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viccyfics · 11 months ago

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Meeting the Wayne family

Chapter: 1/?

Words: 1538

Fandom: Batman comics

Summary: Tim decides it's finally time for Bernard to meet his family officially as his boyfriend... One little problem the Wayne's can be a little hard sometimes and Bernard may discover a few secrets

Read here or on Ao3

Tim's heart raced as he watched Bernard fix his tie for what must have been the 10th time in the past few minutes, "Is my hair alright?" Bernard asked his gaze still on his tie in the mirror, "Yes" Tim chuckled "Just like the other thousand times you've asked".

"And the suit isn't too much?" Tim smiled and shook his head, "You look fine, I promise".

"Just fine?" Bernard questioned raising an eyebrow at the shorter teen sitting on the bed through the mirror, Tim rolled his eyes but his grin never faltered "You look very handsome", "That's what I wanted to hear" Bernard laughed though it was clear he was still nervous.

Today was the day Bernard would meet Tim's family… well not exactly but the first time he would meet them as Tim's boyfriend rather than just his friend, but even then he had only met a few of them in passing.

And let's just say Bernard was a little more than nervous but Tim had to admit he was too, his family could be a little much sometimes, what if they scared Bernard off? Or worse what if Bernard figured out they were Gotham's favourite vigilante family?

Tim glanced down at his phone as it lit up with a notification, "Taxi will be here in five minutes" Bernard's eyes widened as he realised he was running out of time to make sure he looked good enough to be in front of Bruce Wayne, luckily his parents had pushed the idea of always being perfect and presentable into his mind since a young age was becoming helpful.

"Pass me the folder please" Bernard quickly spoke gesturing to a large blue folder sitting next to Tim on the bed, its pages filled with photographs, newspaper clippings, notes in Bernard's handwriting and printed screenshotes containing everything Bernard could need to hold a solid conversation with each member.

"You don't need it, you'll be fine" Tim mumbled still handing it to the blond.

"It's not like I'm taking it with me just.." Bernard paused when he noticed the unamused look on Tim's face, "This needs to go perfectly" He said sitting down next to Tim "I don't want them to think I'm not good enough for you".

Tim's lips pouted slightly, his eyes fixed on Bernard's brown orbs "Do you love me?" Tim asked, Bernard stared at him unblinking "Of course! Do you think I don't?"

"Would you ever hurt me?" Tim asked not answering Bernard's question but still looking into his eyes, Bernard felt like Tim was trying to stare into his soul or weirdly analyse him.

"Never! Tim, what's going on?" His hands grabbed Tim's tightly, "Then you have nothing to worry about" Tim smiled watching the worry and confusion leave Bernard's face.

Tim leaned in making the gap between him and the blond smaller "I love you" "I love you more" Bernard whispered before completely closing the gap, his lips meeting Tim's, there was no urgency to it or force, just the slow loving embrace they often shared.

Pulling away with a small gasp Bernard looked down at the folder in his lap "You think I have time to quickly go through it again?", Tim let out a loud laugh and shook his head. "I'm sure Bruce isn't going to care if you know exactly which cologne he uses" "But what ab-" Tim cut Bernard off with a finger to his lips "Or his aftershave or whatever it is you want to try and have a conversation about, just be yourself and they'll love you".

Bernard's eyes flickered between the folder and Tim's face, "I'll give it a quick once over then I'm done" Tim frowned slightly but didn't stop him, "You have a minute. I'm heading down, I'll meet you outside".

Bernard couldn't help but feel like he was upsetting Tim but what if the Wayne's didn't like him? or think he was smart enough for their young genius?

flipping through the pages he had already had mostly memorised he made sure to check over the section about what not to mention that Tim had noted down for him.

"Bernard!" Tim yelled from the front door "Taxi's nearly here and you don't even have your shoes on yet!" Bernard giggled quietly grabbing his shoes from next to the bed and jogging down to where Tim was standing by the open front door, facing down the driveway phone in hand and his foot tapping against the step underneath him.

"I'm here". Pulling his shoes quickly on and joining Tim he realised how out of breath he was, maybe it was the fact he was so nervous and his heart had been beating so much already…or he hadn't quite recovered from their kiss yet.

"Is a taxi a good idea?" Bernard questioned causing Tim to look at him with a strange look on his face, "What are you on about?".

"We could walk" Bernard pointed out, "We'd be walked for about an hour since you're so slow" Tim pointed out "And it's not like we're at Drake Manor which is practically next door".

"But isn't it better for the planet?"

"Where's this coming from?" Tim asked puzzled by the odd questioning. "I don't want Damian to think I don't care about the planet" Bernard sighed rubbing the back of his neck causing Tim to burst out laughing, "You're so stupid I love you".

"How much do you love me?" Bernard asked blush on his cheeks as he reached for Tim's hips to pull him closer, Tim pretended to think for a moment, finger on his chin looking up at the sky before wrapping his arms around Bernard's neck, "Depends on how well this evening goes".

"I'll have to be on my best behaviour then" Bernard joked pulling Tim in for a kiss, Tim's hands coming up to play with Bernard's hair, the height difference making Tim rise onto his toes ever so slightly. "Are we spending the night?" Bernard asked pulling away slightly but enough to have his lips still against Tim's, "We can do if you want" Tim muttered connecting their lips again, his arms leaving Bernard's shoulders to drop down to Bernard's hands which were still on his hips.

A few short moments later a loud horn pulled them away from each other, out of breath and blushing as the taxi pulled up the driveway towards them.

"This is it" Bernard whispered nervousness coming back again, "We're doing this together" Tim smiled at him walking down the steps, his hand reaching out behind him for the blond to take.

The driver quickly exited the Taxi to open one of the doors for the teens once it had stopped, Tim thanked him before sliding in and pulling Bernard in with him, "You've got this" Tim said as the driver climbed back into the car.

"Doesn't feel like it" Bernard replied with a frown, "But there's no backing out now".

Tim shook his head lightly "Do you wanna make a game plan in case you want to leave a conversation?" The dark-haired boy asked, "Alfred would have no issue with us hiding out in the kitchen if we need to", "Sounds good" Bernard chuckled though not entirely joking.

Looking out the window Bernard could see all the houses and trees passing by, a reminder of the fact they were actually on their way, that Bernard would have to small-talk with the Wayne family and have a meal with them.

He had seen countless movies and read numerous books about this exact situation, but none had given him the preparation he needed, glancing over at Tim who was looking out his window, a small frown on his face, his eyebrows furrowed as he sat there in thought, his hands fidgeting in his lap.

He was doing this for Tim, and nothing was going to stop him from loving Tim and being a part of his life. He had to do this.

"We're here" Tim whispered turning to face Bernard, the blond's head snapped up, how long had he been watching Tim?

but Tim was right, the taxi was heading up the long driveway towards Wayne Manor.

"We've got this" Tim spoke mostly to calm himself rather than his boyfriend, "Yeah we do" Bernard pulled on a forced smile.

"If we can do this we can do anything" Bernard whispered to Tim as the car stopped in front of the entrance.

Tim nodded as he stepped out, "Anything".

Bernard had been in the Manor a few times before but those had either been for galas as a guest with his parents, or just to hang out with Tim and their other friends.

He let his eyes wander over the many widows on the front of the building, catching sight of a head of dark hair, dark skin and bright green eyes.

Damian Wayne.

Bernard lifted his hand to give a small wave to the young teen but he didn't reciprocate, turning and walking away from the window with just as much sass as Bernard was expecting.

"Whatever happens from here on out" Tim started "I want you to know I'm sorry for whatever happens and I love you".

#Batman #Batfam #Timber #Tim drake #bernard dowd #tim drake x bernard dowd #Fanfiction #Fanfic #Vic fics

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yangzhouman · 1 year ago

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long post about batman beyond because i have feelings

batman beyond is so damn bleak in the obvious ways and yet it goes all the way thru. like it initially positions itself as a story about how “keeping it in the family” just ends up with dead family members and the only way out of being eaten by generational trauma is to abandon the family structure. what bruce and terry have at the start is loose and resistant to definition even when others try (”your keeper’s here” and “who else could take care of his affairs? he has no wife, no children.” / “me. i could do it.” / ) and when they (meaning terry and bruce) eventually label it as an employer/employee kinda thing it feels fresh.

when you’re the best man for the job you can call your boss a bitch. and he’s not gonna be in your living room at the end of a stressful day. there’s distance. there’s employee rights. they both care deeply about their job and eventually about each other but there’s no guilt when the job gets in the way, because there’s nothing for it to get in the way of -- their relationship IS batman.

it feels un-familial EVEN WHEN the family metaphor gets pushed onto them. it’s important that bruce isn’t terry’s father; terry has a father that he loves, and bruce needs to come to terms with a more impersonal, wider guilt of being an ageing bat in a city that will never stop needing batman. when others do try to conceptualise whats going on with terry and bruce thru a family lens, it jars because that straight up isn’t the connection they have, and people can tell -- they’re just missing the context of both being batman.

it’s good! it’s really good! it turns batman on its head by looking at it as an ideological gap that people can slip into, rather than something that is handed down, man to boy, with a clear lineage and direction -- now it’s an analytical framework of vigilantism that is open to all who feel brave. widening batman up like this makes barbara’s relationship with bruce & batman a little more complex too, as she is distinctly not a wayne and does not see bruce as her father, but still stepped into a sort of shadow/partner role to the big bat (misogyny... she’s proto-terry in the context of batman beyond but why does terry get to be more? questions i know the answer to.)

imo batman beyond, when at its best, makes batman a possibility: a nebulous idea that centres around gotham and righteousness rather than an individual and his grief. it’s a way out for bruce in particular, who calls himself batman in his own head but has to come to terms with a new bat who has no debt with him in any way -- and he grows in that safe relationship. as an old man! he grows!

and then. and then. oh my god. oh my godddd dc falls to its old ways and terry becomes bruce’s biological son? he gets narutofied*? it is single-handedly the worst thing that has ever happened to me. there is no escape! batman is bruce wayne and can only be bruce wayne. it/he is a trap that absorbs anyone who comes near! batfam is a curse that infects and infects! i am putting up with it because i like batman beyond so much even with this. but god. what a letdown what a needless twist in a universe that already has MANY cloning stories and MANYYYYY biological heir stories

*this refers to uzumaki naruto from NARUTO who starts as a nameless orphan in a hostile world, but then discovers that he is actually the son of two very important people, which stands in opposition to the earlier story beats and makes him special in a way that i find very gross, as it cheapens the work that he has done as a character-in-story to carve out a place for himself in the narrative world, and shows a lack of commitment on the author’s part to challenging storytelling by relying on the tired shonen tropes of bloodline rights and inherited power as proof of character significance

#🐸#Batman Beyond #dc

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cloakedsparrow · 8 months ago

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I just mentioned Batman #456 & 457 in a coc mirecc list, and in that story, Tim powers through fear toxin as well. He's saving Batman, but isn't wearing the Robin uniform (he was still technically in training and was worried he'd hurt the image if he messed up). I know the age gap between them appears to have widened in the new comics, but back then, there was only a 2-e year difference between Tim and Jason. Meaning, with abfew years in-between the incidents and no clear look at the kid/guy's fave,Crane could question if it was the same kid grown up some.

So now I can't help bit imagine Crane, lying awake in his cell at Arkham some nights, trying to figure out if some people can willpower through fear toxin or if there's just this one little shit in Gotham who is somehow immune to it.

Jason overpowering fear toxin

Jason overpowering cheer drops

Jason overpowering his fear failsafe

#dc #comics #batman urban legends #red hood: cheer #batman/catwoman: the gotham war #gotham war #jason todd #red hood #batman #bruce wayne #bat family #Thoughts #gotham rogues #scarecrow #dr jonathan crane #tim drake #robin #tim wayne

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lazydoodlesandfanfic · 2 years ago

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Turning Into Jason (Bruce Wayne X Daughter!Reader) *PARENTAL

Characters: Bruce Wayne X Daughter!Reader, Jason Todd X Sister!Reader

Universe: DC, Batman

Warnings: Murder, attempted murder (both off screen) blood and violence, swearing

Request: Bruce's daughter killing someone in cold blood on a mission out of anger (they disserved it tbh) and bruce having to talk her out of becoming like jason. (She doesn't listen tho.)

Bruce had long learned about the complexity of having multiple children, and their relationships with each other; Dick seemed to get along with everyone for the most part, though he got along best with Tim and Duke, Tim, Duke and Cass got along quite well, as well as with Damian in a strange way, Damian mostly hid any actual preference or feelings behind a cold exterior, but as referenced earlier, he got along strangely with Tim, and he also had a rather healthy relationship with Cass. However, there were two odd ones in that group: You and Jason. Jason, being the second oldest, was always standoff-ish, had a temper and had never really gotten close to anyone in the family, always keeping a wall between himself and others, even more so after his resurrection. You were quite similar, though several years younger. By the time you joined the family, Jason had died, been resurrected, and was on speaking terms with the family again, and when he came to see his new sibling, you two immediately connected very similarly to the way that the others had connected with each other. At the time, this had actually made Bruce happy- a sort of reassurance that you had someone, and so did Jason. Someone you actually related to to help each other in rough patches.

Well, now that wasn’t the case. Honestly, Bruce blamed himself for not thinking about the fact that Jason- his wild child and the one who actively doesn’t listen to him and goes out of his way to kill criminals, was so close to his little sister, an impressionable teen who looked up to him and saw herself in him in so many ways. He should have talked to you- or Jason, about keeping you away from that side of Jason’s work, or maybe not have involved you in the vigilante lifestyle at all. Because you’d done it. You’d crossed the line. You killed someone.

Bruce wasn’t sure what to do, in all honesty. You had been out on Patrol unsupervised, and it was a busy night so it took a moment for anyone to realised you hadn’t checked in for a while, and then they couldn’t get ahold of you, leading to your father going to search for you, leaving strict instructions to hold off on telling Jason, knowing he’d kick off and go full guns blazing, and he was glad they’d listened. He was able to trace your steps, and soon found you heaving for breath, sat against a wall in an alley, covered in blood with a distant look in your eye. Bruce immediately presumed you were hurt, in shock and struggling to process anything. Then he saw the body further down the dark and damp snicket, not moving in any way. He went over to the man, confirming he was dead- with a cut to the throat of all things, the weapon- a batarang- nearby. Bruce picked up the weapon, turned back to you, walked over, grabbed your arm and heaving you up, and pulled you home, where you were now.

You were still in your vigilante attire, though the mask was off, and you hadn’t moved from the chair that your father had sat you down in. He didn’t know what to say and where to start. He wanted to yell at you till his voice was hoarse, asking, begging, demanding that you give him answers to what happened and what led you to that point, but then he remembered how he did that to Jason, and how it only widened the gap between him and his second eldest, contributing to the domino effect that led to his death. He’d grown from that, at least he hoped he had, and he tried to prove that by waiting to gather himself in some way, promising that he was going to do this right this time, but he didn’t know what the right action was yet. He didn’t want to give you in, and your actions since he had found you had made him believe something happened that you hadn’t told him yet. He needed to talk to you. Alone. No Jason, no Alfred, no one else. He pulled a seat up, sitting down and facing you, arms resting on his knees. You were sitting back in your seat, arms flopped in your lap, head low, an almost dead look behind your eyes, not really looking at anything. “Y/N?” He called your name, and almost immediately your eyes looked up at him, meeting his own. “I don’t think you need me to say that I’m not happy about this. At all. You know we have a no kill rule, and for good reason, so you better have a pretty good reason.”

You didn’t answer him immediately. Instead, your eyes wandered down to your hands, still covered in the man’s blood, though no longer wet, and now soaking moisture out of your skin. You lightly picked and pulled pieces away from your skin. “You know those murders happening?”

“You need to be more specific.” Bruce hated that he had to say that, but it was true. Murder was daily occurence in this city, no matter how hard he tried.

“There’s been a series of murders on young women in that specific area. I always like to note down every case across the city just in case I notice a pattern and a link and… I found one. All the victims have similar appearances, similar age, and were killed in similar fashion. All were different from the usual attacks, and I realised it might be a serial killer…”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“I wasn’t sure. I didn’t want to jump to conclusions and be completely wrong and cause panic. I actually hoped I was wrong and none of these cases were linked, but… I decided to gather more evidence first before showing it to you. I went to investigate the location of where one of the women was found and… he showed up while I was there. I was looking for anything the police missed or left behind, and he came up behind me and-”

“What the fuck happened?”

The voice interrupted your explanation, and both yourself and Bruce became tense, knowing who that voice belonged to. Jason. He came rushing out of the elevator from upstairs, practically shoving Bruce to the side to look at you, ripping off his helmet so you could see him properly as he examined your hands, and then the blood on the rest of the clothes. “It was an accident. He was gonna kill me. I didn’t know what else to do.” You started to crumble so easily now that he was there, and Bruce watched as you let yourself immediately break down, becoming vulnerable and showing all your weakness in the presence of your big brother, who immediately made you feel safe with a soothing shush and pulling you into his arms as you started to sob. He got his answer. He now knew what happened. He of course still wasn’t happy it happened, but… He understood.

“You did the right thing. You shouldn’t feel bad for defending yourself, you hear me?” Jason assured you. You nodded, sniffing as you pulled away, but still leant forward to be close to Jason, who still remained knelt down in front of you. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you.”

“She went off by herself to investigate a possible serial killer.”

“Oh? You got a serial killer? That’s great! Do you have any idea how many people you’ve probably saved? Think about it. That’s pretty special.” Jason responded to Bruce’s little comment, being complimentary and keeping his voice low, calm and kind when talking to you still, though there was a dog whistle of a threat in there that Bruce heard loud and clear, backed up when Jason looked over his shoulder to glare freezing, deadly daggers at him, telling to shut up. “But you’ll still feel bad for taking someone’s life. That’s normal, it’s expected, and it’ll be hard to deal with, but I’ll help you, okay?” Jason promised, looking back at you. “Want me to stay over for a few days? Help with any nightmares?”

“Yes please.” You answered quietly. Jason nodded, standing up in front of you.

“Go take a bath, I’ll be up in a bit to set up a bed on your floor, if you need me, holler.” Jason told you, and you quietly and quickly walked to the elevator, head still low, still picking at your hands. The second the door shut, Jason turned to Bruce, and pointed to him. “Don’t you fucking dare blame her for what happened.”

“Jason-”

“You heard her! She was attacked by a killer. He was gonna kill her, and she had no choice but to fight back with whatever she had available. It was him or her, be glad your daughter’s alive. Imagine if you found her dead, not him. Could you live with yourself if you lost another one of your children to a murderer?” Jason questioned, not caring if his voice echoed through the cave, disrupting the bats ahead, because he knew Bruce needed to hear it.

“...I’m afraid she’s turning into you.”

“Oh don’t you dare.” Jason growled, sort of pacing in an infrequent manner without pattern around the man, who remained perfectly still, not moving except his eyes who followed his second oldest. “Don’t you dare compare her to me. She is so much better than me. I know I’m a cold hearted son of a bitch, but her? She gives a fuck about Gotham, she wants to do what’s right still, and believe it or not, she wants to do you proud, she still has hope. This… accident will change her. It might break her. I don’t know to what extent, but what she needs is her family backing her up, being there for her, not demonising her and having her compared to the black sheep of the family, essentially threatening to disown her for not dying for your pathetic cause!” He snapped. The words made Bruce flinch slightly, though he hid it by looking down and making it seem like a long blink. Deep down, no matter how much it hurt, he knew Jason was right. He still didn’t know how to handle situations like these. He didn’t understand Jason, and he didn’t understand you. But Jason did. And so, with great reluctance, Bruce spoke up.

“You know her best. What should I do? To help her?” He asked quietly, just above a whisper. This seemed to be the right answer, snuffing out Jason’s fuse, at least for a moment.

“When everyone gets back, you explain to them what happened. Carefully. You tell them how Y/N was attacked by a serial killer, and in self defense, killed him. You tell them how she’s clearly shook up by the event, because she is. You make sure they don’t see her as another criminal, because if she feels like the people who are supposed to have her back are turning on her for this… then she will turn into me, and trust me, no one wants that. Especially me.”

Hope you like it! If you have any questions, please send them in!

*Not my gif

TAGS: @freyathehuntress @courtneychicken @graysonmalfoy @bellero @originalpottervengerlock @supernatural-pan @esoltis280 @lady-of-lies @lenaswritingandstuff @macbetheliza @mandywholock1980 @cdwmtjb8 @caswinchester2000 @determinedpines @huntheimpossible

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imagine--if · 3 years ago

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Could you write something for keoghan!joker, maybe he finally meets his queenie face to face when they break out of Arkham? 😊

A/N: Last part of the Arkham Joker series thing I seem to have created 😂 hope you guys like it, I'mma keep writing imagines/headcanons for him so feel free to request more!

Pairing: Keoghan!Joker x reader (The Batman 2022)

Warnings: Violence, the Joker living up to his name, bit of a crazy reader, suggestiveness and SuPeR fluff near the end 😜🃏

Words: 835

The amount of anticipation you had to hold in for those few days was ridiculous. But it was well worth it.

It's early in the morning, early enough for the guards to be half-asleep and unfocused, the sun only starting to rise into Gotham's naturally gloomy skies. You know exactly what you have to do.

You creep over to the cell door, shuffling towards the small barred gap where the main lock is secured. Producing the lockpick, you feed it into the metal slit expertly. You know what you're doing. J made sure of it, long before Arkham.

It takes no longer than a couple of minutes to hear a soft click, and you smile to yourself, grabbing the lock before it falls and tossing it onto your bed. That's one down. The others are easy to pull down and tug loose, and then the heavy door gives way. You slip out, quickly closing it again, before you glance at the number scribbled with green on the lockpick. It's where his cell is, right on the other side of the building. Typical.

It's dark in the building where the criminally insane are kept, making your job of sneaking around and staying in the shadows easier. You got to the cell as quickly as you could, but the door was already ajar.

A hand clamps over your mouth as someone pulls you back against a corner, muffling a gasp of surprise.

"Ssh, ssh ssh ssh..."

You roll your eyes, turning around to face the giggling maniac, grinning fondly at you.

"That's not fair, I was going to save you," you whisper-shout in mock annoyance, and his smile widens.

"Save me? Aw, doll, I can go back in and you can give it a go?"

"Do we really have time for that?"

"Nah, not really."

He grabs your hand, and he leads you down a series of corridors, into a guard's room, where emergency weapons for defence are kept. The guard that's supposed to be looking out is asleep in his chair, and you raise a brow incredulously. They're hardly guards, though. They're ordinary people who need a day job. Give it a year or two, and they could be the ones behind bars.

You grab a couple of guns, checking they're loaded, and the Joker glances at you from snatching a few of his own.

"If you run out of ammo, queenie, knowing you, you'll just chuck the gun at their heads."

You stop yourself from laughing before anyone can hear it. "Shut up."

The guns snap as they're ready to be fired, and J gives you a knowing smirk before you head out, shooting the unsuspecting guards and running back down the halls to the nearest exit. The alarm harmonises with the screams and yelling that are cut short by shots, and you do it all with ease, the rush making you grin as you watch the Joker bludgeon a guard who tries to fight back, roaring with hysterical laughter. One attempts to pounce on you, and you push him off, kicking him back and slamming his head against an iron door.

You sigh in satisfaction, pushing open the doors to the exit. The Joker beams, looking down in amusement and the body that'd smashed into the door.

"Mm, that's my girl."

You smile back, and he grabs your hand again as you both head over to the long, gothic gates, a few of his goons on-site to break them open. A car's waiting, too, and you're hurried inside before it speeds away. You laugh breathlessly as the Joker does, looking back at the ghoulish building as it gets smaller, chaos and alarms catching the attention of the people wandering around the streets.

"That was fun, huh?"

You smirk, nodding. "Definitely. So what now?"

"Ah, well when we're done, there's a new friend we're gonna meet. Likes puzzles, apparently. Meticulous..."

"Oh, the one Bat was stropping about?"

He giggles, nodding. "Uhuh. Sound good?"

You nod. "What do you mean, though, 'when we're done'?"

A roughish smirk makes his blue eyes twinkle. "What, you want me to talk you through it?"

Your eyes widen in realisation, and you burst out laughing. "Shut up."

"No, no, you asked," He chuckles. "It's been ages, hasn't it? Seeing you kick ass like that, dolly, it does things to me-"

"Shut up!"

"B-but why?" He laughs, pulling you closer to him from the spacious back seat of the large car, pressing sloppy kisses onto the skin of your neck. "We got all day, and all night... didn't you miss me like I missed you?"

"Course I did, J. I love you."

The last few words slip out before you can stop them, and you bite your lip anxiously, worried that you've said it too soon, put him off.

It does nothing of the sort.

He hugs you closer, humming as he plays with your hair from behind, murmuring something back so quietly you almost miss it.

"Love you too, queenie..."

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dairy-farmer · 2 years ago

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BruTim, DickTim, JayTim or DamiTim? You may choose only one sir

yoooo don't do this to me 😭😭😭😭😭😭

i could never just choose-

its brutim. the age gap, the mentor x mentee dynamic, the fact that bruce and tim were probably the most well-balanced and effective batman and robin, the fact that they're so similar??? in their upbringing, way of thinking, and just general disposition (even though tim and bruce both acknowledge that he's more social and likable than bruce had been at his age and even as he was as an adult).

in comics there is so much about their dynamic that's unexplored like there are several points where they have almost a flipped way of working (times where tim takes the lead, holds the authority, and is almost more of the parent in the relationship than bruce is (bruce literally called tim 'dad' as a joke in Batman: The Widening Gyre #3).

there's also a clear divide in how he treated tim vs how he treated dick in jason wherein in several iterations bruce didn't treat tim like a sun initially. he really had to warm up to it (granted that was because of jason's death but stilllll).

to me, i think they just have sooo much chemistry together and not just as a ship but together they're the most enjoyable duo in comics for me.

i know i rambled on for a little but lemme tell ya, the preference for brutim over the others is like 🤏 suuuuper close. depending on the time of day, weather i could really fall into choosing any of them but you just happened to catch me on a day where brutim was on the brain more than the others <3

#anonymous #asks #answered asks #brutim

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talzane · 2 years ago

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Bruce still becomes Batman, but when things get too rough, Danny comes out swinging the Creep-Stick. He's the inspiration for Harley having a bat, and they occasionally get into bat duels because they both want to be the only one with a bat.

Bruce is The Batman, Danny is the bat man.

Batman pressed a hand to his bleeding side where Joker's bullets had found a gap in his armor. His other hand activated the comm planted in his ear, "Agent A, prep the med bay."

"Bruce, are you hurt?" Came the enraged voice of his older brother Danny.

"I'm fine."

"You're shot, aren't you? I'm coming to get you. I'm not far away."

"Stay out of this."

"Look, I'm almost there, I even see that stupid clown car. Hang on."

Bruce's eyes widened, "Agent D, Joker's heading for his car!"

"Oh? Perfect," Danny's words trailed off with menacing laughter.

*******

Singing off tune, Danny hefted his bat, "I took a Louisville Slugger to both headlights! Slashed a hole in all four tires!" His off-key singing seemed more like narration as he beat Joker's car to pieces. "Maybe next time he'll think before--"

A metallic click echoed down the alley, "What do you think you're doing to my car?" Green hair atop bleached skin and a purple suit cackled the question to Danny.

Danny loosed his bat, which whistled as it spun end over end down the alley, impacting between Joker's eyes, "he cheats! Oh, maybe next time he'll think before he cheats...Gotcha, Froot Loop." The next seven meaty thwacks weren't on beat to anything.

I’ve been thinking of older brother!Danny and Bruce so much lately.

#How would having a feral over-protective older brother change Bruce Wayne?#older brother!Danny #danny phantom #bruce wayne #dp x dc

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princess-of-thebes-1995 · 2 years ago

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Choice of No Regrets.

(Bruce Wayne x Reader x Yandere Joker)

age gap bruce wayne x reader

Robert Pattinson as Batman. Barry Keoghan as Joker. Implied mentions of Yandere Riddler x Reader.

Bruce sat on the steps of the grand stairs of his mansion. The Riddler escaped and only Joker knows where he went. The same Joker Bruce went to for help when the Riddler kidnapped you and almost raped you on live chat.

Joker helped get you to Bruce's safe arms in exchange for a few pictures. Bruce found out Joker has a thing for you. Which was why he killed your father.

Bruce went to the Joker to interrogate him again. This time... Joker said he wants to meet you and talk to you... Alone.

Bruce feared that request the most. Poor you. Traumatized within a few days. Now, the ugly Joker wished to speak to you.

Bruce looked over your sleeping form on his master bed. He made you move in with him. He didn't let you go to school or your old home. It was too dangerous. Only the police knew where you were. No one else. You were naked from last night events. Bruce would come tired from work but you would stay awake and wait for him. He would either make love or be rough then sleep. Now, he could lose you too. He almost lost Alfred. The girl he loved.

Bruce placed his lips on your spine and you stirred slightly to wake from slumber.

"I am sorry. I need you to help me...

Joker wants to meet you."

Your eyes widened.

"for the sake of Gotham."

#robert pattinson #Batman #riddler #joker #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader

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internalsealpanic · 4 years ago

Text

Monster Monster

I wholeheartedly blame this pic for the existence of this fic. I just wanna hug him and ruffle his hair.

Summary: Parent Teacher Conferences are very scandalous.

a/n: This is actually one of my few fics where reading some of my previous fics will help. I highly recommend reading Of Midnight Smoothies and Murder Mysteries to get a better feel on Dick and Reader’s relationship but anything on the Dick Grayson masterlist works too. Special thanks to @littleredwing89 and @americasmarauders for proofreading. Thanks to @littleredwing89 and @batarella for help with the ending.

warnings: A slur is mentioned but it gets shut down. Also, swearing.

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

“Tt, stop staring at me.”

You bite back a smile and what was probably a laugh rising in your throat. “Hmmm, no.” You hum, carding your fingers through Damian’s curls. The corners of your mouth twitch into a frown when you feel an angry bump against your fingers. It’s dry and there seems to be no break in the skin as far as you could tell. You let a little sigh of relief escape you which has the unintended consequence of upsetting the gremlin in front of you.

Damian attempts to swat your hand away, snarling as he did. You grin at him, all sharp teeth and pettiness. You, being childish, do not take your hand away and instead ruffle his hair more. An adorably petulant pout settles on Damian’s mouth making the kid look ten-years-old for once. It takes everything in you not to squeal in delight.

“Unhand me. I do not require your mothering and you would do very well to leave the scolding to Richard or Pennyworth.” You can easily picture Alfred scolding Damian but Dick? You try to picture Dick, hand on his hip, trying his damndest to be mean to the kid but you just couldn’t. Sure, Nightwing can be terrifying, even Batman but Dick? Especially with a kid? Not even feasible. You snort openly, the noise echoing in the deadly silent room. The woman on the other side of the room sitting next to a boy with a faceful of bruises and probably a couple of chipped teeth glares at you. Specifically, the woman scowls at your arm, skin festooned with bangles of coiled serpent tails and glittering blades. You fight the urge to stick your tongue out at her. Instead, you tug a bit at your sleeves, baring the golden lines streaked with old gashes. A low humorless laugh escapes you causing her scowl to deepen.

Damian follows your line of sight. His face folds in utter contempt. The boy next to her flinches. Their size difference made this all the funnier. “[What did he do?]” you ask in what you hope are the correct words in Arabic. Damian crosses his arms not meeting your gaze. His leg kicks out, the restlessness thrumming in his bones. “[Your accent is atrocious.]”

Your mouth twitches uncontrollably, edging into a fond smile. You tamp it down with a click of your tongue lest the little demon tear your head off. “[I’m out of practice, child,]” Damian grabs at a space beside him only for his hand to close on nothing. Something inside you dies when you stop yourself from cackling. Thank goodness, Bruce has--had--the good sense to take the kid’s katana away.

“[Anyway, what did he do?]”

“[How are you so sure he did something?]”

“[Because you’re a brat but not stupid. You are by far the most annoyingly reasonable child I have had the displeasure of conversing with.]” Damian’s eyes widened in surprise. It seems the assumed hatred was mutual. You watch as he folds his face back into a glower, not quite fast enough to evade your attention but certainly fast enough to fool the untrained eye. Unfortunately for him, you’re used to the acrobatics of faces, the chaotic cacophony of microexpression. Most people in your life are, after all, awful at broadcasting their feelings even when it was sorely needed. This is probably why you gravitated to Dick so easily. The man believed in openness, in communication.

Distantly, you can hear the woman across from you tap her foot impatiently against the carpet. A flick of your eye tells you she was sneering at both of you likely eavesdropping (and failing) on your conversation. Why she needs to know what you and a ten-year-old with a stick up his ass were talking about you weren’t sure. Damian turns his head slightly towards you, angling his chin upward to mask the uncertainty in his posture. “[If you must know, he-]”

“Gypsies”

The syllables ring like a loud staccato of gunshots despite how quietly she’d hissed it. You freeze. You can feel Damian stiffen right beside you. Understanding flowed into you molten and bubbling. You feel your throat itch, unkind words coalescing into a lump in your throat. You turn your body to Damian who was now still but you can feel the anger wicking off him. You sling your arm over the head of the chair behind him drawing his attention back to you.

He arches a brow at you, challenging. The expression falters when the next few words leave your mouth.

“[You’re off the hook.]”

Principal Jameson is a nasally man. It isn’t his anything to do with his voice. Though, you would be remiss to say that his voice was pleasant. You’re actually half tempted to turn your bad ear on him, block out the words coming from him but that would negate the point of you coming here. His voice isn’t that unpleasant but his entire demeanor rubbed you the wrong way. You’ve seen jellyfish with more backbone than this man. Then again, this might just be a by-product of your presence. Dick, and several other batbrats, have helpfully informed you that you were in fact pants pissing scary to civilians. You would like to say you couldn’t see it but standing in front of this man it was clear as day.

“Y/n L/n,” you offer congenially. His shoulders ease a fraction but did not offer you a hand. You smother a sigh before offering an additional “I believe Mr.Grayson-Wayne had informed you that I would be coming in his stead to discuss this-” Shit show, your mind supplies but thankfully, your mouth was quick enough to bite it back. “- incident.” Beside you Damian scoffed. You stop yourself from kicking the kid because that really would not do.

“Yes, well, Ma’am your-” Jameson halts frankly unsure of your relationship to Damian because of course, Dick would leave the leg work to your socially allergic ass. You make a mental note to kick him later. “- charge.” you supply, feeling a modicum of sympathy for the drowning man.Your eyes flick to Damian. His face is impassive, ire still directed at the thirteen-year-old sniveling behind his mother. The term is too cold for your taste but as of right now that’s all you were. Maybe you’ve finally found a Robin you wouldn't get attached to.

“Well, ma’am, you see your charge, Damian, he’s punched another student and has yet to even apologize. He even started a full on brawl.”

“Mhmm, I see,” you drawl tilting your head. You feel Damian stiffen at the ease of your response. You don’t have to look at his face to know that he was glaring at you with something in his eyes withering from the betrayal. The woman across from nods agreeably as if you had said something sensible. Jameson for his part nearly sighs with relief. You click your teeth a little irritable from their responses but more fascinated than anything. ‘I see’ is barely an answer but they each filled in the gaps with their own assumptions. “And has that young man over there apologized for what he said to Damian? Or for the lump on Damian’s head? Surely, you sent Damian to the clinic as well.” you voice out looking as scandalized as possible.

The room froze.

Your eyes will probably roll into the back of your head before your meeting is done. Judging from Jameson’s posture, they didn’t. They should have at least checked if the kid had a concussion. A familiar sort of ire rose in you. Oh boy, you’re going to have a field day with these people. You sigh in exasperation before continuing. “Not only did you neglect to send him to the clinic to check on the lump on his head, but you were also planning to let the other boy off the hook?” you accuse, voice rising with some effort. Your voice has a tendency to draw low when your temper is flaring. It’s an intimidation tactic you'd learned from a while ago. It would probably be ill advised to use it on a man who looked like he was a second away from a heart attack.

Jameson leans forward, reaching out appeasingly.“Ma’am, we-”

“From what I recall, Gotham Academy has a strict zero tolerance policy on derogatory language, does it not?” You cut him off, voice suddenly vicious. You shift your body in front of Damian putting yourself between him and everyone else in the room. He bristles at the gesture but you and your habits aren’t exactly concerned with his pride.

“Ma’am I-“

“I rest my case. Please, feel free to contact Mr.Grayson-Wayne if you have more to say.” You settle a hand on Damian’s shoulder. You’re surprised he didn’t fight you or swat your hand away. Taking it as permission, you pull him closer to you as you leave the red faced woman and the paling man gob smacked and silent. Damian himself doesn’t make the sound as you made your way down the hall. You squeeze his shoulder gently hoping it comes across as a reassuring gesture. His posture does not loosen but you do not let him stray from you. You close your eyes as the elevator doors shut.

“I did not require your assistance.”

“I know.” Of course, he doesn’t. He is a Robin and an Al Ghul but that doesn’t mean he isn’t gonna get it. You drum your fingers against the steering wheel, the dull beat only serving to irritate your nerves. You swear the traffic in Gotham was somehow infinitely worse than everywhere else in the world even with working traffic lights. Maybe that’s why there were so many crazy people here. Maybe Bruce should have invested his money on better roads. Maybe-

Your eyes slide towards Damian who is somehow shrinking and pressing into the side door. Still, his face is twisted skeptically and braced for a continuation to your statement. You looked heavenward not even hiding the weariness in your smile. The brat is truly a bat-- suspicion and all. You turn your body towards him, opening up your posture. You fold your leg and rest your chin on your arm. Damian meets your gaze head on, looking imperious as he crosses his arms over his chest. His posture is artificial, probably uncomfortable from the weight of your attention.

You roll your shoulders and reshape your features, reconfiguring yourself from understanding to teasing. “I know. I know but you see, they needed telling off and your tiny gremlin ass isn’t scary enough. And, I promise I won’t tell Dickolas that you defended him so vehemently.” you wink, a conspiratorial grin spreading across your face. Damian straightens, his body is bowed like he was about to spring for your throat but the shape his limbs took on was more natural and seemingly relaxed. The knot in your shoulder loosens. You reach over and ruffle his hair again. He really is still a kid. You stare each other down. Your smile is as unwavering as his glower.

Both of your stomachs grumble. The sound was loud and abrasive in the closed space of the car. You check your watch and hum, shifting back into your seat. Wordlessly, you switch on your signal light.

You leaf through the pages of the thoroughly used book in your hands, eyes skimming through the blocks of texts not really absorbing any of it. You never really found the appeal in fiction. The stories are too neat compared to what you experienced daily. You suppose there is simplicity in them but you find that in nonfiction, the kind of books that explained the mechanics of things. They made sense of the world and were much more useful in your opinion. You’re much more interested in the messy scribbles on the margins, the etchings of a loud mind on yellowing pages. Jason’s notes were written in the same tone of voice he used when he spoke, deceptively layman but upon further inspection was frighteningly insightful. You smile at the little comments and complaints, the snarky little remarks. Remnants of the little boy he had been before. You frowned. You should probably give this back to him once you have the chance and maybe come up with some excuse of why you still have it. Or you can just keep it.

You look up at Damian who is drumming his fingers impatiently against the lacquered table. His posture is artificially relaxed, likely something he learned from the league or maybe all nervous gremlins do it. You look down at the book again. The sight reminds you of Jay. You tip your head, the loud thunk of your skull is felt more than heard since it was your bad ear that is pressed against the glass. The sound startles Damian who was deep in thought. You hold out the book to him. He must be bored waiting for your order. He pointedly ignores you.

"I don't need that childish drivel." He snipes. You click your teeth feeling a little defensive of the book.

You sound exactly like your grandfather, you think but have enough sense to keep it to yourself. No child needs to be compared to Ra's Al Ghul even if he is a brat.

"Not a fan of-" You look at the book's spine and frown. "-Robert Stevenson?" What kind of dork reads Robert Stevenson for fun? Oh wait, it's the same dork that quotes Shakespeare while bashing heads.

"I have no need for such things."

Of course, he didn’t.

"No, I suppose you don't need anything with the actual text but the margins are quite fascinating." You hold out the book to him again. His eyebrows shoot up looking at you skeptically as he reaches for it. There is no actual written indication that it was Jay's and the kid likely hasn't spent enough time with Jay to actually tell from the way it's written. You look out the window to turn your good ear to him, listening for any reactions he might have. Every now and then you hear a huff of amusement. You smother the smile threatening to form on your lips with your hand.

"Well, the person who owned this certainly had a lot to say." Damian says carefully, handing the book back.

"Jay really was a mouthy kid."

Damian looks at you, little face scrunching up in confusion. You suddenly notice just how easily the booth swallows him up. Why is he so tiny? "If this is Todd's, why do you have it?"

You clasp the book in your hands, your thumb tracing over the creases. "He leant me this book shortly before he died. He-- Well, I told him that I wasn't fond of adventure stories. I prefer books about science and culture. They're much more useful, yanno?" Damian gives a slight nod. You relax into your seat with his understanding. "Well, he thought it was just that I've never read a good one so he gave me this one. Never quite finished it though." you admit a little sheepish after realizing just how sentimental you felt. Your eyes trace over Damian's expression. It's clear that the sentimentality bled through your words and some childish part of you winces at the vulnerability of it. Damian says nothing and doesn't even sneer in derision.

You hum, the tune musical but offkey. “Jason, actually did what you did today awhile ago.” Just like that you begin down a rabbit hole telling the little gremlin about all the stupid shit the older bats have gotten into. And oh boy, there’s a lot.

“So do either of you want to explain what happened and why GAs headmaster called me sounding like he was gonna piss himself?”

“Hmmm, probably not ” you say around your spoonful of mahalabia, not even looking up from your book. Hilariously enough, Damian had also elected to leave Dick’s presence unacknowledged and busy with his own mahalabia. Dick scoot into your side of the booth, purposefully squishing you against the wall with a shiteating grin. He loops his arm around you and pulls you closer, planting a sloppy kiss on your cheek. You blanch and push half heartedly at his chest as he laughs. That laugh makes your heart warm and a relenting smile spreads across your features softening them. Your body twitches forward to kiss but you still when Dick freezes instead you plant a kiss on his cheek as well. Dick relaxes at the familiarity of it and you two settle down.

Damian stares at both of you befuddled. A heat creeps up your cheeks realizing that Dick is practically sitting on you. Dick, on the other hand, seems perfectly content with your current lack of personal space, so you leave it alone despite the incredulous look Damian is giving both of you. Dick snatches up your spoon taking a heap from your dessert. You make an offended noise in the back of your throat which he simply answers with another broad smile. Your lip twitches uncontrollably and your shoulders go slack.

“So what happened?”

You and Damian exchange a look. Damian rolls his eyes at you and you shrug at him performatively. “Nothing.” you two say in a chorus of nonchalance. It only succeeds in annoying Dick, so it was partially successful.

Dick pouts taking another bite of your desert. You stare in disbelief as the grownass man sitting next to you attempts to give you the puppy dog eyes as he eats your desert. You sign on exasperation because it's working and the bastard knows it. Richard John Grayson-Wayne is a manipulative asshole and you are a certified sucker.

You turn to Damian pleadingly begging him to please either help you or end you. Instead, he simply looks the two as if searching for an answer to a question forming in his mind. You run your hand over your face ready to concede when something clicks.

"Man-Bat got into GA and Damian fought him off." you say, praying Dick would catch on to the game. For a terrifying moment, he doesn’t. He blinks at you in confusion and your stomach sinks then a smile slowly spreads across his face lighting up every feature. Your heart swells at the sight.

"Bullshit. What was Man-Bat doing in GA?"

"Dunno,maybe bullying students. I don't know what bat creatures get up to." you say grinning. The picture becomes clear from every outlandish story. To your surprise, Damian joins in with a few vague details of his own giving even more details than you'd initially gathered.

Lunch passes pleasantly with outlandish stories and good food.

“NEWS: Dick Grayson-Wayne, New Face of Wayne Enterprises, Caught in a Torrid Love Affair with a Mystery Woman. Who Could this Exotic Beauty Be?”

“NEWS: Young Wayne Heir Being Extorted by Mystery Woman?”

“NEWS: Wayne Heir with Secret Family?”

Dick wants to evaporate somehow. He stares at the headlines mortified beyond what he ever thought possible. Maybe the floor will be merciful and it’ll finally swallow him as Jason reads another headline in a ridiculous newsreel voice.

“No, no wait. This one is fucking priceless!”

“Jason, please, I am begging you. STOP.” Dick whines, his face flattening against his work table. Tim shrugs, an amused smile adorns his face. Dick is going to scream. “Tim, please please please, make him stooop.” Tim ignores Dick in favor of scrolling through his own tablet looking, frankly unsympathetic.

“Oh a tryst!”

“Jason, you are making it sound so much worse.”

“Dunno, big bird, some of these make it sound like you fucked her over a table in the restaurant.” Jason watches in absolute delight as his older brother attempts to merge with the work bench, the tanned skin of his neck and ears burning a bright shade of crimson. Tim snickers, unhelpfully. Dick loved that his younger brothers were getting along for once. He just hated that for some reason they just had to be united against him. “All I did was kiss her on the cheek and eat her food.”

Jason gasps theatrically, feigning fainting. “Premarital kissing?! Dick, how could you? What’s next? Premarital hand holding? Think of the children.” Jason exclaims, dramatically pointing to Damian who at this point had been ignoring the ruckus Jason was causing.

“Jason, you’re awful and you’re being extremely dramatic.”

“Dick, you don’t exactly have any room to talk in that department.”

“Yeah, Mr. Pretty Man Down, Baby Bird has a point.” Jason says smugly as he offers Tim a fist bump which Tim reciprocates by shaking Jason's fist, a joking smile on his face. Jason snorts as if getting the joke or whatever movie reference this was from.

Tim's face folds into a barely held back smile. The laughter bubbling in the back of his throat straining his features. “I will say it is really funny that they didn’t recognize Damian.”

“You know how they are. They probably came up with something like the whole Damian being Bruce’s kid was actually just a cover up for Dick.” Somewhere in the background Damian makes a very displeased noise but Dick can't be bothered to lift his head to check.

“Please no. That doesn’t even-”

“Here’s one, NEWS: Dick Grayson-Wayne’s Baby Mama? Who is this mysterious woman?” Tim reads out flatly.

“The PR team is going to kill me. No, wait. Y/n is going to kill me first.”

“She won’t. She probably finds this hilarious.”

“How would she even find this funny?”

“Well, she does enjoy your suffering- Oh shit. This one might piss her off.” Jason clears his throat, sliding back into the newsreel voice. “DICK GRAYSON, HANDSOME PLAYBOY - WITH YET ANOTHER GIRLFRIEND - WILL HE EVER SETTLE DOWN?”

Dick is half tempted to throw his own tablet at the wall. What did he do to deserve this? You certainly don’t.

“Hey, at least, they called you handsome.” Tim laughs placatingly. It doesn’t work, of course.

Dick looks up at his little brother ruefully. “Oh yeah because the stuff about my looks was definitely the issue.”

“Well considering your morning routine...”

“I haven’t even been on a date so who are these other girlfriends?!”

“Well, me and Jason thought the same thing.” Tim shoots down sneering. When did his sweet baby brother turn to the dark side? Likely, Jason’s influence but deep down he knows Tim has always been capable of evil. Jason is cackling proudly.

“I don't see why you're concerning yourself with this drivel.” Damian says, swiping the tablet right in front of Dick forcing him to look up. Dick smiles at him wearily. “Dami, it’s a little hard when a photo of me kissing y/n on the cheek is plastered everywhere with weird headlines.” Damian tilts his head considering it but he shakes his head muttering something about pointlessness.

“Goddammit, Disco Stick!” The sound of your voice ringing out into the bunker sends their banter crashing to a halt. Dick feels his heart jump to his throat. He-- This was how he was going to die and for once he wasn’t sure he deserved it or not. You stand at the doorway haloed in bright light. At least, his angel of death would be the prettiest one, he thinks-- all the oxygen leaving his lungs.

Crumpled in your fist was a newspaper. Dick can feel his brothers take a step back as you draw near. Your footfalls were as steady as a pulse which made Dick’s own heart rate ratchet up. Your face is carefully impassive the way it always is when your anger was dosed with something else. Dick is sincerely hoping Jason is right about you being amused by the headlines.

You stop in front of him, eyes narrowed and jaw tight. You glower down at him frankly looking murderous before you snort and your face breaks into a smile. The thick tension in the air dissipates and the room releases its collective breath. The smile on your face grows even brighter. Nope, this is how Dick dies, his breath catching in his lungs as his mind fizzes out from the sight of your smile.

“I’m sorry?” Dick lifts himself off the table just barely, still bracing for any sudden wave of anger that will, justifiably, roll over you at some point.

You lean your body on to the spot next to him, letting the table support your weight. Straightening the newspaper in your hands, you frown. “I look terrible in this.”

“You look beautiful.” Dick blurts out. You raise your brow at him incredulously. Jason folds over trying to hold back laughter, his shoulders trembling. Tim just shrinks from second hand embarrassment.

“No, she is correct. She looks repulsive.” Damian says flatly as he snatches the paper from you.

You let out a breathy laugh. “To be fair, anyone would look repulsive next to professional pretty boy Dickie Wayne.” There was no sharpness in your teasing. You look at the photo over Damian’s shoulder. It was a cute photo actually. Dick’s arm loops around your shoulder as he gives you a kiss on your cheek as Damian blanches at Dick’s very public display of affection. It was hilariously easy to see where they got the idea that you two were a couple. You weren’t. You haven’t been for awhile. The thought wrenches something a dull ache inside you. You flatten your lips preventing the edges from dipping into a frown.

A look crosses between Jason and Tim. Tim leans over, asking in a hushed whisper, “I thought they were back together.”

“Dunno they act like it.” Jason shrugs watching your movement. As if to prove his point, you and Dick lean into each other’s space as you bicker about the merits of Gothamite photographers. Jason is half tempted to shove you two together.

“What are you two talking about?” You ask, finally leaning away from Dick.

“Nothing-”

“They were pondering the state of your relationship. I myself have been pondering it.”

For a moment, your eyes meet. For a moment, you are back in a drab hotel in Moscow. For a moment, you are crying your heart out in his arms trying to push him away.

You click your teeth and stare Damian in the eyes not entirely sure what kind of emotions they were betraying. “We were a thing.” Damian’s brow shoots up. You hear someone’s hand slap against their forehead.

You flush wanting to disappear but hold your stance. You hear Dick chuckle beside you as he stands shoulder to shoulder with you. Something in you eases with the closeness, like a gap being filled. “We used to be a couple.” Dick supplies, saving you from your flailing. You tap your finger against the back of his hand as a silent thank you. He taps yours twice in reciprocation. You look down trying to hide a smile.

Jason and Tim look at each other again and nod.

“We should probably go.” Jason says carrying Damian under his arm.

“Todd, unhand me! We are not done here!”

“We’ll see you two later.” Tim waves giving Dick a knowing smile. Dick’s heart jumps up to his throat while his stomach drops to the floor. Is this really the time for his brother’s to play cupid?

You lean in, letting your body press into Dick’s side as you listen to their footsteps fade away. Your head settling on his shoulder hand bracing you against the workbench. You let the stillness settle and make everything around you more solid.

Dick shifts a bit, his fingers lacing in with yours. The gesture makes your heart twinge, the chasm in your chest yawning with longing. You swallow. The air is thick with unspoken words like smoke clogging up your lungs. You think that if you could just pluck the right one out of thin air, you could clear the air.

‘I love you’ itches in the back of your throat but what right did you have to say that to him even after all this time.

Beside you, Dick is smiling and relishing your presence. The silver glint of your earring winking at him from beneath your hair. He had gotten you that on your first date, a little souvenir you got to commemorate the occasion.

Dick pivots in front of you making your breath catch. His free hand brushing your hair behind your ear revealing the silver robin on your ear. Silver robins. You had at the time laughed at the absurdity of it but here they were years later. Dick’s hands settle on either side of you boxing you in against the table. Even when he’s got you trapped like this, you feel at ease knowing Dick would never hurt you. Dick leans his forehead against yours, his fingers still intertwined with yours. Your pulse is loud in your ears. You lean your forehead against his, eyes sliding close soaking up the contact.

“It’s always been you.” Dick says breathlessly. The words do not register, too dreamlike in their conception. You always hoped and wished that you could take it back, that you had never left, that he would love you the same way he did before but you were never foolish enough to hold on to things like that with both hands. Yet here Dick was whispering things that you only let yourself dream of.

“It’s always been you.” He repeats as if the repetition could make it more real. You swallow the lump in your throat trying to find your voice but you’re afraid that once you speak, the room would catch fire and the dream would dissolve into harsh reality.

Dick gently cups your face and for a moment you let yourself be lost in the sea of blue. The stinging in your eyes makes you blink even if you don’t want to. You lick your lips as if somewhere on them were the right words.

You can’t even fathom the combination of words that could encapsulate the cocktail of longing and love you felt for him.

Your tongue darts out, wetting your bottom lip as your eyes focus on his lips. You swallow again your throat feeling thick even as you lean into his space, pushing off the work bench. Your nose rubbing against his, his long lashes fluttering against your cheek and tickling your skin. Dick leans in, his lips on yours, the pressure barely enough to make contact. You twitch forward, lips melting against his. The world around you stills and disintegrates leaving only him in its wake.

The kiss is all tender softness, a promise of love and loyalty quietly exchanged between you. A delicate push and pull. Undemanding yet uncompromising in its gentle intensity.

You both pull back, only barely. Your skins still thrum with hunger for contact. Dick leans in again, his lips brushing against yours making them tingle at the sensation. Murmured breaths exchanged between you. This time you both find the right words.

Dick turning to reader seeing the familiar glint of her earing

“I still love you.”

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I was thinking it was just them in the cave standing next to each others fingers twining with each other leaning into each other's space

he brushes the strands of her hair away

After brushing her hair away he presses his forehead against hers and he just kind of comes out with it

like he'd been holding back on saying it but couldn't anymore

Why not have the reader do something like this?

What if she nudges her nose against his? Or rubs her nose against his, like an Eskimo kiss? And it’s silent, her eyelashes flutter against his cheek. They say in Inuit, when you feel eyelashes stroke on your skin like that, it’s a way of saying “I love you” without actually saying it.

And maybe Dick knows that? Without her actually saying the words and he just smiled and captures her lips in a delicate kiss. And when they pull back, they both say it at the same time against each other’s lip, all hushed and murmured?

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Thanks for reading!

Taglist: @batarella , @anothertimdrakestan , @lucy-roo , @multifandomgirl-us , @idkmanicantenglish ,@birdy-bat-writes , @boosyboo9206 , @americasmarauders , @l-inkage , @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay , @wunderstell @hyp-oh-critical

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson #dick grayson x you #dick grayson imagine #Damian Wayne #batboys x reader #batfamily x reader #damian wayne x sister!reader #dc x reader #dc reader insert #merc!reader

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rason-rodd · 4 years ago

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Snowmen and Assassins - Older!Damian Wayne x Fem!Reader

Summary: This is Y/N’s first Christmas among the League of Assassins but a monastery of deadly assassins is maybe not the right place to celebrate this winter tradition.

Author’s note: Bat-Christmas Day 12 ;-) Damian in this story is highly inspired by Batman beyond! Damian as he took his grandfather’s place as leader of the League of Assassins. And I will fight anyone who doesn’t believe Adult Damian will be the most devoted boyfriend to ever exist. (#assassinprincecharming)

Tagged: 100% Fluff

Sitting at the candlelit desk that used to belong to his grandfather, working on a personal project that could not wait, Damian Wayne could hear the unclear yet outraged groans and growls of his counsellor – whose name was Zeh-Ro - echoing outside of the door. He was clearly angry but it was nothing new or surprising. Lately, and especially since Damian’s reconciliation with his father and your arrival in the Himalayan monastery, the old white-haired man had taken the rude habit to question Damian’s every decision as leader of the League of Assassin in ways that were highly inappropriate for a man of his status. Of course this misplaced attitude was never welcomed or tolerated by the young leader, and each tantrums had all encountered either a stone-cold stoicism or a burning rage. A type of reaction Damian had inherited from his father, Bruce. “This is highly unacceptable!” Damian sighed, fully aware that his bodyguard, Koru, would not be able to prevent Zeh-Ro from entering his private quarters any longer. “Let me see him!” The heavy wooden door suddenly burst open, making all the soft dancing flames shudder, almost in panic, as if they were aware of the incoming wrath. “What is wrong, Zeh-Ro?” “This woman … This woman is a disgrace! How dares she?!” The red of his angry face was clashing with the whiteness of his dishevelled hair, a scarlet colour only Y/N and her light-hearted shenanigans could give him. “I’m sure whatever Y/N did it is not that terrible.” Damian declared with a discreet amused smirk. “Not that terrible? Not that terrible?” The old man repeated almost out of breath. “That woman has a knack of bringing shame to herself … and to ourselves … and to our cause. To you. She is a foreign child who knows nothing of our culture, nothing of our traditions. I said it before and I say it again. Her place is not here!” Damian put what he was doing in the drawer of his desk that he slammed almost violently and stood up. But not even his menacing eyes or his towering stature seemed to frighten Zeh-Ro who kept mumbling his anger at him. “Your grandfather would have never approved of her! The league does not approve of her! This silly infatuation needs to end and it needs to end now!” “No.” Zeh-ro eyes widened suddenly. He had expected more that a single word. He had expected more consideration, even more anger. “No?” Damian didn’t bother to repeat and smoothly close the gap between him and his counsellor in an attempt to establish his undeniable authority on him. “And from now on I would not tolerate you interfere in my privacy. My love life is none of your concern Zeh-ro, nor is Y/N.” “But she…” Damian cut him short, tired of hearing and seeing the man. “I will hear no more. Now leave.” Fortunately, he beat a retreat and exited the room while muttering insults in Arabic that Damian chose to ignore. He had other matters to take care of. Only when the man finally was out of sight, did the leader of the league choose to relax and lose his aggressive austerity. “Will he ever learn?” He asked Koru who almost allowed himself to smile. “I’m afraid not, master.” Damian sighed again and put on his long green kimono that he carelessly knotted around his strong waist. “What has Y/N done again?” “ I believe it is better for you to see it, master.”

***

In spite of the cashmere gloves you were wearing, your hands were red and freezing just as your cheeks and the tip of your nose. Unsurprising since you had been spending the afternoon playing in the snow with the few children of the league who had been bold enough to follow you in your shenanigans. Not that it had been your goal all along. In fact, you had never thought about asking anyone to follow you in your “Not so top-secret Christmas mission ” as you had named it when the little rascals had found you baking Christmas cookies in the kitchen this morning and curiously asked what you were up to. Before that, you had just planned to bake for your lover and decorate a Christmas tree in your shared quarters, away from prying eyes, perfectly aware of the fuss your silly little actions would cause if anyone caught you trying to celebrate Christmas. But then, the children had simply said, “We’ve never celebrated Christmas.” with their little eyes shining with sadness.

And so here you were. Building snowmen right under the noses of mighty assassins glaring at you as if you were committing the most awful crime in the world. Their reactions had hurt you at first, just as many other things they had done – or hadn’t done- since your arrival in the monastery in spite of all your relentless attempts at fitting in. But then you had realised that they should not matter and that you should focus only on the magic, on the happiness of the children by your side occasionally fighting with snowballs and acting - maybe for the first time of their life - as who they truly were, kids.

“Beloved?” You slightly jumped and dropped the small little stone carefully chosen to be the left eye of your snowman on the ground. “Damian.” You didn’t know how to react. Usually, Damian was always there to defend you, finding excuses to all the times your attitude wasn’t appreciated or approved by the league. But there was a difference between forgetting to remove your shoes at the entrance of Ra’s Al Ghul’s temple and celebrating an occidental tradition in a monastery of assassins. Maybe had you gone too far this time. “What are you doing?” “Look… I know this looks bad. But it’s my first winter here, my first Christmas away from my family and I thought …” “That you could celebrate it here.” He looked so serious you couldn’t tell if he was mad at you or if he simply was tired of you not being “the right paramour” for him – a term Damian’s counsellor had spit to your face quite a few times. “I get that I might have gone too far this time. I can stop if that’s what you want.”

Damian knelt to pick the little black stone you had dropped and suddenly, much to your surprise and to those around you, placed it on your snowman’s face. “By all means, continue.” And with a gentle timid smile, he turned around to where he came from. You blinked quite a couple of times; unable to believe what you had just seen or to demonstrate all the happiness this small action had given you. But then you gasped as a huge snowball hit Damian right in the back of his head. “God damn …” He cursed more out of surprise than out of pain and turned back around with a glare you had never seen. Your eyes widened and you looked at the terrorised children who were all pointing at the culprit. Guess boldness and courage had their limits. “How dare you throw a snowball at the Demon’s Head? And behind his back?” He growled, definitely angry and the poor children looked down, petrified. “I guess someone has to teach you how to play fairly.”

And then a snowball hit your shoulder, making you scream loudly. “Ahhh” But then you saw that Damian was laughing like you had never heard him laugh before. And goodness, how contagious it was. “You’re going to pay for this!” You harrumphed trying to remove the snow from inside your coat. “Choose your partners, kids. This battle is to death.”

***

“I let you win.” Damian declared as he removed his thick leather boots once in your quarters. “Plus you had better partners. Mine were all incompetent. I scored all the points myself.” “Of course, Dami. Of Course.” You smiled and removed your wool coat to place it by the fireplace where you chose to stay a little to enjoy its welcome warmth after this cold afternoon outside. “You know. You’re starting to show, beloved.” Damian said as he approached you to lovingly hug you from behind and kiss your neck, his strong hands on your slightly round belly that were keep a four-months little secret no one knew about yet. “Yeah. We won’t be able to keep hiding it for too long.” You put your hands on Damian’s, adoring his sudden proximity and his devotion to you and to your little one growing inside of you. “I guess that’s gonna make some people boil over.” “Who cares?” He kissed your temple and let his soft lips remain on your skin just to smell its perfume. You let go in his embrace, wondering how this loving man could be the leader of such a deadly organisation. Speaking of deadly organisation … “By the way, thank you for this afternoon, for defending me again. I know it often undermines you especially in Zeh-Ro’s eyes.” You heard Damian sigh and tense a little before turning you around to face him. “Beloved, when will you realise I do not care about what Zeh-Ro thinks, about what anyone thinks? I’m happy to defend you. At least it shows them that I am not my grandfather and that they can’t expect me to be him.” “ But …” You tried to protest and he gestured you to be quiet with a finger on your lips. “No buts. I love all the things you do here. I love all the love you bring to this place, to me. And I want out child to experience it. I don’t want him to live the joyless loveless childhood I lived.” You smiled at his words but your eyes reflected the sadness he had in his. You knew about his past, about Talia and Ra’s and all the things they made him go through, the exhausting relentless and abusive trainings and the heavy burden they had placed on his young shoulders when he was just a little boy. And so you cupped his cheek and softly kissed him in on tiptoe, keeping his broad body against yours that seemed so tiny and fragile in comparison to his. Though, the most fragile person in this room right now was him. “I have something for you, beloved.” Damian said as he slowly let go of you for a moment to take something he had left in his desk. “I hope you’ll like it.”

You slightly shook the box he had just given you, curious to know what’s inside. “You know it’s not Christmas yet.” “I know. It’s not really a Christmas gift” You narrowed your eyes trying to read in his what he was hiding from you. “Just open it.” He chuckled and you grinned, your hands already tearing the wrapping up. It was a wooden small box. “You’re not asking me to marry you, are you?” You asked cheekily and Damian laughed. “Not yet.” He smirked but you chose to ignore it for now, too excited to know what was in the box.

It was a beautiful Christmas tree star, certainly made of crystal judging by how fragile and translucent it looked, and definitely very ancient. “Damian, it’s beautiful.” “You like it?” “I love it!” You corrected as you delicately touched it with your fingertips. “Good. Cause there’s a Christmas tree in the main hall that is waiting for it.” He looked at your eyes brighten instantly and as beautifully and brightly as the star you were holding, glad he could finally make you feel at home as much as you could make him feel at home. “Merry Christmas, beloved.” “Merry Christmas, Damian.” Merry Christmas, indeed.

#Damian Wayne #older! damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #older damian wayne x reader #one shot #bat-christmas

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itsmeevie01 · 4 years ago

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A Moment in Time- Ch 3

Whew! almost 3000 words later, here we are!

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

“Jason?”

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

“Are- Are you. This isn’t.”

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

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

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

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

“what did you- “

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

“ok.”

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

“I… um.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I-she CAN?” the girl laughed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love you too, mama.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“only you, Marinetta. Only you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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