from me,” she chirped.

He rolled his eyes. “Rude. Fine, I guess you won’t be addicted since it was only one cup. Can’t get in much trouble if I don’t give you more.”

Her eyes widened. “Wait --.”

“Yeah. I’d really prefer if the bats weren’t annoyed at me, so I guess that’s all you’re going to be getting.”

“Jay, wait, I didn’t mean it --.”

“Oh well,” he sighed. He brought a hand to his forehead like he was feeling faint. “If only I had an amazing little sister who would give me a hug --.”

She was wrapped around him before he’d even finished his sentence. Sure, it was blatant manipulation, but there was no way in hell that she was losing her one chance at caffeine.

(Besides, it was a hug. Hugs were nice.)

She’d spent the rest of the day with him, exchanging jokes about death.

The others didn’t really like them. Even Dick, who always liked a good pun, would only get sad when she joked about how she wasn’t alive anymore.

Jason, though… Jason understood.

And his death had been years ago. So he had a lot more jokes than she did.

“Ohohoh one time someone tried to flirt with me by saying they were a necrophiliac and I said ‘deadass?’ and…” He snickered. “And they said ‘yeah, exactly’.”

She brought a hand to her mouth, trying to hide her smile. “Oh my kwami, really?”

“I’m dead serious.”

She rolled her eyes. “I mean, I’d say they were going to hell, but they’d probably like it there.”

He laughed a little, shaking his head.

“It’s nice having someone to make jokes with. Damian doesn’t like joking about it.”

“I know. He’s always all…” He screwed up his face and raised his voice to a whine “‘It is not a joking matter, Todd’.”

She gasped. “It’s almost like he’s here with us.”

“Uncanny, right?”

She closed her eyes, allowing herself to relax.

“... I missed you. We all did,” he said quietly.

She didn’t know what to say to that. Not really. She ended up just giving a tiny laugh and shrugging her shoulders.

His phone beeped in his pocket and she heard him shift to check it. He groaned. “Sorry, kid, I’ve got patrols.”

She nodded slightly and fell back on the bed with a yawn. “You’re coming back tomorrow, right?”

There was a beat.

She cracked her eyes open to see him considering the idea.

“Please?” She tried.

Another beat.

He broke into a grin. “You just want more coffee.”

“Guilty as charged,” she said, not even a little sheepish. “But I don’t mind the fact that you’re coming either.”

“I feel so loved.”

“You are,” she said, with a little pout thrown in for good measure.

He ended up agreeing to bring her coffee daily. She smirked after him. He wasn’t the only one that could manipulate people for things he wants.

Her smirk dropped the moment her hand slipped into her pockets and she realized he’d taken the pen from her when she’d given him a hug.

Bastard.

Her eyes flicked past her visitor briefly and she was met with a nondescript, white wall. She was pretty sure that this wasn’t Wayne manor, with it’s dark reds and browns, but she was almost willing to ignore that logic so she could believe that it was. At least if it was Wayne manor she might have been able to guess her coordinates by making portals appear in rooms at random until she found it. But if she was just… in a place then how was she supposed to ever get out?

She didn’t let this show on her face, because of all of them Dick was the most emotionally intelligent and would definitely notice. Instead, she beamed at him.

“Ready for our workout session?”

It was kinda weird, because it was so much like their old routine. They would stretch and talk and practice new moves… but it didn’t feel at all the same. Before everything had happened they had talked about meaningful things; list off their emotions and talk shit about the other bats (they loved them, sure, but they were a handful).

Now, though, neither of them were actually talking much. There was very little going on in her life, so she didn’t know what to say and he… he seemed to think she was weak or something, like she couldn’t take it. One time he’d almost slipped up and told her about how Tim was worrying him because he was getting borderline obsessive and then, when she’d politely pressed for more, he’d clammed up and told her that she didn’t need to worry about that.

She kind of didn’t like the sessions with Dick. They felt wrong.

But she really missed him and his octopus hugs that she could melt into. So she never told him and they kept doing them.

“Jason gave you coffee,” said Dick instead of greeting her.

“... I managed to do a triple backflip!”

He raised his eyebrows at her and she chose to interpret this as him being disbelieving of her ability to do a triple backflip from the ground (which was fair, she’d taken ages to manage it even once and she had nothing but free time) and not him noticing her feeble attempt at changing the subject.

“I did! Look!”

She tried and landed flat on her face. She could hear his strained breathing as he tried his hardest not to laugh. She wished the floor would just swallow her whole.

At least he wasn’t concerned about the coffee thing anymore?

He took a seat in front of her and she slowly raised her head to look at him despite the fact that she very much wanted to burrow into the floor and never emerge ever again.

“We have footage of it, so I’ve seen it, don’t worry. Tim was pretty proud of you so he showed everyone… and I’m proud of you, too, obviously. That took me years.”

She smiled brightly. Tim was apparently proud of her. She didn’t see much of him, so it was kind of nice to know that he was watching over her... even if it was a little creepy that there were people watching her pretty much every moment of every day to make sure she didn’t escape or kill herself.

“Seriously, though, I’m not letting Jason back if he keeps bringing you coffee.”

The smile on her face dropped and she bit the inside of her cheek. Part of her was kind of mad that Jason had taken the pen from her -- really, she should have figured out that that was what was going on, though, he was never the most cuddly -- and the other part was desperate for coffee.

The coffee addiction won out.

“But…” She sniffled a little and pulled tears to her eyes. She tried not to think about how easily they came. “But I need…”

Dick groaned quietly and she felt arms hook under hers and pull her into a hug.

“This isn’t going to work.”

She buried her face in his shoulder and let the tears fall.

“I know what you’re doing.”

“I can’t sleep,” she whispered. “Please. I can’t. Please.”

Ah. That was a little more genuinely vulnerable than she’d intended on being.

But, hey, it was working. She heard Dick’s breath catch at the admission.

“Why not?” He said softly, running a hand up and down her back.

Why he even bothered to ask, she didn’t know. The bats knew about her nightmares. They knew about everything she did, why would they stop when she fell asleep? But she hadn’t mentioned it up until that point and they hadn’t brought it up either.

Still, she mumbled “Nightmares.” She hesitated only slightly before adding that it was “Ironic that NightMare has nightmares, but...”

Dick gave a laugh and she felt herself smile at the sound. He always did like bad puns. Her smile dropped a little when he told her “You still need sleep.”

She laughed bitterly. “It’s not like I’m getting much of it when I wake up every ten minutes anyways.”

He sighed and she felt his head rest on top of hers. “I guess one cup a day isn’t that bad…”

She gave a halfhearted cheer.

“Would you like to talk about your dreams? Sometimes that helps...”

She didn’t even hesitate to shake her head no. She did, however, hesitate to pull away from the hug. She liked Dick’s hugs far more than she’d ever admit, and ever since she’d come back she’d liked them even more. He was just about the right size and just squishy enough for her to pretend she was getting a hug from Harley.

But, eventually, she managed to pull herself together and she pushed him off as gently as she could.

“Ready to workout?”

Dick was wearing a particularly sad look that she decided didn’t look right on his face.

But then he brought a smile to his face and nodded. “Bet you I’m still more flexible.”

“Probably, but don’t get used to it. Your days as the world’s best gymnast are numbered.”

“Hm. We’ll see.”

Damian.

She blinked at him. She really hadn’t expected him to… come by at all, honestly. Sure, they’d been getting along better than they’d used to and they were partners before she’d disappeared, but they weren’t partners anymore. He had no reason to come talk to her.

She smiled at him nonetheless. Company was company, and she wasn’t about to be picky when she was locked in a room for the foreseeable future.

“Dami!” She said brightly, crossing her legs criss-cross applesauce and then -- after thinking about it for a moment -- smoothed her dress out to make sure everything was hidden. (Damian was only a few months younger than her, she knew that logically, but some dumb part of her kept saying ‘child’.)

He regarded her for a moment before taking a seat beside her.

“Marinette,” he greeted carefully.

“Are you here for something?” She asked.

He hesitated, just slightly, and then nodded.

Ah. She wasn’t sure how she could be of help, compromised as she was, but she was certainly ready to try.

“I would like to know about my miraculous. Plagg has been… behaving oddly recently.”

Her smile slipped off her face at that. “Oddly how?” She said, eyeing his pockets like she believed the kwami would pop out at any moment and show her himself (which, granted, was entirely possible, but apparently not going to happen).

“He’s been more energetic. Less hungry. It doesn’t make sense.”

She thought about this for a few minutes, resting her head on her hand. Damian was right, that didn’t make sense… if anything, Plagg had been getting more laidback and mellow as time has stretched on...

Unless…

“Have you been using him?”

“... no. Is he just hyper from not being used, then?”

She stared at him, her head tipping to the side slightly as she considered him. Why wasn’t he using the miraculous? She would understand if it was a tactical decision to keep Catw -- was she called something else now that she was using the ladybug miraculous? -- Selina from using the miraculous as often, but it seemed he didn’t really know about that… so why…?

She pushed the thought from her mind. Maybe Damian just didn’t like the smell of Camambert. She wouldn’t blame him.

“It’s a balance thing. If the ladybug is used without the cat, the ladybug gets weaker and the cat gets stronger. Opposite thing happens when you use the cat without the ladybug. They’re meant to be used as a pair.” She clicked her tongue. “It probably doesn’t help that you’re on different sides.”

He nodded his understanding.

There was a beat as they just stood there (well, technically they were sitting, but whatever). She was kind of wondering why he was still there when he apparently didn’t need anything else from her, but what was she going to do? Tell him to leave? No. She was kind of desperate for the company of someone that wasn’t Jason or Dick (Cass and Duke only came by weekly so she didn’t mind them as much… also, they were Cass and Duke, so...).

He cleared his throat awkwardly, pulling her from her thoughts.

“Drake has informed me of your state.”

“I’m dead, yeah,” she confirmed.

He winced and his eyes fell to his lap. “I have also died before, if you would like to talk about it.”

She stared at him. She really hadn’t taken him for the kind of person who would offer moral support…

She pulled a smile to her face and leaned over to press a kiss to his cheek. Her smile became a little more real as she watched him scowl and wipe away the kiss.

“Thanks for the offer, Dami, but I’m fine.”

He gave her a skeptical look.

“Really. I’ll tell you guys as much as I need to for you to believe it: nothing much happened while I was there. Honestly, it was more boring than scary. So relax, I’m fine. I’ll live.”

And then, because she couldn’t help it, she added: “Well, that ship sailed long ago, but you know what I mean.”

He clicked his tongue. “Now I have to deal with terrible death jokes from you AND Todd? I wish I were dead.”

“You wish you were STILL dead, you mean?” She teased, reaching out to pinch his cheeks and breaking out into laughter when he swatted her hands away.

He rolled his eyes at her and then, with a short ‘Goodbye’, he left. She watched him leave, and the smile slid from her face in time with the door sliding shut behind him.

She fell back on the bed and closed her eyes. She didn’t get why people were so concerned about her. They’d faced worse. Hell, even SHE’D faced worse. Why were they making such a big deal about it?

Nothing had happened! Did they believe her when she told them that? She’d had no reason to lie, and she hadn’t been lying... and even if they’d thought she had they had Cass to prove she wasn’t. Hell, that was probably why Cass had come by at all, to check on her mental state! So why were they all so worried? They should know it was fine!

And even if she wasn’t fine (which she was!) it wasn’t like she didn’t have the same training as them. She could spot the victim questions from a mile away and she could even ask them to herself. She knew the answers, and she knew which ones she should be avoiding because she knew that they sounded way worse than they actually were.

Some vague part of her whispered that if anything sounded at all bad to the victim questions then she was, in fact, a victim. She buried her face in her pillow and gave a strangled scream of frustration. Now she had their stupid voices in her head telling her something was wrong, too.

She didn’t even look up from her phone when she heard the door slide open. Partially because she was kind of addicted to Geometry Dash and she wouldn’t win if she was looking up and partially because she could smell coffee so she knew who it was anyways.

“Thank fuck you’re here, Jay, I was --.”

“Sorry, but you’re going to have to wait a little longer for him, bean.”

Her eyes snapped to the door and her little box thingy on her screen died but she could hardly bring herself to care.

Tim!

Her face lit up. She hadn’t seen him in a while and she had really been missing him. Also, she noted vaguely, he was apparently healed from all of his injuries. Nice!

Except, as she scrutinized his face, she noticed he looked even more tired than usual. His skin was deathly pale, the bags under his eyes made him look like a raccoon, his hair hung limply around his face…

“Damn, and I thought I looked dead on my feet,” she teased softly to hide her concern.

He managed a smile and she waved him over to lay down with her. He hesitated before coming to sit beside her on the bed.

“When’s the last time you got some proper sleep?” She asked, tugging on the sleeve of his turtleneck to try and get him to lay down and cuddle with her. If she could get him to he might accidentally drift off.

He must have known what she was trying, because he resisted her attempts. “I’m fine. It’s been a while, but it’s nothing I’m not used to.”

She crossed her arms. “Fine. What’s wrong?”

He stared at her confusedly.

“You only get this bad when something is going on. What is it?”

He just kept staring at her and she shifted awkwardly.

“... bean…” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s you. I’m worried about you.”

She groaned. “Not you, too.”

“Obviously I’m --.” He cut himself off and then mulled over his words for a bit. He decided on: “I don’t want to keep you here forever. I don’t want you to get ‘better’ because we Stockholm syndrome-ed you. Or re-Stockholm syndrome-ed you, since Harley already did it.”

“She didn’t --,” Marinette started, but she gave up on that. She knew they all didn’t understand it and arguing would probably only solidify their belief that Harley had messed her up in some way. Instead, she settled to address the rest of the statement: “I mean… I already liked you all beforehand so… it’s not like caring about you would be exactly NEW...”

“It’s still wrong.”

She gave a tiny shrug. “It’s not like you have any other options. I’d probably be doing the same thing if everything was reversed.”

“That doesn’t really make me feel better,” said Tim with a tiny shake of his head.

She bit the inside of her cheek to keep the frown off of her face. “Then I don’t know what you want from me, Tim.”

He sighed. “I want you to get better.”

“Hard to do when I’m already fine.”

“But you’re not! You’re literally dead! How is that at all fine?!”

She rolled her eyes. She was getting a headache, though she wasn’t sure whether or not it was because of caffeine withdrawal (she was pretty sure Jason was supposed to have come in a few hours ago) or annoyance at repeating herself so many times. She pressed her cold hand to her forehead to try and alleviate it somewhat.

“It’s not even that bad, honestly. I can still drink coffee and sleep and that’s all I really care about. I can even feel pain! It’s pretty much the same except I don’t have to go to the bathroom and I can’t change clothes!”

Tim stared at her for a few moments before slamming his palm against his forehead. “That’s what it is!”

“Huh?”

“I thought something was weird about you being dead,” he explained, though it didn’t really explain anything. “Give me a minute, I’ll be back.”

She watched him practically run out the door and frowned confusedly. Sure, it was a little weird that she could still do most stuff, but that didn’t really warrant getting up in such a rush. Maybe the dead thing creeped him out more than he let on and he needed a breather?

So she picked up her phone and started playing Geometry Dash again while she waited for him to come back.

About an hour later she heard the door slide open and she raised her eyebrows at the sight of Tim holding a thermos and a plastic tray of food from Red Robin (the restaurant; anything he cooked was straight poison and if she tried it she might just die for real).

She watched him sit down with them. “You hungry?”

He shook his head and shoved them towards her. “They’re for you.”

Her confusion only seemed to grow.

“Sweetie, I don’t eat,” she reminded him, though she did take the thermos in case… nice! Coffee!

“Except you can if you want to, which is weird, right?”

She shrugged a little, not bothering to tear her lips away from her drink to give him a proper ‘I guess’.

“But where’s it going? Because you don’t go to the bathroom so it has to be used up in some way otherwise you would have probably exploded by now.”

She finished the drink and then set down the empty thermos beside herself. “Magic, probably…”

“Maybe,” he gave her, but that didn’t seem to put him out. “But then there’s the pain thing. Sure, it’s muted, but it’s definitely still there. Why should a dead person feel pain?”

“Because I’m not fully dead…?”

“Exactly!”

She shrugged again. “I really don’t see where you’re going with this.”

“What if you just need food or something to come back? Because you clearly had a headache, and it seems like it’s caffeine-related because you’ve relaxed a little since you had your coffee, which means we know that your digestive, nervous, and circulatory system are still working on some level...”

She stared at the food he’d given her.

“You think that if I eat enough I can come back.”

He nodded. “I know it’s a longshot, but we should at least try it, right?”

#lowkey asks like this stress me out #like i worry that if people are looking forward to something ill let them down #im off to psychoanalyze myself be back in a year #me. noticing something weird about myself: hey ferb i know what were gonna do today #anyways tags #alternate ending #alternative ending #i didn't even notice that i forgot the name lol but i dont wanna retag or anything so we use both #ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #maribat #joker #harley quinn #harley quinzel

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jasmehraj · 4 years ago

Text

Timari out-sick au

Marinette came to Gotham heart-broken. Her best friend, her first crush, her partner knows nothing about her. Nothing. Gabriel hit him hard on the head causing him to lose memory of last 4 years. She then punched Gabriel so hard the battle didn't last long. She was there when he woke up.

"Chaton you are awake?"

"Father? .....Who are you? Where is father and mother?"

She ran away from him and packed her bags. She ended up in Gotham. She did some research on Gotham's vigilantes. She was clearly impressed by Red Robin. He is very smart, analyzed every moment, very powerful and definitely handsome. He is her age and she is sure that he is handsome, there's no way he isn't and he is a coffee addict just like her.

In short she had a crush on him. She started going out as Rouge Gorge. Sometimes she shadowed the vigilantes and sometimes she went out alone. She disguised herself with Trixx's illusions. They all could sense her somehow and Red Robin always looks straight to her direction.

That is why she ended up in this situation. She went out a little earlier than usual. The bats had yet to come. She was running on the rooftops alone when she saw him. A completely sleep deprived man with many coffee cups in his hands. He probably wasn't aware of the people following him, probably muggers. She jumped into action as for some reason he turned to an alleyway. She took care of the two muggers. Where did the third one go? She turned to see the man had pinned the mugger. Subconsciously, without thinking, her stupid mouth said,"R..red robin?"

"So you are the shadow following us?"Well shit. He just confirmed it.

He took a coffee cup and chugged down a whole cup! Then he started coughing. Aaah he is falling. She caught him just in time. What should I do? What should I do?

She made the worst decision of her life. She took him to her apartment.

That's her story. Now she is sitting beside her crush who is laying on her bed, still unconscious. She took the cup he drank and smelled it. It smelled like, like BRANDY? What the hell?

That means he drank a whole cup of very strong alcohol even when he had probably never drank it in this much amount ALL HIS LIFE.

He suddenly woke up and asked her for bathroom. She led him quickly and he threw up. He is probably not aware of his surroundings. That is bad. He rinsed his mouth and she took him back to bed. He was very hot like literally very hot. He has high fever, vomiting..-I'll just check the internet. She then took some water and a cloth. She put the wet cloth on his forehead. He woke up an hour later.

"Shadow?"

"No I am not a shadow. I am Marinette."

"So your vigilant name is Marinette. Its very beautiful name." She felt her face heat up.

"No its Rouge Gorge."

"That's very nice too darling."

She huffed, her red cheeks betraying her,"Thank you."

"Its Ok love."

"Stop doing that."

"Doing what?" He looked like an innocent child. Like he doesn't know anything. Why the hell is he tilting his head at his side. That asshole is smirking.

She groaned,"Calling me these names..?"

"Well darling, are you not the same person who named yourself after me?" Now as if she could get any more red.

"Well that doesn't give a reason to call me those names."

He pretended to think," Well you are beautiful."

She turned away and ran out of there after yelling,"Message your friends, family or something. This conversation is going no where."

When she came back he was sleeping. She sighed in relief. Her cheeks were still red. Maybe taking her drunk crush inside her home wasn't that good idea.

________________________________________________________________________________

Tim slowly opened his eyes. He looked at his surroundings. He was in a bed and the room was unfamiliar. When did he get here? He remembers that while going home he was attacked and the shadow? He took a small knife from his inside pocket. He slowly got out of the bed without making a noise. He made his way towards the door where music was playing.

He slowly opened it to reveal a midnight hair girl working with some kind of..........clothes?

"Who are you and where am I?" She was startled and let out a slow 'ouch'. She put her finger in her mouth.

"You don't remember?"

".........No?"

"I am the shadow as you say. Let me finish. I was out when I saw you getting mugged. I went to help you. You told me you are Red Robin.-"

"I told you?"

"I just said Red Robin and you said Oh so you are the shadow. You drank very strong brandy which was in your coffee. How the hell did you manage to get Brandy in a coffee cup."

He groaned and said,"Jasoooooon....."

"So I didn't know where to take you so I took you to my home...... You were drunk. And.....-"

"And-" He raised an eyebrow.

"Well I told you that my name was Rouge Gorge you started flirting with me. I took care of you. Now you can go back wherever you live. You were sleeping from past 16 hours."

She was not looking at him. She was stitching? He leaned closer to see she was stitching MDC on a skirt.

He processed everything. She is MDC who is also the shadow and her name is Rouge Gorge which means, Red Robin. He flirted with her. SHE IS MDC. SHE IS MDC.

Now his whole face was red. This was the most embarrassing thing he had ever been in. He is going to kill Jason for this.

Just then the doorbell rang. That broke her out of her stupor. He was frozen on his place. He heard voices suspiciously like his family and ran to the door.

Dick was squealing,"Timmy got so cute girlfriend. She is so cute."

Jason laughed,"We are not sure that he didn't kidnap her. She is too good for him."

Damian,"Tt Why did you inbeciles dragged me here?"

Cass just said,"I approve."

Stephanie said,"He never mentioned you before, you are so cute and tiny. Speaking of him where is he?"

Poor Marinette was stuck between them as they asked questions after questions. Then their gaze turned to Tim.

"Oh god, where are your bags Tim? How is this possible? How are you not half-dead. You must be magic you got him to sleep."

"Timmy you were with her, for how long?"

"You got a girlfriend replacement? She is too good for you give her to me."

All the voices were mixing with each other.

"What makes you think she is um.. my girlfriend?"

"You messaged us."

He opened his phone and read the Message.

I, Timothy Drake-Wayne the CEO of Wayne Enterprises, am staying with my girlfriend Marinette. Don't you dare to come here.

What could he possibly say. Suddenly he remembered the MDC signature. He looked at her and said,"You are MDC?" pointing at her.

"Umm, yess." Her voice was barely audible.

He took her hand and sat on one knee,"Marry me."

"What we are not even dating."

"Will you go on a date with me?"

"I.... I guess?"

The silence was broken by Dick,"You are MDC."

"You were not dating?"

"Tt you are so dramatic."

"Replacement what is the meaning of this?"

Tim turned to Jason and said,"Thank you Jason."

With that he went out the door,"Be ready till 3 Marinette."

BONUS:

Louis : So how did you two met?

Tim: My brother put brandy in my coffee cup. She took care of me and when I get to know she was my favorite designer and how amazing she is....

Clark: And?

Marinette: He asked me to marry him, I said we are not even dating so he asked me for a date.

Louis :..............................................

Clark:...............................................

Cameraman:.....................................

Batfamily: (Laughing)

Louis: We give you our blessing for your wedding.

Clark: God bless you.

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blackwolf12 · 4 years ago

Text

Prank War

All of this started when Dick was bored, Bruce was off world and Alfred was gone for a few days, so he decided to prank Damian. He called Damian to his room "Dami can you come here for a sec?" Dick could barely contain his giggles.

"Tt- what do y-" Damian was cut short when pink paint, glitter and feathers fell on top of his head. He looked angrily at Dick "Grayson!" he shouted and proceeded to chased Dick around the Manor. Everyone else was, for once, quietly minding their business when those two intrupted the peaceful silence. Dick then jumped on the brown couch which Jason was sitting on making Jason growl. "One, two, three, four, I declare a prank war" Dick shouted.

Tim groaned, "Dick!" he whined. "Don't you remember last time? You know when there was a literal pink elephant in the manor, before that the pools were pink. Every. Pool. In Gotham. Was. Pink." He said slumping with each word. "Alfred took my coffee away... For a month!" He whimpered and said "I almost died" dramatically.

"Eh. Whats done is done. Let the war begin" Dick announced bouncing on the sofa like a little kid. "Damian, Cass and Jason are team red. Tim, Steph and me are team blue."

"Seriously Dick? I dont even want to take part in the prank wars. Any you put the good ones in the other team!" Stephanie protested. Dick grinned at him, "Too late."

The teams went their seperate way to prepare. Team Red was discussing who was going to aim for who in the war. "You two can choose out of Drake and Brown. Grayson is mine" Damian growled not over the pink glitter accident. "I'll take replacment, so Cass can you take Steph?" Jason asked. Cass nodded grimly. Honestly thay acted like it was a real war. It was just so amusing.

Back with Team Blue they had two members who weren't even trying. "I just wanted to drink coffee and solve some cases peacefully. But obviously there is not peace here" Tim said glaring at Dick. "You can do your stuff after this, Steph you can take Jason, Tim can take Damian and I will take Cass. Kay?" Dick said rhetorically. "Fine lets get this over with" Stephanie grumbled.

Damian set an onslaught of prank upon Dick making him regret the pink glitter very much. First his hair became pink, then his nails somehow became pink, and he had pink makeup that would not come off. He also found himself stuck in a huge room with a mirror maze. It took him an hour to get out and he hit his nose on the mirrors multiple times (a/n This has happened to me. The mirror part).

Jason had hid the coffee machine and threw every coffee packet outside. And somehow managed to close every coffee selling place temporarily. Tim cried a lot and then passed out. When Tim woke up there was a coffee packet on the floor whick kept moving away from him till the packet got burned and he cried all over again. Nobody seemed that sad about it.

Cass made all of Stephanie's clothes colours that look hideous and that you would want to wash your eyeballs. Stephanie somehow got her hair dyed green, which would look horrible with her newly coloured clothes. Her spoiler costume was dyed green and orange which does not go together. There was a scream in the manor that day, so imagine birds flying away because it was really loud and the whole manor shook.

Stephanie hid all of Jason's guns and kept paintball guns there instead. Jason honestly wasn't so sad about that. When he shot it at criminals they would be stunned long enough for him to knock them out. Jason was considering keeping some of the paintball guns. And the out of the blue some of Jason's leather jackets smelt like fish which is something he hates. It would just not wash out. They also turned blue after that.

Dick made Cass' costume pink and yellow and tried to jump scare her multiple times, emphasis on tried. Her belt which strored all of her batarangs and some other stuff was so lose it kept slipping off. Some of her stuff was also found in really high places. But she had no trouble getting them down.

Tim took all of Damian's swords and stashed them and then hung Damian upside down when he was sleeping. He kept spraying Damian with water like he was a stray cat and Damian got annoyed. Damian also found himself pushed into the pool multiple times. Everytime he came out he shook al the water of himself like a grumpy cat which he is.

After that both teams went all out and chaos was unleashed. Somehow they got the once beautiful white walls splattered with pink paint everywhere. There were slime balls, water balloons, eggs, the sofas were overturned and everything was coloured. They were all screaming at each other about anything. And some point Dick was trying to sing operas but failed and sounded like a dying donkey. Then everyone started screaming at him.

T'was the jingle of keys that everyone heard and froze. "Well Masters who is going to clean this up?" Alfred was home and Alfred was not a happy camper.

"H-hey Alfie, how was the trip?" Dick said nervously.

"Who's idea was this?" Alfretd said sharply. Everyone pointed at Dick. "Guys!" Dick whined. "Master Richard I expect the house to be spotless before you go back to Bludhaven. And no cookies for you."

Dick went on his knees and screamed "Noooooooooo!" dramatically and much longer. Everyone else snickered and went to eat cookies. But after that they went to help him (they were forced to help because the ninja butler said so)

Hey. Hope you liked this, gimme some prompts. Just comment and I'll write it. Stay safe guys.

#Batfam #prank war #jason todd #cass cain #Stephanie Brown #dick grayson #Tim Drake #Damian Wayne #alfred the ninja butler

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consumedkings-archive · 4 years ago

Photo

ii. damage done & damage made ✤ roman sionis/varya astakhova

words: 2.2k

summary: thanks to @starcrier for entertaining my daydreams about my favorite murder duo, we now have a oneshot that literally no one asked for: roman and varya, and their babies, in a tea shop. living their perfect crime lives. that’s all.

rating: m for Adult Language and threats of face-tearing

warnings: the aforementioned face-tearing, roman’s mouth (per usual), domestic murder family. babies being cute.

Mark liked his job, a lot. Working a tea shop felt like a step up from the typical entry-level customer service job, and he got a huge discount on all of the products—not to mention, flexible hours while he was balancing school and needing to pay rent, and premium people-watching. Some days, like today, the card machine acted up and he had to ask customers to put their card numbers in manually, but most of them were understanding. All-in-all: he felt pretty lucky.

So when a young couple wandered into the shop one afternoon, it felt like any other kind of afternoon for him. They matched the usual demographic that liked to stop there; well-dressed, usually a little more upper class given the neighborhood. The woman—small and slender, balancing a stylishly dressed infant on her hip—smiled at him charmingly while the man redirected a two-seat stroller to an area less clustered by shelves, slowly rocking it back and forth.

“Good afternoon!” Mark greeted as the woman approached, keeping his voice softer in case the man was trying to rock another infant to sleep. “Can I help you find anything today?”

“Hello! Yes, well—admittedly, I am not as well-versed in teas as I would like to be,” the brunette said sweetly, a little sheepish. The infant babbled happily and clutched the pendant of her necklace in his fingers.

Mark offered her a smile. “No worries. What kinds of flavors do you like? I have quite a few—”

“Varya,” the man said from where he had been pushing the stroller back and forth, “do you have my phone? I need to make a call.”

“Oh, yes. One moment.” She fished a sleek, dark phone from her purse, passing it to the man before turning her eyes back to Mark. The man, presumably her husband, dialed a number and balanced the phone between his ear and shoulder before the call connected and he started talking—his voice low so that Mark could barely hear him over Varya’s attentions. He had gloves on; black, leather, embossed with something in gold; maybe his initials?

Varya said lightly, “Flavors?”

He flushed, quickly diverting his eyes. “Yes, right. Your favorite flavors?”

“Hm. I prefer spiced teas,” she began, eyes scanning the shelves. “My mother used to make a tea with cloves and cinnamon, do you have anything like that?”

“Certainly,” Mark replied brightly. He turned back to the shelves, humming for a moment. She had had a bit of an accent; it sounded Russian, but it was so slight he couldn’t quite be sure. There were plenty of tourists and sightseers coming in and out of the shop that he’d gotten used to skimming for quick details, like accents or nice clothes or expensive jewelry. And if the gigantic rock on the woman’s finger was any indication, they were hitting all of the boxes for the people that usually walked into a boutique tea shop.

Pulling one of the jars off of the shelf, Mark pulled the cap and offered it to her to smell. “This one’s got cinnamon and cloves, but ginger and cardamom, too. I really like to make it with—”

“No, no, no, no,” her husband bit out into the phone, the stroller rolling to a stop as he stilled his attempts at keeping the baby asleep, “you listen to me, you pint-sized fuckhead, when I tell—”

Varya, completely unbothered by her husband’s vicious tone, shifted the infant to her other hip, smelling the looseleaf mixture again. “It smells so good. I think it is the ginger that makes it good. What did you say you like to make it with?”

“Um,” Mark said, trying not to stare at the man in the velvet suit saying, and I’m going to cut your fucking face off, you piece of shit, did you know that? Do you know who I am? That’s right, and I can do whatever I fucking want, and that means cutting your dumb fucking face off and putting it on display in my loft for my dinner guests, “cream?”

“Oh, that’s interesting,” she murmured idly, reading through the list of ingredients again. “Do you have those little—” She gestured with her free hand. “—to steep the mixture with?”

“Y—” Mark swallowed. His gaze flickered back to the glossy brunette, her lips pouted and the baby nestled against her neck, seemingly putting himself to sleep despite the noise. “Yes, of course. Do you prefer the, um...”

“In English, you fucker,” Roman seethed into the phone, “your—yeah, well, your boss is American, I don’t care where you were born. So tell me in English how many fucking guns are being held up in bumfuck-nowhere-Russia, you—”

“This one is nice,” Varya interjected gently, picking up one of the steel ones. “I like the ones that have a finer mesh. Less chance of getting the debris in there, you know?”

He was trying to remember when the last time he’d taken a breath was. It very suddenly all made too much sense—well-dressed couple, twins, the embossed gloves and the accent and oh my God, oh fuck, oh fucking God oh shit oh fuck I have Roman Fucking Sionis and his Russian gun lord wife in the tea shop I’m going to fucking die—

“Mark?” she prompted. The dulcet tone of her voice broke him out of the panic running through his brain. Unfortunately, the sound of her saying his first name only firmly cemented in his brain the fact that he was now assisting the wife of Gotham’s biggest crime lord in picking out a looseleaf tea.

He swallowed thickly. “H—How, um, did you know my name?”

Varya tilted her head inquisitively. “Your nametag, my love.”

“Oh,” he replied, letting out a nervous laugh. “Of course. Um. Right, those do have a finer mesh. I like them better too. It’s similar t-to the um—the kind of mesh you would—you would have in the teapot. You know. If you were going to do it by the pot. And not the cup. Like for more than one cup of tea.”

A smile ticked the corner of her lips upward. If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought she was enjoying his apparent discomfort. “I do like to make more than one cup of tea, on occasion. Do you sell teapots? Can I see those?”

Mark opened his mouth to say that of course, she could see the teapots—did she want his? His personal teapot? He could run home and grab it if she wanted, please don’t shoot me in the face—when the stilling of the stroller’s movements seemed to have distressed the other twin. As soon as she started fussing, Roman threw his free hand up in exasperation.

“Do you hear that, Maxim?” he demanded. “That’s my daughter, crying, because I was so fucking fed up with your idiocy that I stopped rocking her to sleep. What? Do I want to—no, I don’t want your mother’s fucking aromatic recipe for putting infants to sleep, I’m already in a fucking tea shop!”

Varya let out a little sigh. “Excuse me one moment, Mark.”

“Sure,” Mark replied, scratching his forehead. “Sure, no worries, take—um, take your time.”

She swept away from him, returning the happy infant to the stroller and pulling from it the fussy one, bouncing the baby a few times before she said, “Romy, you know Yuli only likes when you bounce her. Trade me.”

Mark watched as Roman’s mouth downturned in a firm frown; he eventually acquiesced, taking the crying baby and offering the phone to Varya, who planted the phone against her ear and pushed the double stroller outside and into fresh air, taking with her the conversation which quickly shifted into a foreign language. For what it was worth, as soon as the little girl was in Roman’s arms, she almost immediately stopped fussing—though he did bounce her and make his way over to Mark, brows furrowed despite his daughter’s happy babbling.

“What one did she like?” he asked, less silken than his better half.

“What?”

“The tea,” Roman answered, squinting. “What tea did she like?”

“Uh,” Mark said, “the—uh, this one. Sir.” He held out the jar, but Roman waved his hand in dismissal.

“Pack some of that up. And the—whatever the fuck this is,” he added, gesturing at the steeper. “That too.”

Mark pulled one of the bags out from the drawer, working quickly despite the tremble in his hands. “Just the steeper? Sir?”

Roman had turned his attention back to the curly-haired baby, waving a gloved finger in her vision to keep her occupied, when Mark had posed his question. “What? Speak up, I’ve got a chatty infant here.”

“She—she wanted to look at the teapots, too.” Mark packed the looseleaf tea into the bag. The scale remained untouched. The idea of taking the time to weigh the tea and charge appropriately had completely fled his mind. “S—Sir.”

“Huh.” Roman squinted at the wall of teapots, seeming to deliberate for a moment. “We’ll take that one. The black and gold. And the steeper, and the tea.”

“Sure. For sure. Good choice. That’s my favorite one,” he added, realizing somewhere in his brain that he was babbling but that he couldn’t stop. “It’s hand-made, so it has—um, it has like...Little flaws, that make it worth a lot, because it was made by a famous—”

Varya returned to the shop, phone tucked away and only their doe-eyed son in her arms again. She gave Roman’s shoulder a squeeze with her free hand and then turned her attention to Mark, smiling prettily. “That’s the one he picked out?”

Mark nodded, hesitated midway through packing the pot. “Yes. Do you like it? Did you want a different one? I have some new ones in the back—”

“It’s perfect,” she assured him. She looked at Roman, glowing, and reached up to press a kiss to his cheek. “I love it.”

The blonde looked pleased. “Yes, well, who knows you better than me?” And then: “What did Kuznetsov tell you?”

Hurrying through the packing, Mark managed to get everything rang up amidst the couple’s idle chatter—which consisted of Varya explaining that ten thousand guns were held up in Kazakhstan, which was not Russia, but used to be part of Russia, at which point Roman waved his hand and went ‘whatever’—and ran the man’s heavy, black card through the card machine.

The machine beeped three times in alarm, and Mark felt his stomach plummet. The fucking machine’s broken, he remembered, with despair. Oh my God, oh my God, I’m going to fucking—

“What?” Roman barked out. “What is it?”

“The—the um, the machine is—I’m sorry,” he blurted out. “The machine is broken and I h-have to have you—put in the card number manually—”

The man made the most indignant sound, but before he could attempt to get fired up all over again, Varya said, “Romy, why don’t you load the twins up in the car? Armazd already put the stroller away. I’ll finish up here.”

Roman’s mouth pressed into a thin line, and then he said, “Alright, V,” and accepted the second infant into his other arm, toting them both outside. Varya looked at Mark and smiled sympathetically, holding out her hand for the machine; Mark handed it over, absently pulling at a loose thread on his apron as she started carefully inputting the card number.

“Do you have children, Mark?” she asked conversationally. “A partner?”

“Uh,” he replied very intelligently. “N-No. No ma’am. I mean, miss. No, I don’t have either of those, miss.”

“It is definitely a life change,” she said by way of agreement, pocketing the card and waiting for the machine to process. “Suddenly, your hands are full all the time.”

A nervous laugh bubbled up out of him, and he nodded his head; the seconds ticked by, agonizing as Varya hummed and gathered up the bag until it finally beeped its approval of the transaction.

“Thank you, my darling!” she called over her shoulder. “I am sure I will be back.”

“Welcome,” he replied weakly. He watched her make her way to the door, nearly out; it wasn’t until his shoulders slumped in a bit of relief that she stopped and turned to look at him, a sly little smile on her face.

“Before I forget,” Varya began, “perhaps, if you find yourself thinking about any of the conversation you heard today—you know, about business—it is best to keep it to yourself. It is not particularly confidential, you see, but...Well, I would just hate to feel like I could not bring my business back here because I cannot trust you.”

An unpleasant little chill sprinted down his spine. He shifted on his feet, wetting his lips for a moment as he tried to figure out what it was he wanted to say; how many times could he swear up and down that nothing he heard today about guns or Kazakhstan to assure her that she wouldn’t have to worry about it? That he would literally rather put pencil shavings in his eyes than put the Sionis target on his back?

“Mark,” she said, “all you have to say is that you understand.”

“I do,” he blurted out quickly, “I do understand.”

She smiled brightly. “I knew you were a good boy. Have a lovely afternoon!”

Just like that, she swept out of the shop; he was finally alone. Mark slumped into his chair, passing a hand over his face for a moment—long enough for him to sit up, press his face into the palms of his hands, and say:

“I have to quit my job.”

#my writing #otp: this smile is a loaded gun #roman sionis x original female character #birds of prey oc #roman sionis/original female character #bop oc #birds of prey fic #bop fic #i went to one (1) tea shop yesterday and now this has lived rent free in my brain #thanks to star for some reason putting up with this absolute nonsense #ch: varya astakhova #ch: roman sionis #ugh #i just miss......They #my children

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boyy-wonder-grayson · 5 years ago

Text

Tension

Requested:yes

Summary: Dick and the reader can’t never seem to see eye to eye. Can too much fighting result in something else?

Warnings: smut. blowing things up?

Word count:1.346

They were arguing once again. It was about something stupid really. Who was supposed to protect Rachel from that family of weirdos that were looking for her. Dick was mad at (Y/N) because she was the one who was supposed to stay back and protect Rachel while went on to investigate who this people were, but she didn't like to be told what to do, specially if it was Dick Grayson who told her what to do.

They didn't hate each other per se, but there was something about the way dick treated her that make her blood boil every time he spoke to her in a condescending way. She didn't hold back either, oh no, that's why everyone was tired of their shit.

They usually tried to avoid talking to each other on the daily, because they knew that the moment someone said something out of place, they will explode. Quite literally in (Y/N)'s case.

Her powers were still fresh and she still had trouble trying to get a grasp of them.

Omnikinesis was one of the most powerful sources of powers. The powers of all powers they called it. Basically she can control every tangible object in existence, and while it was pretty cool, she still didn't know much about them. She didn't even remember how she got them. The only thing she remembered was waking up on a medical table with words all over her body, and a bunch of scientists trying to experiment with her. Luckily she was able to escape, and was welcomed by everyone in the team Titans. Well everyone except Dick.

She didn't even know why was Dick the way he was with her. Since day one they've been butting heads about every possible topic in existence.

And now that they were on a solo mission, with Rachel and Gar trying to protect them, things got a lot more complicated than they expected.

She was supposed to stay with Rachel while dick took care of some business back in Gotham, but when the family took the girls by surprise in a gas station, well let's say things got messy.

She didn't meant to explode like that, but she didn't know that it was going to be that bad. While trying to keep Rachel safe she blew up a gas station and now was profiled as a suspect by the feds.

Things couldn't get worse, could they?

Yep, they did.

When Dick finally reunited with her and the kids, he was furious. He took her aside to talk to her. More like scream at her. She saw it coming anyway. The way his fists clenched, his jaw was set and his eyes were shining with rage.

"How can you be so fucking irresponsible?" He hissed through gritted teeth.

She didn't answer right away, which made him even more frustrated.

"It was an accident! I didn't know that that was going to happen" she defend herself.

Dick pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

"You literally blew up a gas station,and your defense is 'i didn't know that was going to happen'?" He asked with a dry laugh.

He took off his jacket and threw it on the bed. He was angry at her for not being responsible enough with this whole mission. They were supposed to be taking care of Rachel not blowing off their covers. Now she was in the wanted list by the feds, as if they didn't have enough problems as it is.

"I told you I can't control my powers that well! I got scared and then everything went to shit!" She replied annoyed. She was frustrated too, she understood what this meant. She fucked, she was aware of that, but there was no using beating a dead horse.

"Besides what was so important that you have to leave?" She asked "if you didn't trust me with this why did you even leave?" She said with poison in her words.

Dick visible tensed at her words. He turned around and was fast to reply in her same harsh tone

"Because I thought you'd be decent enough not to fuck this up!" He screamed. He was angry now, furious.

"Ooh because the great Dick Grayson is the only one who doesn't fuck up!" She said humorously "cry me a river Grayson, you're not better than me".

"Just shut up!" He yelled at her. He didn't care that they were probably loud and that Rachel and Gar could hear them.

"Make me!" She yelled back. The atmosphere of the room changed immediately. All the frustration and anger was substituted with lust. The were both heavy breathing. Waiting for the other to make a move. All those flights and yelling matches were nothing more than a cover for what was really underneath all of that. Lust. They noticed the tension in the air after every fight. They noticed the lingering stares and the way they always stood close to each other. And tonight was no different, the only thing that changed was that Dick actually took a step forward and captured her lips in a searing kiss.

She moaned when his tongue made its way into her mouth. He tasted so good. Dick's hand roamed through her body squeezing and touching everything that was in their way. She let out another, louder this time, moan when he grabbed her butt, pulling her so close that their chests were pressing against each others. She wasted no time and found the hem of Dick's shirt trying to pull him out of it. They broke the kiss for a second to remove each others shirts. They kept on kissing while (Y/N) started to walk backwards towards the bed; dick grabbed her legs and signaled for her to jump. He picked her up without effort and threw her into the mattress. He wasted no time and took off her jeans and boots, and then his. Kissing her all the way from her calves to her tights. (Y/n) moaned every time Dick's lips touched her hot skin. When he finally got where she most wanted him, he stopped and looked how desperate she was for him. He would be a list if he said that he has never imagined something like this. In his fantasies she kept on screaming his name over and over,and tonight his dream would come true. The thought of making her come made him even harder. Before she could tell him to do something, Dick licked all around her clit causing a strangled moan to erupt from her throat. He keep on doing this, licking biting and kissing everywhere except where she was expecting him to do. Dick felt how desperate she was for him to do something more, to stop playing; dick introduced two fingers into her pussy and finally give her what she wanted. She was on cloud nine. She was getting more and more sensitive the more he fingered her and she was about to come when Dick abruptly stopped.

She opened her eyes and whined at him

"What did you stop?" She asked feeling betrayed that he stopped.

"Because if I don't get inside you right now, I'm going to explode" he replied looking for a condom. He didn't give time to complain again before he was fucking her. She moaned his name. And she did it over and over again, just like he had imagined, but this time it felt ten times better.

"Fuck, baby you feel so good" he moaned in her ear. Dick was not much of a taller during sex but sex with her was a whole other level.

She came first and he followed soon after. They were both exhausted. Their sweaty bodies were entangled under the sheets and Dick put (Y/N) closer to him so she could rest her head on his chest.

"You know, maybe we should fight more often" she said stifling a laugh. Dick chuckled and kissed her hair.

"Maybe we should, yeah" he answered before kissing her.

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x y/n #dick grayson x you #dick grayson imagine #titans imagine #titans #netflix titans #nightwing #dcu #dc #fanfic #imagine #dick grayson #dick grayson smut

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