#shot Damian with what appears to be an energy shot

[twotailednekomata]

What the fuck has Robin been shot with!

[petite-phthora]

Shouldn’t have digital evidence when you have a family of hackers

[DP x DC fic]

[Love at first... murder? - part 14]

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Part 1

Ao3

---

Text in italics and in-between ' means it is said in sign language

'For example.'

If an entire scene is written in italics, that means that that scene is a flashback.

---

When Jason glances at where Danny and Ellie were, he sees nothing. He’s too relieved to really care much about how they got out of here so quickly.

He’ll ask Danny about it later.

Probably…

“Red Hood.”

“Bitch.” Is his response.

Jason is slightly disappointed, but entirely unsurprised, by the lack of reaction he gets.

“Who were they?”

“What were those civilians doing on the roof?”

“Where did they even go?”

“Just some informants for a case I’ve been working on.” Jason says, not giving anything about them away.

“Which case?”

“Did they attack you?”

“Yeah, who took a bite out of your arm? And more importantly, how did you taste?”

“Steph, I don’t think now’s the time—”

‘Medical assistance?’

Jason follows the Bats’ gazes towards his injured arm. He resists the urge to hide it and instead crosses his arms, trying to play it off.

“No, this is from… a cat.”

“A cat?”

“Yes. A stray cat. Bit me.”

“Tch. It’s obvious Todd is incompetent when it comes to caring for animals. For it to attack you like that you must have done quite poorly. What did you do to it?” Damien glares at him in an accusatory way.

“I didn’t do shit, Demon Brat. I was just scanning the street when it bit me outta nowhere.”

“Well, excuse me if I don’t believe you, Todd. You clearly must have cornered, threatened, or hurt it in some way for it to react—"

“Yeah, yeah.” Jason cuts him off and rolls his eyes, even though none of them can see it through the helmet. The energy is there.

“Animals hate me, and I can’t take care of them for shit. Now, can we move on to why you’re all here on my turf?” Jason stares them all down.

Before anyone else can speak up, Dick starts talking.

“Can’t an elder brother just visit his younger sibling every once in a while?” Dick asks with a totally innocent grin.

“No.”

Dick shrugs. “Worth a shot.”

“While we originally came here to interrogate you about your involvement in the disappearance of the Joker, these imbeciles wanted to use the encounter as a way to simultaneously confront you about your new… beloved” Damian says, gesturing towards the others sounding completely done and unimpressed.

‘Got them flowers?’

“So how was the dinner? And the observatory? Do they like the stars? What’s their name? Hobbies? Age? Appearance? Interests?”

“Are they hot?”

“Seeing as you picked up a bouquet of sweet peas in costume, and didn’t take a detour to your apartment or safehouse before your location started glitching, I have to ask. Are you dating a civilian as Red Hood?” Babs speaks up over the comms.

Tim stays suspiciously silent, not asking any questions. Jason cuts them all off.

“Where the hell did you even get this information from?”

“Tim snitched.”

“Drake mentioned it.”

“Tim.”

“Timmy told us.”

“Red Robin informed us about your outing.”

“I hacked some cams to see you pick up the flowers, but Tim was the one to say you were on a date at the time.”

Tim raises his finger and opens his mouth as if he’s about to speak up and defend himself. He then stops, seemingly considering something before dropping his hand back down and just shrugging.

“If you didn’t want anyone to know you shouldn’t have gone out as Red Hood when getting the flowers and taking them out to dinner.

“Besides, I tried to respect your privacy and redirect everyone somewhere else to keep them off your back. But they interrogated me, and I’m sorry.” He says, not sounding sorry at all. “It just… slipped out.”

“You didn’t try that hard—"

Tim shushes Steph and cuts her off.

“Besides! Babs also stalked you! Through the cameras! And, I didn’t say that much. I just told them you were on a date.”

Jason glares at them all through the visor of his helmet. Meanwhile, Dick crosses his arms and pouts.

“Yeah, Timbers—” “No real names.” “— wouldn’t tell us anything! He used his lack of sleep against us.”

---

“So Timmy, I need you to tell me everything. Pretty please?”

Tim raises his finger and opens his mouth as if he’s about to speak up. Then his eyes roll into the back of his head and he starts falling backward.

Dick yelps and manages to catch him before he falls onto the ground and hits his head.

“Damn it, Tim!” He whines. “Passing out like that should not have been the power move that it is.”

“He can fall asleep after this?!” Steph’s incredulous voice pipes up.

Dick’s gaze moves from Tim over to where Steph was previously half-dying due to Tim’s monstrosity of a drink. She’s standing by now, clutching the mug in a death grip. She’s twitching every now and again, her foot tapping the floor rapidly.

“Ehm, Steph? You okay?”

“Mhmm, think I’m having a stroke”

“Oh, that’s not good—”

Dick cuts himself off as Steph starts to stumble. He moves closer to catch her in case she falls as well, but luckily she manages to save herself from falling, clumsily moving to sit down on the floor instead.

Once seated, she lets her back hit the floor. She also lets go of the mug, letting it spill onto and roll around the floor of the cave.

“Y’know, I think I’m just gonna stay here for a bit. Maybe do some stalactite gazing. It’s riveting stuff, I tell you!”

Dick lets out a small sigh and nods a little.

“You do you, boo”

He gets a thumbs-up in response.

---

“Why are you actually here?” He cuts them off, already done with their bullshit. “Don’t start the bullshit about the ‘date’ again. Either talk business or leave.”

He privately notes the lack of green in his vision.

They all glance at each other before Batman steps forward and speaks up.

“What is your involvement in the disappearance of the Joker.”

“I don’t have anything to do with the Joker’s disappearance” Jason vehemently denies, arms still crossed.

“Are you sure about that?” Babs’ voice pipes up over the comms.

A hologram forms above Batman’s gauntlet computer. The hologram shows a picture of Jason in his Red Hood costume without his helmet grinning at the camera. He’s holding up the camera selfie style and seems to be in one of the alleys of Crime Alley.

The most intriguing part of the picture is the figure next to Jason on the ground. There, in clear view, lies the dead body of the Joker. His head seems to be caved in in a way that shows he most likely died on impact, hit by something that had a lot of force.

Jason pauses at the sight of one of his most precious keepsakes.

“Of course you hacked my phone” He scoffs, clearly unhappy.

Jason turns back to look at the Bats and watches their reactions to the revelation the Joker is most certainly dead. Dick seems to have some sort of weight lifted off of his shoulders. Cass doesn’t give anything away.

Damian is unimpressed, scoffing at the hologram and likely already mentally criticizing the technique. Steph seems to be more relaxed, “Damn, Jason, this totally looks like that one Grant Gustin next to the grave meme,” while Tim seems to be having some kind of world-shattering epiphany.

He then eyes Batman’s tense posture. Jason shifts slightly, getting ready to fight if it comes to it.

“Red Hood. Did you kill the Joker?” Batman grinds out slowly, pinning Jason with a soul-piercing stare. Jason carefully eyes Batman’s tightened fists before locking eyes with him again.

“No,” Jason answers honestly.

Jason and Batman are locked in a stare-down, neither speaking another word. The tense silence goes on for a few seconds before it’s broken by Dick casually putting his arm around Jason’s shoulders in a friendly gesture.

“Welp. Seems like he didn’t do it, B. If he says he didn’t, I believe him.” Dick speaks up.

Jason and Batman both untense a little, the moment broken. Jason lets out a small grumble and shrugs Dick’s arm off his shoulders. Dick lets him with a smile.

“Wait, so you just found his body dead in a ditch somewhere? I called it!” Steph pipes up.

She holds her hand up for a high-five. Cass gives her one.

Jason shrugs nonchalantly “You could say that.”

“You may not have killed him, but it’s clear you’re covering for the actual murderer. Who is it and why are you protecting them?” Batman asks, not letting it go.

“You may not believe me, B, but it was just a freak accident as far as I could tell.”

If you call a meta one-punching the Joker in self-defense a ‘freak accident’.

It’s not like Danny meant to do it. Ergo: accident.

“Nothing more, nothing less. I found him like that. All I did was get rid of the body and wipe some cams. Not that those would have been much helpful if let unwiped anyway.” He shrugs, unconcerned.

“Do you know what caused the files to become corrupted this way? I’ve seen corrupted files before, but this is something else…” Babs says over the comms, tone curious.

“Nah, they were like that even before I wiped them. Might have something to do with whatever took the fucker out. Don’t know though, and I don’t care.I’m just glad the city’s finally rid of that bastard.”

“Amen to that!”

Batman’s glare moves over from Jason to Tim, who meets his gaze headfirst and just gives him an unimpressed stare in return.

“You gotta be honest, B. There’s not really anyone gonna be missing him…”

“Now, if that’s all. I gotta go. I’ve got some work to do, cases to solve, groceries to buy. Y’know, not everyone has the freedom to walk around dressed as furries beating up bad guys 24/7. Some of us have a life.” Jason cuts in.

“And since when are you the one to have a life outside of being a vigilante?”

“Oh, you know, since somewhere around the time my gruesome murder was finally avenged,” Jason says sarcastically.

“Who knew that that would be something that would make it feel like a weight is lifted off of your shoulders and that it would finally bring some peace into your life?

“Let me know if you find the guy who did it, okay? Feel like this was a great service to the community and it deserves a nice reward. Might bake ‘em a cake or something. Maybe some cookies… ” Jason pretends to think.

“Where’s the body?” Batman asks, ignoring Jason’s sarcasm.

“And when are you going to introduce us to your new partner?” Dick chimes in as well.

“Not telling you, and never if I can help it. Now, goodbye.” Jason grinds out before leaving.

Jason turns and runs to the edge of the building, making his way over to the next building and leaving the Bats behind on the roof. As he gets farther away from the other vigilantes, the last thing he hears is Steph speaking up.

“Is it just me or did that conversation involve a lot less… green-eyed rage than I expected?”

Now, it’s time to plan that next date…

---

Taglist:

@i-always-say-yea @uraniumwizard @why-must-i-be-like-this @griffinthing @i23432i @imsotiredfanficlovertm

[heqvenlymoons]

You Drive Like A Maniac

Inspired by this tumblr post from @miraculousmelodies <3 This one shot focuses more on the family dynamics between Damian, Dick, Jason and Tim, but Marinette does appear in the end. Also, established daminette. Daminette One Shot | Crack Fic | AO3

It was a normal day at the Wayne Manor. 

Damian, Dick, Jason, and Tim were all doing their own thing in the living room while Bruce was off somewhere on a mission with the Justice League. 

That was until Damian got a call from Marinette, “Hey, Dami! Do you mind picking me up from Fabric Fusion? My—”

The call cuts off all of a sudden, sending Damian into a panic as his mind jumps to conclusions about what could have happened. Someone could have knocked her out from behind and kidnapped her!

Dick watched his youngest brother’s panicked expression with concern. “What’s up with you, Little D?” 

“Something occurred with Marinette. She requested me to pick her up from Fabric Fusion, and then the call cuts off abruptly.” Damian blurted out, already jumping to his feet and rushing out of the living room with his siblings following close behind. 

Moments later, Damian and his adopted siblings piled into the car in their yard and to their dismay, it was out of gas upon ignition. 

The heavy rain was obscuring the view, but Damian could make out the black jeep a few distance away, seeming to be stalking the neighbouring manor. He wasted no time in hijacking the car. 

Dick knocked out the middle-aged man with a precise strike to a pressure point while Jason and Tim tossed the man onto the grass to soak in the rain, their worries for Marinette outweighing their morals. 

Jason took the driver’s seat, followed by Dick settling into the passenger’s seat while Damian and Tim sat in the back. The car took off before any of them could have the chance to fasten their seat belts. 

Though Dick did click his seat belt into place once they were in the streets, and he chastened his siblings to do the same, only to get ignored in response. Safety was apparently the last thing on everyone’s mind whenever Marinette was involved. 

Jason placed more weight on the accelerator with his foot in response, speeding through the streets like he was trying to win a race. “Oh shut up, Dickiebird, you’re a cop! Abuse your power for once. It’s for Pixiepop!”

Dick looked aghast by the very suggestion, holding on to the grab handle for dear life. “I can’t believe you’re trying to convert me into a corrupt cop, Jay! Not to mention, it’s not the case of abusing power. It’s for safety!”

“Oh, come on, everyone in Gotham is corrupt! The foster system is so shitty the children are better off surviving in the streets than in some foster homes!” Jason snarked back, abruptly veering the steering wheel to the left, missing the motorcycle about to hit their vehicle by inches. 

In the back of the car, Damian grew more agitated by their argument, his worry for Marinette making him more prone to irritation and snapping at them. “Todd, your driving speed is inadequate. Marinette will have already been taken to a secondary location by the time we get there because of your tortoise driving speed.”

Jason gripped the steering wheel tighter, his knuckles turning white as he snarled, “Dickie here is telling me to tone it down, then there’s you, brat, demanding me to drive faster. I will do whatever the fucking hell I want, and neither of you get to decide.” 

To Dick’s dismay and horror, Jason sped up even more. They were well over past the speed limit at this point with Jason’s reckless driving, and they’ve already resisted arrestment twice in the span of five minutes. 

“You’re going to get us pulled over again. Not only will we have to get B to bail us out, but with us in jail, who’s going to rescue Sunshine?” Dick tried to reason, his face contorting into worry. 

Tim groaned from beside Damian, feeling dizzy from the argument and the three energy drinks he had chugged to wake himself up. He was on his fourth drink when Damian snatched the can away from him, promptly tossing it out the window and hitting the car driving past them with a clunk. 

“Hey!” Tim protested, hugging the duffle bag of energy drinks he had brought with him in a protective hold against his chest while shooting Damian a glare. 

Damian wrestled the bag away from his sleep-deprived brother and chucked it out the window as well, ignoring the “you don’t fucking toss objects out the window!” from the car next lane. 

“Is your goal to fill your bloodstream with energy drinks?” Damian asked drily, returning the glare. 

Before Tim could snark back, they were slammed into the back of their seats when Jason jabbed his foot on the brakes, narrowly stopping the vehicle from bumping into the car in front of them. 

Tim rubbed at his temple to soothe the throbbing headache manifested from the slam. “You drive like a maniac, Jason!” 

Jason pounded on the horn in frustration, growling out, “Fucking quit making comments about my driving habits! If you all want to lash out, do it on something else that’s not my driving habits!” 

Dick made an indignant noise from the back of his throat as the traffic light turned green once more. Jason sped off, not ceasing in his impulsive driving despite the barb comments. “You mean your unhealthy driving habits? This concerns our safety!” 

“Shouldn’t you, as a driver, make sure your passengers get to their destination safely? You could never be a bus driver. You’ll send your passengers into a heart attack before they can even make it to their stop!” Tim yelped as the car took a harsh turn like it was to tip over at any moment before it levelled once again. 

Damian, on the other hand, begged to differ. “If you imbeciles had not insisted on following me, I would have already made it to Marinette. Simply comparing Todd’s driving speed to a tortoise is an insult. Even tortoises are faster than him in this sense.” 

Jason ignored Dick and Damian’s comments. Instead, he looked offended by Tim’s comment. “Excuse you, I would make one hell of a bus driver. Whoever takes my bus will never be late to their destination with my speed. If we’re talking about doomed careers, you would never make it as an ice cream taster. You’ll end up falling asleep face-plant into the bucket of ice cream and die of hyperthermia!” 

Dick looked torn between wanting to laugh at Jason’s remark and keeping a serious expression while Damian scoffed, rolling his eyes. “I fail to see how ice cream tasters are relevant to the situation at hand.”

“I would never stoop so low to become an ice cream taster!” Tim protested, affronted by the prospect. 

Jason cursed, swivelling the vehicle before it could hit the poor pedestrian crossing the street. “Is there a fucking problem with becoming an ice cream taster? I happen to like Neapolitan ice cream, thank you very much!”

“Who said anything about Neapolitan ice cream? I could say I like coffee, and then you’ll accuse me of hating tea!” 

“That’s a terrible analogy, Timbers, because you do, in fact, hate tea. Saying you like coffee is a huge understatement. You would marry a drug dealer just ‘cause they offered to inject caffeine into your bloodstream so you could die in bliss!”

“This coming from someone who orders tea in a coffee shop!”

The argument was switching topics so ridiculously fast, giving Dick whiplash even as he was maybe a tiny bit entertained. 

“Is this even about doomed careers anymore?” Dick asked loudly.

He had spoken over Jason’s proclamation of, “At least I don’t go to a coffee shop that has popcorn ceiling, which, fyi, contains asbestos and, congratu-fucking-lations, I’m happy to inform you’ll die thirty years from now of lung cancer if an overdose of caffeine doesn’t kill you first.” 

Jason’s remark was immediately countered by Tim’s insult. “Says the guy who smokes ten packs of cigarettes a day and uses fluorescent lightbulbs in his room— which, for your information, contain mercury!” 

Dick’s interjection went ignored by the duo, now moving on to microwaves and guns. 

“You’re the one who keeps a fucking microwave in his room! Mind you, that monster of an appliance belongs in the kitchen, not the bedroom! You’ll die of radiation from the sheer proximity of it if there is a leak. The instructions clearly say to stand away from it while it’s cooking— “

“What’s wrong with keeping a microwave in my room!? You keep guns in your room, for god’s sake! Well, those abomination of machines belong in the shooting range. You’ll be thrashing around at night from your nightmares, knocking into the guns and shooting yourself in your sleep— !”

A dagger sailed through the cramped vehicle, cutting through the windshield and shattering the glass, halting the pair’s frivolous arguments. Raindrops were already splattering onto the dashboard and into the jeep from the damage. 

Curses tumbled out of Jason’s mouth, and he slammed on the brakes to glare at Damian, the obvious culprit of the assault. “Are you trying to get us killed by fratricide, Demon Spawn?” 

“You’re the fine one to talk about getting us killed. Talk about your non-existent driving habits,” Dick muttered, going back full circle to the original topic before the absurd argument between Jason and Tim took place. 

If Jason heard Dick’s muttering, he made no show of it, keeping his glare locked on Damian. 

Damian glared back. “I refuse to hear you cretins bicker about unpromising professions, dairy, beverages and other inane topics when Marinette is in danger!” 

Tim snorts, amused by his word choice. “I believe the scientific names for them are ‘doomed careers,’ ‘ice cream,’ ‘coffee,’ and— hey! These topics are far from stupid or silly!” 

Tim’s words fell upon deaf ears as Damian opened the door with an aggressive tug and moved to get out of the vehicle. 

“Hey! Where do you think you’re going, brat?” Jason asked, having not hit the lock on the control panel in his haze when he first got in and now regretting it. 

Dick mumbled under his breath, “I hope the car owner has insurance installed cause he’s unfortunately not getting the vehicle back in one piece.” 

Damian scowled. “Todd clearly can’t be trusted to drive. It’s a betrayal waiting to happen.”

Ignoring Jason’s comeback of, “Don’t be dramatic, this ain’t the medieval times. We’re not forbidden lovers on the battlefield of opposing kingdoms,” 

Despite the dramatic nature of Jason’s remark itself, Damian plowed on. “You and Drake may continue to have your philosophical argument about sleep paralysis or whatever preposterous topic is next. Don’t stop on my account.”

With that sarcastic remark, Damian slammed the vehicle door shut in a dramatic fashion, rushing toward the fabric shop Marinette liked to frequent a few feet away, with his adopted brothers quickly following suit. 

Seeing his beloved standing safe and sound with her phone clutched in hand, Damian felt like he could breathe again. 

When he was close enough, he pulled her into his arms, ignoring how he was practically soaked from the rain. Scolding words were already falling from his lips. “Don’t scare me like that ever again!” 

Marinette, to her credit, looked sheepish, her hands resting on his shoulders, not minding his soaked nature. “Sorry, Dami. I called you to pick me up because it was raining and I forgot to bring an umbrella. My phone ran out of battery before I could finish the explanation. I really didn’t mean to scare you.” 

Her eyes widened in surprise when she saw the rest of his siblings coming to a stop behind him, taking cover under the eaves with them. “You all dropped what you were doing to come all this way for me? How did you even get here so fast?”

Damian pulled away from the hug, taking her hand as his brothers went on a tirade of explanations.

“Several traffic violations due to Jaybird’s reckless driving habits,” Dick huffed, looking at Jason in disapproval. 

In contrast, Jason looked proud as he announced, “We resisted arrestment twice!” 

“Four cans of energy drinks before my duffle bag of drinks was tossed overboard to the wolves by my own brother,” Tim whined out, now having the time to mourn for his lost drinks.

Meanwhile, Marinette was looking more stressed by the minute. 

“I should also mention that,” Damian added, pointing to the black jeep in the distance, “this is not our car. Dick knocked someone out, and we hijacked their vehicle. The windshield is also now shattered.” 

Jason said in a staged whisper, “The windshield is Demon Spawn’s fault. He decided to assault it with his dagger.” 

Marinette shook her head, exasperated and concerned by their antics. “You guys are not allowed to drive unsupervised ever again.”

[mamisfavmosher]

Can you write bloodline!reader x jd poly where after she felt hurt by Roman's manipulation she joins the judgment day after damians cash in and kiss reader on the ring

Thanks for the request!

manipulation kills // poly!judgment day x fem!bloodline! reader

I was filled with anger and rage. The harrowing realization had immediately hit me after one of Roman's lies backfired. He had made some weak excuse and thought he covered his trail. The flame burned high within me, though. I was humiliated and had been dragged along -- lied to in front of millions of people. Led on to believe that I was doing the right thing.

I was still conflicted as I watched the match play out in front of me. Roman had been set to fight against Jey Uso tonight. There had been a dispute within the Bloodline and they decided they would settle it with a title match for the WWE Championship, the winner taking the score. Watching from ringside, I was discreetly cheering for Jey, but this won't necessarily end well either way. They had been butting heads for weeks now, and as a member myself, I knew that a fight with Roman was never a fight to be won.

Jey and Roman had both been able to pin each other a few times, but never long enough to take the win. They were fighting with everything in their beings and it showed. I could see the frustration in their faces, the tension between them coming out in the form of kicks, slaps, and cheap shots. The crowd was enjoying the back and forth energy, but all I could feel was a sense of disgust. The feeling of betrayal had crept up on me throughout the match as I observed Roman, our so-called "tribal chief", attempt to beat down his cousin.

I didn't know how much longer I would be able to put up with this. All the lies and misunderstandings that only lead to anger and disputes within the crumbling faction. It would only be a matter of time before Roman turned on me directly.

Unless I did it first.

I looked on as Jey powerfully attacked Roman, the bigger man landing on the ring mat with a loud thud. All of a sudden, like a flash of lightning, Damian Priest was running toward the announce desk. He practically threw his Money in the Bank briefcase down onto the desk, shouting at the ref to make sure he knew what was happening. Priest slid into the ring and easily took Jey out, knocking him to the ring side. He waited for Roman to stand back up and performed a Southside of Heaven on him, pinning him for the win.

The crowd cheered and booed in absolute shock, the arena filled with an air of utmost surprise. More screams erupted as the rest of the Judgment Day appeared in the ring beside Damian Priest, holding his arms up in victory. The ref bestowed to him the WWE Championship, the four gothic members holding it high above their heads.

Unbeknownst to me, Rhea Ripley had noticed my shocked state, still standing in ring side, but not moving to check on Jey or the tribal chief. She had motioned for a microphone and yanked it into her grasp.

"The Judgment Day runs all of WWE!" She shouted into the arena. "We are the most dominant faction here and no one can stop us. Not even the Bloodline." Her words ignited the energy of the fans. "You see..." Rhea hopped out of ring and made her way over to me. "The Bloodline not only lost their tribal chief champion tonight, but they just lost another member." She quickly grabbed my hand and helped me onto the ring, pulling me to stand next to the other members of the dark group.

Behind the scenes of the whole show, I had been getting to the know the Judgment Day members in my free time away from Roman and the boys. They were all incredible people, and not to mention, part of the reason I realized Roman was manipulating the Bloodline to bend to his will. They pointed out all the signs to me, helped me sort out my feelings, and aided in the harsh realization of what was happening. It didn't make it any easier, though.

The Bloodline had acted as family figures for me as I worked my way through the industry, struggling to grasp at improvement. They took me in and taught me everything I know. Roman himself had taught me to be aware, and maybe he taught me too well. As time progressed within the faction, we all grew irritated with the way the tribal chief was treating us, but we knew there wasn't really a way to fight it. That's when Jey started taking a stance. The Judgment Day acted as a protective barrier around me, defending me from any of Roman's backlash. This only caused him to be wary of my relationship with them.

I was taken from my thoughts as I saw Roman being handed a microphone of his own. This won't be good.

"What are you talking about?! The Bloodline is strong and we aren't losing any members tonight." Roman was angry, everyone could tell.

"Man, could you be more delusional?" Damian laughed out. "Look around you! You caused this!" He gestured to the Usos watching from ringside and Solo Sikoa pacing back and forth on the ramp. "You've been a terrible leader. Nothing to be ashamed about," Priest snickered as he shrugged his shoulders. "Not everyone is leader material. But, unfortunately for you, we are taking a member from you tonight. Whether you like it or not, man." He slung an arm around my shoulders and protectively pulled me into his side.

"That's right! She's the Judgment Day's girl now!" Rhea exclaimed, shooing her hand at Roman who was fuming across the ring.

"And we suggest that you stay away from her or we'll make sure you never see her again." Finn threatened, slightly standing in front of me to block Roman's view.

"Yeah! Better watch out! She's ours now!" Dom smiled and ruffled my hair before raising Damian's hand with the championship belt. The crowd erupted into loud cheers as Roman backed away up the entrance ramp.

Damian looked down at me lovingly. "Welcome to the Judgment Day, babygirl." He smirked at me before gripping my jaw and pulling me into a sweet kiss. The crowd screamed even louder at the display of affection from the new champion. The rest of the group surrounded us, each of them welcoming me into the group with kisses and hugs. I happily laughed as Damian hoisted me onto his back, carrying me up the ramp to the backstage area.

I already felt more appreciated and loved in this little family than I ever did in the Bloodline. Roman never would have defended me and pulled me to safety the way the Judgment Day did. And within this group, I found a new home.

[lexa-ocean]

Oooo tell me your Dook sibling names!!! /nf

With pleasure!!! I'll also drop in some quick info abt them

(Also fyi, most of them actually appear in this fic of mine, if ur interested!!)

From oldest to youngest:

Daniela: The Eldest, she was always incredible smart for her age (some might even say gifted) and took her studies seriously. Her siblings (the ones that remember her, anyway) will tell you she was bossy growing up, but mellowed out during her teenage years. In reality, she was dealing with a big case of Eldest Daughter Syndrome, before a burn out led her to stop giving much of a damn about her siblings, focusing all her energy in school instead. Her efforts paid off, as she got a full scholarship to a very great university. She's currently a lawyer, makes good money, sends some to her parents. Calls them sometimes. She communicates with her siblings less than with their parents, which is to say not at all.

Dingo: You know him, you love him!! Dingo 'Starr' LaRue became well known as the drummer of the Wolf Pack 5, which is fortunate since (in sharp contrast with his sister) he never did well in school. He started being interested in music and specifically drumming early on, something he tried to share with his family, yet the only one who got as interested as him was Dook. This led to him having an obvious favorite sibling, altho no one really cared much as the only thing he talked about is music anyways. With the Wolf Pack breaking up and Dook taking up as the drummer in their succesor band, Dingo took a chance and moved to London to pursue bigger opportunities. He makes definately less money than Dani, but still sends what he can to his parents. He also keeps in contact with his siblings, especially Dook.

Dook: The other family musician, Dook is currently the oldest of his siblings still in town. Even tho he no longer lives at home, he still sees his family regularly, especially since his youngest siblings like to go hang out at Showbiz. They all also flex their status of having their brother in the band as much as they can, much to Dook's chagrin. While he used to be pretty much a copy of Dingo, he's really come into his own since joining the band, especially when he decided to be more outspoken about his lifelong space obsession.

Damian: Fun fact: Did you know that siblings born within a year of each other are usually called Irish twins? Well, that's what Dook and Damian are! With only a measly 10-month difference between them, Dook and Damian were attached at the hip growing up. As a matter of fact, they're BOTH obsessed with space, something that definetely has nothing to do with the cartoons they watched as kids. They started to grow differences in their personal likes and dislikes as they grew up, but they both know they have each other when it really matters. Like for example, whenever Dook needed help with his homework, since Damian just so happened to be pretty smart and good at school (tho not at Dani's level). Damian is currently a nurse, and a pretty good one that gets more than a few calls when someone in the family is hurt. Although he denies it, he too flexes his status as Dook's brothers, mostly when dealing with scared children getting their shots. (If he has to lie a bit about how brave Dook was when getting his own as a kid, well no one has to know)

Dilan and Dina: You've heard of Irish twins, now get ready for actual twins! Dina and Dilan were unexpected, but still pretty much loved. Much like Dook and Damian, they were inseparable growing up, before slowly starting to break apart as they entered teenagehood. A first in their family, they're neither academically nor musically inclined, instead being aced at sports, with Dina as captain of the school's volleyball team, Dilan as the school's soccer team main scorer, and BOTH as the MVPs of the track team. These two are going places!

Dexter: A very sweet kid, most ppl wouldn't guess that thanks to his aloof nature, all-black clothing, and emo fringe. The quietest of a very loud family, at first glance he might seem like the black sheep, but he's actually very loved by them all, and he loves them in return. It might seem like he's not really interested in anything but begging his parents to let him get some piercings (not until he's 18), but he actually loves music!! ...Just, he happens to be more inclined towards the keyboard than drums, which might or might not make him nervous about bringing it up. So far, his shyness only really allows him to go to Showbiz to stare at the Tune Machine and give Fatz a few scares, but one of these days he's gonna work up the courage to ask him for lessons! ...Someday soon! ...Maybe!

Diana: And now we've come to the baby of the bunch! Despite still being a toddler, Diana is a little spitfire who learned to talk pretty early on, and talk she does, about everything! The weather, her toys, her family, what she sees in TV, that one crack on the wall... she never stops! It might get annoying some times, but one look at her puppy eyes has everyone listening with rapt attention.

And that would be all, thanks so much for the ask!!!

[james5-doe]

Chapter 28

I've posted Chapter 28 here, in case it doesn't appear on Fanfiction.net.

"I Know"

Earth B

"Duffy got a reading from Dimension P. She felt great distress in the Gordons there." Mandrake quivered, taking a breath. He hoped that nobody was terribly hurt — especially since it was all his fault.

"Dimension P..." Amy stated. "Isn't that the place where you banished Mom?"

He'd dreaded this discussion for most of the day, knowing how his daughter was going to react. "I thought I had managed to remove her power." He stroked his brow. "Now it appears I was wrong about that."

She glanced to the side, clearly distraught. "What is she doing?" she asked with a scowl.

"She's trying to conquer Earth P, it seems." He felt a deep shame. "I should have known to handle things differently."

"By that you mean that you should've killed her."

He flinched a little. What triggered that? "No," he muttered, clearing his throat. "I meant that I shouldn't have left her there." He paused to study the lovely girl, a child on the cusp of womanhood. Most people found her adorable, and there was no question of that right now. She wore a tank top over thin black pants, her hair bundled into a small half-up. She was the picture of cuteness and beauty — but there was something grimmer lurking deep within.

He had been searching for the cause of that. Most signs pointed to childhood. Amy was brought up without Cathleen. It seemed this salvation was also a vice. Her mother's absence was good for her, but it had created resentment too, an anger that Amy still fought to control.

Was she still resenting her father as well?

"I have to make it into Dimension P," Mandrake declared. "The portal will open in around two hours."

"That's kind of convenient," she said with suspicion.

"It actually isn't. Not at all. I'm afraid I know Cathleen quite well. She's hoping that I'll learn about what she's done, so she can try luring me there for revenge."

--------

Two Hours Later

Just as he was heading toward a small spacecraft, Amy caught up and grabbed ahold of his arm.

"Remember your rule," she said with a grin. "Never take off before a drink of tea."

He chuckled a little, still feeling unhinged, then downed the small cup that she'd offered him.

Amy stared — quietly.

A few seconds later, he started to quiver. "What was in that?" he asked as he shook. The cup hit the floor. He did too.

"I can't let you go and confront that woman, not with the grudge that she has against you." Amy started moving toward the jet herself. "I'll do this."

He reached for her, too far away. Everything around him began to grow dark.

------

Earth P

Amy made her landing in a shady canyon. The area was fully devoid of life.

She felt her lips parting as she looked about. It was hard to fathom what had just occurred. She had made the journey to an alternate world, in a whole different reality.

There was little time to be stunned, however. She could sense now that she wasn't alone.

She opened the cockpit, and stepped outside.

"I noticed your presence several minutes ago."

Amy turned around toward the sound of the voice.

Her mother was there, covered in gold, her outfit not unlike Damian Dark's. "If Mandrake had come, I'd drag this out. With you, dear child, I'll make it quick. Then I'll rear you as you should have been reared." She launched a gold beam straight out of her hand.

Feeling no level of fear at all, Amy raised a palm, halting the shot, blocking it telekinetically. She whisked the projectile behind her back.

Gritting her teeth, Cathleen unleashed an assault with both hands.

Amy responded with each hand too, using twin shields to stop the attack.

The energy burrowed continuously, threatening to break her defenses down.

Amy started shaking. Her heels slid back.

Finally, the assault got through, knocking her down as it struck her waist. The blast sent a jolt all throughout her frame, maybe the hardest she'd ever felt.

Amy twitched a little, struggling to rise. It was clear her mom had increased her strength. She couldn't stand another impact like that.

Cathleen fired, wasting no time, shooting with both of her hands again.

Lifting her palms, Amy summoned all of the might she had, whipping the beams in an upward arch, and hurling them directly behind Cathleen. The shots hit a mountain. Boulders fell.

Cathleen managed to rush aside, dodging the rubble as it struck the ground. She looked surprised as the boulders rose, hanging in the air for a couple of seconds, before they went following after her.

She stared in shock.

The rubble hit, flooring Cathleen as it fell aside.

Amy rushed up, mounting her, pinning her arms to the ground as she spoke. "Look into my eyes," Amy said, summoning a spell as their gazes met. "Look into my eyes, and listen to me."

------

Earth B

Amy brought the jet down in Monitor.

"I was just about to come after you!" Mandrake uttered as he neared the craft. "What happened over there?"

She studied her father, taking a breath, relieved to see that he'd recovered well. It wasn't a particularly powerful drug. "That world is saved, for now anyway," Amy replied upon leaving the plane.

"...What did you do?" He looked unsettled.

"I made my birth mother forget who she is. She'll start a new life, meet new people..." She shook her head. "Maybe she'll even have another kid. Maybe she'll get things right next time."

Mandrake stared, absorbing that. It took a little while for him to find his voice. "Amy," he muttered, "if I had known about you when you were a child...I would've done my very best to get things right."

She held his gaze. "I know," she uttered, pulling him close.

He began wrapping his arms around her.

"I know," she said.

[skelly3d]

Chapter 1

In a dimly lit corridor þat seemed to continue on to þe point of infinity, red lights lined þe corridor providing a faint glimpse of þe surrounding walls and launch track. A countdown timer had appeared on his head-up display showing a countdown till launch start, not þat he needed it. 2m 30s till launch, 30s from here to þe end of þe launch tube.

3m till þe distress signal.

Þe tunnel suddenly had an end in sight with blues, red and gold flashing up þe tunnel, screeching towards þe pilot.

1m till launch.

Þe lights showed him how close he was to þe battle. He did a quick systems check and a test of þe engines. þis time would be different.

20s till launch.

It had to be different. Once launch was established, he would have to make it to þe battle area wið in 30s.

5.

Þe pilot's adrenaline started to spike. þis was it, þe start of combat. A calm before a storm whirled in chaos. He had run þis simulation far too many times before.

L A U N C H

Þe pilot slammed þe accelerator forward causing þe entire ship to rock violently and pull forwards forcing him into his chair. Þe sled þat sat underneað his ship shot forwards, grabbing his ship and increasing its speed 3 fold, propelling him towards þe exit. Þe red glow from þe small tunnel lights seemed to increase in intensity and flickered on and off, faster and faster until þey reached an equal point, lighting þe pilot's cabin up wið a red glow.

5s was all it took to clear þe launch tube, he would have to keep þe accelerator pushed to maximum and redirect þe sheild power to his þrusters. He knew þat if he let off for even a second he wouldn't make it. Þe last time he tried he got close and tried to fire off several stinger missiles but þey weren't fast enough and Damien was run through. Some of þe worst enemies for a pilot to face were spear drones. Incredible long range fighters using a single charged shot weapon. Þey could charge you down and with terrifying speeds, pierce straight þrough you wið þeir hard light shields. One would have to know where þey were coming from in order to focus all shield energy in þat one point to have any hope of surviving.

Þis time felt different, þis time he could do it. All he had to do was get to him fast enough and he could be þe shield. He had to know it was possible. Þe pilot switched to L A N C E M O D E. His ship's wings flew forwards, slamming into þe sides of his ship. Hard light shields shifted towards þe front of þe ship forming into a lethal point þat could pierce þrough even þe toughest of cruisers. By removing all shields from þe rear of þe ship and pushing þat energy into þe ship's þrusters, he gained a tremendous boost in speed at þe loss of defence and maneuverability.

Þe difficulty came in at 2m when Damian took it upon himself to move þe battle furðer away from þe civilian vessel he was protecting. He had figured þat he could still take þem all and þat þe ship heading towards him was there to back up þe civilian and merely to rescue him. A well placed shot from one of þe drones knocked out all of his coms and had left him in þe dark.

Þe pilot knew what was coming and pushed against þe already locked out accelerator, muttering under his breað, it was now or never. He flicked a small red cover switch on his right hand side and engaged L A N C E M O D E U L T I M A.

He was slammed into his seat and felt a sharp pain burst þrough þe nape of his neck as his neural link connected him to his ship. Now þe real flying could begin.

Þe neural link allowed for humanity to better interact wið machines. Raðer þan leaving it to AI to perform perfectly calculated actions, þey gave humans þe ability to perform perfectly uncalculated actions. þe human instinct and spirit turned out far superior to þæt which calculates. Making þe machines an extension of oneself was not an easy task. Most pilots pass out wiðin þe first few seconds of þis mergance and even after five years of academy training, þe best can only hold it together for 30 seconds. Þe toll it takes on þe human body, some have argued, is why AI should take over þis roll but time and time again þe chaos of man's actions proves unsurpassable.

Þe pilot would feel everyðing at a higher level. A single twitch or misðought could þrow him off. He needed speed and so he removed þe fuel injector limiters and redirected more power to þe engines and þe lance's shield. One of þe drones had got in þe way and was immediately shattered by þe ship's hardlight lance. þis meant he was close now. Þe ultima mode was wearing on him and he could feel his consciousness fading.

Þere it was, þe civilian vessel was in sight and so was Damian's ship. He did it þis time, he really did it he knew it was possible to have got here in time. þe pilot released ultima mode and þe ship dropped out of its high speed and engaged its reverse stabilising þrust, helping to bring its velocity down. þe wings which had been spun to þe front had slammed back to þeir combat position and its shields had returned to a normal state. þere was a wave of relief þæt washed over his body. He felt like he could æþm again. He set his eyes on drones þæt were still about ready to engage þem. Even þough he felt exhausted, þe ultima mode really drained him but he had no time to sit about and recover, þere was still one more þing to happen. It was still coming. He started to bring þe ship around to target one of þe drones when it started. It had arrived.

He checked þe mission clock and realised þæt he was out of time. þis caused þe panic to set in, he was out of time again. He wasn't fast enough again. No matter how many times he repeated this mission, he could never be fast enough. After all, he wasn't fast enough in real life when þe sim was first recorded.

Þe niose was inhuman and unanamalistic. It was þe scratching of metal and hate, þe screaching of gears and abandonment, þe wailing of old machinery and loss. It was þe end of everything þæt got in its way. It could devour whole fleets like a snack, planets like a meal fed to a starving dog and moons like dessert to a pompous king. It was glutinous, it was unbridled indignation, it was nightmare incarnate.

It was simply titled Jörmungandr, þe World Eater.

[imaginingmarvelandeverything]

There’d Better Be a Mirrorball

Pairing: Dick Grayson (version unspecified) x F!Reader

Warnings: angst, break up

Word Count: 1371

A/N: Here’s the Dick Grayson angst I mentioned! It’s based on There’d Better Be a Mirrorball by Arctic Monkeys and is the result of spending too much time on trains while in Italy. This isn’t based on any particular version of Dick’s character, so ignore the gif. Anyway, I don’t think I’ll ever do a part 2, but I hope you like it!!

(thanks to @yanna-banana and @stargirl25 for initially showing interest in this!)

Masterlist

Ko-Fi

Dick pushed down the aching in his chest and downed the shot of whiskey the bartender passed him. He let himself face the bar for another minute, taking in his haggard appearance in the mirror behind the rows and rows of high end spirits. The people surrounding the bar were either too drunk or too preoccupied with the people around them to pay any attention to Bruce Wayne’s oldest son. For once, he was glad. He needed another minute before he re-joined the dancing crowd.

When he couldn’t put it off any longer, he rolled his shoulders and perfected his smile in the mirror before turning and walking back into the mass of people. He had absolutely no idea what this particular fundraiser was for, only that Bruce needed a show of familiar support for the night. And as much as his heart was breaking, he couldn’t find it in him to say no to family.

She’ll be packing the last of her bags now.

He shook his head and sucked in a deep breath, willing himself to only focus on the present and not let his emotions consume him. He could do this.

“I’m surprised you showed up. Thought you’d be drowning yourself in a bottle of Shiraz, eating Chinese and watching About Time right now.”

He spun around to find Jason watching him with a raised eyebrow. His white streak was hidden beneath box dye and he was wearing an impeccable suit and tie, but even though he had technically been resurrected medically and legally now, Dick was still surprised to find him willingly attending a gala.

“What’re you doing here?”

“Geez, no need to sound so surprised.” Jason rolled his eyes and stepped forward, his voice dropping to almost a whisper. “Babs told me, I thought… I thought you might need someone who could help you tap out, if you needed to leave.”

Dick screwed his eyes shut and focused on breathing. “I’m fine.”

“Sure. But if you find you aren’t, I’m around.” Jason gave a stiff nod once Dick had forced his eyes open again.

Dick returned it. “Thanks. Do you actually know what this thing is for?”

“Haven’t a clue.” Jason snorted, and just for a moment, all Dick could see was the twelve year old who had clung to him the entire night of his first gala. Dick had hated it with a passion, wanted nothing more than to pass Jason off on someone, but now he wouldn’t change it for the world. Funny how ten years made that much of a difference.

“We the only two here?” Dick scanned his eyes over the room.

“Us and Damian, who looks even happier to be here than you do.” Jason looked thoroughly pleased at that prospect but Dick didn’t have the energy to tell him off.

So, instead he just hummed. Jason frowned slightly, clearly picking up on Dick’s emotions.

“I thought you’d be with her.” Jason said softly.

“We agreed it was better if I wasn’t; less fuss and all that. We said goodbye yesterday.” Tears burned his eyes again and he dug his teeth into his cheek to try and stop them falling. He focused his eyes on the Mirrorball, watching the reflected light dance across the ceiling. He didn’t really understand why a gala would have one, but he wasn’t complaining. They always reminded him of the circus.

He stayed staring at the glittering reflections for a while, barely noticing Jason’s presence, until the second Robin choked on his champagne.

“Holy fuck.” Jason spluttered, staring past him.

He glanced over his shoulder and felt his heart freeze in his chest. He was convinced he had been dosed with something; fear toxin or something of Ivy’s because there was no way she could be here. She had a fight to catch in four hours for Christ’s sake! No, this couldn’t be happening.

But Jason was clearly seeing exactly what he was.

“Dickie, what the hell are you waiting for?” Jason shoved his shoulder.

That was all the prompt he needed, and before he even knew what he was doing, his feet were carrying him towards the entrance to the ball room. Towards her.

“You have a plane to catch.” Dick choked out.

“I have a little time to spare.” Y/N said it so nonchalantly, like they were talking about the weather.

“Y/N-”

“One last night.” She cut him off. “I couldn’t just go. I couldn’t.”

He nodded and stepped forward, cupping her face with one of her hands as his other wrapped around her waist and pulled her against him. She rested her forehead against his and wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers tangling into the hair at the base of his neck.

“Dance with me?” He whispered.

She smiled. “Always.”

He tugged her out into the middle of the dancefloor, keeping his arms wrapped around her waist and hers around his neck, even though the music was too fast to be dancing like that. But neither of them cared.

“How long?” He asked, tears burning his lash lines.

“Half an hour. I already ordered a car.” She brushed a thumb along his cheek as a tear slipped out. “Don’t cry. If you cry, I’ll cry and then we will make the front page tomorrow.” She smiled and he chuckled wetly. “I’m sorry for coming here. I know we said we wouldn’t, but I just couldn’t leave without seeing you one last time.”

“Don’t apologise. I think Jason was about ten minutes away from calling me a cab to meet you at the airport because he couldn’t stand my moping.” He said, smiling as she laughed.

“Okay, enough moping for now then. We have thirty minutes and I just want to spend them with you.” She pressed her head against the side of his as he somehow managed to pull her closer.

“Okay.” He agreed.

The music changed to something slower, something that was in time with the way they were swaying, and he had a feeling it was Jason’s doing. He made a mental reminder to thank him later and then made himself focus on the present. On keeping Y/N pressed against him for what might be the last time as the Mirrorball bathed them in glittering light.

But all too soon he felt the tell tale sign of the alarm of her watch buzzing against his neck. He took a deep breath as she pressed closer against him for a moment before pulling back slightly. There were tears in her eyes and he wasn’t sure he was faring much better. She didn’t have say anything, the question was in her eyes and he nodded in response, taking her hand in his and leading her through the crowd to the main door.

The cold air did nothing to alleviate the heaviness in his heart as they got closer and closer to the inevitable.

“That’s the car.” She said, barely above a whisper as she nodded towards a silver Honda.

He nodded and pulled her against him again, pressing his lips to her temple. “I love you. I’ll always love you. You know where I’ll be if you ever need anything.”

“I love you too.” She smiled and cupped his face in her hands before pulling his lips to hers. She kissed him softly, neither of them bothered by the saltiness brought on by their tears. “You know where I’ll be if you ever need to get away, or decide you don’t need Nightwing anymore.”

He nodded and kissed her again. “Goodbye, Y/N.”

“Goodbye, Dickie.” She pressed one more chaste kiss to his lips and walked away. She looked back once more before she got in the car and the both understood what the other wanted to say.

And then she was gone.

He took several deep breaths and wiped at his face to clear his tears before turning and walking back inside. He caught Jason’s eyes across the room and the younger man held up two glasses of an amber liquid. He smiled slightly at that, as his eyes drifted up to the Mirrorball again. Maybe there were some perks to staying where he was.

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

This Game of Yours

Father of Mine – Part 1 and Part 2

Jason was beautiful.

And somehow that scar that went from the right corner of his mouth up to his temple only made him that much more beautiful to Y/N.

Those blue eyes were the same color of water on a stormy day in the Irish sea. And somehow Y/N knew they held the same tempestuousness.

The white streak weaved with his jet black hair so naturally that Y/N would’ve believed he was born with it.

His shoulders were so broad, making his 6’3 height feel even more imposing. He had a presence. People noticed every time he walked into a room. It made Y/N wonder how he was ever able to sneak up on people as Red Hood.

He was wearing a black hoodie underneath his black moto jacket.

Y/N knew Jason didn’t give a shit about fashion. Yet he was well-dressed without any effort – more so than most of the models Y/N had shot throughout her career.

Not being able to control herself any longer, Y/N raised her camera and took a photo.

Jason stopped surveying their surroundings and his gaze snapped to her.

“What do you think you’re doing?” 

But his growl didn’t scare her in the slightest.

“Anyone who’s by me when I have a camera is at risk of getting their picture taken. No one is safe. Not even you,” she answered his question unapologetically.

Y/N was working on a personal passion project for her next show. Her collection would be about the poverty and crime of Gotham. Half of the photos would show the heaviest crime areas of the city. And the other half would expose the lifestyles of the wealthiest people in Gotham.

Why did so many suffer from the same system that helped the rich get even richer?

When Bruce found out Y/N was going to Crime Alley and the Bowery by herself, he was visibly upset.

But he realized that Y/N would do as she pleased, so his plan b was to give her protective detail.

However, Y/N didn’t know that Jason had volunteered, almost immediately.

Instead, all she heard was Jason grimly telling her, “You’re lucky you haven’t been fucking murdered yet.”

She had only responded with a roll of her eyes.

“I’m not your escort so you can take my picture. I’m here so you don’t get raped or murdered.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you have a way with words?”

His only response was a glare.

Jason loved playing this game. The game of pretending to be irritated with her when actually he was absolutely infatuated with Y/F/N Y/L/N.

“The easiest way to stop getting your picture taken is to always be the one holding the camera,” Y/N added with a smirk and wink.

Jason didn’t answer, only thinking what a shame it was that no one got to photograph her.

Suddenly, the sunlight hit the top of his head perfectly, creating a halo around that thick and messy hair of his.

Y/N snapped another photo.

“Will you stop?” He warned.

It only succeeded in making her laugh.

And that just excited his heart even more.

“Jason, you were born to get your photo taken.” 

There was no joke underneath her words, only sincerity.

“Whatever,” he mumbled.

Jason had a hard time believing that. His skin was riddled with scars. And he was convinced that she’d be singing a different song if she saw his chest, with its thick autopsy scar amongst the so many others. The absolute last word he’d use to describe himself was beautiful. Strong and imposing? Yes. But never beautiful – or any other positive adjective, for that matter.

“I’m not kidding. If you ever want to stop the whole vigilante thing, you can easily become a model.”

Y/N had noticed it as soon as Jason took of his helmet that night. His domino mask had done nothing to prevent her from noting the obvious.

It didn’t take long for Y/N to realize Jason wasn’t like his “brothers.”

“Brothers.” What a strange word.

Should she consider all of them as hers?

Only Damian was actually related to her – and technically he was only her half-brother.

Y/N had watched Jason get on his motorcycle and leave the cave that night she’d almost died.

She’d agreed to stay for dinner and get to know everyone. And a part of her brain was excited to get a better read on the masked man that sat by her bedside as she’d recovered.

“He’s not staying?” Y/N had asked Bruce as he guided her to the stairs that led back up to the manor.

He only shook his head, but she noticed the disappointed expression.

Soon she found out that Jason was the black sheep of this strange family that had taken her in.

Dick was the one who told her about Jason’s dark past. All of it seemed unbelievable: murdered by Joker and brought back to life from a mysterious pit. Only to return to the family who appeared to have replaced him and never sought vengeance on Jason’s behalf. 

But it was true; Y/N had seen no lie in Dick’s eyes when he filled her in.

Suddenly there was yelling coming from around the corner.

Without hesitation, Jason shoved Y/N behind him.

He reached for one of his guns and then realized that he didn’t have any.

Y/N was rather vocal about hating them, claiming they made her extremely uncomfortable.

Her expression alone as she said it was enough for Jason to swallow his stubbornness and leave the things at home.

Bruce was rather taken aback by the gesture. Nothing he’d ever said was enough to get Jason to do that.

A gang of young men came marching around the corner like they owned the place…because they did. This was their territory.

Jason immediately recognized them as some of the Russian mob.

Despite pulling Y/N behind him, they still caught sight of her and looked her up and down without an ounce of shame.

“Hey, beautiful. How you doing?”

“Продолжай идти, придурки,” Jason growled at them.

He was outnumbered. But there must’ve been something about his body language that made the gang realize they shouldn’t pick a fight with him. Maybe it was the muscles or his height or that he looked like he wouldn’t even blink before murdering them.

So they just…walked away. Some of them mumbled threats or insults at him. But they realized they shouldn’t even so much as look at Y/N.

A split second before they were gone, Y/N took a picture of Jason.

“Really?” He asked.

She shrugged. “You look like a different person when you’re protective.”

Y/N was beautiful.

Jason watched as she passionately explained her work to a potential buyer.

He recognized the man as a local politician – luckily, one of the few that hadn’t been corrupted from this shitty city.

Y/N had the intimidating energy of her father, but the kind eyes of her mother. At least, that was what Bruce had told everyone, and they all took his word for it.

She wore a stylish white jumpsuit that made her look like a 1980s villain and black stiletto heels. 

Jason watched as men cowered in her presence, hating the fact that she proudly stood taller than them. She was just one less woman they could intimidate or manipulate – and they couldn’t stand it.

But Jason loved watching the emasculation in real time.

The bastards didn’t deserve her anyway.

Dick was one of the very few men Jason knew who didn’t blink at a woman towering over him. In fact, his older brother had a track record of preferring it.

“Surprised to see you here,” Bruce said beside him, catching Jason watching Y/N.

“Well, I was her personal bodyguard through all this. Figured I should see if it was worth me wasting my time or not.” Then he tossed back his champagne and slammed it on the tray of a waiter passing by. “Plus, free alcohol.”

Bruce just quirked an eyebrow, silently telling Jason that he knew he was lying.

“Are you buying something?” Jason asked, trying to change the subject.

“I have been strictly forbidden,” Bruce sighed.

Jason chuckled.

He knew if Bruce had his way, he’d buy every single on of Y/N’s pieces.

“I have to know,” Bruce began. “What exactly is holding you back?”

Jason finally ripped his gaze away from Y/N to give Bruce a questioning look.

“What are you talking about?”

“Y/N. You care about her.”

“All of us do,” Jason brushed off. “Even the demon spawn.”

Bruce knew there wasn’t a chance Jason would admit his feelings – especially to him.

“Not that I think you care…but you have my approval.”

Little did Bruce know, Jason did care.

Jason had convinced himself that their rocky relationship and past fights meant that Bruce would die before he let Jason be anywhere near his daughter.

And Jason could hardly blame him.

He didn’t deserve to be loved. He lost that right after he died and came back a monster. And that was the story Jason told himself over and over again.

So he would love Y/N from afar. And hope she would pick someone who was worthy of her love.

“She’s basically my sister,” Jason groaned in fake disgust.

It was quite the performance.

Bruce narrowed his eyes. “We both know that isn’t what’s stopping you. And you’ve made it clear you don’t consider us your family.”

“Whatever, Bruce.”

Jason walked away, having enough of the subject.

“What was that about?” Clark asked as he joined Bruce’s side.

“Jason refusing to let himself be happy,” Bruce sighed.

Clark already knew what Bruce was talking about. He’d seen Y/N and Jason dancing around each other for months now. He’d never really seen Y/N take an interest in anyone before, so it was all new for Clark.

“Don’t worry. Y/N won’t let him get away with it for much longer,” Clark said through a smirk. “She gets what she wants.”

And Bruce believed him.

“It doesn’t bother you – the two of them together?” Clark asked with genuine curiosity.

“Jason reminds me every day that I’m not his father. And I’m hardly Y/N’s.” A soft smile formed on Bruce’s lips. “He’ll look after her. And she…I think she’d be good for him. I just want them to be happy. Both of them.”

——

Jason headed home rather early.

He’d never actually went to say congratulations or even hello to Y/N.

Every time he was about to go over, someone else stole her attention. He didn’t want to get in the way of her talking to potential buyers or even just friends.

Jason was just about to make himself something to eat when there was a knock at his door.

He froze.

Very few people knew where his apartment was.

Jason grabbed a gun and tiptoed to his front door.

With a peak through the peephole, he let out a irritated sigh.

Jason whipped the door open, “You’re lucky I didn’t shoot your head off.”

“Maybe don’t own guns and you wouldn’t have to worry about shit like that,” Y/N snapped back.

“What are you doing here?”

“You come to my gallery opening and don’t even say hi?” Y/N accused as she stepped around him and into the apartment, not waiting for an invitation.

Jason eyed the paper bag that was in one of her hands.

“By all means, come on in,” he called sarcastically as he slammed the door behind her.

Y/N started searching through his cabinets. “Where are your glasses?”

“The one to your right. What are you doing here?”

Y/N had the brightest and almost mischievous smile as she pulled a bottle of champagne from the paper bag.

“I brought this as my thanks for you making sure I don’t – and I quote – ‘get raped and murdered.’”

Jason glared at her.

Here was the game again.

Y/N being charming and hilariously provoking..and Jason pretending like he hadn’t fallen for her.

She poured them both a glass. They weren’t flutes or coupes, but she couldn’t care less.

“We’re chugging these, by the way,” Y/N informed Jason as she handed him a glass.

He sighed, but obediently clinked his glass with hers and tossed it back.

Barely giving them a second, Y/N immediately refilled them.

“So, why didn’t you come over and say hi?” She repeated.

“Didn’t want to bother you,” Jason mumbled with a shrug.

She narrowed her eyes at his answer. “You’ve never bothered me before, Jason.”

Now he felt guilty.

Jason bowed his head. “I should’ve come and talked to you,” he agreed. “Your work…it looked – it’s amazing, Y/N. Congratulations.”

Apparently Y/N hadn’t expected such a sincere compliment from him, and she was stunned to silence.

“Thank you,” she managed to whisper once she’d recovered.

She cleared her throat, trying to maintain her edge. “And really…thank you for being my own little security detail.”

If Jason was healthy about expressing is thoughts and feelings, he would’ve told her that it was the highlight of his weeks. That he looked forward to her calls or texts, telling him that she was going to photograph another shady area. “Be there or don’t. I’m going no matter what,” she’d text him with her usual snark.

But Jason didn’t express his thoughts and feelings.

He kept them bottled up – with the same energy he used to keep Y/N at a distance.

So instead, Jason said, “If it wasn’t me, one of the others would’ve done it.”

Y/N winced slightly at that.

‘You’re such a fucking asshole,’ Jason told himself.

“You know…we can see each other even you’re not my bodyguard.”

Jason was impressed by her boldness. But she didn’t know what she was doing. She didn’t understand that he wasn’t good. He couldn’t play the loving boyfriend role. She belonged with someone like Dick or Clark – or literally anyone but him. And Jason was willing to be an asshole to make sure she understood that.

Y/N took a step closer to him, invading his personal space.

Without breaking eye contact, she threw back her second glass of champagne and then placed it on the nearest counter space.

She stepped even closer.

This was simultaneously Jason’s worst nightmare and most desired dream.

Her eyes moved from his eyes to his lips.

But before she could make her final push, Jason took a step back and cleared his throat.

He looked down at the ground as he said, “You should go.”

When he looked up, he expected to find Y/N heartbroken or embarrassed.

But she was neither.

No. She looked irritated.

Not because she wasn’t getting what she wanted, but because she was sick of his games.

Y/N sighed and stepped back. “Fine.”

Jason rubbed his face in frustration as she grabbed her purse and started for the door she had walked through only minutes ago.

She opened it and paused.

“You know what? No. Fuck that,” Y/N snapped before slamming the door closed.

She whipped around and strutted back to him with purpose.

Jason was suspended with both fervor and awe.

Y/N grabbed his face and pulled him down to her lips.

All self control went out the window. Jason couldn’t continue his game. It was all over for him.

He kissed her back almost immediately. How could he not?

Y/N bit his lip slightly, making him hiss in surprise. It was his punishment for making her wait all this time.

Eventually they needed a moment to breathe.

But Y/N didn’t let go of his face when their lips finally parted.

“Choose your next words very carefully,” she breathed.

He swallowed nervously. “You’re kind of fucking terrifying. You know that?”

Her smile was pure evil.

Apparently this was the right response.

“Are you done being an idiot?” She asked.

He nodded quickly.

Her hands moved down and then lingered on his neck, tracing the bottom lines of his jaw.

She smiled again and then looked him up and down.

“What?” He questioned.

“Nothing,” she laughed. “I’m just…I’m not used to being shorter than men.”

“Is that the only reason you like me? Huh? My height?” Jason goaded.

“Of course not,” Y/N scoffed. “It was the whole ‘I look like I could murder everyone and I can, but deep down I’m a big softie’ that did it for me.”

Jason’s grip tightened on her waist. “Oh, yeah? You’re one to talk…”

“Me?!” She yelped. “I couldn’t kill anyone, even if my life depended on it.”

“Maybe. But your terrifying in basically every other way.”

Y/N laughed at that.

Jason couldn’t stop himself from smiling at the sound

“So…still want me to leave?” She asked.

And this time, she would if that’s really what he wanted.

“Fuck no,” Jason answered, almost threateningly.

Then, for good measure, he picked her up by the back of her thighs and carried her to the couch, before he started to kiss her once again.

Y/N knew things weren’t always going to be this simple.

Jason had his demons. 

And honestly, so did she. They were nothing like his. And maybe they were silly in comparison. But she wouldn’t be the perfect partner. Just like he wouldn’t be. 

They’d drive each other crazy. But it would be the good kind of crazy.

------------------------------

+ Childhood

[sohotthateveryonedied]

Perfect Storm

Summary:

My friend @magebirdi gave me this idea like a month ago about a character dealing with a leg injury, period cramps, AND allergies all at the same time, so naturally I had to inflict this all on my boy Tim because who else am I going to project onto dfghjk. Anyway I saved this idea until the next time I had really bad cramps because what better way to take your mind off pain than by inflicting that pain on your comfort character <3

(Featuring the rest of the batkids and a movie night!!)

“This is depressing, even for you, Drake.” “I’ll fucking kill you,” Tim says without any real heat. It’s hard to sound intimidating when he’s congested and his vocal cords sound like they’ve been attacked by a cheese grater. Damian arches an eyebrow. “Now that would impress me. You know what? In the spirit of good sportsmanship, if you can make it all the way over here, I’ll let you get in a free shot.” The brat sits on the floor closest to the television, roughly ten colossal feet out of Tim’s reach. Dick put Damian in charge of picking the selection for movie night—a horrible idea, in Tim’s opinion, but he lacks the energy to complain. Tim has buried himself under three blankets, arranged in the corner of the sofa that has served as his cushy nest. A heating pad is laid out on his lower stomach, a soothing contrast to the ice pack wrapped around the cast encasing his ankle and foot. Tim’s leg is propped up on a pillow on the coffee table. A box of tissues sits near his leg, right next to a pile of candy wrappers and empty milkshake cups. “Don’t antagonize him, Damian,” Dick chides, returning from his trip to the kitchen. He carries with him three pints of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream. Just the sight of it is enough to relieve some of Tim’s pain. Dick tosses a pint to Damian before taking back his spot on the couch next to Tim. He hands over the salted caramel brownie flavor, which Tim snatches gratefully and drags into his nest.

“Did you pick a movie yet?” Dick asks Damian. His head is bent to the task of picking the plastic seal off his ice cream. “Don’t rush me.” Damian paws through their DVD collection like an archaeologist on a dig. He takes one out and reads the back summary of what Tim is pretty sure is one of the Shrek movies. After a minute, Damian tosses it back into the bin and picks out another. Dick nudges Tim with his elbow. “Feeling any better?” he asks, his voice low so Damian can’t eavesdrop. Tim shovels ice cream into his mouth as an answer. He’s not usually so blatant about his suffering—he’s a superhero, after all—but there is no better excuse for wallowing than the perfect storm he’s been thrown into: broken ankle, pesky seasonal allergies, and it’s the heaviest day of his period with cramps so bad he’s one dark impulse away from jabbing this spoon into his organs and ripping something out. Dick pats Tim’s leg in sympathy. He looks around the room, narrowing his eyes at the obvious absence of the rest of their siblings. “I called everyone downstairs, like, ten minutes ago. Where the hell are they?” He sighs tragically. “I ask for so little.” “I don’t blame them,” Tim says. “The only reason I’m still here is because I’m physically incapable of moving.” He gestures to his aching leg. “What are you talking about? My movie nights are great.” “Not when you skip all of the sex scenes.” “There are impressionable children here!” “In all fairness,” Damian says, raising a finger, “I have decapitated human beings before. Film depictions of intercourse is the least of your concerns.” Tim waves his hand in a there you go motion. “See? We need to start branching out movie night.” “I vote we watch The Exorcist,” Duke says, appearing in the doorway. He’s wearing a bright yellow snuggie that Tim recognizes from Cass’ closet. That’s probably fair, considering that half of what Cass wears is stolen from her brothers. Tim silently applauds the act of rightful civil disobedience. “Absolutely not,” Dick says. “No horror movies.” “What’s the difference between watching gore on TV and seeing it happen in real life?” Duke asks. He sits on the floor in front of the couch, being careful not to jostle Tim’s leg in the process. “We’ve witnessed stuff way worse than a little demonic possession.” “Because the last time we did a horror movie night, Jason tried to stab Tim with a meat hook.” “You really need to let that go,” Jason says. He enters the room, Cass trailing silently behind him. “I wasn’t actually going to gut the kid. I just wanted to see if I could.” “I’ll gut you,” Tim grumbles, wincing through another cramp. Cass makes a spot for herself on the couch between Dick and Tim, lying down with her head in Tim’s lap. Dick shoves away her socked feet when one of them knocks into his ice cream. Jason goes for the other couch across the room, but he makes a pit stop to steal Dick’s ice cream on the way. “Thanks, my favorite,” he says. Dick grabs Tim’s pillow—“Hey!” Tim protests—and throws it at Jason. “What about a mystery?” Duke suggests. “It’s been a while since we did one of those.” “Yeah,” Tim says, bunching a blanket under his head, “because every time we do, it ends in a brawl when we all compete to see who can solve the case first.” “That’s the best part!” “I needed five stitches last time!” Cass shrugs innocently. “Told you it was the maid.” “Whatever we watch,” Dick says, “I’m just glad you all came to your senses and decided to join in on movie night.” His cheery mood has returned in full. Jason snorts. “Like we had a choice. Last time I dodged movie night, you put glitter bombs in my underwear drawer.” “Only here for popcorn,” Cass says. Not that anyone in this household besides Alfred knows how to make good popcorn. Cass grabs a handful of blackened kernels from the bowl on the side table and digs in happily. “How’s the leg, Timmers?” Jason asks around a scoop of mint chocolate chip. “Painful, thanks.” Tim sneezes into his elbow. Duke hands him a tissue. “I hope Killer Croc is having a terrible

night,” Tim says, sniffling. “Don’t blame the poor mutated lizard for your own clumsines,” Damian calls from the DVD bin. “It’s pitiful.” “He pushed me down a sewer.” “You knew he had a tail. You should have been more vigilant.” Tim is about to retort—something along the lines of, You can’t even reach the top shelf without help, you snot-nosed bitch—but he’s cut off by yet another sneezing fit. He nearly knocks Cass onto the floor with the violence of it. Tim’s eyes water. “Jesus, fuck.” “Can you go be sick somewhere else?” Jason asks. He’s got his hand held protectively over the top of his ice cream like he’s shielding it from a bomb threat. “I don’t want snot in my ice cream.” “In my ice cream, you mean,” Dick says. Jason flips him off. “It’s just allergies,” Tim grumbles into a tissue. “I’ll bet that’s what the plague victims said,” Duke muses. “You know, before they died. Of the plague.” “I should’ve stayed an only child,” Tim says miserably. He pulls one of his blankets over his face, shutting out the world and its curse of siblings. “I vote Silence of the Lamps,” Cass says. She burrows closer to Tim’s stomach, stealing the warmth of the heating pad. “It’s lambs, Cassie,” Duke says. “No one wants to watch a movie about cannibalistic lamps.” “Um, I would?” Dick says. “Yeah, but you also watch Grey’s Anatomy in your free time. You have no taste.” “I vote for anything that’ll make Tim cry,” Jason chimes in. “I could use another blackmail video.” “Fuck you,” Tim says. He picks another caramel cup out of his ice cream and hands it down to Cass. Whoever decided that the world needed a caramel version of peanut butter cups deserves to die. Disgusting. “Remember last month when we watched Brother Bear?” Duke asks. He’s dug a black Sharpie out of his pocket and is now doodling a cat on Tim’s cast. “That was the greatest day of my life.” “You try watching that thing and not getting emotional!” Tim says. “The part when Koda gets to hug his mom again one last time…” His eyes get misty just thinking about it. Dick laughs and reaches over to ruffle his hair. “Oh, fuck off,” Tim says, shoving him away. “In that case, I vote we watch whatever film will make Drake cry the most,” Damian says. “Stitch,” Cass says knowingly. Tim gasps. “I told you that in secrecy!” She shrugs. “Don’t hate players. Hate the game.” Duke tries to stifle his laughter and fails horribly. Tim goes to smack him in the head with his spoon, but the next cramp has him curling into himself with a pained squeak. He falls back against the couch, arms wrapped around his aching middle. “This is the fucking worst.” “Quit being such a baby,” Damian says. “You’ve had worse.” “I hope you die in your sleep tonight.” “No, no, he has a point,” Jason says. “You didn’t whine nearly this much when I stabbed you that one time. Or any of the other times.” “Can we just pick a damn movie?” Tim says. “You guys are gonna make my head explode.” His sinuses feel like they’re filled with concrete and he’s pretty sure if he moves an inch, his organs will disintegrate. “We’re watching Lilo and Stitch,” Damian says decidedly. He’s already putting the movie in the DVD player. “Feel free to cry as much as you want, Drake.” “I hate you all.”

[ragingbookdragon]

The Secrets Best Left In The Dark

Batsis x Batfamily One-Shot

Word Count: 4K Warnings: Angst, Mentions of Death

Author's Note: I thrive on angst, so I have no apologies for y'all. Enjoy! -Thorne

They’d never claim their eldest sibling was cowardly. Far from it, she put her life on the line every day, in and out of the suit, defending those she cared for with a strength that they’d never seen in anyone. But while everyone in their family was typically hot-tempered and ready for a beatdown, she was calm and quiet. Always kind, and never letting anger, or any type of other emotion show besides pleasantness. For a while, they merely assumed she was the doormat type, simply on the basis that she never argued with their dad over anything—the whole “It’s my way or the highway” and his way was what she always went with—and that made her seem like an alien surrounded by humans because everyone argued with Bruce. That, and the fact that whenever she got into the rare fight during patrol, she’d never hit anybody. She was trained to take down multiple combatants and not once did she ever punch, hit, or kick a single person.

It was practically abnormal to be in the Batfamily and never lay a hand on a criminal, and yet that was what their sister did. Hardly ever did she use force to get what she wanted, always relying on stealth. Even on the minute cases when she got caught in an infiltration and had to fight her way out, she used electrified gauntlets to subdue them, rarely coming to blows. So, in a sense while everyone in her family was an aggressive fighter, she was a defensive—or perhaps a passive one—and that’s how she acted in life too. Always passive by nature, but always playing the peacekeeper between brothers and between fathers and sons.

They never knew why she was such a way, from the stories that Diana and Clark used to tell, back when it was just their sister and Bruce, she was a whirlwind that got into fights with anything that dared breathe in her direction—apparently, she made her angriest siblings look like mice. But no matter how many times they pried or even asked Bruce (apparently, he didn’t know what changed either—and this was coming from the World’s Greatest Detective), she never talked about it, simply saying that she grew out of always being angry and wanted to be calmer.

They suspected she held a dark secret—but no one could’ve prepared for just how dark and damaging it had been to her all these years.

***

In hindsight, taking a trip into Scarecrow’s lab was a bad idea, but when the offer had come up in the cave from her father, (Y/N) was happy to lend a hand, knowing that with his recent injury, he wouldn’t’ve been able to get out there during the night. It was also amazing, in the twenty-seven years she’d been alive, and in the past nineteen years that she’d been a vigilante, she’d never seen her father take a break—she could count on one hand how many times he had, and even then, he was still working in the cave, so technically it wasn’t a break.

But after tangling with Bane and Croc, he’d broken a few ribs and after repeated complaints and worries from her, his sons, and Alfred, Bruce finally agreed to let his children handle patrol. Which is why when the quadrants of the city were split up between Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian, it left (Y/N) to pick up specific places that Bruce wanted checked out—she warmly agreed to do so. And while she was confident in her abilities to do everything, he asked of her, she should’ve called for backup when it came to infiltrating Scarecrow’s hideout.

***

Another vent went off above her and she ducked, eyes narrowing as she watched the orange fog, appearing blue through her detective mode, drift out. She would’ve sprayed it, but she’d used up all of her explosive gel covering the others. Now she simply had to avoid them and hope that her gas mask filtered properly—so far, it was. A shrill laugh echoed through the speakers above her, and shivers went down her spine.

Anytime now, Batgirl. You will fall too.

She frowned. “I’m not afraid of you, Doctor Crane.” Ducking under another pipe, she added, “I can help you if you’ll let me.”

Help me? Help…ME? You can’t even help YOURSELF!

Scarecrow had always been a talker, much like the majority of the villains they faced, and he was looking for a rise. She came to the end of the corridor where the pipes met a brick wall and she sighed, searching for a way through. A vent covered the top right corner and she pulled out the grapple gun, pointing it at the grate. She pressed the trigger and it latched onto the metal bars; grasping the cord, she yanked as hard as she could, stepping backwards when it fell, hitting the ground with a clang.

(Y/N) heaved herself up into the vent and crawled on her hands and knees, as quietly as she could, twisting and turning through the maze of confined metal. When she came to the end, another grate covered the exit and she pressed her foot against it, pushing until the bolts popped loose and she could slip out.

From the looks of it, if the advanced chemistry equipment were any help, she’d ended up in Scarecrow’s lab. He wasn’t in sight, but that gave her time to look around and see if he’d changed any formulas recently. She raised her wrist and tapped at the blue screen, taking a moment to run a program. When it beeped, (Y/N) sighed in relief and reached up, pulling the gas mask off—the air was clean.

She set the mask down on the counter and put a finger to her ear. “Batman, do you read me?” His voice came through a moment later.

“I read you Batgirl. Loud and clear.”

“I’m in Doctor Crane’s lab,” she said, poking around at the notes he’d scrawled out. “I don’t see anything new. The formulas all look the same.”

“Compounds?”

She frowned and read. “Honestly, it’s a bit hard to decipher. His handwriting is a lot like Red’s when he’s had one too many energy drinks.” A quiet huff came from over the line, telling her that he was amused. “I’ll send you pictures of it and see if you can.” (Y/N) snapped a few photos. “Get ‘em?”

“Just now,” he replied, and she walked over to one of the lit Bunsen burners.

“Looks like he’s got something brewing right now though,” (Y/N) leaned over and peered into it, careful to avoid any steam that was rising.

“Recognize it?”

She paused. “It’s not the usual stuff he’s got. It looks almost golden and—”

All at once the dish exploded and she had just enough time to cover her face from the shattering glass, letting out a gasp as she recoiled.

“Batgirl, what happened?”

(Y/N) coughed and waved a hand, and when her hand appeared double, she breathed out in shock. “Oh no,” she whispered.

“Batgirl, report.” She hurried to the exit of the lab as Scarecrow’s cackle sounded overhead.

“I’ve been hit with a blast of toxin.” Pulling open the door, she fumbled with her utility belt then let out a sigh.

“What’s wrong?”

(Y/N) shook her head and weaved down the corridors, the faster she got to her bike, the faster she could get back to the cave.

“I don’t have any anti-toxin on me.” She pushed against the doors and stumbled out into the cold and rainy night. Her mind was already beginning to fog over as she climbed onto her bike, and she barely had enough focus to keep it steady while she programmed it to auto-drive.

“I’m sending one of the boys to you.”

She grunted and lifted her foot as the bike revved and shot forward. “Don’t. I’ve already programmed the bike to the cave’s coordinates. I’ll be back in less than fifteen minutes.”

“You won’t make it that long.”

(Y/N) groaned as the lights began to flash around her and she saw faces and images passing her. “I just have to…focus.”

Horns blared around her as the bike weaved in and out of cars and she held onto the frame with all the strength she had. His voice started echoing in her ears and she shut her eyes, trying to block it out.

You could’ve saved me.

Another groan escaped her, and she heard, “(Y/N), talk to me.”

She shook her head. “I can’t—I have to—focus now.” But with every passing second, his voice got louder and more insistent.

You let me die. You watched me die.

(Y/N)’s eyes filled with tears and they dripped down her cheeks. I tried to save you. she thought, hoping it would suffice, but she knew it wouldn’t. I tried so hard to. The last thing she remembered was turning onto the street that led to the cave.

***

Bruce was already pushing away from the Batcomputer when the boys arrived back at the cave, Dick and Damian from the Batmobile, and Tim and Jason from their own rides. Knowing that their father wasn’t one to sit around, it wasn’t out of the ordinary for him to be moving, but with how quick and worried his movements seemed, they knew something was wrong.

Dick pulled the cowl away from his face and asked, “B? What’s wrong?”

Bruce didn’t respond at first, hurrying towards the medical station they had. “Your sister was dosed with fear toxin and she doesn’t have anti-toxin to counteract it.”

Jason, who’d already taken his hood off, was already in the process of putting it back on. “Let one of us take it to her.”

Their father shook his head, rummaging for an antidote. “She’s coming back here.”

“Here?” Tim repeated, striding over. “Fear toxin works within seconds on normal people, minutes for us.” He looked at his brothers. “She won’t have enough time to get back here and not be under the effects.”

Bruce nodded, focusing as he poured a vial of glowing green liquid into the needle gun. “I know.” He looked at Tim. “That’s why I’m getting it ready for her.”

“Father, can we do anything?” Damian questioned, pulling away the domino mask from his eyes.

“Get ready to be on the defensive if she’s offensive,” he replied. “I don’t think she’ll hit anybody, but you never know.”

“She can’t hit that hard. (Y/N) only weighs—” Jason cut off as the rev of an engine cut though the air and they turned to see their eldest sister coming in on a sleek black motorcycle, that was shaking badly.

“(Y/N)!” Dick yelled and the bike suddenly shifted and toppled sideways, throwing her from it. It slid across the cave floor in a hail of sparks, metal, and plastic flying in every direction as (Y/N) rolled too.

They started running towards her, hoping to stop her when her back collided with one of the glass cases that held their suits, and she went limp.

Bruce reached her first, and knelt down, setting the antidote aside to check her first. The way she hit the case and with how hard, it was possible that she could be seriously injured—or worse.

“(Y/N)!” he called, hands coming to pull her away from the case. She whimpered and he let out a sigh—she was still alive. “(Y/N), can you hear me?” he inquired, reaching up to pull the cowl from her face.

Her brothers crowded behind him and they all stared in horror as tears streamed down her cheeks, and blood out of her nose.

“I’m sorry,” she bawled. “I tried to save you.” Bruce looked at her then grabbed the needle gun, bringing it up to her neck.

“Hang on, (Y/N). You’re gonna be okay.”

She grabbed his hand and cried, “I held on as long as I could, but my grip was slipping. I’m sorry I couldn’t hold onto you. I’m sorry I let you go. I let you die. I’m sor—” her sobs cut her off as she curled in on herself, and as if finally snapping out of a trance, Bruce pulled his hand from her grip and pulled the trigger of the gun.

(Y/N) jerked as the needle entered her skin and they watched the neon green liquid in the vial emptied. She fell into whimpers and mumbles of “I’m sorry” before her eyes rolled back and she collapsed in Bruce’s arms.

He stared at her for a second, feeling numb at his daughter’s admissions. Whatever her fear had been, it’d been there a long time, and he had no idea what it was about. Sighing heavily, he drew his eyes to his sons, to Jason.

“Will you take (Y/N) to her bedroom while I get an IV ready?”

Jason nodded and bent down, picking up his unconscious sister. He tucked her head in the crook of his neck and looked at Dick. “Get the doors, yeah?” Dick nodded and hurried ahead of him, while Tim and Damian followed in suit.

Bruce was left alone in a matter of moments, and all he could do was rise to his feet and ready the medical supplies, all the while, thinking back on every night that (Y/N) had gone on patrol in the last nineteen years—and the last time someone died in front of her.

***

Her head felt like an overripe melon ready to burst, and that first moment of cracking her eyes open was the biggest mistake since she told her dad what ‘Thot’ meant. The second she opened them, she shut them once more, inhaling deeply through her nose as the fog started to clear from her mind.

“Queenie, hey, you’re awake,” Jason murmured, and she nodded, blinking a few times before his face came into focus, Dick appearing Tim appearing behind him.

“Go get dad,” Dick said to someone, and she figured it was Damian since neither Jason nor Tim moved.

(Y/N) started shifting, trying to sit up when Dick put his hand on her shoulder, gentle, but firm as he said, “Don’t try to move, Barbie.”

“Where’s dad?” she asked, craning her neck to see.

“Damian’s going to get him sis,” Tim answered, smoothing out the blanket covering her. “Just relax. You took a beating when you came into the cave.”

“I did?” she questioned, eyes widening in shock when they nodded, faces pinched with worry.

The ceiling light turned on just bright enough to give sight and they looked at Bruce who was coming in, Damian following.

“(Y/N),” Dick moved, letting Bruce take his spot, and he took her hand in his, running his thumb over the back of her hand. “You had us all worried.”

She frowned and exhaled heavily. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.” She gazed between them, and something in their eyes made an emotion she couldn’t describe rise in her chest.

“Why are you all looking at me like that?” (Y/N) met Bruce’s eyes. “What happened?” Before he could answer, she gasped and looked at her brothers. “I didn’t hurt anyone, did I?”

A chorus of hurried, “No’s!” rang out and she sighed in relief, reclining back on the pillows.

“Oh, thank goodness.” She went silent, then started, “But…something did happen, didn’t it?”

Her brothers glanced between themselves then they looked at Bruce who sighed and squeezed her hand, drawing her attention to him.

“What?” she asked and when he said nothing, she repeated, “Dad, what?”

His steel blue eyes met hers and he murmured, “You were apologizing for…letting someone die.”

Whatever had flashed in her eyes that told them she knew exactly what they were talking about was shocking enough because Jason said, “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t wanna, Queenie.”

(Y/N) fell silent for a full minute and when she spoke again, her voice was quiet and the look in her eyes was far away. “Before Dick came to the manor it was just you and I patrolling Gotham. At eight, I wasn’t really let out of your sight, but one night I had wandered off while you were dealing with Two-Face.” She looked at Bruce. “I found an injured GCPD officer on a bridge. He had been tailing Killer Croc.”

She glanced at Tim. “His name was Grady Richards.”

Tim’s eyes fell to the tablet in his hands, and he tapped at the screen for a few moments, then read, “Hero cop Grady Richards honored after dying in line of duty. He fell off a broken bridge on Miagani Island.”

Bruce’s eyes found hers again. “He didn’t fall, did he?”

(Y/N) felt tears grow in her vision and she shook her head. “No…no he didn’t.” Inhaling deeply, she recounted, “Croc came back and there was no way either of us could’ve taken him, so we ran. And Croc chased us.” She shut her eyes, remembering the night.

***

Fear pulsed through her veins as she sprinted as far away from the overgrown crocodile as she could. The GCPD officer was ahead of her, but he stopped and spun around to see her.

“Hurry!” he yelled, pointing back to the car. “Get to the cruiser!”

She spared a glance over her shoulder, eyes going wide when she saw Killer Croc picking up one of the concrete guards.

“Duck!” was all she heard, and she hit the ground, watching as if in slow motion as it flew overhead, then smashed into the top of the cop’s car, glass and metal shattering under the pressure.

Someone grabbed her by the back of her suit and hauled her up, slinging her behind them, and the back of the GCPD officer’s uniform came into view.

“Start running, Batgirl! And don’t stop!” he yelled, and when he has his sidearm drawn, he looked down at her. “You’ve got as much time as I have bullets.” He turned, opening fire, and she took a moment to stare before scrambling to her feet to start running.

A cry of pain sounded behind her, and against her better judgement, she turned and looked, gaping as Croc’s arm sent the officer flying. He hit the guardrail and collapsed against it and her feet were moving before she could stop them.

The first punch went to the back of Croc’s knee and she knew it had to have hurt her more than it did him because he didn’t even flinch. But when those glowing yellow eyes peered down at her, she knew she was in trouble.

“Looks like I’ve got an appetizer for the night!” he laughed and reached for her, but she ducked and rolled out of his way, standing in front of the wounded GCPD officer, who weakly looked up at her.

“What are you—doing? I told you…to run.”

She couldn’t beat Killer Croc, and she knew it, but she shook her head and stared down the villain before her.

Croc’s attacks were wide and though she was small, she was pushed to her limit rolling and dodging every one. After a few moments, she was practically dead on her feet, huffing as her lungs begged for air. She kept wiping away the rain that splattered against her mask and on a particularly unlucky step, she found herself slipping.

And it was all the opening that Croc needed because he swiped at her and she flew backwards into the officer who’d managed to stand, just barely. Colliding with him tipped his balance and they went over the guardrail, barreling towards the ground.

She reached out as fast as she could and grabbed hold of the metal beam that ran the length of the under bridge, crying out in pain as it pulled the joints and bones. Her other hand gripped the officer’s and she held on tight. Croc leaned over the bridge, apparently not seeing them because his footsteps went off in the opposite direction, leaving them in silence.

Time passed and she wasn’t sure how long, but both her arms were getting tired, and she looked down at the officer.

“Sir?” she called, and he looked up at her. “You have to climb. I’m starting to lose grip.”

He tried to reach up but let out a cry and grabbed his side with his free hand. Pulling his hand away, she saw the crimson dilute with rainwater.

The hand that held the ledge began to cramp and she started hyperventilating. “Please, you need to hurry! I can’t hold on much longer!” Again, he tried, and she looked down at him as her fingers began to shake.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered and let go of his hand, and the last thing she saw until he hit the ground was the sight of his eyes, wide with fear and pleading.

***

“I watched his head explode when he hit the ground,” she said, tears pouring down her cheeks as she stared out the window, watching the rain hit against the glass. “I had to make a choice. Either both of us died or one of us lived.” (Y/N) looked at Bruce. “And I chose my life over his.”

No one could believe their ears at the story she’d told, but suddenly, the self-sacrificing attitude their sister had, the way she’d bend over backwards for anyone, made perfect sense—she did it out of atonement, for a wrong she carried since she was eight years old.

“I pulled myself back up onto the bridge and I ran as far as I could and didn’t look back,” she said. “I kept my mouth shut when the paper ran his story and never told anyone about it.”

(Y/N)’s breath shuddered. “I just pushed it down as far inside me as I could and tried to forget about it.” Her eyes met Bruce and she tearfully stated, “But every time I closed my eyes, I saw his face.”

He leaned forward and took her hand. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked softly, dark brows furrowed in hurt.

She swallowed thickly and shook her head as she replied, “I killed someone that night. I was terrified about what you would’ve said. About what you would’ve done.” He gazed at her and (Y/N) whispered, “I’m sorry, dad.”

Bruce dropped her gaze and took a deep breath before murmuring, “It was just an accident, (Y/N).”

“I let go of—”

“I would’ve been more upset having to bury my daughter,” he interrupted, and she fell silent, gaping at him. He searched her face and reached up, placing a hand on her cheek. “I understand why you kept this secret, but you should’ve come to me, (Y/N).” Shaking his head, he added, “You didn’t deserve to be buried under this for nineteen years.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, lowering her head and Bruce shook his head in response.

“No, I’m sorry.” When she met his eye, he continued, “I’m sorry I didn’t know you were carrying this. Then and now.”

(Y/N) swallowed and rested back against the bed. “I send his widow money on the anniversary of his death. I slip it into the pension she’s given.” She let out a sigh. “It’s the only way I’ve found that I could sleep at night.”

Her eyes drifted to the window and Bruce placed a kiss to her forehead. “Get some sleep, sweetheart.” She nodded and before he left, he said, “And when you feel up for it, we’ll see about setting up a fund in his name.”

She wished it didn’t make her as emotional as it did, but silent tears dripped down her cheeks as the door closed, leaving her and her brothers alone. They gathered on her bed, leaning close to offer their support, and she was thankful for them doing so. And for the first time in nineteen years, when (Y/N) closed her eyes, she didn’t see Grady Richards’ face.

[awhitehead17]

Whumptober 2022: Day 24 - Fight, Flight, or Freeze

Prompt: Blood Covered Hands 

Summary: After watching Damian almost bleed out to death, Jason is left feeling disconnected with himself. Dick follows him home to make sure he’s okay and without being asked too offers his support where he needs it.

Enjoy! :D

No matter how much he tries to remove it, the substance doesn’t leave his skin. He rubs his hands raw trying to remove the blood that coats them but it isn’t getting him anywhere.

He’s been stood at the bathroom sink for who knows how long by now and has tried everything to get the stains off his skin. He’s tried soap, hot water, cold water, disinfectant, shampoo, and yet nothing seems to be working in getting rid of the red that still covers his hands. He’s now considering to trying to use bleach, there’s a bottle of the stuff he can spot in the corner of the room, it’s very tempting.

Perhaps if he were in his right mind he would realise that his hands are in fact clean and he’s only causing his own skin to bleed now instead. However since that is not the case, he’s currently not in his right mind, all Jason can see is Damian’s blood plastered over his hands. Blood that shouldn’t be on Jason’s body, blood that should’ve remained in Damian’s body which didn’t because of poor decisions and life threatening consequences.

Damian barely made it to Leslie’s clinic. The kid had been inches away from death. Jason got an update who knows how long ago on the kid’s health and while he’s still unconscious apparently he’s going to be fine with time, Dr Tompkins stitched him together, gave him blood and ultimately saved his life. Her actions, unlike Jason’s, saved the kid’s life, all Jason did was stand around while the culprit who wounded Damian escaped.

Snarling Jason lets out a noise in frustration and slams his hands down on the side of the sink before gripping it tightly. He grits his teeth and closes his eyes as what occurred that evening replays in his mind. Damian getting shot multiple times, Jason watching it from a distance unable to prevent it from happening and then how he had to make a decision on whether to go after asshole or stay behind to put pressure on the wounds. Knowing the kid could bleed out if his wounds weren’t treated Jason stayed behind until help arrived, by that point his hands and clothes and even the floor were covered in Damian’s blood and the kid was barely breathing.

Jason went with them until Damian got taken away to be operated on and immediately left once he heard Damian was going to be okay. As soon as he got into his apartment he made way for the bathroom and started to scrub at his hands to get rid of the blood, the blood that’s gone but has left a stain behind.

“Jason.”

At the sound of his name Jason’s head snaps up and he opens his eyes to look in the mirror opposite him, in the reflection he sees Dick standing in the doorway wearing a frown and looking concerned. By the looks of it, it seems like the guy’s been standing there for a while and Jason wonders how long he had been watching him scrub uselessly at his hands.

“What you doing here Dick?” Jason asks neutrally. He would normally snap at one of bat’s randomly appearing in his home but Jason finds he just doesn’t have the energy to do so that night.

“Damian is going to be fine. Leslie is going to keep him in overnight and if it all seems okay she’s going to give the greenlight for him to be transferred back to the Manor in the morning.”

Jason pauses, of course he’s glad to hear that, however he already knew that information. It doesn’t answer his question on why Dick is here in his apartment.

“Great,” he comments blandly, “Bruce is probably thrilled with that. It doesn’t answer why you’re here though.”

Dick sighs and shakes his head. The elder walks into his bathroom and comes to stop by his side, no longer able to see him clearly in the mirror Jason is forced to turn around to face him in order to do so.

Dick seems to hesitate before answering, it also doesn’t escape Jason’s notice how his gaze lingers at his hands before flicking up to look at his face. “I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

Jason snorts and looks back down at his red hands. “I’m not the one currently unconscious after almost bleeding out to death.”

“No. But you are the one who stopped that from happening.” Dick’s words are said with that no-nonsense tone he’s somehow picked up from Alfred. It’s infuriating because its hard to argue with that tone.

“I didn’t do much.” Jason says in the end, almost petulantly.

Dick doesn’t respond right away. Instead his brother leans over the sink and turns on the tap, he tests the waters temperature with his finger before gently gripping Jason’s hands with his own. At that point he hesitates for a moment, looking up at Jason with a questioning gaze but when Jason doesn’t react Dick continues on, he guides Jason’s hands underneath the lukewarm water and dabs at them with a clean cloth that materialized from somewhere.

That’s when it finally becomes clear in his mind that his hands are clean, the blood he had been long trying to clean off his skin was all just a figment of his imagination.

“You saved his life by putting pressure on his wounds. I know you would have wanted to go after the shooter but by staying with Damian you saved his life. You are the reason why he's survived today, he would have bled out completely before we were able to get him to the clinic.”

Dick points this out to him as he turns off the tap and moves to dry Jason’s hand with a towel. When he’s done, Jason’s hands are left red from where he viciously scrubbed at them and slightly tender to touch. Dick pulls away from him then, looking at him with a soft smile.

“It may feel like you failed today because after all Damian did get wounded and he almost died, however that didn’t happen because you were able to save his life in the end. It’s easy to say but we shouldn’t get caught up in the what if’s, that won’t do us any good. For now we rejoice in the fact Damian is okay.”

Dick’s speech leaves Jason feeling winded. He has no idea on how to respond to that. Normally he would either snap or make a comment about him being sappy, although for some reason Jason just doesn’t have it in him to do it. Jason currently feels drained and tired to the point that he doesn’t feel like himself.

Fortunately Dick seems to know that Jason needs his space in that moment, his brother steps away and starts heading out of the bathroom.

“Now I don’t know about you but I’m hungry. So you go and get changed and I’ll order us some take out.”

He’s gone before Jason could comment. Jason blinks at the empty space before shaking his head and accepting it. He knows what Dick is doing, his brother is giving him space but isn’t leaving him alone, it’s his way of looking after him without being all in his face about it. For once Jason finds himself easily accepting it, maybe some company that night won’t be such a bad thing after all.

[staywhelmedbatfam]

Reunited

~Damian Wayne/Reader~

Summary: You had thought things were going well between you two. That is until he up and left the city without a single word. When he suddenly appeared one night, you made it your mission to get answers.

Hello all! It's been a while since I've posted any fics. The spring semester was kicking my butt and my work is really lacking in employees (as I'm sure a lot of other places are) so I didn't really have time nor the energy to get a lot written. On top of that, I've got plenty of one shots started but no idea how to end them😅

I wasn’t really sure how I wanted to end this one, but I think it’s satisfactory. Enjoy!

***

“Damian?” you asked in a tone of disbelief as you stared at what you thought was his back. He stopped in his tracks but didn’t turn around. A blade quickly found its way to your throat, dangerously close to breaking the skin.

“You will only address him as The Demon’s Head,” the blade wielder growled.

You kept your focus on the person unknown to you, watching from your peripherals, as Damian turned around. Many emotions overcame you now that his identity was confirmed. He raised his hand and made a gesture while walking forward. The blade lowered, the wielder taking a step back from you. With your life no longer in immediate danger, you shifted your gaze to Damian.

His eyes bored into yours as he got closer and finally came to a stop a foot in front of you. He briefly looked away while he spoke to his subordinate, “Leave us.” As they were leaving, Damian’s senses remained alert until he was sure they had exited the room. Now that the two of you were alone, his facial expression softened as his hands came up to hold your face.

“Dam–” you started, only to be cut off by lips meeting yours. Melting into the kiss, you squeezed your eyes shut and your hands found their way to his chest. Tears began to run down your cheeks.

He pulled away all too soon for your liking. Wiping the tears from your face with his thumbs, he continued to hold your face and you stared up at him. “(Y/N)… I apologize for leaving so suddenly. I should have told you. I’m so sorry, Beloved.”

“It’s been months, Damian. I thought something terrible had happened to you, but I never heard from your family. When I finally asked them, they told me you’d left. They never mentioned anything to me because they thought you had said something to me already,” you expressed, eyes shining with new, unshed tears. “And they didn’t get into specifics either. Then I see you and, suddenly, I have a knife to my throat. What in the world is going on?”

“I never imagined this would be how I tell you about any of this. Me leaving without a word was supposed to be the best way to protect you, but I ended up hurting us both instead.” He shut his eyes in anguish for a moment and let out a sigh before continuing. “My mother and grandfather were part of a group called The League of Assassins. I was raised in the League, training to become the perfect soldier and succeed my grandfather as leader. As you know, I went to live with my father at ten years old. The only reason I did was because of an attack on the League’s compound. Mother thought that was for the best at the time. Father never even knew I existed until we showed up in Gotham. While I lived with him, he showed me a better way than what the League had instilled in me. I ended up patrolling the city as Robin alongside him.

“When Mother came to take me back, I decided I would remain in Gotham. The first couple of years in Gotham were rocky, to say the least, but I eventually came to like it. Then you came along. I was instantly drawn to you, no matter how much I told myself I wasn’t interested in any kind of relationship – romantic or platonic. You lit up every room you walked into with that bright, gorgeous smile. I was in deep before I even realized it. You were the light I needed to counter all the darkness in my life. Then, a couple of months before I left, my mother insinuated that she would harm you if I didn’t return to the League. I tried to delay it as long as possible, but then I realized I was only hurting you more.”

Learning all of this new information at once and overcome with emotion, you stammered, “I–I would have come with you–”

“That’s precisely why I didn’t want to tell you. The League… it’s not a place for someone as generous and kind as you, Beloved. Had you come with me, there is no doubt in my mind that my mother would have done something to you anyway because you didn’t meet her standards. Regardless, I didn’t want you to waste the rest of your life being involved with a group of assassins when I know you are meant for so much more.” He leaned down, touching his forehead to yours, and closed his eyes. You shut your eyes too, relishing in the closeness.

Opening your eyes, you sighed before speaking, “So what happens now? I don’t want to lose you again.”

“I have to leave for now, but I promise you – this won’t be the last time you see me.” Damian lowered his voice as he continued, “It’s going to take some time, but I’m working on disbanding the League.”

“Just… be careful. Come back to me in one piece.”

“Your wish is my command.” He brought you in for another kiss, this one lasting a bit longer than the first. “I love you, (Y/N).”

“I love you too, Dami.”

***

After Damian told you about everything he had been keeping secret, you talked to his family. Since then, you’ve gone to the manor on occasion for dinner or even to help with their nighttime activities when they asked. At least the help you provided them never required you to leave the safety of the Batcave.

Even though you knew the details of Damian’s whereabouts now, you were still anxious. He had promised you that you would see each other again. That didn’t stop you from worrying or missing him. You felt empty without him beside you but pushed through each day with the thought that no news was good news.

As time passed, so did special occasions like birthdays, Valentine’s Day, and your anniversary. On the day of each occasion, you received a bouquet of your favorite flowers. Sometimes there was no occasion. You would cry every time, but the flowers weren’t the cause of your tears. No, it was the hand-written note that always came with the flowers. Just seeing Damian’s handwriting was enough to bring tears to your eyes. His words made you cry even harder.

After the first couple of notes, you bought a keepsake box and a journal. The notes got put in the box and you wrote a new entry in the journal after each one. Sometimes you would write an entry even when there was no letter – when you felt like you missed him more than usual.

Your coworkers tried to set you up with someone at one point until you told them you were in a long-distance relationship. They seemed to understand but were confused since you never talked about him. The longer this went on, the more skeptical they became. Questions were asked and you tried to answer them as best as you could without telling them anything they shouldn’t know.

“Seriously, it’s complicated. The circumstances we’re under don’t really allow me to share anything. I appreciate your concern though,” you told them right before leaving work for the day. They all watched you leave and gave each other worried glances.

When you returned to your apartment and unlocked the door, you set your purse and keys down on the entryway table then kicked off your shoes. Letting out a heavy sigh, you entered your bedroom and changed out of your work clothes into something more comfortable. That ended up being shorts and one of Damian’s sweatshirts that you took from his room a few months ago when you were at the manor. You tried not to wear it too often so his scent would last longer. Today, you just felt like you needed to be wrapped up in it.

Exiting your room, you headed for the couch to sit down and watch one of your weekly shows. You almost made it to the couch when a voice made your anxiety skyrocket and your heartbeat speed up.

“You always did look better in my clothes than I did.”

Whipping your head in the direction of your balcony, your eyes began to water. Damian stood inside your apartment, dressed as Robin. “I’m not dreaming, am I? It’s really you?”

“It’s really me, Beloved,” he replied with a serene expression on his face.

Running to him, you wrapped your arms around him and buried your face in his chest as the tears spilled down your cheeks. He hugged you tight and placed a kiss on the top of your head.

“I’m sorry it took so long,” he whispered against your hair.

You shook your head against his chest. “You’re here. That’s all I care about.”

***

I was thinking about doing something extra with the notes and the journal. Is this something you guys would like to see? Let me know! I appreciate any comments!

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[avaritia-apotheosis]

Phantom Children Ch. 8

What's this? An update! Massive thanks to my betas for helping me get through this chapter <3

In Which: A few answers are given to the family and Danny is rudely awoken

[Side note: If you wanna know the general ages of the batfam, its listed in the AO3 version. I also talk about katanas in the end notes ^-^]

AO3 | Prologue | 7 | [ 8 ] | 9 DAMIAN INFORMED TODD—and Drake when he arrived on his bike sometime later on—that the boy whose face is plastered across the monitor was neither a picture of himself nor of Father.

Drake took one glance at the monitor and sighed, pressing his fingers against the bridge of his nose. “Just when I thought this day was getting better.”

“What, did that café on 5th finally let customers supersize their drink?”

“God that would be the dream, wouldn’t it?” Drake sighed wistfully. “Nah, but I did get a lead on where some of that stolen Cadmus tech might’ve ended up. I was gonna spend the night following up on it, but I guess we have to deal with,” he gestured to the monitor, “whatever this is.”

Todd leaned against the edge of the computer, arms crossed over the red bat insignia on his chest. “What are we dealing with this time, brat? A clone? An alternate universe counterpart? Magic shenanigans?”

Maybe. Perhaps. All of those were perfectly valid conclusions for the enigma that was Daniel James Fenton. (Why Fenton and not al Ghul? Or even Wayne?)

Damian, too, was a genetic experiment; a ‘test tube baby’ as Drake put it at times. Damian was born for greatness, created to be perfect. The perfect soldier. The perfect assassin. The perfect heir. Was this boy—Daniel—like him as well?

A failed one, then. Perhaps the precursor to Damian’s own existence. But that would not explain why the boy was allowed to exist for so long. His grandfather demanded perfection, especially from those of his own blood. If the boy was a failure, he would have been eliminated immediately, not sent to live with some eccentric scientists in the Midwest.

Damian was not naïve enough to think that his mother and grandfather did not keep secrets from him. On the contrary, he expected it. The League of Shadows dealt in secrets as often as it did in death. Certain information was worth its weight in gold, whether it was given or buried away.

But he could not help the sharp pang in his chest. A lightning strike, quick and electrifying at the notion that they kept secrets about their family from him.

His father’s face flashed in his mind. The shock turned into a slow, dawning horror. That flicker of light, of recognition, as he scrutinized the contents of the flash drive and cross-referenced it with a public database.

And grief.

Damian recognized the grief.

Alfred, too, nearly dropped his tray of fresh-baked cookies when he stepped in front of the monitor. His usual unflappable demeanor was momentarily broken at his father’s whispered “Sixteen years. Alfred— he’s sixteen years old.”

His father knew of the boy. He was allowed to know of Daniel when he was not allowed to know about Damian.

------

Grayson returned to the cave with a distinct lack of energy in his step. His mask dangled off the tips of his fingers, chin angled downwards and covered largely by his hand. For a split second, their eyes met. Grayson shifted his gaze away, scratching the back of his neck. Father told him, then. Damian wondered how much Father revealed to his favorite son.

Damian clucked his tongue and buried himself deeper into the chair, arms crossed and pointedly looking away. If it was not for his accursed ankle, he’d have headed out to the training ring to take his frustrations out on the dummies.

“Oh, thank god you’re here, Dickface. Damian’s completely out of it.”

Damian shot him a look. “Shut up, Todd.”

“Leave him alone, Jay. Is Tim back yet?”

Drake emerged from the changing room in a dark green shirt, a fresh cup of coffee in hand. He took one long sip before exhaling. “Yeah, I’m here.”

“O-kay…” He pressed his hands together, mouth thinned into a grim line. “Uh, hey Tim, glad to see you back safe. Bruce is coming down soon to explain some things.” He let out a deep sigh, carding a hand through his hair. “This kind of thing would probably be better with the girls around, but I—god, I don’t know.”

Todd raised an eyebrow. “Don’t know whether to call Steph and Cass in Hong Kong, or don’t know what’s going on?”

“Yes.”

------

When Father arrived, Pennyworth following dutifully behind him, it was with an aching slowness in his gait. His steps measured and precise, preternaturally quiet as he made his way to stand by Damian’s chair. Damian sat up straighter, shoulders squared and back an inch away from the backrest. The rest, even Todd, stood at attention; an ingrained habit among Robins and an amusing instinct even among the senior heroes of the Justice League when it came to facing the Batman.

His father kept a steady hand on Damian’s shoulder, and Damian, shamefully, leaned into the touch; his head inclined towards his father’s hand so much so that he could feel the ends of his hair being pushed up slightly as he brushed against his father’s forearm.

He spoke with his usual monotone, as if he was heading a Justice League meeting as opposed to unveiling the secrets surrounding that boy. He brought forward the few photos they obtained from the flash drive. “A few weeks ago, we were alerted of suspicious movement from the League of Shadows in Amity Park, Illinois. Their objectives are, as of now, unclear, though it appears to be tied to the death of Amity Park resident, Daniel Fenton.”

One photo was a standard ID picture people get for their driver’s license, the lighting deliberately horrible so that any attempt to look decent would always end in failure. Another photo was a little better; a candid scene of him chatting with two others his age, a Caucasian girl in gothic-style clothes and an African-American holding a sleek, but still very outdated PDA. His blue eyes crinkled at the corners, hand reaching up to his face to stifle a laugh. There were other photos like this, some candid, others posed. At the forefront of each, a boy that looked too much like his father, too much like Damian.

His father glanced at the photos. He shut his eyes and when he opened them again, he fixed them on some distant stalactite in the Cave. “Around six months ago, Daniel was pronounced dead in a vehicular accident. A body was present, but according to police reports, he was identified via his driver’s license as opposed to any kind of DNA profiling.” He leaned over Damian’s chair to pull up a profile of Masters. “Our source—Vladimir Masters, mayor of Amity and a friend of the Fenton family—indicated his belief that Daniel is actually alive. I am inclined to agree.”

“He’s your son, isn’t he,” Drake said, more of a statement than a question.

Father gave a curt nod. “I cannot say for certain until I can perform a DNA test, but I highly suspect that to be the case.”

“First the demon spawn, now this. Great.” Todd made a hand motion towards the screen. “You know, Bruce, not knowing you have a kid once might be a coincidence, but twice? How do you do that?”

“As of three hours ago, I was still under the impression that my son never made it to term.”

“What?”

“Over sixteen years ago I was involved in a mission that put Ra’s and I on the same side. During that time, Talia and I entered a relationship that resulted in a pregnancy. Though initially ecstatic, she eventually led me to believe she miscarried the child and pushed me away. For what ends, I do not know, but trust me Jason, if I knew—” He paused, the hand that was not on Damian’s shoulder curled into a tight fist.

Father pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why she hid it from me then doesn’t matter. Why Talia wants him back now is important. Judging from Daniel’s records, he was adopted into the Fenton family as an infant and has since lived a seemingly normal life as a civilian. His adoptive parents, Jack and Maddie Fenton, are brilliant scientists and engineers focused on the field of paranormal studies. Eccentricities aside, they have zero connections to the League of Assassins or any other concerning parties.”

“So why now?” Dick asked, shifting his concerned gaze from Bruce to the static picture of Danny’s tired smile. “Why, after all this time, decide that now would be the best time to recover him?”

------

Danny’s experienced plenty of rude awakenings before, but waking up at the ass-crack of dawn to avoid his kidnapper-slash-assassin-slash-biological-mom launching a surprise attack takes the fucking cake. He can’t believe he’s saying this, but thank god for all those late night ghost attacks that conditioned him to be a light sleeper. And, of course, the League’s insistence that everyone be in optimal condition regardless of how little sleep you actually got.

Danny kicked Talia off of him, ripping his blanket away before scrambling to his feet. Seriously, if the universe decided to spontaneously give him powers again, he’d really like an upgrade to his ghost senses, please and thank you. Something that works on humans and not just ghosts. Like spidey-senses. He’d really, really like some spidey-senses.

“Your reaction times have improved considerably,” Talia said.

He eyed the katana sheathed beside his bedroll. “Thanks. Who could have guessed that constantly challenging someone to a spar in the unholy hours of morning would make them paranoid to sleep too much? Really, how am I supposed to grow taller at this rate? ” If he could just get it--

She smiled, taking a step forward. “Prepare yourself.”

“Heh.” Danny stepped further away from Talia, keeping his back to the mouth of the cave. One hand stretched in front of him and the other, coated in a green light, was kept hidden behind his back. “Am I actually gonna get some answers today?”

“Let us make it interesting. Last 10 minutes against me and I shall tell you more about your brother.” Talia twirled her blade. “If you happen to draw blood, you may ask any one thing of me.”

“Anything?”

“Within reason.”

His face caught between a grimace and a smile. He’d rather be sleeping right now, but if he had to be awake, then he’d better make the most of it. “Deal.”

Talia’s smile dropped. She veered her body to the right, barely dodging the streak of bright green that whizzed from behind her. The ectoplasmic energy that surrounded the katana bled away as the handle connected with Danny’s outstretched hand.

She quickly glanced back at Danny’s bedding. Beside it lay an empty sheath. “You have telekinesis?”

He shrugged. “It comes and goes.” Yeah, no way was Danny gonna admit that seven-out-of-ten-times he forgot that he had telekinesis. Besides, that shit was hard to do when he wasn’t Phantom.

“A surprise attack from behind is a sound strategy, Daniel. Though it’ll take a lot more than that to harm me.”

Danny pointed to the side of his cheek. “Are you sure about that?”

Talia frowned. She reached up to her face. Her fingers brushed against her cheek and came away with a thin streak of blood.

Danny grinned, pointing his blade at his opponent. “First blood goes to me.”

------

Fact: most fights don’t last long. An average street fight could last anywhere between 25 to 40 seconds, and sword fights rarely last over a minute. Like Talia said, the goal of a fight was to end it with as few injuries to oneself as possible. Humans, even the most skilled ones, can rarely last long in a fight. Prolonged combat is suicide; it makes you tired, makes your muscles heavy. It’s nothing like what Hollywood would have you believe.

Even with Danny’s own enhanced stamina and Talia holding back, he couldn’t last a full ten-minute spar. If Talia didn’t finish him within twenty-five seconds, then he’d fall by his own human limitations.

But the goal wasn’t to spar continuously for ten minutes.

He only had to last that long.

Danny sprinted out of the cave. The sun barely peeked out of the horizon, a thin line of deep orange breaking apart the wide expanse of blue-black sky above. He couldn’t see shit; great news since that meant there’s a good chance Talia couldn’t either, but that doesn’t fix the fact that he can’t see.

Nearly stumbling on the ice, Danny veered to the left. The edges of the lake stopped at towering rocks twice Danny’s height, leaving little room for cover. Though if he remembered correctly, there should be a few crevices here and there to hide in.

“You’ll have to be faster than that, Daniel.”

Shit—

Danny stopped. He brought his sword up to parry Talia’s strike and twisted away, putting distance between them.

Well, so much for just avoiding her for 10 minutes.

He adjusted his grip, keeping his sword steady and eyes trained on Talia as they circled each other. Danny lunged with an overhead strike. Talia used one hand to block the downswing by gripping his wrists. She thrust her sword forward, the tip harshly poking Danny’s abdomen.

“Less than three minutes.” Talia let his wrist go, Danny’s arms slumping to his sides.

He sighed as he sheathed his sword. “Damn, I thought I’d last longer than that.”

“You made a good effort,” Talia assured him. “Putting as much distance between us at the beginning was a good strategy. You recognized the win conditions immediately and attempted a battle of attrition.” She placed a hand on his shoulder. “I am very proud of you habibi, especially as you managed to draw first blood.”

A warmth grew in Danny’s stomach at the words, heating his cheeks. Sheepishly, he scratched the back of his head. “I wasn’t entirely sure that would work, honestly.”

“It was clever; half a second later and you might have even killed me. You are an al Ghul through and through” She brushed his hair out of his face. “What would you like as your prize, then?”

Danny’s heart clenched. He frowned, dropping his arm to his side. If I was such an al Ghul, then why didn’t you keep me? The question lodged itself in his throat, stifling his thoughts. It was something he’d been wondering for a while, actually, in the moments of solitude he had at the compound. Talia, during their training, would always remark at his potential. How talented he was, how adaptable he was, how much greater he would have been if he had been trained at a younger age.

Well then, why wasn’t he? Why did she give him up?

But each time he tried to ask, his tongue would turn to lead and the moment would pass, the question still left unsaid and simmering at the back of his mind. A Pandora’s Box that held none of the world’s evil but all of Danny’s possible shortcomings.

He could ask the question now.

He could.

He didn’t.

“Why did you take me?”

Talia tilted her head. “It is because you’re my son.”

“No. Not that. It has to be something more than that. You had sixteen years to come back for me—or, hell, you could have just never left me.” His breath hitched, fingers mussing his hair and hiding his eyes. “Why else did you take me?”

“It is true that there was more than one reason why we decided to retrieve you from Amity Park. One of which is because you are my son and an heir of the Demon’s Head.” Talia stilled. The dark skies of dawn made it impossible for him to read her. “The second reason was to protect you.”

“You kidnapped me…to protect me?”

“Knowledge of the ghosts of Amity have spread through the more insidious parts of the world. There are many out there who would pay exorbitant fees to study one of you or to use you.”

Use him? What did she mean by—

Oh.

Ghosts—Amity Park’s brand of ghosts—were a new element that the world had to contend with. Amity Park might have a crime rate of zero but that wasn’t the case everywhere else. Theft, assault, murder; the world was rampant with crimes and criminals clawing their way to the very top. Having ghosts, even ones with the most basic powerset, would be a huge advantage.

“There’s no way that would work,” Danny insisted. “Most ghosts just want to be left alone, and the ones that want to wreak havoc would never work with humans. The only reason they even work with halfas like me at times is because they still consider us as ghosts.”

“If my sources are to be believed, ghosts might not even get a choice.”

Danny’s blood curdled in his veins.

No.

Someone’s found a way to control ghosts.

[themaribatpit]

Jasonette July Day 1: Suit Up

EDIT: Written by The Maribat Pit Content warning: Swearing, there is a quote that is a reference to Titans!Jason, references to Chloe’s actions in “Battle of the Miraculous”. Rated: T Inspired by: that one Tumblr post that suggested what would happen if Jason used a Lucky Charm.   Prompt: Suit Up The kidnappers had Marinette, and Jason knew that desperate times called for desperate measures.  Marinette hadn’t returned home from her mission the night before, Plagg returned that morning without her.  He explained that Marinette had managed to free most of the kidnapped kids, but she was captured shortly after being depowered.  They assumed she was one of the kids that hadn’t managed to escape. 

Jason went from slightly worried to absolutely frantic.  Roy was still in rehab, and there was no time to call in the Bat clan for help, it was up to him.  In his mind, the more time they wasted, the closer she came to sharing his fate.  “Great, just fucking fantastic”, he muttered to himself “the bad guys have the girl you love and you’re here looking for her jewelry”.  If he went in guns blazing as the Red Hood, they would probably just kill her instantly and without a second thought.  That being said, she would probably kill him later for tearing through the apartment like this.   He was flipping the bed on its side, opening all the drawers and pulling out all of the contents.  He was trying to find the Chinese Miracle Box, thinking maybe someone in there would help him if it meant saving their Guardian.  He remembered a conversation they had when his curiosity about her powers got the better of him.

“So what if you were to, hypothetically, use several of these things at once?” He remembered asking.

“I did once, the Multimouse clones were using different fusions.  Wearing them all at once can be pretty draining, even the fusions can be pretty taxing at the best of times if I’m not careful” she explained.

She also explained what happened when her old classmate tried to put on various Miraculous at once and started demanding power from them. Suffice it to say she didn’t get her way.  So, by the sound of things, Tikki was his best bet, or he’d probably end up pissing off the other ones like Chloe did.

He found the box in her closet and opened it, to find that Plagg’s ring was missing and so were Tikki’s earrings.  He closed the box and pushed it back into the closet, before searching the room for the earrings.  She had said something before about Plagg and Tikki being the least suspicious of him.  Probably because their combined magic was what created the Lazarus pits, the very reason he wasn’t still six feet under.  He finally noticed the small red and black box sitting on the chest of drawers, and he popped it open to find the earrings inside.  He wasted no time putting the studs in one ear, before a pink ball of light appeared in front of him. The ball of light turned into Tikki who gave a little stretch and yawn before being startled to see Jason instead of Marinette in front of her. “Hey Tikki, sorry, no time to explain but Marinette’s in trouble” he spluttered, “please I need your help, I wouldn’t be asking otherwise”.

“If that’s true, then there’s no time to waste, let’s go!” Tikki exclaimed, “Just say the words and I’ll help you.” Jason’s mind suddenly drew a blank, as he tried to remember what words Marinette used to transform into Ladybug.  

“Bug Prism Power Make Up?” he tried.

“He doesn’t know the magic words?” Plagg asked slyly, “our Guardian’s life is on the line and he doesn’t know the magic words”.

“I know that you’d make a nice chew toy for Brutus”, Jason snapped as he tried to think.  “Go go Lucky Charm?” he tried, Tikki shook her head.

“Lucky charm usually comes a bit later” she rubbed the back of her head, “keep trying, if Marinette is in trouble, then she needs our help”. 

“Okay let me think, uh…It’s Magic Time? Ladybug Up? In brightest day, in blackest night...?” He kept throwing out suggestions, but Tikki continued to shake her head.  “Uh, Shazam?” he had to give that one a try at least once, Tikki sighed.

Tikki thought it was admirable watching him at least trying to figure it out, even if Plagg was no help at that moment.  It was clear to the little Kwami, she didn’t need to look that hard to know that this boy cared deeply for Marinette, even if he was hesitant to admit it at first.  Tikki remembered gently encouraging Marinette to confess her feelings towards him, while Roy and Jason’s brothers took a more…direct approach.  

“All right Jason, I’ll tell you the magic words but first,” Tikki told him and they both heard the Kwami’s stomach growl, breaking the awkward silence in the room.  Jason remembered why Marinette usually kept a cookie on hand whenever she brought Tikki along, while the faint smell of cheese usually meant Plagg was in tow instead.  

“Come on, let’s go get you a cookie” Jason said, “and some cheese for you” he shot Plagg a slightly irritated look.  As Jason looked around the kitchen, the only cookies and cheese they had were the cheap stuff.  Tikki tried to be polite about the fact that the oreo wasn’t going to cut it, Plagg just turned up his little cat nose at the processed American cheese. “Sorry Tikki, Marinette’s been a bit busy lately,” he told her before rounding on Plagg “what’s your problem?”

“You don’t happen to have any camembert, do you?” he asked, still refusing to even look at the slice of processed cheese.

“Camembert? Who was your last user?” Jason asked incredulously.  Desperate times were calling for even more desperate measures, “just hang in there Marinette,” he thought.

Jason wouldn’t be racing over to Wayne Manor if it wasn’t a dire emergency. Tikki was safely tucked away in his jacket pocket, while Plagg was clinging to the hem of his jacket as it billowed behind him.  Jason brought his motorbike to a stop just outside the gates, before hopping off darting past Damian, petting a sleeping Alfred the cat in his lap.  Right now, he was hoping Alfred the human was baking something that would catch the Kwami’s eye.  Sadly, he was not, a note on the kitchen door explained he wouldn’t be back until tomorrow.  Sadly, this couldn’t wait until tomorrow.  He opened the kitchen door, the cookies from Alfred’s last batch were stored in a cookie jar on top of the fridge.  There was one cookie left, he unzipped his pocket and gestured to the cookie in the jar.  Jason reached up and grabbed the jar, before opening it and grabbing the cookie inside.  He also reached into the fridge and grabbed the camembert for Plagg.  With the Kwami munching on their snacks of choice, he dashed out of the kitchen. Plagg had practically inhaled the wheel of cheese all at once, and glided alongside him. Meanwhile, Tikki clung to the cookie with one hand and the hem of Jason’s pocket with the other. 

That morning, Bruce was not expecting to see Jason rushing past him.  He wasn’t expecting to see a half-eaten chocolate chip cookie threatening to fly out of his jacket pocket.  “Hi, can’t talk now, Marinette needs help, bye.” He called before disappearing down the hallway. Jason dashed past Dick who had just woken up, and Tim was on his way to the kitchen for some more coffee. 

“Was that the last cookie?” Dick asked, slightly groggily.

“Oh that had better not be the last cookie” Tim groaned, someone had better be dying if that was the case.

Jason rushed to his motorcycle, and slammed the gate shut behind him before hopping on and putting on his helmet. Tikki was halfway through munching on the cookie, when she gave him a quick rundown of the powers that she would be giving him.  Jason knew that the Miraculous granted the user enhanced speed, strength and endurance, he just hadn’t thought there would come a day when he would have to use their power.  It was probably for the best that their guardian didn’t choose him when he was 13, for reasons that a bunch of guards were about to find out very soon.

Meanwhile, Marinette found herself in a cage inside a warehouse.  There were two men guarding the cage, neither of them knew that Marinette was the girl in the black leather catsuit. They caught her just as the clock had run out on her powers, and they assumed she was one of the kids that had been captured.  She was a petite young woman, and they found her dressed in a polka dotted hoodie, shorts and tights.  She sent Plagg to go get help, and he had been gone for a few hours now.  She was getting increasingly antsy,  Jason was probably worried sick about her.  

Jason arrived at the suspected gang hideout as fast as could, leapt off his bike and grappled to a vantage point. “Ok, relatively small time trafficking racket. Now where is Pixie Pop?” Jason thought to himself, scanning the area from his vantage point. “Plagg, go find Marinette, and tell her to not transform until I arrive.”  Plagg flew out of Jason’s pocket and made his way there.  “Alright Tikki, what's the magic word?” The Kwami flew out of Jason’s pocket as he spoke, Tikki glided to Jason’s ear and whispered to him the phrase. Jason repeated “Spots On” and felt power coursing through his veins. It felt like Venom without the addictive or berserk tendencies, pure energy was flowing through him. He felt the uncontrollable urge to pose and move with the flow of energy, doing a flourish of kicks and punches.  It ended with him raising his left leg to his head, as if it was a vertical split and slamming it down. “Owwwwwwwwwwww” Jason groaned, “My thighs were not meant to do that.” He was not expecting the compulsive flourishes for the transformation itself.

Jason looked at his reflection in a nearby puddle, he could see he was wearing a full spotted suit and domino mask like Ladybug, yet his leather jacket stayed during the transformation and received its own ladybug pattern. Jason sucked up the pain and pushed onwards to the gang hideout.

Jason snuck in through a vent and approached a large main room, housing most if not all of the guards and their “merchandise” with cages strewn across the room with mostly women and children locked up. He finally sees Marinette, alive but imprisoned in a cage with a few other people in a corner. Jason needed a distraction so that Marinette could transform into Lady Noire. He had to do something to take the attention off every single person in the room. 

Jason sighed and thought of a plan, it may not be the most flattering, but it worked and it would not be so threatening as cutting out the lights. He burst from the air vents and landed in a crouch, standing straight and shouting “Halt Evildoers, it I...Red Bug?” 

This indeed worked as planned, as every guard, goon and hostage set their eyes on the intruder.  The guards began pointing and laughing, “Good, they don't think I’m a threat” thought Jason. The guards underestimating Red Bug was what he needed, so that they would not find him threatening or harm anyone just yet. 

Marinette took this opportunity to transform into Lady Noire. She wasted no time and began with Cataclysm, bringing down all the cages and making her way to Jason’s position. Both Lady Noire and Red Bug began fighting the guards, buying the hostages time to make their escape. As the last person successfully escaped the gang hideout, both Lady Noire and Red Bug stood side by side.  More of them began to trickle in as they heard the commotion and began to surround the pair.

Marinette needed to think fast, she didn't have much time left after casting Cataclysm. She said to her partner, “Lucky Charm, Now!” Red Bug raised his eyebrow, “Lucky Charm?” he repeated. He suddenly felt the same compulsion as he did during the transformation, his arm suddenly shot upward with the yo-yo spinning. He looked up to see a swarm of ladybugs converge to form...a purse? Red Bug caught the purse with a look of disbelief, Lady Noire looked around the room for a plan to use the purse. Lady Noire got a burst of inspiration and turned around to tell her partner of her cunning plan, only to be greeted by thin air. She was brought out of her stupor hearing her partner yell out “LIGHTS OUT BITCH!”.  She whipped her head towards the source of the noise to see Red Bug beating the guards with the Ladybug-themed purse.  “I guess that works too” she said to nobody in particular. Knowing she had little time remaining as Lady Noire, she started running for the exit. Red Bug had no issue dealing with the remaining goons. Marinette hadn’t expected Jason to suit up with one of the Miraculous, not that she was complaining.  She had expected him to come charging in as the Red Hood, or maybe start by picking off the guards one-by-one.  She was surprised, but it wasn’t an unpleasant one, mostly.  Since leaving Chat Noir behind in Paris, the fight left her feeling oddly nostalgic.  Sometimes she missed fighting alongside a Miraculous user, though Tikki might have something to say about his...unusual use of a Lucky Charm.  She walked over to Jason’s parked motorcycle and waited. Within minutes Jason followed suit and walked out the front door of the hideout.  A swirl of green light surrounded him as he changed back, and Tikki zoomed over towards Marinette.  Tikki nuzzled against Marinette’s face for a moment, before Jason walked towards her.  He pulled his girlfriend into a big hug,  Marinette is left breathless for a moment as he nuzzles into her neck.   He didn’t say anything, but neither of them really needed to say anything at that moment. Touched by how much Jason cared for her, Marinette returned the hug. She stayed in that warm embrace for a long moment, before reaching up and gently patting him on the head.  “Let’s go home...Pixie Pop.” Jason pulled away at the mention of the nickname he gave her, and before she could react, Jason began pinching her cheeks. “What did you call me?” Jason jokingly interrogated, while Marinette giggled like an idiot. EXTRA: Jason is sitting next to Dick and Damian in the Wayne manor lounge with two ice packs on his thighs Jason:  I don’t know how you do it Dickie, my thighs were not meant to do that. Dick (covers Damian’s ears): Soooo did you and Marinette…. Jason:  I literally beat up some guys with a purse today, don’t push me.

[ur-favorite-queer-queen]

Second Chance

For Maribat March day 12 theme second chance

Master List

Sometimes Marinette really wished Penny and Jagged hadn’t adopted her. It’s not that she didn’t want to be a Rolling-Stone, no that wasn’t it. In fact, she was grateful that they had saved her from the horrors that Paris now held for her. It’s just they dragged her to stuff like this, some rich man’s gala. 

She had slept for a full 12 hours after finishing Penny’s dress, only to wake up to the news she was coming with them. She probably should’ve seen it coming. Although she was hoping this would be one of the lucky cases where she didn’t have to go. Despite her protests they insisted she needed to interact with other humans who weren’t serving her coffee. In Jagged’s words, “Who knows, you might make a rock n roll friend!” 

Now here she was, in her black and purple dress that matched Penny’s and Jagged’s outfits. Letting a bit of her anxiety out as she fiddled with the strap of her matching purse. Watching her parents mingle with the rich folk while she stood off to the side. Every once in a while they would cast her a ‘go make a friend’ look but it never bothered her, she just needed to wait until they stopped turning to look back at her.  

After about 10 minutes they stopped, perfect. She casually asked a waiter where the bathroom was and made her way there. Once inside she slipped off the pearl anklet that was Daizzi’s miraculous, letting the kwami make her way into her purse, before pulling out a familiar nose ring. Now that Jagged and Penny were letting her do her own thing, she could go back to scaring people into not socializing with her. While she would’ve loved to keep Daizzi’s miraculous on so that it could combat Stompp’s miraculous side effects, she learned that it took too much energy to do so. And she didn’t want to explain why she was so tired after the gala if she wasn’t talking to anyone. 

She schooled her features before making her way back out sending a cold look to anyone who tried to come up to her. She pulled out her phone only to see that 2 hours had passed, she still had 4 more to go. Time was moving much too slowly for her liking. 

A clearing of the throat brought her out of her thoughts. She rolled her eyes, putting her phone back in her purse, getting ready to glare at the person who was going to try to talk to her, only to stare in shock at the green eyes that were watching her. The same ones that had bumped into her just days before. The same ones she had sworn she probably wouldn’t ever see again. 

Her mouth moved without her permission, again she blames Stompp, “You.” 

He smiled or maybe it was a smirk, responding with way too much amusement, “Me.” 

She once again schooled her features to look bored, but she’s pretty sure her eyes gave her away with the way he reacted, “What are you doing here?” 

Just like before it took him a moment to reply, his smirk growing just the tiniest bit, “I’m always invited to these things, I’ve never seen you before though.” 

“With any luck this will be the last time you see me.” She remarked. She didn’t mean to be so rude again she blames Stompp but she really hadn’t expected to see him. To his credit he didn’t seem deterred by her cold vibe, if anything he seemed more determined. 

“Why would you say that?” 

“These types of things,” She waved her hand around, motioning to the room, “Just aren’t my thing. My parents make it look so easy, but I’ve never been one for this kind of scene. Plus I leave Gotham in a few days.” 

“Desperate to get out here?” 

“You could say that.” 

“Who are your parents?” 

She raised an eyebrow, “Wouldn’t you like to know.” If this was the game he wanted to play she would play it. Trying to find out who she was by asking about her parents, real subtle. Well Mr. Hot shot, she’s letting Stompp take the wheel now.

“You know, you make trying to have a conversation pretty hard.” 

She rolled her eyes at him, not even trying to stop them from rolling, “Who says I wanted this conversation?” It was a rhetorical question. She turned to leave only for him to grab her wrist. 

Suddenly she was brought back to that night. The night that changed everything. Three pieces of jewelry in her hand, two brooches one ring, her earrings 2 beeps away from her transformation leaving her. 

A pale hand holding her wrist, keeping her from running away. Green eyes and blond hair belonged to the owner of the hand. 

It had happened too fast. One second she was getting ready to run and detransform. Then someone had stopped her, she turned around to meet hungry green eyes. She froze as she felt lips pressed onto her own. It was only the beeping of her earring that brought her back to reality. A knee to the groin, and she pushed him off of her. Letting the police deal with the trio as she fled. 

She turned to the owner of the tan hand that was holding her back and could only register green eyes. She wouldn’t stand still this time. She twisted her hand so that he was forced to let go. A knee to the stomach had him holding his gut and as she raised her arm ready to punch him was when she finally registered that this wasn’t Adrien. It was just some weird stranger who was persistent in getting past her walls. 

She could hear people talking around her and when she dared to glance around they were all staring. She forced the embarrassed blush that wanted to grace her cheeks down, she wasn’t 13 anymore, she was 16 god damnit! Locking eyes with the mysterious yet persistent guy again, she ran. Ran until she found herself on a balcony, the cold air brushing her face as she gripped the railing. 

Why did she react like that? Why did she always have to be so aggressive? Why couldn’t she just let go of the past and take this damn nose ring off so she didn’t have to go and do stupid shit like this?  Why couldn’t she just be normal and let people in? 

Oh yeah, because she had a bunch of shitty friends that all turned on her because of a liar. The same liar turned her already neglectful parents against her. So Jagged and Penny got custody of her in order to get her out. Her parents didn’t even put up a fight about it, too busy gushing about precious LILA! And now she has major trust issues despite wanting to open and trust people again. Man, she is a wreck. 

“Hey, are you out here?” The mystery guy spoke from the entrance of the balcony. 

“No, I’m not.” She didn’t see the point in not acknowledging him, he could probably see her from where he was standing. 

“I’m sorry about earlier, you were obviously uncomfortable and I pushed your limit. So I really am sorry.” He apologized. 

“Yeah, sorry about kneeing you in the stomach. I thought…” She cut herself off, she didn’t need to pour her whole life story out to a stranger. He probably didn’t even want to know either. 

“It’s okay, I deserved it.” He made his way to the railing, he was a good distance away that she still had her own space, but close enough they could still talk. She relaxed a little thanks to the distance, resting her elbows on the railing. He leaned his back against the railing. They stood there in silence and Marinette decided she wouldn’t mind seeing this mystery boy again. Wait she didn’t even know his name. 

It seemed like he had the same thought since he spoke up, “I don’t think we ever introduced ourselves.” 

“We didn’t.” Damn her being so cold, she should probably take this nose ring off. So that’s what she did, took the nose ring off and placed it in her purse. Maybe this would be good for her. 

“Well, I’m Damian Wayne.” He stated, holding his hand out to shake. 

“Wait, Wayne as in Bruce Wayne? As in the Ice Prince of Gotham?” She questioned, shocked. 

“Oh, so you’ve heard.” He seemed a bit disappointed. 

“Yeah, but I won’t judge if you don’t judge.”

He raised an eyebrow at that before she continued, “My name is Marinette Rolling-Stone.” Now he looked surprised. 

“You're the elusive Diamond Stone?” He asked, disbelief made its way into his voice. 

“That’s what they’re calling me now. At first it was Sapphire Stone. Guess that’s what happens when I stay out of the media too long.” She chuckled a small smile making its way onto her face. 

“Wait, where did your nose ring go?” He looked around as if expecting it to magically appear. 

“I took it off.” 

“Why?” 

“Well at first I wore it to scare people off. People are scared of people that have piercings. I was thinking of getting a tattoo but I’m too young and they’re too permanent.” 

“Why would you want to scare people off?” 

“I have a complicated past. Sometimes putting your trust in someone takes too much risk, I tried to avoid it altogether.” She pulled her sketchbook as she wrote something down.

“Tried?” 

“Why do you think I’m talking to you?” She tore the paper out.

“You're putting your trust in me?” 

“No.” She quickly answered, “But maybe one day.” She handed him the paper and left. 

As she walked away she released a breath she didn’t even realize she was holding. Maybe giving people a second chance wouldn’t be such a bad thing. But right now she just needed to find her parents so she could head home. 

-

Damian hated galas. He hated having to talk to the stuck-up rich folk who thought they were better than everyone just because of their wealth. The girls who would try and flirt with him in order to gain his last name. And their parents who tried to push them together. 

Yes, he definitely hated galas. What made this worse was that his family wouldn’t stop teasing him about the girl who he knocked over that one time. Threatening bodily harm did nothing but amp up the teasing. It was times like this where he truly wished there was a not a no kill rule. If only to give Jason Todd some revenge. 

2 hours into the gala and he was already done. 4 girls had already tried to drape themselves over him and it took all his self-control not to hurt them. He was ready to storm out of this gala when he caught sight of her. 

The mystery girl he had bumped into days before. She was here, at a Wayne gala. Her outfit certainly looked the part of a rich socialite, She wore a long halter dress that flared out at the waist. It started out black at her neck before turning purple at the waist. The bottom of the dress had black music notes dancing across and she had a matching black and purple purse hanging off her shoulder. 

Her hair was down and she seemed to be wearing a little bit of makeup. The only reason he was able to tell it was her was because of the black nose ring that stood out against her fancy look. It looked so out of place compared to everything else. 

He watched as a man tried to approach her only to receive the same glare he had gotten days before, quickly moving on to someone else. Seems like he wasn’t the only one who didn’t want to be here. 

He made his way over to her, perhaps to give himself a second chance at a new impression. She proceeded to pull out her phone and look at something before deflating the tiniest bit. 

He cleared his throat to grab her attention, she looked at him with the same glare once again before her eyes took on a look of shock. 

“You.” She seemed surprised that she had stated this as well. 

He couldn’t help the smirk that spread on his face, she remembered him and still had the same spunky attitude, “Me.” 

Her features took on a look of boredom, but her eyes looked only curious yet cautious, “What are you doing here?” 

The fact that she didn’t recognize him as a Wayne was surprising. He thought that she was only in a hurry before that’s why she didn’t register it was him, but now he knew she truly didn’t know it was him. Perhaps he could use this to his advantage. “I’m always invited to these things, I’ve never seen you before though.” 

“With any luck this will be the last time you see me.” She said it with such confidence he felt inclined to believe. It was strange. He seemed to be the last person she wanted to talk to and yet he still wanted to talk to her. He didn’t want her to leave. So the next best thing is to get answers.

“Why would you say that?” 

“These types of things,” She waved her hand around to motion to the room, “Just aren’t my thing. My parents make it look so easy, but I’ve never been one for this kind of scene. Plus I leave Gotham in a few days.” 

Well that sucked for him. “Desperate to get out here?” 

“You could say that.” 

“Who are your parents?” Maybe he could try to get his father to arrange a meeting with them.

She raised an eyebrow, “Wouldn’t you like to know.” Nevermind. 

“You know, you make trying to have a conversation pretty hard.” He didn’t mean to say that, that was rude. 

She rolled her eyes at him, it looked like he was meant to see that, “Who says I wanted this conversation?” She turned to leave, but he grabbed her wrist. He didn’t want her to go just yet. He felt her freeze then tense when he touched her, her breathing became a little more forced, and she seemed to shake a little. 

Suddenly she twisted out of his grip and kneed him in the stomach. She raised her arm and looked ready to punch him. Her eyes looked far and distant and afraid. They seemed to refocus on him as she dropped her arm and glanced around the room. Of course, people were talking about them.

She locked eyes with him once more before running. He ran after her before his path was blocked off by Dick Grayson. “Damian what-” He didn’t get to finish that question as he dashed passed him, determined not to lose the one girl who wasn’t a stuck up brat. 

He thought he had lost her but then he heard someone taking deep breaths from out on one of the balconies. He was about to go up to her, but from the way she reacted to his sudden hold on her arm earlier, it was probably best to give a warning. “Hey are you out here?” 

He walked out onto the balcony. “No, I’m not.” She likely didn’t want to talk to him. 

“I’m sorry about earlier, you were obviously uncomfortable and I pushed your limit. So I really am sorry.” He apologized. Which was so unlike him because here Damian Wayne was apologizing to a stranger. The weird things she made him do. 

“Yeah, sorry about kneeing you in the stomach. I thought…” She cut herself off, it looked like she wanted to say more but wasn’t going to. 

“It’s okay, I deserved it.” He walked over to the railing, making sure he was a good distance away that she had her own space, but close enough so they could still talk. She seemed to relax a little thanks to the distance, resting her elbows on the railing. He leaned his back against the railing. He quite liked the silence, her company was nice. Oh god he didn’t even know her name.

“I don’t think we ever introduced ourselves.” 

“We didn’t.” She stated in what he was pretty sure was a cold tone. Maybe she wanted to stay mysterious, so he would just introduce himself. 

“Well, I’m Damian Wayne.” He held his hand out to shake. 

“Wait, Wayne as in Bruce Wayne? As in the Ice Prince of Gotham?” So she recognizes the name, not the face. Great.

“Oh, so you’ve heard.” 

“Yeah, but I won’t judge if you don’t judge.” Why would he judge her?

He raised an eyebrow at her before she continued, “My name is Marinette Rolling-Stone.” 

“You're the elusive Diamond Stone?” He asked, disbelief accidentally made its way into his voice. He couldn’t help it. She was claiming to be the adoptive daughter of famous Jagged and Penny Rolling-Stone. The girl that made Jagged’s stage outfits from scratch and managed to get the ferocious Fang, Jagged’s pet crocodile, to love her. The media could only ever get a hold of the back of her head, but those that had talked with her said she shined as bright as a diamond. Hence the nickname, Diamond Stone.

“That’s what they’re calling me now. At first it was Sapphire Stone. Guess that’s what happens when I stay out of the media too long.” She chuckled, a small smile had made its way onto her face. Sapphire Stone, he hadn’t heard of that nickname but he could always do some stalking research. That’s when he noticed. 

“Wait, where did your nose ring go?” He looked around trying to see if it had fallen off her face and she hadn’t noticed.

“I took it off.” 

“Why?” He was truly baffled. 

“Well at first I wore it to scare people off. People are scared of people that have piercings. I was thinking of getting a tattoo but I’m too young and they’re too permanent.” 

“Why would you want to scare people off?” That seems like something he would do.

“I have a complicated past. Sometimes putting your trust in someone takes too much risk, I tried to avoid it altogether.” She pulled out what looked like a sketchbook as she wrote something down. Wait what did she mean by ‘complicated past.’

“Tried?” 

“Why do you think I’m talking to you?” She tore the paper out of the sketchbook.

“You're putting your trust in me?” He asked, she didn’t seem like the type to trust people quickly.

“No.” She quickly answered, he thought so, “But maybe one day.” She handed him the paper and left. As he looked down at it he saw it was her number. There was a message attached below ‘My number. Maybe we can meet up somewhere before I leave.’ He certainly wanted to take that opportunity. 

He tucked the paper into his pocket and made his way back to the gala only to be met with his annoying family. By the curious look in their eyes they wanted to know what just happened. This was not going to be fun to explain. 

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Hi, I have not disappeared, just didn’t want to write for prompts 8-11. I was honestly going to do prompt 8 but then stuff came up and I didn’t have the time to write. I was also planning to write something for tomorrow’s prompt but then I found out I have something I need to do tomorrow so nothing for tomorrow either. Because I had a specific thing I wanted to write for tomorrow I’m changing it to fit day 14′s prompt. Which means it’s not going to be mega angsty like I originally thought was gonna be 14. You have escaped mega angst and now it will only be medium angst. 

On another note that was a bitch to write and edit. And the fact I had originally planned to write more for it baffles me. I feel like I left it kind of open ended so if you want a part 3 to what I have going on here go ahead and tell me. I’m still trying to decide if I should do a part 3 yet. For those who are confused today was a part 2 to day 6′s prompt, miraculous side effects. Go to my master list and you can find it. 

You can also see on my master list that there are days that are crossed off, which means I won’t be doing those days. I can’t do every single day if I want to still get decent grades. Why I skipped days 8-11. Sorry for that long explanation/rant. Also sorry for posting so late again. I do these things all the way to the last minute. Let’s see if I can break that habit throughout the month. Probably not but a girl can hope. Anyways hope you enjoyed. 

@maribatmarch-2k21 @birdiesthings @buginetye