#the press didn’t think it could get worse than jason or damian | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rizzanon · 17 days ago

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00 | AND SHE CRIED OVER NOTHING

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You weren’t supposed to be out here tonight. You knew that very well. The injuries that you sustained from your previous few night patrols hadn’t fully healed yet. Leslie warned you not to go out that night.

Yet you still went out.

Why?

Because you finally had a lead on the drug ring you had been tracking down for who knows how long. And if you didn’t act now, they’ll get away. Again. You couldn’t allow that.

You could have asked for some backup, but that wouldn’t suffice.

Not because you didn’t want help—actually no. You didn’t want help. This was your mission. Your lead. But backup would have been nice. Though you knew no one would come.

Dick? He was busy juggling his duties in Blüdhaven. Even if he wanted to help, his plate was always overflowing, and he wouldn’t drop it all just because you asked.

Jason? Yeah, right. You could already hear his sarcastic laugh if you dared to call him. “Why? Can’t handle it yourself for once?” he’d sneer, probably adding some comment about how this was why you didn’t belong in the field, before handling the whole situation himself. You weren’t about to give him more ammunition.

Tim? He was neck-deep in some case he swore was more pressing than anything else. The last time you’d asked him for help, he’d given you that look—the one that screamed—You can’t do this without me?—before ultimately brushing you off. You didn’t want to go through that again.

Damian? He’d probably make some cutting remark about how you lacked the skills to deal with it on your own. And while he might grudgingly show up, it wouldn’t be out of concern—it’d be just to make sure you didn’t screw up his father’s reputation. Or make things worse to clean up.

Cassandra? She had her own priorities, her own missions that rarely overlapped with yours. And truthfully, you didn’t even think she noticed how much you struggled. She always seemed so focused, so capable. You couldn’t bring yourself to admit how lost you felt in comparison.

Duke? He might’ve come if you asked, but it wasn’t fair to rely on him. He already did so much during the day. You didn’t want to drag him down with you.

And Bruce? Your father? Well. He was offworld with the Justice League. Besides, he never showed up unless it was absolutely critical. And let’s be honest—he didn’t think your leads were ever “critical.”

So you didn’t bother calling. You didn’t want the dismissive tones, the passive-aggressive remarks, or the lingering sense of being an afterthought.

This was your lead. Your mission. And if you didn’t do it, no one else would.

The warehouse loomed in front of you, its shadow stretching long across the damp pavement. Your heart pounded as you slipped into the shadows, your injuries screaming in protest with every movement.

You moved silently through the shadows, the dim light from the flickering bulbs overhead casting long, jagged shapes along the warehouse floor. The stench of oil, dust, and something far more pungent hit your nostrils as you crouched behind a stack of crates, eyes scanning the scene.

A small group of men huddled around a table near the back, laughing, their voices low but unmistakably clear. The bags of white powder scattered across the surface of the table made your stomach churn.

They're pushing more than just drugs this time, you thought.

Weapons, too.

A rough-looking man passed a large duffle bag to another, his fingers brushing the edge of the table. You could see the gleam of a few pistols tucked in the bag, alongside the drugs.

This was more dangerous than you thought.

You couldn't risk waiting for backup-you had to end it now.

You moved, a blur of motion, cutting through the darkness, your body fluid and quiet. The first guy was an easy target—a simple kick to the back of his knee sent him collapsing forward. You grabbed his collar and shoved him into the crates with a muffled thud, silencing his surprised yelp with your fist. He slumped, unconscious before he could make a sound.

Two more men turned at the noise, and before they could react, you were on them, one swift strike to the throat with your elbow knocking the wind out of the first. He staggered back, choking, and you took the opportunity to jab your fist into his ribs-hard enough to knock the breath out of him but not enough to take him down completely.

The second man lunged for his gun. You didn't give him a chance. Your leg snapped out, sweeping his feet from under him. As he crashed to the floor, you were already on top of him, wrenching the weapon from his hand and twisting it behind his back, forcing him to the ground with a grunt.

Three down.

But there were more.

You heard movement behind you. The fourth man was charging. You spun, ducking just in time to avoid his swinging fist. Your foot came up, landing a solid kick to his stomach. He doubled over, gasping for air, but you weren't done. Before he could recover, you snapped your knee into his face— cracking his nose with a sickening crunch. He crumpled, blood pooling beneath his head as you quickly swiped the gun from his belt.

But more men were flooding into the warehouse now, alerted by the noise of the fight.

You dove into the next move, tossing the gun to the side and using your momentum to launch yourself into a roll, just narrowly avoiding a swing from a fifth man. Your leg shot out, sweeping his feet out from under him. As he crashed to the ground, you were already on him, pinning his arm behind his back.

Your breathing was heavy now, muscles straining from the effort, but you didn't stop.

You couldn't.

Another man tried to rush you from the side. You twisted just in time, grabbing his arm and using his own momentum to throw him into a stack of crates. He hit the ground with a crash, dazed. You didn't waste time, hitting him hard with a knee to the chest.

But then, something shifted. You were surrounded. More men had come from the back, the entrance-everywhere.

You counted at least seven now, all armed, all ready for a fight.

Your heart raced, pulse pounding in your ears. You fought harder, faster, but exhaustion was creeping in. You could feel the weight of your injuries dragging on you, slowing your reactions, dulling your reflexes.

One man landed a punch to your side.

Pain exploded, sharp and brutal, as your ribs cracked under the force. You staggered, trying to keep your footing, but then another slammed his fist into your jaw, sending you spinning. Your head whipped to the side, and for a moment, everything blurred.

You barely managed to catch yourself before hitting the floor. Focus, you thought, shaking your head to clear the fog. But it was too late.

Gunfire erupted.

The sound echoed through the warehouse, deafening, sharp. You barely had time to react as the first shot rang out, grazing your shoulder. You cursed under your breath, trying to duck behind a crate for cover. But then another shot-this time, it struck you in the side. The pain was unbearable, like a fire burning through your skin. You fell to your knees, the force of the blow knocking the wind out of you.

You tried to rise, but the pain was too much.

Blood pooled around you, your body screaming in protest as you desperately tried to keep your eyes open.

But it wasn't enough.

Another bullet pierced through your side, and you crumpled to the ground, gasping, your body going cold. Your vision dimmed, the world around you fading into darkness.

Damnit, this couldn't be the end. This couldn't be the way you die.

You gritted your teeth, trying to will your broken body into motion, but it was no use. Your muscles betrayed you, trembling under the effort to even inch forward. Blood pooled beneath you, sticky and warm, and every movement sent a sharp, searing pain radiating through your torso.

Your hand, slick with blood, dragged itself forward, reaching for the comms device tucked at your side. Come on.

Just one call. Someone has to be there.

With a shaky grip, you brought the device to your lips, gasping into it. "H-hello? Anyone... anyone copy? Oracle? Batcave?"

The comms buzzed faintly, then fell silent.

Nothing.

Your heart sank, a cold weight settling in your chest. No one was coming. You pressed the button again, harder this time, as if that would somehow force a response. "Please... anyone..."

Still nothing.

Tears blurred your vision as the reality of your situation hit you like a freight train.

You were dying, and you were alone.

The sounds of movement around you grew louder. The men you'd fought earlier were groaning, pulling

themselves up off the ground. You heard their footsteps, slow and deliberate, growing closer with every second.

You swallowed hard, your breaths shallow. No. No, no, no. This can't be happening.

But then, the distant wail of police sirens pierced the silence, growing louder by the second. The footsteps halted. You could hear hurried whispers, curses under their breath. They weren't going to stick around to get caught.

And just like that, they were gone.

You lay there, helpless, listening to their retreating footsteps echo through the warehouse. The mission was a failure.

The drug ring was slipping through your fingers, and you could do nothing but bleed out on the cold concrete floor.

Your vision blurred further as tears fell freely down your cheeks, mixing with the blood beneath you. You felt hollow, a deep ache spreading through you that had nothing to do with the gunshots.

Flashes of your life played out in your mind, each memory sharper and crueler than the last.

You saw yourself as a child, training relentlessly, throwing yourself into every practice, every drill, every mission. You wanted so desperately to prove yourself.

To make your father proud. To make anyone see you. But no matter how hard you worked, how much you pushed yourself, it was never enough.

You saw the countless patrols where you'd fought harder, faster, and smarter, hoping for even a flicker of recognition from your father or your siblings. But they always moved past you, as if you were nothing more than a shadow in their much larger, brighter world.

Your father's dismissive glances, your siblings' subtle comments, their silence—it all piled up, brick by brick, until you were buried beneath it. And now, you were dying under that weight.

Tears kept falling as another thought crept in, sharper than the rest.

You shouldn't have put on the mask.

You weren't cut out for this life. You never had been. Maybe you were too stubborn to admit it before, or maybe you'd known all along but refused to face the truth. You wanted to be like them-to belong. But maybe you were never meant to.

After all, even your own mother didn't want you.

That thought cut deeper than any bullet ever could. If your own mother had abandoned you, why did you ever think Bruce or the others would be any different?

And then there were your friends.

Adrien and Caitlyn.

The only two people who had ever cared about you, who had tried to stop you from breaking yourself for a family that didn't care. You pushed them away—no, you drove them away. They saw through the cracks in your armor, saw the truth you didn't want to face, and you hated them for it.

You remembered the arguments, the cruel words, the way you shut them out of your life, thinking they didn't understand. You'd been so stupid, so blind. And now? You'd give anything to take it all back. To tell them you were sorry.

What would they think when they found out about this? Would they cry? Would they be angry? Or would they feel nothing at all?

They didn't have to care anymore. You made sure of that.

And then your family...

Would they even care? Would your father see your death as another failure? Would your siblings mourn you, or would they move on, like you were just another casualty in the war they'd chosen to fight?

You'd never know.

At least now, maybe you could finally see Alfred once again.

Alfred… the man who was your family’s butler, and someone who was more of a parental figure to you than your actual father.

Everything changed when he died. God, you missed him so much. Everything was so much harder, so much lonelier without him. At least now, you could finally see him again.

As the world around you dimmed, your thoughts grew quieter, like the fading notes of a melancholy song.

Your chest rose and fell in shallow gasps, each breath weaker than the last.

The pain ebbed away, replaced by a strange, cold stillness.

And with one final, trembling breath, everything went black.

Everything felt peaceful for a moment.

But then, you heard a sound.

The sound was faint at first—a low, rhythmic ringing cutting through the darkness. It didn’t make sense. Everything had gone quiet, hadn’t it? The fight. The blood. The cold, creeping sensation of death. Yet, the ringing persisted, growing louder, sharper. It was unmistakable now. An alarm clock?

Your mind scrambled for understanding as the sound grew deafening. And then—

Your eyes shot open.

You were staring at the ceiling. Your ceiling. The familiar, faintly cracked white plaster of your bedroom greeted you, sunlight streaming in through the blinds. It didn’t make sense. Wasn’t this supposed to be—? No. You were bleeding out in that warehouse, weren’t you? The pain, the hopelessness—it was too vivid to have been a dream. Wasn’t it?

Your heart pounded as you sat upright, your body reacting before your mind could process. Your hands flew to your torso, desperate to find the bullet wounds that had felled you. But there were none. No blood, no pain. Nothing but smooth skin under your shirt.

But something was wrong. Your hands trailed over your arms, your fingers tracing the faint scars you’d accumulated over the years as Batgirl. Only… there weren’t as many as there should’ve been. You froze. Your heart raced as you stood up, scanning your room with frantic eyes.

Things weren’t where they were supposed to be. Some of the posters you’d taken down years ago were back on the walls, curling at the edges like they hadn’t moved in years. Old trinkets and keepsakes cluttered your desk—the ones you distinctly remembered throwing away. And the books you’d obsessively arranged last year? They were still in the chaotic, haphazard piles from years ago.

Panic bubbled in your chest. You turned sharply, catching movement in the corner of your eye—a reflection. Your reflection. In the mirror of your dressing table, you saw a face you barely recognized.

Your hair was longer, falling past your shoulders, untouched by the haphazard trims you’d been giving yourself since your late teens. Your face was softer, your features less defined. The heavy eye bags you’d earned through sleepless nights as Batgirl were faint, barely noticeable.

You stumbled closer, staring at yourself like you were seeing a ghost. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t who you were anymore. You looked… younger. Much younger.

Desperation clawed at you as you rushed to grab your phone from the bedside table. Your fingers trembled as you tapped the screen, and what you saw nearly sent you reeling.

The date on your phone.

Four years ago.

You weren’t 20 anymore. You were 16. Somehow, impossibly, you were back in the past.

just a retelling of this

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(idk why i can’t tag some of y’all, must be your settings i think 😓)

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gay-dorito-dust · 9 months ago

Note

Reader being Jason or Dick's girlfriend, who doesn't know about their double life, casually blurting out that she was never a fan of Batman and Robin or that she prefers Superman and the whole family is offended. 😭

I was tired and failed to realises that this came out a bit like a crack fic in the end but I’m sure you won’t mind…hopefully.

Jason: honestly has too much fun shit talking Bruce to you, especially when you didn’t know the man that you were shit talking as well as he did.

He just found it funny hearing you say with your full chest in front of his family that you prefer the Man of Steel over the Dark Knight.

It sends his entire family in disarray and chaos and Jason was thriving off of it immensely. He does not help the situation at all and would wholeheartedly make things worse for the sake of having something to talk about later.

Dick was borderline catatonic as Duke and Steph were trying to bring him back to reality.

Alfred excused himself from the room.

Damian was sharpening his dinner knife. Menacingly.

Meanwhile Tim was pulling up a long winded power point presentation about how statistically Batman was better than Superman. (In every possibly way, you’re just hating.)

That’s literally the title of his presentation.

‘Did he have this prepared in his free time or?’ You’d ask Jason who shrugs.

‘Let the boy have hobbies peanut, it’s not like he’s got anything better going for him right now.’ He replies, thinking that he should start coming to family dinners more if this was the end result.

Bruce might’ve looked the calmest out of everyone but internally he was cursing out Clark for stealing his future in law. He knew preferences exists and didn’t hold it against you, but currently he was in a disagreement with Clark over a recent mission and it had become a thing where the entire family didn’t dare speak or utter Clark/Superman’s name during this sensitive period.

Once Dick comes back to the land of the living, he’s practically hanging off of you screaming, ‘WHY?!’

Jason has to get involved and remove his brother off of you before he potentially scared you away from future family dinners, even though he himself barely attends any, but the moment you entered his life he wanted you to be more involved with the people in his life that cares about; whether he’d like to admit it or not.

‘They don’t hate me do they?’ You asked Jason by the end of the night, genuinely worried that his family might not like you after tonight.

Jason, noticing this, grabs your hands and grips them tightly in his and gives you a reassuring smile. ‘Babe I’m sure as shit they like you, I mean I’ve never seen them react like that before and if they didn’t like you, they would let you know immediately.’ He tells you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. ‘Besides, weren’t not a vocal bunch when it comes to our emotions. So seeing them get all up in arms over you preferring Superman and trying to persuade you into thinking otherwise was a highlight for me.’

‘Really you think so?’ You leant into him, still not fully convinced and needing his comfort more than anything.

‘Oh yeah. I’m for certain chipmunk. I think I even heard Bruce curse Clark under his breath once or twice.’ He tells you, pressing a kiss to your head as he holds you close.

‘But why? It’s not like they work with Batman, right?’ Your curious words caused Jason to stiffen and his breath to hitch as he tried to find the words before blurting out the first thing that came to his head. ‘No, they’re just…really devoted fans of Batman and Robin. So you could say that preferring Superman over them is a personal insult to them.’ He said, hoping you’d buy the lie, he genuinely didn’t want to subject you to the whole vigilantism so early on in your relationship.

Thankfully you did take the bait as you muttered into his shoulder, ‘okay, I hope they know I meant no offence but it.’ Jason let’s our a laugh, holding you closer to him as he closes his eyes to savour your bodily warmth against him. ‘I’m sure they do sweetheart, they’re the smartest people I know and they wouldn’t let something silly this affect our relationship.’ He said softly. ‘Now let’s go home and cuddle up in bed together yeah?’

‘That sounds like a great idea.’ You replied.

Dick: pouty baby.

What do you mean you don’t like Batman and Robin?! What did Superman have that he didn’t?!

For as far as Dick was concerned he has the fatter ass between him and Clark. He’s done the research.

He’s leaning all of his weight into you and says under his breath. ‘Why does my love betray me so.’ Meanwhile you’re looking at his confused as to why he’s acting as if you’ve just destroyed his lively hood with a single sentence.

Duke and Steph were patting Dick on the shoulder, sharing their sympathies with the revelation made at the dinner table.

Alfred left the room…again. First Jason’s partner, now Dick’s? What a coincidence.

Jason immeditly calls you his favourite and talks about how you and his partner -who also prefers Superman- would get along great while shit talks Batman simultaneously, almost as though he has a personal gripe with him or something.

Damian is sharpening his dinner knife…again but even more menacingly.

And Tim was back on the PowerPoint presentation where he goes into excruciating depths as to why Batman was statistically better the Superman.

The family is once again dissolved into chaos and Bruce was sat at the head of the table, calm, cool and collected but internally cursing Clark out once again for stealing another potential future in law.

(Clark has sneezed approximately twice at this rate and was taking every test to make sure he wasn’t coming down with anything serious)

After all was said and done and you were getting ready for bed, you asked the question that had been on your mind the entire night; ‘Your family doesn’t hate me, do they?’

Dick chuckled as he held you against his chest. ‘No, they love you enough to almost start a war over the fact that you like Superman over Batman and they’re not exactly the most in tune with their emotions. So seeing them react the way that they did? Only proves that they do like you cutie.’ He says as he gives you a peck on the lips.

You pouted. ‘But why does it feel like I just attached their lively hoods? It’s not like they know Batman or Robin personally or work with them in any capacity.’

Dick froze, he -much like Jason- didn’t want to subject you with the whole vigilante thing just yet, he didn’t want to scare you off so soon into the relationship in fear of scaring you away forever. ‘Devoted fans act like that whenever you tell them that you don’t like the same person as them.’ Dick replied, rubbing his hand up and down your back. ‘It’s an issue that should be regulated and or addressed at least.’

You hummed in agreement. ‘Well besides that, I like yours family, they all look like great people to know that have your back when you’re in a tough situation.’ You say as you kissed the side of his neck, nuzzling your face into his shoulder, feeling sleepy.

‘They really are.’ Dick replied softly. ‘They really are.’

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jasmines-library · 11 months ago

Note

This might be a weird request, but can you take your favorite song and make a batfam story with it? I saw the “Kristy, Are You Doing Okay?” fic and immediately folded I loved it so much <3 <3 <3

The Ghost of You.

YES YES YES! It's really hard for me to just pick one song, but this came to mind so i thought i'd give it a go. Also this probably wasn't what you were after anon, so i'm sorry. You're all going to hate me after this :(

Summary: After your death, the batfam struggle to navigate their lives without you.

Warnings: This fic deals with death (mildly graphic) and the aftermath, contains suicidal thoughts, grief, unhealthy ways of processing grief and some other heavy content so please be advised.

Word Count: 2k

⛤ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛤

I never said I'd lie and wait forever

If I died, we'd be together

I can't always just forget her

But she could try

Tim was the first to arrive too late.

Your body had already careened over to the side, collapsing into a puddle of your own blood. Tim faltered as he made his way over to you, gawping at the arrows that protruded gruesomely from your stomach, your shoulder and the back of your knee. That was what had taken you down: a well placed shot to the back of the joint. The other two followed as insurance. To ensure that you would bleed out.

And even though Tim was right there, he faltered. Even though he could see the way your chest spluttered as you fought for air, he couldn’t bring himself to move. His hands shook. His lips trembled. And if anyone was focusing hard enough they would have been able to see the glint as water collected in his eyes.

Then came Jason, grappling down from the building. He had heard it before he saw it. Grimacing at the way your cry was followed by two more, he was gripped tight by a fit of rage. Mercilessly he took out the two crooks in front of him so he could dash to your side. He should have been helping Nightwing and Batman, but at that moment all he could focus on was your safety.

He managed to gather himself up enough to try and press around the arrows, but your blood pooled through the fabric of your suit and your breathing had slowed to nearly nothing. Tim had finally got himself to move and he was sure that he heard someone call your name. Though he couldn’t remember if it was himself or Jason. Either way he too pressed down harshly around the arrow to try and staunch the blood flow. And it should have hurt. God, you should have been thrashing and screaming. But you just lay there, spluttering as you faded. Tim didn’t know what was worse; but he came to the conclusion that the sound of your agonised scream was better than waiting in this near listless silence.

“Just hold on, Raven.” Jason. But you would have never guessed it from the way his normally firm voice wavered. “We’re going to get you to help…j-just a little longer.

Then you moved. Your hands shifted to lay atop of theirs and you strained your head to see them. Tim’s stomach dropped as you looked at him with your hooded eyes and small smile. A gesture of consolidation. You were trying to tell them that it was okay. It made Tim want to hurl. How could you be thinking of them in a time like this?

“Y/N..?” Tim muttered. He should have used your vigilante name. He didn’t care.

“s’okay” you slurred as your eyes fluttered at him. You could no longer make out much as your vision became a blur of colour. Jason palled at the sight of the crimson that stained your teeth as a sickening contrast to the paleness of your skin. He wanted to look anywhere else, like to Dick and Damian who were still trying to take down the criminals who just wouldn’t quit, but he couldn’t tear his eyes off of your face.

“S’gonna b-be ok..”

“No…” Tim was crying now. They both were. Neither made any effort to try and hide it.

“P-promise you won’t do…any’thn stupid-” you mumbled.

Tim brushed his thumb over your hand. He couldn’t. He didn’t want to but he would. For you. “I promise…”

You wanted to turn your attention to Jason, but your eyes fluttered and you could feel your strength fading.

“ Love you…” Then, your chest rose… and fell as you took your final breath.

At the end of the world or the last thing I see

You are never coming home, never coming home

Could I? Should I?

And all the things that you never ever told me

And all the smiles that are ever gonna haunt me

The manor was silent. Deathly silent.

And even though the manor was the busiest it had been for a while it still seemed so empty. It was almost like the minute that your heart stopped pumping, so did all of the life in the manor.

Dick hardly slept. He spent his nights staring blankly at the ceiling, letting his thoughts carry him away because if he didn’t his mind would torture him with pictures of you. He had thought about it. He had thought about it a lot actually. Especially after he had seen your body being lowered into the ground sealing you into nothingness. You were gone.

Dick remembered Jason and Tim uttering something about promising not to do anything stupid. But he wasn’t sure. They didn’t talk much anymore. He thinks he remembered them saying that they had promised you. But he hadn’t. And so the thought crossed his mind often. If he was only brave enough to do it. Oh, what he would jive to see even just a ghost of one of your charismatic grins again. Or to hear your laughter as you sang to your music poorly in your room across the hall. You often used to keep the door open, just a crack as a form of comfort blanket and that let your voice carry through the hall. But now the door was firmly closed.

Pull yourself together. Dick blinked away the film that formed in his eyes. Though no tears fell; he had cried himself dry a long time ago. You wouldn’t want this. Dick had tried to tell himself. But it seemed everything he did reminded him of you. Reminded him how he was never going to see you again. And it hurt. You were still so young. You had your entire life ahead of you to live and Dick yeared to have seen it. But it was ripped away from you cruelly like candy from a child.

Ever get the feeling that you're never all alone?

And I remember now

Your bloodstained face was burned permanently into Tim’s mind. It was there every time his eyes drifted closed.

Each time he finally got himself to sleep, there you were. Crying out his name.

He should have been quicker. Tim scolded himself often for this. He thought that his fumble could have been the difference between you living and dying. But of course, he had frozen. His body had refused to function no matter how much his brain screamed at him to just move! But he was frozen. He remembered watching fearfully as Jason, who was much further away, dropped to his feet from above and tried feebly to help. If only he had been just that little bit quicker. If only he had been paying attention then you wouldn’t have gotten hurt in the first place.

He was sitting in the batcave, staring blankly at the monitors. Not because he wanted to but because someone had to. Though him being there wouldn’t have made much difference. All of the shapes on the screen had blurred into one colour.

Tim had never felt more lonely sitting in the plush chair because usually you would be there with him. Cracking a joke or two, or reminding him he needed to go to sleep with a gentle touch on the shoulder or his hand. Sometimes Tim thought he could still feel it. A phantom pain: like when someone loses a limb.

You had become such an important part of his daily life that his body yeared for your touch or the sound of your voice. He yearned for the warmth of your fingers, but then remembered that the last time he felt them, they were ice cold and covered in your own blood.

At the top of my lungs in my arms, she dies

She dies.

Jason was angry. He had never handled his grief well, even from a young age. And his coping mechanisms were far from healthy. Whilst his brothers spent their time reserved to themselves, Jason was searching for revenge. But he had promised you he wouldn’t do anything stupid.

So he found his solitude in a punching bag.

Your scream piercing through the air. A punch to the bag so hard that it swung violently on its bolt.

The feeling of your blood trickling around his fingers. A right hook.

Your cold and clammy skin against his as he removed his gloves to trail his hands along your face. Another.

Your last words falling from your tongue. Punch.

Your chest rising as you spluttered. Punch. punch.

Your last exhale. Punchpunchpuch.

He kept going until his knuckles were a mangled and bloody mess and he felt like his jaw might snap from how much he had been clenching it.

Jason didn’t bother to wrap his knuckles as he trudged towards the shower, despite how much they burnt and throbbed. But for some sick reason he couldn’t wrap his mind around, he savoured it. Almost as a punishment for not being able to save you.

When he slipped into the shower, he still couldn’t stop the flood of images ricocheting around his head like a broken record that still somehow managed to play no matter how scratched up it was. He thought he might have found some solace in the feeling of the water trickling over his skin, but all he found was his mind confusing it for the feeling of your blood on his skin.

Jason let out a cry of anguish, bringing his fists to clench at his hair as he sank to the floor and began to cry.

And all the wounds that are ever gonna scar me

For all the ghosts that are never gonna catch me

If I fall, if I fall down

Damian had seen a lot of death in his life. That came as part of being a human weapon. But no death tore him up as much as yours.

He would forever remember the cold that gripped him when he saw Jason with your body in his arms. He had never felt so empty as Bruce tried to pull him away. Damian had fought against him, nearly clawing at his father to try and get to you, but Bruce just held him close and pressed Damians face into his chest to shield him from the horrors in front of him. But it was too late. He had already seen your mangled body and he couldn’t help the way his body trembled as he clung to Bruce like a scared little child.

And Damian would never admit it, but he was scared.

Scared of how everything would play out now that you were gone. Scared that you were angry at him for being so far away. Scared that because he wasn’t there when it mattered most, that it might happen again.

He should have been there. Damian cursed to himself.

He had been on the other side of the building trying to deal with the last of the crooks. Dick was with him for a time, but had finished up much earlier than Damian and had fled as soon as possible. Damian should have picked up then that something was wrong.

But he didn’t.

And he was so frustrated with himself for not. He should have been better. Should have taken the criminal down with one blow and followed his brother to your side. Surely with all four of them there, you would have made it… right?

He wasn’t so sure.

He wasn’t sure of much anymore. No one was. And they all felt so betrayed because you being by their sides was one of the things that kept them going everyday. And now…

One thing they did know for certain though was that you were gone. And no matter how much they yearned for you, you were never coming home.

🦇 BATFAM TAGLIST:

@aestheticdaisies

@hell-o-kittys

@mamapucket

@xxrougefangxx

@hearts4robs

(I'm sorry.)

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to-the-stars8 · 1 year ago

Text

Learning to Love Slowly

Jason Todd x Reader All Chapters AO3

55- Circus Acts and Stitches

You clapped when Dick landed on his feet effortlessly, showing you that even though he was taken out of the circus there was no taking the circus out of him. Jason threw a sly comment across the Batcave about how his tricks were what tipped Tim off, and that, at the end of the day, would probably be the source of uncovering all their identities. Dick didn’t pay any attention to him, instead going back onto the uneven bars, while you turned back to Jason.

He was sitting in the med bay with Bruce stitching up a cut he had gotten on his arm while sparring with Damian—Jason wasn’t ashamed of getting cut by his younger brother, and even complimented Damian’s growth after he had told him off.

“How’s he doin’, Mr. Wayne,” You asked, getting up from your spot to wander over.

Bruce chuckled, “He’ll live.” He turned to his youngest son who was sitting nearby cleaning his blade. “Any deeper, though, Damian, and you would have cut an artery. You need to be more careful when sparring.”

“You can’t blame me for his lack of speed,” The little boy said nonchalantly. “The bigger ones move slower.”

“You better watch that fuckin' mouth—” Jason started to say before Bruce gave him a pointed look.

You finally managed to reach Jason before he could get up to return the favor when Damian stuck his tongue out tauntingly, pressing a kiss to his temple to calm him. “Let’s see the damage.”

Peering over, you could see a long cut on Jason’s arm that would no doubt turn into a scar, no matter how well Bruce could stitch up an arm. The sight made your stomach churn, but you made sure to not let Jason know by smiling up at him.

Your eyes then flickered over to Damian. It was a bit obvious to you that he felt bad about hurting his brother and that he was trying to cover up just how much he cared. Damian was sitting too close for someone who supposedly was proud of his win and his eyes kept looking at Jason’s arm with flashes of guilt, though his face was motionless as he kept his facade of indifference.

“You got ‘em pretty good, Dami,” You said.

Damian only nonchalantly said, “Yeah.”

Jason’s eyes looked to you before Damian. He tried to jokingly say, “When I brush up on my stealth, kid, watch your ass.”

“Jay…” Bruce said, tone thick with a readied reprimand, as he finished up on his son's arm.

When Jason was all wrapped up and looking as he did before sparring, Damian seemed to relax a little. You reached over and ruffled his hair, whispering that it was okay. All the while, Bruce told Jason the same tale of how to take care of his wound, it sounding more like another lecture than advice.

“Fuck, it’s hot as hell down here,” He said suddenly, wanting to just stop his endless talking. “Wanna go for ice cream, babe?”

“I wanna go for ice cream,” Dick said as he swung upside-down from one of the bars.

Jason opened his mouth before closing it again, taking a second to think about what he wanted to say before finally coming out with it. “As long as you’re not gonna do any circus acts, you can come.”

The amount of joy and surprise on Dick’s face told you that it must have been the first time in a while that Jason had willingly let him accompany him anywhere. When he turned to Damian and invited him, the look reflected Dick’s. Surprise, though with a hint of underlying suspicion that sparkled in his green eyes.

Cooly, he responded, “You’re not planning on some sort of retaliation, hm? This has to be a trick.”

You looked up at Jason, “You better not be.”

“No! No. I just want some fucking ice cream, I swear on my own grave,” He said, mumbling an apology afterward to Bruce who grimaced.

Damian finally relented, sliding off his chair after putting his sword to the side, though not without a threat that if it was a trick the cut would be worse than before. Jason looked to you for strength before thinning his lips to keep an insult from passing through them. That little boy had a thing for testing every nerve. It gave him pause for a moment, wondering if he had been the same way as Robin.

Dick, overjoyed, hopped off the bars with an extravagant flip. Clapping again, you went over to him to ask him about it, leaving Jason with Bruce and Damian.

Jay sighed before looking down at his younger brother. “Damian, you don’t have to worry about hurting me. There are no hard feelings. If there were, I’d let you know. And, I...I’m sorry for what I said to you earlier, too. I’m too grown to be talking to you like that.”

Jason surprised himself with his apology and consolation toward his younger brother. It left him to wonder if what he had said to Damian was your influence or something he wished had been said to him when he was younger.

Damian was quiet for a moment, not sure how to respond before finally mumbling something about how he wasn’t worried about Jason being hurt and that his words had little effect on him. Still, his words must have had some effect since his little brother was now sticking around a little closer with more comfort.

“Are you coming, too,” Jay asked Bruce.

As quick as Catwoman’s whip, he turned around, “Me?”

“I mean, who else? You should know that if you come you’re paying, so…” Jason looked down, expecting Bruce to decline with some poor excuse. Instead, the words that hit Jason’s ears sounded so different.

No, not different, he quickly decided, familiar.

Bruce sounded like Dad again. “I think we can squeeze it into the budget. Let me get my keys and wallet.”

Jason nodded, watching his father walk away before looking over to see Dick attempting to get you to grab onto the uneven bars, to which he was threatened with no ice cream if he continued. Dick pulled away, mumbling about how his little brother was no fun, as you hopped away talking about how excited you were for ice cream. Damian was quick to show off his skills of flips and tricks, all of them Dick’s old moves, which impressed you immensely.

Jason found himself liking the way you were immersing yourself into his family—better yet, into this life. You acted as if all of this was normal, taking it all with the love and acceptance you could muster. He realized that you were unintentionally reminding him that this life wasn’t always black and blue bruises with bloody cuts. It was family—love.

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intercoursefluids · 9 months ago

Text

WDIB Chapter 14

Damian walked down the halls of the hotel towards the elevator with Adrien trailing after him hesitantly.

“Uh, should you have said that to your dad?” He asked nervously, rushing to walk side by side with him.

Damian looked at him curiously, pressing the button to call for the elevator.

“It was the truth, why shouldn’t I have said it?”

“Aren’t you going to be in trouble when we get back?” Adrien asked, casting a nervous glance towards the room’s door.

Damian paused, his eyes catching sight on the bruises circling Adrien’s neck.

“No, I won’t be in trouble. And even if I were to get in trouble, he wouldn’t do anything bad.” Damian reassured him as the doors to the elevator opened.

Adrien followed him into the elevator, pressing his lips together.

“Are you absolutely sure?” He asked again once the doors closed.

“Yes, I am. Besides, even if there was a chance he was going to try to hurt me in any way. Clark would stop him. And if this scenario were to play out at home, where Clark wasn’t there, someone else in our family would stop him.” Damian explained, watching the numbers on the elevator go down.

“But that would never happen. I have said and done much worse and he’s never raised a hand to me like that. He has also taught all of us self-defense, we trained until we could beat him in a fight, and then we kept training because it was fun and useful.” Damian finished, glancing at Adrien from the corner of his eye.

Adrien swallowed, nodding his head.

“Okay,” he said, deciding to take Damian’s word for it. “You said ‘all of us’ right? Do you have siblings? Other than potentially me, of course.”

Damian pulled out his phone, opening his photos app and clicking on his family album.

He passed the phone to Adrien as the doors opened.

“Yes, there are a few of us. Though I, and potentially you, would be the only biological children. Everyone else is adopted.” Damian said, watching him flick through the photos.

Adrien walked alongside Damian as he flicked through the photos, it wasn’t until he reached the family photo, with everyone in one picture that he spoke.

“A ‘few’ of you huh?” He said with a laugh, a look of shock painted across his face.

Damian smirked, rounding the corner and spotting the store across the street.

“Just a few.” He said, heading for the crosswalk.

Adrien followed after him with a laugh, rushing across the street and holding the door open for Damian.

Damian walked through and immediately started searching for what he was after.

“Can you tell me everyone’s names?” Adrien asked hesitantly, staring at the photo with mixed emotions.

Damian glanced at him, for the first time wondering if he was actually right in his hunch.

If he was wrong, that look of absolute longing on Adrien’s face would hurt that much worse.

Damian paused, considering his thoughts.

It didn’t actually matter if Adrien was his biological brother or not. He could just be adopted.

Damian shrugged, continuing with his search now that he had a Plan B.

“The oldest is Dick, the second tallest, horribly dressed one.” He started, pulling a stifled snort from Adrien. “Then it’s Jason, the actual tallest with the white streak in his hair.”

“Tim is next, the one who looks like a sickly Victorian child. Steph, the blonde one, was his ex-girlfriend but now she’s dating Cass, the one with short black hair.”

“Duke is the one T-posing with Steph. Alfred is the older man in the suit. He’s technically the family butler but he’s more like everyone’s grandfather. Barbra is the one with the red hair and in a wheelchair, she’s technically not related or dating anyone in the family, at least she wasn’t last time I checked, but we’ve all known her so long she’s pretty much family.”

Damian grinned, finally finding the test he needed.

He grabbed two, just in case, before turning to face Adrien.

“I think that’s everyone but the animals and extended family and family friends.” Damian said, guiding them over to the counter.

Damian paid quickly, wanting to hurry up and get the test finished and over with as soon as possible.

“Okay, so…” Adrien started, turning the phone towards Damian as they started their trip back.

“This is Dick,” he said, looking up for confirmation before continuing. “This is Jason, Tim, Steph, Cass, Duke, Barbara, and Alfred, right?”

Damian nodded along as Adrien accurately pointed out each of his family members.

“You got everyone right.” Damian told him.

“Awesome,” Adrien said happily. “Is there anything I should know about everyone?”

Damian hummed, thinking it over.

“Dick is an acrobat. Teaching everyone tricks is one of his love languages but he can also be very touch orientated. Just tell him no if you get uncomfortable, he’s very serious about respecting peoples boundaries.”

“Jason is protective. He’s seen a lot of bad in the world and had no one to save him from it, he tries to make sure no one else has to go through what he did. He’s also a massive literature nerd and a diehard romantic.”

“Tim can be annoying. He’s very nosy with an insatiable curiosity and can be pushy, but he’s been trying to be better about respecting boundaries. He’s into photography and he likes to skateboard.”

“Steph loves anything purple, she’s very playful and that sometimes leads to people underestimating her and not taking her seriously. She’s very clever and likes nothing more than to put assholes in their place, me included. One of her favorite hobbies is tormenting out father.”

“Cass has almost the opposite problem. A lot of people underestimate her because of her size, and she’s a selective mute. She’s a very kind person who is also rather playful, but because of how little she speaks and various other things you won’t understand until you meet her, a lot of people take her too seriously. They don’t expect her to goof off or get the joke so they don’t try to have fun with her and often cut her out of conversations.”

“Duke likes to pretend that he’s the normal one in the family. Truth is he’s just as chaotic as the rest of us, he just hides it, and himself, from the public a bit better. He loves puzzles and riddles, he also loves creative writing, mostly poetry but don’t tell him I told you. He doesn’t think anyone knows.”

“Barbara and Dick have been in an on and off relationship for as long as I’ve known them. Never try to hide anything from her because she will find out and will retaliate in ways you can’t prove. She’s incredible with computers so if you need any help, ask her. If she can’t help, Tim might be able to.”

“Alfred is the man who raised my father, and subsequently, he raised all of us as well. Never try to hide anything from him because he already knows and if you lie it will just make you look stupid. Honestly, he probably already knows about you.” Damian said, giving Adrien a glance as they walked into the hotel lobby.

“What do you mean by that? There’s no way he could know about me-”

“Just trust me. Alfred knows everything, we don’t know how or why, he just does.” Damian told him.

“You make him sound like some kind of all knowing cryptid.” Adrien laughed, passing Damian back his phone.

“I’m not entirely sure he’s human if I’m being honest with you.” Damian said with a shrug, calling for the elevator.

Though their walk there had been rather carefree, Damian could feel Adrien tense the closer they got to the hotel room.

Damian made sure to enter the room first, taking care that Adrien didn’t feel trapped in the room by blocking him from the door.

“We’re back!” He called out, setting the tests on the table.

“Oh, good. Did you get the tests?” Clark asked, coming over to stand next to Damian.

“Yes, I got two. Just in case.” Damian said, shooting a look to his father.

Bruce sighed heavily.

“We won’t need two.”

“Really? When we first got here, we didn’t think we’d need one. Better to be prepared, don’t you think?” Damian said snidely, raising an eyebrow at his father.

Bruce groaned, walking over and opening one of the boxes.

“I walked into that one.” He grumbled, tearing open the package and swabbing his cheek.

Damian smirked, taking the other tube and passing it to Adrien.

“Swab the insides of your cheek and put it back in the tube.” Damian instructed.

Adrien nodded, doing as instructed and handing the sealed tube back to Damian.

Damian took both tubes, putting them in the provided packaging.

“Can you take care of this, Clark?” Damian asked, sure that he would get the hint.

Clark nodded, giving Damian a smile.

“No problem!” He said, taking the package and walking out the door.

Damian just hoped none of the Parisians in the room noticed him walk towards the roof and not the elevators.

Come Find Me In The Maribat Discord!<3

Tag List:

@Toodaloo-kangaroo

@Ev-cupcake

@animegirlweeb

@Vroomtaka

@rosesandsailboats

@depressed-bitchy-demon

#maribat #ml x dc #dc x mlb #mlb x dc #marinette x damian #maridami #siblings jonette #damian x marinette #Bio-Dad Clark #Brothers Adrien and Damian

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bongo-clash · 2 years ago

Text

Right through the door (and all around the wall)

DP/DC week prompt: Lazarus Pit

'Bad News: Jason Todd finds a Lazarus Pit in Gotham. Worse News: There’s something crawling out of it.'

(No content warnings || fic under cut!!)

Jason’s felt weird the last few days. Like, weirder than the usual weird that comes with being a living zombie full of Lazarus waters and all their consequences- weird as in something’s up weird.

It started with some sense of unease, and maybe it was stupid to just put it down to waking up on the wrong side of the bed, but he started his days in a poor mood more often than not anyway, so he thinks it was reasonable enough. But as the week had gone on, he’d felt more and more like he was being tugged around at the chest by something, the Pit running through his veins snapping for something he didn’t know the source of. By the time six days had past, he’d well and truly had enough. Which leads to his current decision: ambling around Gotham trying to follow the feeling.

Which leads to his current situation: standing face-to-face with a glowing green puddle at the end of a nondescript alley, previously hidden vaguely by a large dumpster.

Now, Jason isn’t an idiot- in fact, he rather likes to think himself as the opposite of an idiot. And because he isn’t an idiot, he knows he’s looking at a newly-formed Lazarus Pit. There are only so many things that glow that shade of green in this world. But what the Hell is he supposed to do about it? He doesn’t know the first thing about how they’re formed, and he doesn’t know the first thing about how to get rid of them, but the appearance of one in Gotham cannot be good news. It could attract the attention of the League, which is a problem for several reasons, and perhaps more pressing is that its properties could be discovered by the local peanut gallery. The last thing anyone needs is for any of the rogues to figure out they can heal themselves with magic floor gatorade.

…He should probably tell the Bats. The thought alone pulls a grimace onto his face behind his helmet, but he knows in his heart that it’s the best thing for it. At the very least, the warning that people might start looking a little more green around the edges would be appreciated; the old man would probably go ape if he found out Jason knew about it the whole time and just didn’t say anything. Okay, maybe that makes it more tempting to not tell them- but Dick would be disappointed in him. That man’s disappointed face is universally hard to look at.

With nothing else for it, he reaches up to the side of his helmet and activates the com link he’d tentatively agreed to stay connected to. All at once, he’s greeted with the sea of idle chatter from the other Bats as they go about their patrols.

“Hey,” He interrupts, effectively cutting through the conversation. “So, I just found something interesting on my turf.”

“Little Wing!” Dick greets cheerfully, voice carrying over onto Tim’s com. It’s one of those times where Nightwing comes down from Blüdhaven to patrol with the family, then. “What is it?”

He takes a deep breath before speaking, knowing his next words are going to cause something of a stir. “I think we’ve got a Pit forming in Gotham.”

Right on time, everyone on coms starts speaking at once. Dick sputters in surprise, trying to form a response over the declaration; Tim is asking how he can be sure, and for location and size and ‘should we be worrying about Ra’s making a show?’; Damian’s saying something under his breath about all their disastrous communication skills; Barbara’s staying quiet, probably waiting until they’ve finished freaking until she starts up. Batman, though, is evidently not half as patient, shouting over the pandemonium to make himself heard.

“Hood. Explain.”

Jason rolls his eyes. “Uh, that’s pretty much all I’ve got at the moment, old man. Been feeling kinda weird the last few days- felt like I was being pulled about and shit- and when I tried to find the source, I found this bright green puddle. I don’t know what else you want from me.”

“Why didn’t you inform us of the feeling prior to this?”

He’s about to snap back at the man for being pushy when he hears a noise from the end of the alley. Immediately, his gaze snaps back to the Lazarus Puddle, and he blanches when his sees the surface begin to froth.

“Hood-”

“Shut up, something’s happening.” Red Hood bites, somewhat distracted as the frothing continues, slowly becoming more violent. “Does anyone know if pits can boil over? Because I’m looking at it now and it looks like someone’s left some foul-ass milk on the stove for too long.”

Barbara’s finally voice cuts through the coms. “Nightwing and Red Robin are the closest to your current location- ETA five to seven minutes. Do you need back-up?”

“I have no idea— holy fuck.”

Distantly, he can hear the others asking him what’s up, and Barbara telling Dick and Tim to head over west, but he’s too focused on the way the pit seems to curve upwards, looking less like water and more like a thick sludge. A thick sludge that something is trying to break through. The vague impression of a hand is pushing against the surface.

His voice is breathy when he finally responds to Nightwing’s cries. “Guys, I think there’s something in there.”

“What?!”

He takes a wary step forward as the hand continues to push, and then a large step back accompanied by a startled yell as the surface finally breaks with a violent splatter. He jumps to avoid the spray, and the hand flails as it searches for purchase against the floor. Surging forward, it discovers solid ground and quickly leverages itself onto it, pushing and pushing until Jason can see the beginnings of a face.

Dripping with the more concerning equivalent of sewage, there’s black hair with the vaguest implication of white strands against it, a heart-shaped face, and bright, blue-green eyes. Ergo: something that looks almost exactly like him.

Stumbling further back as they continue to rise, he hears Barbara announce Nightwing and RR’s ETA as one minute from now, and crosses his fingers that they get here sooner, because he’s looking at this kid like a fun-house mirror and he doesn’t like it at all.

The teenager looks at him from underneath the thick coating of sludge, shaking himself free from the last dredges of the Pit clinging to his shoes. “Hm,” The guy says, tone deceptively casual. “I wasn’t expecting an audience.”

“What the fuck.” Jason chokes, barely grasping at his ability to form words beyond the shock. The teenager searches his face, before looking down at his own figure.

“Ooh, yikes, give me a second-“ He snorts, before his skin takes on a strange blue tinge and the sludge falls through him, meeting the floor with a wet slap, which- gross. “-There! Sorry about that. Coming out looking like the Blob isn’t the best first impression I’ve ever made, huh?”

Jason is rapidly losing control of both his life and the situation. “What the fuck is- I- who the fuck are you?”

“My name’s Danny.”

“Danny.”

The kid nods. “Yep. It’s Danny.”

“Okay. Danny, can you tell me what the Hell just happened?”

Danny, apparently, blinks, looking back at the Lazarus Pit for a moment before refocusing on Jason. He’s never been more glad his expression is hidden behind the helmet. “Well…” He starts hesitantly, “I… hey- who’re they?”

Jason stupidly whips his head to look behind him, and- sure enough, Nightwing and Red Robin have finally positioned themselves on the rooftops above them- but he hears a splash and when he turns around, the kid is gone, thick ripples casting over the Lazarus Puddle. The two vigilantes jump down from the roof, coming up beside him. Tim looks utterly gobsmacked.

“Did that kid just jump into the Pit?” He blurts, struggling to choose between looking at Red Hood for an answer and keeping his eye on the puddle in case something happens.

Jason takes in the situation. He takes in the sight of his brothers, the green sludge smattered across the concrete of the alleyway, the remnants of conversation echoing around his head. He thinks about everything that just happened, and takes a deep, deep breath.

“This is officially the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.” He says, before promptly turning around and walking out of the alley, intent on going to bed and passing this whole thing off as a some kind of trauma-induced nightmare. He knows he’ll have to deal with this at some point, because there’s apparently a Lazarus Pit in Gotham and a whole guy that looked like him crawled out of it, but if he can just pretend that none of that happened for even a few hours, by God, he’s taking it.

#dp/dc week 2022 #The ending is weird because I had no idea what I was doing the entire time I was writing it #It derailed so hard from what I was going for so if it reads awkward that's why but still!!! Hjhdgfjsg #My One (1) thought was just that it'd be funny to call the pits magic floor gatorade #Yeah the title's from the Blob theme song it's just. The song is So Catchy.#I don't have anything written for tomorrow yet but I DO have the day 3 prompt finished so!! There Is That #dpxdc #Bongo's Writing!!!

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cipheress-to-k-pop · 4 years ago

Text

Damian Wayne when his Future child comes to the Present

A/N: This is Older!Damian. Let’s just pretend that Damian is still going to be Robin when he’s older

Dick Grayson Ver. | Jason Todd Ver. | Tim Drake Ver. | Bruce Wayne Ver.

Conner Kent Ver. | Wally West Ver. | Artemis Crock Ver. | Roy Harper Ver.

You hated Damian

With a burning passion

You thought he was annoying, arrogant and downright rude

He felt the same about you

Except he thought you were too sensitive and not dedicated

You were Jason’s adopted sister

He took you in when you were a little girl and he was still murdering people (not that he stopped but)

You had no training whatsoever but you figured out their identities pretty quickly

And everyone loved you so you were free to move around the manor as you pleased

Usually, you wouldn’t really do much in the Batcave except lay around

Damian didn’t like that you just got to lounge around when you could be doing that in the manor

You just did so in the Batcave cuz you got lonely

Did Damian care?

Not at all

So, the two of you arguing wasn’t foreign

Especially since you permanently moved to the manor when Jason decided you would be safer there

Bruce was all too happy to shelter you there knowing that if you were here Jason would visit more often

And you of course liked the idea of living at Wayne Manor

Damian thought you were just being a gold digger

Thought you were worthless

And you didn’t really mind his verbal onslaughts

You’ve heard worse, living on the streets your entire life

And if being special meant being like him then you wouldn’t want to be

You had some basic skills to prevent you from getting mugged and stuff

But definitely not enough to go out on patrol like the rest of them

“I don’t really mind, I like sleep.”

“Tt. Of course, you’re so lazy.”

“Sleeping 7-8 hours per day is recommended, you little bitch. Not enough sleep is a reason for premature death and I wanna be alive so I can dance on your grave.”

One day while you’re dancing around in the Batcave while the others were on patrol something happened

There was a bright light and something crashed into you

Before you could gain your bearings, the person who fell on top of you starts cursing

“I told Wally not to pull that shit with me! And he ends up doing the same damn stuff again!”

When you open your eyes there’s a boy about your age towering over you

He holds a hand out and hauls you to your feet

“I’m so sorry about tha—Where am I?? Is this the Batcave?”

And you’re so surprised you lean over and press the alarm button to call the closest bat and bring him here

“How did you get in here?”

You both ask at the same time and then get surprised

“You’re the one that shouldn’t be here.”

“Excuse me? You’re the one who shouldn’t be in here. Now tell me who you are before I beat your ass.”

You’re still surprised and a little offended

This guy thinks he can beat your ass?

You have half a mind to grab one of Jason’s guns

Before you have to though, the Bat mobile comes in and out flies Batman and Robin

You can tell they’re surprised too because everyone is just standing around for a second

You expect Robin to do something first because Batman hitting a boy that’s his son age seems a little rude

But the boy opens his mouth before anything happens

“WHY IS HE WEARING THE ROBIN SUIT? WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?”

“Tt. I’m Robin. Who the hell are you?”

“No, I’m Robin.”

And now you’re like is this kid okay? Like does he have a screw loose?

He looks at Batman and starts to say something “Da—”

But then he looks at you and cuts himself off

“Okay, I’m confused.”

“Same.”

You don’t know what else to do other than

“I’m (Y/N). Nice to meet you.”

“Are you stupid (L/N)? Revealing your secret identity could get you killed.”

The boy on the other hand looks shocked

Like you just slapped him, “(Y/N) (L/N)?”

You nod and he turns to Robin, “Damian Wayne?”

Robin’s eyes go wide “How did you—?”

Then he points to Batman, “Bruce Wayne?”

And now all of you are shook

“How did you know that?” You ask

“I think I travelled back in time...my name is Thomas and I’m your son.”

It takes you a few minutes to understand everything

Your knees honestly go a little weak and you fall to the ground

Before you can even hit it though, Damian has an arm wrapped around your shoulders

“Pull yourself together (L/N). Stop acting like a stupid amateur.”

After a few minutes when your brain has cooled off from the information overload, Bruce decides he should take a DNA Test to prove you both are related

It comes out positive and you’re like damn

“So, if I’m your mom then who’s your dad?”

“I really shouldn’t say. Might mess up the time stream and what not.”

Damian scoffs and you’re like ‘Shit is this dumbass still here?’

“Nice to know that your stupidity isn’t hereditary, (Y/N).”

You go to bite back at him but Thomas speaks before you, “Wow, you were so mean when you were younger.”

And you’re like “Damian becomes nice in the future? Are you joking?”

“No, in fact in the future, we’re partners. I become Robin once Da—Damian becomes Batman.”

This is news to the both of you

Eventually the rest of the Batboys trickle into the Batcave to meet Thomas

He tells you all kinds of stories

“Hey mom, how come you weren’t on patrol tonight?”

And you’re like “Um, I’m not a vigilante.”

“Are you kidding? You become partners with Uncle Jason.”

Your eyes light up and you’re like “Don’t tell me, my name is Wolf.”

“Yeah exactly!”

And Jason is like “Why Wolf?”

And you point to him like “Cuz you’re Red Riding Hood.”

“You were the one who saved Da—Damian from a mind-controlled Uncle Jon.”

And then you’re like “haha hear that Demon brat? I save you.”

And this starts off your argument

Again

Everyone else rolls their eyes because they’re used to it

But Thomas is just sitting there shell shocked

Watching the two of you rip into each other

And calling each other every single name in the book

The others aren’t even bothered to try and break it up anymore

Dick usually tries to separate the two of you from getting into a physical fight

Cuz if you ever did get in a fight then it was clear who would win

But today he’s getting stitched up by Alfred in the back

Usually, your arguments end with someone breaking the two of you up

But today you’ve just about had enough of his attitude and before you even think you’re shoving him back

And he growls at you and raises his hand to punch you

Everyone’s a little slow to react because they don’t think that he’d actually hit you

Before anyone can do anything

Thomas is out of his seat and grabbing Damian’s fist just before he touches you

He pauses, wondering what to say

“How about we do some team building exercises? You two can paint together.”

And you’re like “Why would I want to do anything with this son of a bitch. Not sure if I mean Talia or Bruce”

Thomas is getting more antsy as you keep arguing

“But you really love painting together in the future!”

“Are you out of your mind? What could possibly make you think that we enjoy spending time together?”

“BECAUSE DAMIAN’S MY FATHER!”

“EXCUSE ME!?”

“My full name is Thomas Wayne. And I’m (Y/N) (L/N)’s and Damian Wayne’s son.”

It silent

Dead silent

Before Tim and Jason break into howls of laughter

They’re on the floor crying and you’re just looking extremely uncomfortable

“You’re lying right?”

“Actually, he isn’t.” Says Bruce, “The DNA test came as a match to Damian too. I just didn’t think I should say anything.”

“Why would you p—Jason would you stop laughing!!”

It takes a good whack to the head using Robin’s staff to get him to stop laughing

“So, you’re telling me that for whatever reason I had a kid in the future? With Damian of all people?!”

“Not just me. I have 2 younger siblings as well.”

Jason starts laughing again

“You both are married.”

“Like I would want to marry her ugly mug.”

“The feeling is likewise.”

“Look you both need to get over your petty differences and get married and have me. Because frankly, I’m the best thing to ever happen to the both of you.”

You spare a look at Damian, “That’s your son, alright.”

He just rolls his eyes at you

That night one of the speedsters, Wallace Allen, comes to the past to pick Thomas up

“You two better listen to me and sort out your issues okay?” He says while getting on Wally’s back

“Woah, is that your mom? She’s hot.”

“Ew, she’s my mom.”

And the two of them are gone

The teasing lasts a couple of weeks

The boys calling you the Wayne’s wherever you go

“There’s the happy couple.”

“Hey dames, where’s the missus?”

“You’ll name the second kid after me, right?”

And Damian is just like “I’ll gouge your eyes out while you sleep.”

You still see him as the annoying kid but something changes

Because of Thomas you’re trying to intentionally see some good in Damian

And it works briefly

Until you start arguing all over again

And then one day you’ve just about had enough of him again

“If you keep acting like this, I’m not gonna carry your kids!”

And Damian just freezes and starts blushing

Totally speechless

And you’re like damn I won

Using other mildly sexual lines like that to shut him down

The tension builds that way

Until one day Damian can sense one of those lines are gonna come out of your mouth and kisses you

“What? What are you doing?”

“Trying to ensure my title is protected.” He says between kisses

You snort, “Sure. Like kissing me is going to change whether you become Batman.”

He just smirks at you, “I meant my title as your husband.”

All the heat crawls up your neck and you can’t help but stare up at him speechlessly

He chuckles

“Looks like I finally found a way to shut you up.”

Before leading you to his room

And this is why Thomas never found out how you started dating

Taglist under the cut

Forever Taglist:

@simonsbluee

DC Taglist:

@emmacata

@p--e--a--c--h--e--s

@sometimeseverythingsucks

@sokkas-honour

@unstable1902

@lostgirlheart

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mochegato · 3 years ago

Text

Even the Losers

Chapter 4

Chapter 1 Chapter 3

“We have a problem,” Tim grumbled as he stumbled into the dining room. He threw the morning newspaper down on the table, letting it slide the last few feet until it stopped millimeters short of Bruce’s coffee.

Bruce sputtered his eggs and grabbed the paper, staring at the picture of him speaking with Marinette and Adrien that took up the entire front page above the fold. He threw the paper back on the table. “Son of a b…”

“We’ve been getting calls from PR all morning,” Tim interrupted him before Alfred got upset with Bruce for his language. “Because they’ve been getting calls from every newspaper, news station, blog, and interested citizen in the world, calling to ask them about it.”

Tim poured himself a large cup of coffee, larger than usual. He’d had patrol last night and gotten woken up at the crack of dawn this morning with calls about the story. So he was running on all of three hours of sleep and just wanted to crawl back into bed, but with this story, there was no chance of him getting to bed until after tonight’s patrol had already left.

It didn’t help that he was beating himself up for not picking up on the cues she was giving that night. He’d run into her. He and Stephanie had talked to her. He saw her freeze up when she realized who he was. He knew she was acting off, he just hadn’t thought it was nefarious. If anything, it seemed hurt, not scared. He should have caught onto her body language. He should have noticed how she seemed to freeze when he mentioned the family. She must have thought he was fishing, letting her know he was onto her and her plan to do this.

“You’d think after all the false alarms they’ve reported in the past that they’d know better by now. Not every black haired, blue eyed child is a Wayne. I’ve had PR draft up a statement that while we appreciate her support for the orphans, she is not, in fact, a Wayne,” he finished, taking a bite of his muffin, missing Bruce’s grimace.

Damian grabbed the paper, wrinkling it in his clenched fists as he scanned the text. “She must have orchestrated the whole thing to put this out. How else would they know these details?”

“No,” Dick commented thoughtfully, prying the paper away from Damian to take a look at the picture. “If she was in on it she would have put on a better act. Look at the image. She isn’t playing into it. She looks scared, not excited to ‘introduce her fiancé to her family’.” Dick quoted. He briefly scanned the paper for more information.

All the evidence appeared to be the picture, her physical features, and some call logs to her parent’s business. Dick scrunched up his face with concern. While not damning, it was interesting. He didn’t know any reason Bruce would have to contact a bakery in Paris. “Not to mention the story would have gone out yesterday for a bigger circulation boost. Sundays are the big press days. They wouldn’t have waited until Monday. That suggests they researched, or rather stole the information. And no quotes from her in here.”

“Fine,” Damian growled, acquiescing to his logic. “Maybe she did it after the fact. She saw the opportunity and took it.”

“No,” Bruce admitted quietly. “She wouldn’t have had to do that.” The room seemed to become still as everyone turned to face him. “If she wanted this story to go out she could have put it out at any time. And she would have played up the dance, would have sought me out at the gala. But she didn’t.”

“What dance?” Duke asked cautiously, his focus entirely on Bruce now.

“I asked her to dance. She said no. Ran away as quickly as she could actually,” Bruce chuckled self-deprecatingly as he stared at the paper in Dick’s hands.

Damian blinked at him as though the longer he stared the clearer what was happening would become. But no matter how hard he stared, the image didn’t become clearer. If anything, things became hazier. “This could all be a clever ruse. She wants to appear innocent so when you confront her she can point out that she didn’t do those things. It says she’s an aspiring designer. This could all be for publicity.”

“She wouldn’t have to go through all that,” Bruce stated again, more finality in his voice. He finally looked up, but still didn’t make eye contact with any of them.

Dick stared at Bruce, taking in his response, letting the words and their broader meaning sink in. The words he wasn’t saying hung in the room like thick smoke, winding their way into everything they touched, stealing the air out of the room. “What are you saying Bruce?” Dick asked cautiously

“The story’s true, isn’t it,” Tim observed. It was a statement more than a question.

Bruce nodded with a sigh. “Except for the meeting her fiancé part.”

Tim knew it was true even before Bruce’s verbal acknowledgement. The pieces suddenly fit together. It was the only thing that made sense. That’s why her reactions were off. That matched. He saw her face when they told her the gala was to celebrate family. He saw her body language change sharply when Stephanie joked about Bruce taking in everyone he saw. He wasn’t sure what to make of it at the time and didn’t really even try because it didn’t seem relevant and they had more important issues to think about, namely celebrating Duke. After the story, he thought the reactions were a tell. But now… now that he knew, they were a tell, but for something else entirely.

She was trying to be polite about it, not letting on how hard it was hitting. And oh God, didn’t that make it worse. Everything they said had been cordial, joking at Bruce’s expense, at their own expense. But with the new knowledge… it was at hers. They weren’t jokes, they were digs. They were attacks. They were him putting her ‘in her place’; out of the family. Tim took in a shuttering breath and collapsed on the couch, his head in his hands.

He would have so much to apologize for. He would have to find her and make sure she knew he didn’t mean his words the way they must have come across. He knew how it felt to not be accepted. He knew how it felt to not feel loved by your parents. He knew how it felt to have your place in the family questioned constantly, to be attacked, to be unwelcome. He wouldn’t wish that on enemies, let alone family.

“Who is she, Father?” Damian demanded.

Bruce met his eyes, guilt swimming in his own. “She’s your half-sister. Her mother and step-father have been raising her in Paris,” Bruce answered calmly.

Damian fought the gasp his lungs demanded against his will. His father was confirming it. He was acknowledging her. But never trusted them with the information. “Were you ever going to tell us?” Damian finally asked with forced coolness

“I was letting the dust settle on introducing Duke before I broached it,” Bruce hedged.

“So you just found out,” Damian asked angrily. That would make sense. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust them, him. It was that he didn’t know until recently. Of course that was what happened.

“No.”

Damian gaped at him, his hastily built protective construct shattering with one word. “How long have you known?”

“Since she was born.” Damian gaped at him. He’d known. He’d known since before Damian came to live with them and still never told them. He didn’t trust him. Even after all he’d done, he still didn’t trust him. And now he was letting this unknown, this daughter, even just thinking the word made him wrinkle his nose in disgust, do whatever she wanted. He trusted her but not him.

“You have a daughter, a biological daughter you’ve known about for decades and that you never told us about,” Dick asked again in a daze. He fell into a chair staring at Bruce incredulously. There was no way. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t. He loved kids. He loved his kids. Why would he send one away? He hadn’t even wanted to do that to Jason.

“So I wasn’t the only one who didn’t know?” Duke asked. He looked around, taking in the stunned, disbelieving, hurt expressions.

“Not just you,” Damian gritted out.

Duke sucked in a breath and pulled out his phone, texting Jason and Cass to let them know what was happening. They were going to want to know as soon as possible too. All of them were going to have questions and issues with this information. And if the conversation went on much longer, they may want to be involved.

“Why was she there last night? What did she want? Surely she wouldn’t have come without a plan,” Damian pressed. Nobody had access to the kind of power and money they had and just walked away. If she was presenting herself and not to them, to the press, there must be a reason, a plot. They needed to find out more about her to figure it out. “How did she get a ticket in the first place?” That might be a place to start. It would give an insight into her accomplices and they could be pressed later for more information.

Bruce sighed and looked back down at his food, pushing the plate away, no longer hungry in the slightest. “I can’t answer how she got her ticket. As to why she was there, she was there to talk about a position for a friend of hers… with Lucius apparently, not me.”

“She was using her name to get her subpar friend a job,” Damian spat in disgust. There had to be more though. With their name, she could get much, much more. This had to be an opening gambit. The job must be placing an operative, loyal to her, within their institution. Next was the stunt with the press. They needed to figure out her next steps.

“No,” Bruce insisted. “She didn’t mention her association. He doesn’t know… well, he does now. He spoke to me after the gala, said he discovered one of our managers is stealing ideas and there was someone he was going to spend the weekend researching but he was excited about hiring him. Luthor is trying to hire him, so if we don’t act fast we’ll lose him. I’m betting that was her friend.”

“You don’t know that,” Damian growled out. “That could be a coincidence.”

“I’ll confirm with Lucius today, but it fits with what I know,” Bruce insisted calmly. “From what her mother has told me over the years, it’s the kind of thing she would do; go well out of her way to help a friend. And her mother let me know she was planning on attending the gala to talk about hiring her friend. I just thought she was going to talk to me.”

“Why didn’t you tell us,” Dick asked breathlessly. He was staring at Bruce with hurt saturating his eyes. He heard nothing after Bruce admitting he’d known about her and never told them. He was aware Bruce had been saying things for the last few minutes but none of it had registered. None of it was what he needed to know.

Bruce sighed and ran his hand over his face. “Nobody knew. Nobody but me and her mother and step-father. It was easier that way.” Easier to pretend was left unsaid. Easier for Bruce to pretend like he hadn’t cut her out of his life, like he didn’t regret it every day. Easier for Bruce to try to forget.

“Not even her?” Duke asked.

“Not even her,” Bruce confirmed with a sigh. He ran his hand over his face.

“Why?” Dick was staring at him in wide eyed confusion. It didn’t make sense. None of it made sense. He’d been with Bruce for twenty years and never heard a whisper of a biological daughter. But she existed. And he knew. Bruce took a deep breath and Dick scowled. “I swear to God, B, if you say some dumbass excuse like to protect her…”

“She has a happy life. Her mother and step-father love her beyond words. They support her, love her, encourage her. They’re there for her whenever she needs it. They never miss an event. Family dinners every night. She has friends… a good life. She’s safe. She never had to worry about defending herself. She never had to be taught what to do when she got kidnapped. Never had to… doesn’t remember seeing the people around her dead from the latest rogue attack. Not like what she would have here…” he again left the last part of the sentence off. The “with me” was left for everyone to fill in on their own.

“You’re a good father,” Tim assured him weakly, because at this point, with this information…

“I hope so.” Bruce gave him a weak smile. “But when she was born… I had an obligation. I had a responsibility.”

“She was your responsibility!” Dick yelled, his face suddenly contorting in anger and frustration with Bruce.

Bruce looked away stoically, face suddenly a mask devoid of emotion. “She had a better option and I made sure she got it.”

The room was silent for a few moments while his words settled in. The only sound was Dick seething in his seat. “But she doesn’t know you? You never visited. You never interacted with her. Even not telling her who you were to her,” Tim clarified.

Bruce shook his head. “I visited her final project for her degree a few weeks ago under the guise of research for the fabric project. She’s a designer. I was hoping to get her in on the fabric project. I thought it would be a good cover to get her comfortable with the family. But I didn’t talk with her while I was there.” He chuckled slightly at the memory. “I couldn’t even get close. There were too many people talking to her, congratulating her, offering her internships. Her work was beautiful.”

“But you’ve talked with her parents,” Tim checked.

He sighed and waved his hand helplessly. “I spoke with Sabine every so often to check on Marinette, make sure she was okay. I helped pay for her schooling, but even that was disguised as an investment into her parents’ company.”

“So her parents were having you pay for their company, holding the secret over your head,” Damian spat out.

“No!” Bruce growled. He knew Damian was having a hard time with this. Hell, that’s one of the main reasons he waited so long, because he knew Damian wouldn’t react well. Damian would have taken it as an attack on his position in the family. And after the way he treated Tim and Dick when he first found out about them… They could protect themselves against his attacks. She wouldn’t have been able to. He didn’t know how far Damian would actually go and he didn’t want Damian to have to find out either. He had been waiting until Damian was more settled, more secure in the family and their unconditional love for him before he reached out to her. But he wasn’t going to let him disparage Sabine and Tom. They’d been nothing but understanding.

“They only let me put in the amount for tuition. They wouldn’t allow me to give any more than that and Marinette got a scholarship for her university so she didn’t need any assistance. I tried to keep giving them money for her to at least have spending money but they refused. They stopped accepting the transfers. They only relented when I said it would look suspicious. So they’ve been creating a trust for her with it.”

Damian grumbled and looked away. Whatever their game was, they were certainly good at it.

Bruce dropped his head into his hands. “Nobody was supposed to know about her until I was sure it was safe,” Bruce grumbled into his hands. “Until I’d had a chance to talk to everyone about it.”

“Well now everyone knows, so maybe now is a good time to start trying to make that connection,” Dick growled.

“If she’ll let us,” Tim added. He remembered the look in her eyes when he talked about his… their family.

“It’s never too late to start trying to bond,” Dick insisted. His eyes were bordering on wild. They could bring this back, right? The family had come back from worse. They’d faced steeper hills. Hell, Damian tried to kill them when he first came. Jason had also tried to kill them all more than once when he came back. She couldn’t be that bad. They just had to make the first move. “We just have to let her know we want to.”

Tim shook his head and looked down, not at all convinced it really was as easy as that. Tim was awkward on a good day. He could make friends but usually they made the first move. He was pretty certain she wouldn’t make the first move in this instance. Damian wouldn’t accept her, period. Dick would crowd her. Jason would… whatever Jason did, probably disappear. She wasn’t a Robin so he probably wouldn’t try to kill her. Cass would try, but her success depended on Marinette understanding what Cass wasn’t saying. And Bruce… Bruce was never good at understanding emotions or sympathizing. Honestly, their best hope was Duke.

Duke breathed out a deep sigh and looked away. This family was not easy to get along with or find your place with. And bonding with each other? He managed because he fought next to them. They bonded in the field, in their suits. He wasn’t sure if they realized that about themselves. If they interacted outside the suits it was because of the bond they formed inside them. She wouldn’t have that opportunity and without it… The prognosis was not good.

“What are you going to do, B?” Tim asked tentatively. “Because whatever your plans were, now she knows and she’s dealing with it on her own. She… You need to talk to her.”

Bruce sucked in a breath and massaged his temples. “I know.”

“And you need to apologize,” Dick added firmly.

Bruce nodded. “I know.”

“No, you don’t,” Dick growled. “You have no idea what has to be going through her head right now.” He grabbed his bag and stalked out of the manor, slamming the door as he left.

“And you need to decide what we’re going to tell the public,” Tim added. “We need to put a statement out soon.”

“I know,” Bruce agreed. His voice this time was more detached. That was something he would have to decide, but that wasn’t the priority right now and not something he wanted to do without her input.

He needed to come up with a new plan and quickly. This was nothing like the one he had come up with. He was supposed to have more time. He was supposed to be able to ease into this. He was supposed to be able to feel things out before deciding a path. He was supposed to control the environment and how his family found out.

But now he was thrown into it, they all were, and he had no idea how to proceed. He didn’t know her well enough to anticipate how she would react to the situation or to him. He didn’t know her well enough yet to know the best way to approach her. He needed to come up with a game plan. He sighed heavily. He had to get into the office, not show anything out of the ordinary. And once he was behind his office door, he could talk to Sabine. She would know what to do.

Chapter 5

Tags:

@maribat-bdbwm @jayjayspixiepop @redscarlet95 @alice-hazelwood @deathssilentapproach-blog @unoriginalmess @alyssadeliv @emotionalsupportginger @frieddonutsweets @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks @toodaloo-kangaroo @colorfulmongerpsychicranch @iloontjeboontje @wolf-for-life @maribatserver

#maribat #bio!dad bruce #bio dad bruce wayne #roynette #Even the Losers #mbdbwm2021 #prompt - bonding

322 notes · View notes

ragingbookdragon · 4 years ago

Text

It's As Real As You And Me

Batsis x Kyle Rayner One-Shot

Word Count: 2.1K Warnings: Explicit Language, Angst,

Author's Note: If you cry while writing, it means you're doing it right...right? -Thorne

**********************************************************************

“Do we have to get out of bed today?” he groaned, silencing the alarm that had been snoozed at least three times before. “I don’t wanna get out of bed today.”

She snorted at him, rolling rather slowly to face his bedside. “I don’t think we have to.” She said. “We’re old. We can do whatever we want.”

He thought for a moment, old eyes trying to focus on the woman beside him; but without his glasses he couldn’t see a damn thing. “Breakfast at Pop’s?”

“That sounds wonderful,” she replied, rising from the bed. “I’m showering first.”

“Oh no you don’t!” he retorted, trying to hurry after her and she laughed, pushing him back onto the bed.

“Stop that, Kyle, before you pop your hip outta place again.”

“Ah, it’ll pop back in, (Y/N). Quit worrying.”

(Y/N) frowned at him, pointing, “You keep on and I’ll talk the kids into putting us into an old folks’ home so I can keep an eye on you better.”

“You wouldn’t do that,” Kyle griped. “We’d lose the only independence we’ve got, and you don’t wanna do that.”

They glared at each other for a minute before smiles split across their faces and they fell into laughter, pressing their foreheads together.

“I love you, Kyle Rayner.”

He gently raised a hand, caressing her cheek. “And I love you more, (Y/N) Rayner.” Pecking her lips three times, he pulled away and she helped him to his feet.

“C’mon. Let’s go get ready.” She said and he gasped dramatically.

“Well, Missus Rayner, you want to fool around in the shower? At our age?” he teased, and she rolled her eyes.

“God, it’s been like seven decades and you’re still the biggest skirt chasing dork ever.”

Kyle grinned at her. “I try.”

***

“Did KJ call you back like he said he was going too?”

“Mhm,” he answered, cutting into the waffles on his plate. “Spoke to him last night. Said he’d call again after he and Thomas get back from Vermont with Sophia and the other grandkids.” He looked at her, putting the fork in his mouth. “Martha Ann call you about Devin?”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes. “Yes. He’s gotten in trouble with GCPD again.” She waved it off, picking up her coffee cup. “I’ve half a mind to tell her to send our grandson to Jason and let him sort that boy out.”

Kyle snorted. “Jason would wear that kid like a slipper.”

“That’s what he needs.” She shot back. “This is the second time in a month that he’s been caught shoplifting. Mark my words, husband of mine, that boy’s a kleptomaniac and if Martha Ann doesn’t do something about it, he’s going to get worse.”

He placed a hand on hers. “You’re getting worked up again. Relax.”

“How many times have I told you not to tell me to relax?”

“I don’t know, how many times have I not listened?”

“Ass.”

“Old lady.”

“I swear I’ve never seen two elderly people more in love and so at odds with one another than I have you two.” They glanced up, seeing Stacy with the coffee pot and another plate of eggs and bacon. “Refills?”

(Y/N) smiled and held out her cup. “Thanks Stacy.”

“Of course!” she looked at her. “You two going anywhere after this?”

Kyle met (Y/N)’s gaze and offered a shrug; she nodded. “I suppose we could take a drive around the countryside. You know, like old people do on Sundays.”

Stacy laughed. “Missus Rayner, you don’t look a day over twenty-five. Now Mister Rayner, I’m afraid that white hair of yours tells me you are more than a few over twenty-five.”

He scowled at the waitress. “If there was ever a time I wish was still in my twenties, it’d be now.” He gestured to the walking cane. “Bum hip. Bum leg.”

“Bum head.” (Y/N) coughed under her breath and he glared at her.

“You think you’re funny.”

“I think I’m adorable.” She smirked, waggling her brows and Stacy merely laughed, wandering back into the kitchen. (Y/N) sighed. “It does make you think though…about the old days.”

Kyle nodded. “I wouldn’t trade our time for anything but...” he squeezed her hand. “I want to be back in that suit just for a minute.”

(Y/N) nodded. “Yeah…patrolling with dad and Dick and the others.” Her eyes started to moisten, and she inhaled sharply, dabbing at her eyes. “Sorry sweetheart.”

His smile held sympathy. “You never have to apologize, muse.” She saw his Adam’s apple bob slightly. “I miss them too.” His voice was rather hoarse, and they sat in silence the rest of the meal, remembering their dearest siblings and friends who’d passed on. Her father Bruce, and oldest brother Dick, both their wives too. And Kyle’s closest friends had all gone on too; Guy, John, and Hal had passed the month before.

The price of getting old, they guessed.

***

“I wish my hands were still able to hold pencils like I once could.”

(Y/N) rested her head on his shoulder, eyes scanning the expanse of the sunset before them. “I know what you mean.” She inhaled the scent of the freshly cut grass beside the shore. “Your painting of this would be beautiful.”

Kyle hummed. “Not as beautiful as you are.”

“I’m ninety-two and you’re telling me that even covered in wrinkles and white hair that I’m prettier than the skyline?”

He nodded. “Always have been.” He shifted until he could see her face. “Always will be, my beautiful muse.”

(Y/N) grinned like the heavens had split and leaned close, pecking his three times lips. “I love you, Kyle Rayner.”

“I love you more, (Y/N) Rayner.”

***

She turned the burner off, pouring the gravy into the boat, before setting it on the small table. “Dinner’s ready.” She called towards the living room. He’d gone into the old study when they’d gotten home and pulled out his art supplies, determined to prove he still had it.

(Y/N) frowned. “Sweetheart, dinner’s ready!” she called a little louder that time and then huffed a laugh. “Fool fell asleep.”

Wandering through the kitchen doorway into the living room, she saw him in his recliner, chin tucked into his chest, eyes closed. She sat on the side of his recliner and touched his shoulder. “Kyle, dinner’s on the table.” He didn’t open his eyes and she bent her head down to look at his face. “Kyle?”

She reached down and took one of his hands, it was cooling. “Sweetheart?” Something tightened in her throat and with her other hand, she gently pressed underneath his jaw, holding for a few seconds before she let out a pained breath. “Oh, Kyle.”

(Y/N) curled her hand tighter around his, leaning down to press her lips to his temple. She couldn’t bring herself to move as she let out a quiet sob, pressing her face into his hair. “I love you,” she whispered. “I hope you know that.” Her lips wobbled and tears cascaded down her cheeks. “I wouldn’t trade our seventy-five years for anything. We lived a beautiful life.”

She pulled away and gently took his glasses off his face, setting them onto the table. Her eyes fell to his lap where his other hand lay, a color pencil still held in it. (Y/N) felt a watery laugh bubble in her chest as she saw the last masterpiece he’d ever made.

A portrait of the sunset they'd been looking at that day. A beautiful blend of red, orange, pink, and purple cascading across the sheet like an explosion of the sky.

Her eyes fell across the words written in white along the edge,

To my beautiful muse. Always and forever.

He still had it.

And it was perfect.

***

“Julia, can you push me out onto the patio?” she asked, looking out the window. “I think I wanna sit outside for a few moments.”

The young woman, no older than twenty-two smiled brightly. “Of course, Miss Rayner!” she happily complied, pushing (Y/N)’s wheelchair out onto the cobblestone patio, sitting her next to the table. “Do you want me to bring your dinner to you?”

(Y/N) nodded. “I’d like that. Thank you.”

“Alright, I’ll be back in a few moments.”

Julia wandered off and she glanced towards the skyline. It had been about six months since she let her children talk her into getting an in-home nurse after he had passed. She had argued, but after falling twice, she knew it was time to have someone look after her. (Y/N) was adamant about not going to a senior citizens home; she wanted to stay in the home her and him had built until she went too.

Her children and grandchildren had visited her the week before, all having to return to their lives once school had started and jobs went back. She understood—(Y/N)’d once been a busy wife and mother too. But it was lonely without him, and she missed him dearly.

Her eyes found the skyline again and she sighed heavily, feeling rather tired all of the sudden. A little nap wouldn’t hurt. And she knew Julia wasn’t the best cook so it’d take a while before dinner would be ready.

Just a few minutes of sleep.

Just a few minutes.

Just a few—

***

A warm breeze blew across her skin, and she cracked her eyes open, glancing out the open window of her bedroom. It felt like a normal Saturday morning. The type of mornings where she’d wake up to Tim or Damian jumping on her bed and telling her to get down to breakfast.

She blinked a few moments, not registering a thing until someone chuckled beside her. “You’ve been sleeping pretty soundly, sweetheart.”

Looking over, her eyes widened as she saw her father before her, young and handsome like he’d once been, sitting on the side of her bed. “Dad?” she breathed, and he smiled.

“Hello (Y/N).”

She shot up in a second, wrapping her arms around his neck, his own winding around her waist. “Dad,” she cried, tears gathering in her eyes. “You’re here.”

“I think it’s you who’s here, (Y/N).”

“What?” she pulled away and looked at him; her eyes drifted to the mirror hanging beside her door and she caught sight of herself—it registered as she lifted her hands to her face, no more wrinkles, no more snow-white hair, no more aches and pains.

“Looks like I fell asleep for more than a few minutes, didn’t I, dad?” she laughed, though she felt a deep sorrow.

He smiled sadly at her. “It’s the best way to go.”

(Y/N)’s eyes filled with tears, and she gazed at him. “I’ve missed you so much, dad.”

“I’ve missed you more, sweetheart.” Bruce replied, gently thumbing her cheek. “All of you.” He smiled again. “But you’re here now…and there’s a lot of people waiting to see you.”

Standing from the bed, he held his hand out to her and she took it, letting him pull her up; he walked over to the door and opened it, pulling her along as he stepped through it.

The scenery shifted from that of her bedroom to the backyard of Wayne Manor and she looked out to a large picnic table and seated around it were all the family and friends she’d lost through the decades. Dick was waving like a maniac, Kori beside him doing the same. They both looked young too. Hal, Guy, and John were sitting on the other side, ribbing Wally, Roy, and Garth over something; they too were young.

“I don’t understand,” she whispered. “Why is everybody young again?”

Bruce hummed. “We all return to the best moments in our lives. When we were our biggest and greatest.” He glanced over her at something and smiled. “There’s someone who’s been waiting for you.”

(Y/N) looked at him with pulled brows then over in the direction he was, and she brought a hand to her mouth. She broke into a dead sprint across the backyard, leaping into his open and waiting arms. He lifted her with ease, like he used to do when he was young. Spinning them around, he buried his face in her hair as she buried hers in his shoulder as she shook with sobs.

“Sorry I wasn’t able to have dinner with you one last time, (Y/N).”

She pulled away and placed her hands on his cheek, putting their foreheads together. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there with you, Kyle.”

He shook his head, smiling at her. “You were there.” He reached up, putting a hand on her cheek. “You look as beautiful as the day I left you.”

(Y/N)’s lips wobbled, but she smiled widely. “I love you, Kyle Rayner.”

“I love you more, (Y/N) Rayner.” He pecked her lips three times. “Forever.”

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incorrectbatfam · 3 years ago

Text

Signal and Ms. Marvel Take On The World (And By The World I Mean New Jersey)

Chapter 8/12: Advice Corner (with Spider-Man, Nightwing, and Just About Everyone)

Duke had been so busy with the case, he’d completely forgotten about the upcoming Wayne Gala until Bruce mentioned it last night. And what made it a hundred times worse was it being Duke’s first gala, where he’d truly be out in public in front of the cameras for his debut as Bruce Wayne’s Newest Ward-slash-child.

He didn’t want to go it alone. The idea of it terrified him beyond words—the crowds, the cameras, the endless questions.

“You okay, Duke?” Bruce asked. “You’ve hardly touched your pancakes.”

Duke looked down at his partly nibbled breakfast.

“Sorry.” He put his fork down. “I’m just… nervous.”

“About the case?”

“That’s actually going pretty well. At least we didn’t hit any snags off the bat. That’s not what I’m thinking about.” He fiddled with the corner of the napkin. “It’s the gala.”

Bruce nodded. “First-time jitters, huh?”

“I guess so.”

“I get that,” he said. “I didn’t start going to galas until I was in high school myself, since there are always reporters and business talk. Alfred and some other company execs used to do it for me, so I know how nerve-wracking your first time can be.”

“What did you do?” Duke asked.

“I forced myself through it. But I’m not gonna make you do the same. The others have all found their own ways around it.”

Duke raised an eyebrow. “Like what?”

“Dick wore what he felt comfortable in. Jason had a plus one—that’s the only time I let Roy Harper into this place. Tim had a plus-three because his separating his friends was more work than it was worth.” Bruce cut into his pancakes. “Last year, Damian brought his pets. And the girls seem pretty happy with their phones and each other—I never make them talk to strangers if they don’t want to.”

This wasn’t at all what Duke expected from a formal gathering. Then again, he didn’t know what to expect at all.

“Does that mean I should bring someone?”

“You don’t have to,” Bruce said, “but you’re more than welcome.”

Duke was pretty sure he had undergone some form of Pavlovian conditioning, because upon hearing that, the first person he thought of was Kamala. Maybe it was because his brain was too fried to think of anyone else off the top of his head who’d be remotely interested in going. Maybe his brain wasn’t fried and was trying to tell him something, but the wires refused to connect.

“What if the press thinks we’re a couple?”

He bit his tongue. Why did he say that?

Bruce paused. His lip tugged upward.

“Duke, is there something you want to tell me?”

“N-no! That’s not what I meant.” Duke scratched the back of his neck. “I meant, like, hypothetically. You know, anyone I bring could be misconstrued as a date even though we’re not dating.”

“That’s what the PR team is for.” Bruce placed a hand on Duke’s shoulder. “It’ll all be on your terms.”

Duke swallowed and smiled. “Thanks, B.”

Read the rest on Ao3

@dukethomasbigbang

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dccomicsimagines · 4 years ago

Text

What’s Lost is Found - Batfamily Imagine - Part Eleven

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Six.Five Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten

***

“Now look at how beautiful it is today,” Dick said as he pushed your wheelchair out of the manor and into the gardens.

You covered your eyes, giving them a moment to adjust. “I guess.” You rubbed the AV fistula in your arm.

“Are you feeling okay? The dialysis didn’t make you sick again?” Dick rubbed your shoulder with one hand. You swallowed hard. How could your life have changed so much?

“I’m fine.” You smiled when Dick pushed you around a corner to find Kori and Alfred. “Hi.”

“(Y/N), my love.” Kori waddled toward you, kissing your cheek. Her belly was huge. The baby was supposed to arrive any day now. “Come, we decided to have a picnic outside.”

Alfred was setting the picnic table. “Master Dick, will you go get us more ice please?” Dick parked you near the picnic table before running back to the manor. Trees shaded the area, keeping it cool from the summer sun’s blazing gaze. You got to your feet and slowly walked to the table. Alfred watched you worriedly.

“I’m okay. I just have to get used to walking again.” You waved him off. Two months in a coma weakened you. Not to mention your failing kidneys and your bad arm. You eyed your thin, ghostly arm. The cast had come off the day after you woke up. They told you it took two surgeries to correct it.

Alfred hummed, pouring you a cup of lemonade. Kori sat across from you. She rubbed her belly. “The baby is kicking again.”

You perked up. “Can I feel?” She leaned over to take your hand and pressed it against her belly. The baby kicked hard. “Wow.”

Kori smiled. “They must know you’re here.”

“How are you such an imbecile that you didn’t know where the ice was located, Grayson?!” Damian’s voice came from around the corner. You pulled away from Kori’s belly.

“Damian’s here? I thought he’d be at the penthouse.” You took a sip of lemonade. Dick and Damian came around the corner with the ice.

“Master Damian said he’d stop by.” Alfred finished laying out the sandwiches and salads. “Master Tim, Miss Stephanie, and everyone else will be here for dinner.”

Dick put the ice in the cooler. Damian sat down next to you, glancing you over before he relaxed. You were touched by his concern. “Is Jon back from space yet?” You bumped Damian’s arm.

“TT, no, he is not.” Damian growled. “Don’t worry about him. He’s an idiot.” He piled food onto his plate.

You frowned. Alfred started to fill your plate for you, passive aggressively hinting that you should eat. Dick sat down next to Kori. “He’ll be back soon, sweetheart. Superman wouldn’t have sent him to space if he knew you would wake up three days after he left,” Kori said.

“Yeah, sure.” You picked at your food. Alfred sat down at the end of the table in a folding chair.

“Young Mr. Kent was here all the time. His parents sent him away to give him some distance.” Alfred patted your hand. “It hurt him to leave you.”

“Couldn’t get him out of the house,” Dick mumbled. “I can’t tell you the number of times we found him sleeping on the floor of your room.”

Damian huffed, rolling his eyes. You smiled. Your heart ached to see Jon. He was the one person you hadn’t seen yet. Part of you was afraid something happened to him and no one was telling you. “When are you moving back to your swampland?” Damian asked with a smirk.

Dick rolled his eyes. Kori answered for him. “We are going to wait for the baby to be born and for (Y/N) to receive their new kidney.” Your eyes widened.

“New kidney?!” You gasped. Alfred, Dick, and Damian winced. Kori looked at them, confused.

“What? (Y/N) needs to know they’re going to get a new kidney.” Kori shook her head at the men. She reached over to rub your arm.

“We were going to tell them at dinner.” Dick bit his lip, studying you. You sighed. A headache blossomed in your temple.

You felt sick to your stomach. “Who is it from?”

Damian swore under his breath. “Like it matters.”

“Master Damian.” Alfred glared at him. Damian blushed and looked away. You shook your head. Everything had changed so much.

“I need some space.” You slowly got to your feet and walked off.

Dick got up to follow you. “(Y/N), don’t walk off on your own.”

“I’m just going over here! You can see me!” You walked over to a bench a few yards away. “Let me breathe, will you?!” Dick stopped in his tracks. You made it to the bench, panting. Frustration formed a lump in your throat. You were so out of shape.

Dick hovered from where he stopped. You glared at him. His mouth twitched. “Don’t give me that look,” he snapped, marching over to you. “You don’t walk off. Do you understand me?” He grabbed your bad arm.

“Shut up.” You jerked away from him, but he gripped your arm tighter. You gasped in pain.

Dick let go, but he pointed his finger in your face. “Do you know how much you scared us all?! You walked off and literally handed yourself over to the enemy! We all thought you were dead until we received word about the auction!” Dick’s hand trembled. The guilt crashed down on you, soaking you with that terrible sinking feeling. “You don’t get to act this way! Not now! Not after everything!”

Kori came to Dick’s side. “Dick, sweetheart. Stop.” She pulled his hand out of your face. You looked away, hiding the quiver of your lips. Your eyes burned with tears.

Dick took a shaky breath. “I’m sorry.” He walked off further into the garden. “Give me a minute.” Kori watched him go, tears in her eyes as well. She followed him after a moment. You watched them go.

“And you were saying I have no decorum, Pennyworth,” Damian retorted from the table. Alfred hushed him. You buried your face into your hands, leaning down over your knees.

Alfred approached with his short, slow steps. He settled on the bench beside you, rubbing your back. “Mx. (Y/N), try to not get too upset. Master Dick shouldn’t have exploded like he did. He was just expressing the worry we all had for you.”

“TT.” Damian wandered over. He stood in front of you. You sat up to meet his eye.

“Master Damian, you are not one to talk, so don’t even start.” Alfred shot Damian a look so cold, it almost made you think the warm summer day suddenly turned to winter. “You both were reckless and irresponsible. Too much like your father.”

You smiled sadly. “I know,” you said. Damian raised an eyebrow.

“I would like to point out if Jon and I did not do what we did, (Y/N)’s condition probably would be worse.” Damian nudged your foot with his.

“Once again reckless.” Alfred shook his head. “You both pushed Master Dick to the brink. With Miss Kori recovering from her injuries, to finding Mx. (Y/N) gone, then Master Damian.” He kept rubbing your back soothingly. “Try to not push him, Mx. (Y/N). He is coming to terms with everything.”

“I know, but he’s hovering again.” You blinked back tears, refusing to cry in front of Damian.

Alfred nodded. “I will speak to him. Just understand he does it all out of love and concern.” Alfred got back to his feet. “Now come back to the table. You both need to eat.”

Damian took your hand and helped you to your feet. “Do you notice he scolds me more than he scolds you?”

“It’s probably because you’re Batman.” You poked his side teasingly. Damian let you walk on your own, but stayed nearby in case you needed him. You made it to the table, exhausted. Damian, Alfred, and you went back to eating. Dick and Kori joined you minutes later and the meal continued peacefully.

***

“So it turns out, we’re a match,” Tim said from his seat across the dining room table. Steph sat down next to him, holding his hand.

“Tim, you can’t give me a kidney.” You shook your head in disbelief.

Damian huffed, leaning back in his chair. “TT, like (Y/N) would want your inferior kidney?” He glared over at Tim. “And why are you a match when I am (Y/N)’s blood brother?”

Tim pursed his lips, clearly holding back a snarky retort. Steph spoke up before Tim could. “(Y/N) and you may be biological siblings, but you have too much diversity in your DNA to be a match. Besides, turns out you, (Y/N), and Tim are sixth cousins.” Steph giggled, smirking at the shock on Damian’s face.

“I guess that makes sense.” You smiled at Damian’s dropped jaw. “I mean the Drakes are part of Gotham’s high society and they married each other all the time. That’s how we’re related to the Kanes too.” You reached over to close Damian’s jaw. “Besides, sixth cousins means we’re barely related anyway.”

“However, I’m still a match and I want to give you a kidney.” Tim smiled, leaning his elbows onto the table.

“Did I miss it?” Jason ran into the room, looking at Damian. “Damn it, I missed it. I told you to wait until I got here before you told him you’re sixth cousins.”

Steph rolled her eyes. “We can’t help it if you’re slow.”

Jason flicked her forehead before sitting down next to you. “So you’re taking Tim’s kidney? Guess that means you’d be blood siblings.”

You shook your head. “That’s not how it works.”

Horror dawned on Damian’s face. “No, I refuse to allow this to happen.” He pointed at Tim. “I will not let you pollute the Wayne bloodline with your fucking incompetence.”

Tim opened his mouth, but Steph stopped him. “Let me.” She smiled before laying into Damian. They argued loudly and within minutes, Damian was flying over the table to tackle Steph. Jason egged them on. Tim moved out of the way, coming over to your side.

“I think Steph is enjoying this too much.” Tim bit his lip.

“To be fair, Damian had it coming.” You blinked back tears. “Tim, you don’t have to give me a kidney.”

“I know I don’t have to.” Tim smiled, taking your hand. “But I want to.” He tapped your nose like he used to do when you were really young. “We’re siblings. Besides, I don’t think I could live with myself knowing you were on dialysis for the rest of your life when I could have just given you one of mine.”

You squeezed his hand. “But what about Red Robin? You’ll have to be careful with only one kidney.”

Tim chuckled. “I was actually thinking about retiring.” Your jaw dropped, making Tim laugh harder. “I’ll still investigate and help Damian out, but I won’t go into the field. With Wayne Enterprises, it’s just too much.” He ran a hand through his hair. A move you all inherited from Dick. “Yesterday, I fell asleep during a board meeting. Lucius had to kick me under the table to wake me up.”

You laughed. Steph and Damian broke a vase on the table by the wall. Dick ran into the room. “What the hell are you two doing?!” He pulled them apart, scolding them like they were two small children.

“I can’t believe Batman is wrestling with Spoiler.” Duke laughed, coming in with Cass and Alfred. They were carrying plates to set the table.

“Luckily, preparing dinner took shorter than expected. I would hate to have more casualties,” Alfred said, eyeing the broken vase. Cass clicked her tongue, smiling. She patted your shoulder as she passed. Tim got up to help them. You stayed where you were, startled by the warm feeling in your chest. It felt like you were home at last.

***

Two weeks later, you strolled the gardens by yourself. You were getting stronger. The doctors said in a week, you should be ready for the kidney transplant.

You sat down on a stone bench under the Northern Red Oak Alfred always told you had been planted when the first Waynes moved into the manor over two hundred years ago.

Closing your eyes, you breathed in the fresh air. It surprised you that you found you missed the humidity of Florida. Maybe it was a home to you after all?

A sonic boom cracked the air. You flinched. Birds went flying, squawking loudly. “What?” You stood up only to suddenly find yourself off your feet and in someone’s arms. Lips pressed against yours. Jon’s scent hit your nose. You kissed him, closing your eyes.

“I can’t believe you’re awake.” Jon was spinning you around. You laughed, squeezing your eyes shut to avoid getting dizzy.

“Jon, stop.” You wrapped your arms around his neck. He stopped to kiss you again. You melted into him. “I missed you.” You pulled away to get a good look at him.

His hair was longer. A glance at the ground told you he grew another inch as well. Did his shoulders fill out? Your face burned. You definitely didn’t grow any. Probably looked worse. Lost a lot of weight and so weak. Jon studied you. “You look so beautiful.” He kissed you again, sitting down on the bench with you in his lap.

“Now I know you’re lying.” You leaned against him, soaking in his warmth. “I look like I got hit by a truck.”

Jon blinked. “No, you’re beautiful.” He grinned, tilting his head like a puppy dog. You ran your hands through his longer hair. “I flew here as soon as they told me.”

“When did you get back?” You kissed his cheek, laughing when he turned to catch your lips with his.

“Five minutes ago.” He smirked. “We just arrived at the Watchtower and Dad met me in the hanger bay. I zoomed out of there so fast, I’m sure I gave the Flash whiplash.”

You smiled as you kept running your fingers through his hair. Jon smiled back at you before frowning. “Something is happened in the house.”

“What?” You glanced back at the manor curiously. “Oh, I bet Kori went into labor. She was complaining of back pain this morning.”

Jon paled slightly. “Dick is losing his mind.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah? He loses his mind at everything.” You nodded to the manor. “I suppose we should go see.”

“Do we have to? I mean what if the baby is coming fast or they want privacy...” Jon tightened his arms around you.

You got out of his lap and took his hand. “Don’t tell me Superboy is scared of childbirth? It’s really not that bad.” You rolled your eyes when Jon didn’t get up. “Come on, it’s early labor. Let’s just say goodbye before they head to the Watchtower for the delivery.”

“How are you not nervous?” Jon followed you, squeezing your hand gently.

“During the Joker infection a few years ago, I had to help a woman give birth. She was crying in one of the old apartments in the Bowery. I found her and had to keep her calm with thousands of laughing jokerized people outside.” You shivered. “Honesty, this is nothing compared to that.”

Jon stopped. You turned to look at him only to find him studying you in awe. “You’re pretty amazing, you know that?”

You bit back a smile. “Maybe. The woman named her kid after me. Robin Maria de León. She should be about two now.” You pulled Jon to keep walking. “They moved out of Gotham after the attack.”

Jon shook his head, kissing your temple as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders. The two of you entered the manor and followed the noise to one of the dens. Kori was sitting on the couch, quite relaxed. “Oh Jon, you have returned. (Y/N) was missing you,” Kori said, flipping through a magazine.

“How is she so calm?” Jon remarked. You moved to sit next to her.

“Is it time?” you asked, leaving Jon to keep his distance. He was acting like Kori had an infectious disease instead of going into labor.

“It is.” Kori sighed when a loud bang came from upstairs. “Dick is not handling it well.” She set down the magazine. “(Y/N), will you go help him get my bag? Jon, stay here and tell me about your adventure to space.”

Jon swallowed hard. You patted his arm as you passed. “You’ll be fine. It’s just Kori.”

It took you a full minute to get up the stairs. You panted at the top, slowly making your way to Dick and Kori’s room. At least you weren’t as wiped out as you were a few days ago. Progress.

“Where is the damn thing?” Dick slammed a drawer shut before ripping open another. Clothes were scattered about the room.

“Kori is going to be pissed if she comes back to find the room like this.” You leaned against the door frame to rest. Dick looked up at you worriedly.

“I’ll clean it up. I just have to find it before we go.” Dick turned away once he was satisfied you were alright.

“Yeah.” You moved into the bedroom once you caught your breath, picking up and folding the clothes. “What are you looking for?”

Dick swore under his breath. “I’m looking for Sitka.”

You blinked, stacking the clothes on the bed. “Sitka?”

“My stuffed elephant that I had when I was a kid. I wanted the baby to have it right away.” Dick ran a hand through his hair, glancing around. “I thought I left it here, but maybe I did take it down to Florida.” He shook his head and grabbed Kori’s bag. “I guess I’ll have to go without it.”

“I’m sure it will turn up.” You smiled when Dick hugged you tightly, kissing your forehead.

Dick hummed. “I’ll keep you updated. Be good. Unless you want to come with us? It’s going to be a few hours at the least.” He pulled away to look you in the eye.

“I’ll wait. Jon’s here.” You bit your lip when Dick’s eyes flashed at your words.

“Tell him that if he sonic booms over the manor again, I’ll break out Bruce’s kryptonite ring.” Dick ran a hand through your hair.

You smirked. “Sure, you will.”

Dick chuckled before a shout from below made you both freeze. “Gotta go.” Dick rushed out of the room and back downstairs. You followed slowly, shaking your head at the chaos below.

***

“If you were a sentimental fool, where would you leave it?” You mumbled, glancing around Dick and Kori’s bedroom at their house in Florida.

“I would have probably left it on my bed or something,” Jon said, checking under the bed. He pulled out a box, opening it before quickly shutting it again. His face burned redder than you ever seen it before.

You frowned, crossing your arms. “What was that?”

“Nothing you would want to know about.” Jon gagged. “I can’t unsee it.” He covered his eyes with his hands.

Shaking your head, you opened the closet door and checked in there again. “It wasn’t at the manor, so it has to be here.”

“I know you want to do this for him, but shouldn’t we be going to the watchtower? Dick called you an hour ago.” Jon pushed the box back under the bed with disgust.

“No, not until we find it.” You hummed. “We still haven’t checked the attic.” You headed out to the hallway and pulled down the staircase. Jon followed, frowning. “Come on.” Taking out your phone, you turned on the flashlight and climbed up. You ran out of breath at the top.

“Rest.” Jon pushed you to sit on the top of the stairs. “I’ll take a look.” He took your phone and wandered into the dark attic.

“I know Dick put the Christmas stuff up here and some of my boxes.” You leaned back on your hands, closing your eyes. “It should be up here. He had stuff up here already when I brought up mine.”

Jon hummed, opening a box. “Decorations.” He closed it and went to another one. “Why couldn’t you label anything?”

You smiled, getting up to point to the side of the box. It was neatly labeled in your handwriting. “We did.”

“Damian’s right. I am blind even with supersight.” He shook his head and moving deeper into the attic. The attic ceiling was low. You both had to duck down uncomfortably just to move around.

After searching for a while, you found a box in the far back. It was covered in dust. No one had touched it in years. You wrinkled your nose, blowing off dust to read the label written in Dick’s messy handwriting. “Stuff. No wonder he can’t find anything if he just labels it ‘stuff’.”

Jon came over with your phone to give you more light. You opened the box, sending dust everywhere. Jon sneezed. “So much dust.”

You shook your head, peering inside. Right on top was Sitka. “Found it.” You took out the worn, old elephant.

Jon raised an eyebrow. “We probably should wash it before we give it to the baby.”

“Probably.” You handed it to him, frowning at the painting under Sitka. It looked familiar. “Oh my, he kept it.” You pulled it out. It was the painting you made years ago, back when Dick was Batman and you were his kid. “My ‘Jackson Pollock’.”

“Who’s Jackson Pollock?” Jon settled down next to you, wrapping an arm around you. You leaned into him, tired from moving around. The painting was just how you remembered it.

“A painter. I read about him and copied his work when I was little. I gave this one to Dick.” You shook your head. “I thought he would have gotten rid of it.”

Jon hummed. “Judging by what we dug through, Dick doesn’t throw things away.”

A frown pulled at your lips. Dick never threw anything or anyone away, even when they hurt him. You swallowed hard. “Yeah.” You dug through the box, finding more treasures from the year Dick was your parent. It hurt and pleased at the same time. ”I’m always mean to him. I don’t know why he cares.”

“Because he loves you.” Jon kissed your temple. “And you’re not always mean to him. I think you’re one of the kindest people I’ve met.”

“That’s a lie.” You closed the box. Your stomach twisted uncomfortably.

“No, it’s not.” Jon kissed your cheek. “A mean person wouldn’t have spent all this time trying to find a stuffed elephant.”

You snorted. Dust got into your nose. You sneezed hard. “Okay, we got to get out of here.” Your eyes watered.

Jon nodded, helping you up. The two of you left the dark, dusty attic behind.

***

Hours later, you were alone on the watchtower. It was quiet and dark, being nighttime for most of the league members. Jon had went home after he dropped you off here.

A dull ache came back to your bad arm as it seemed to do every night. You wondered if it would ever go away. Space was so deathly silent. You felt like you had to hold your breath. Sitka was under your arm, dust free and clean for the baby.

It took you a good few minutes to find Kori’s room in the medbay. She was fast asleep with a bassinet next to her. You tiptoed inside and peeked inside the bassinet. “Wow,” you gasped quietly, smiling at the tiny little baby inside. Tufts of dark hair, same color as Dick’s, stuck out from under the blanket they was swaddled in. Their little hand twitched in their sleep was the same golden orange as Kori’s.

You stared at the baby for a long time. Of course, you had seen babies before. Even helped someone deliver one, but you had to admit, you never saw a more beautiful baby.

Carefully, you set Sitka in the far corner of the bassinet where the baby could see it when they woke up. You blinked, realizing at this moment you didn’t know if the baby was a boy or girl. Dick only said the baby was born and for you to come, nothing else. You glanced at Kori, who was still asleep.

After a few minutes of gazing at the baby some more, you pulled yourself away and slipped out of the room. You turned the corner to head back to the teleporter only to come face to face with Dick.

“Now you show up.” Dick took a step back, sipping a cup of coffee. Dark circles were under his eyes making him look older than his years. His hair was a mess. You resisted the urge to fix it. “I called you hours ago.”

“I was busy.” You bit your lip. His mouth twitched. Eyebrows furrowed. He was angry. Why was he angry?

Dick took a moment to swallow before walking around you and back down the hall. You followed, concerned. “I was waiting for you.” He spun around to face you. His lips pulled into a frown.

“I know, but I was busy.” You raised an eyebrow. “What’s wrong? You should be happy. The baby is beautiful.”

Dick’s face softened. He glanced inside the window of the medbay at Kori and the bassinet. “We wanted you to be here, you know? To meet your niece for the first time.”

“She’s a girl.” You smiled, peeking around the corner. “I should have known. She has so much hair already.” You looked back at Dick, catching loss of focus in his eyes, the slight droop of his lower eyelid. “Oh, so you’re not mad? You’re sad I didn’t get here right away.” You smiled when Dick’s eyes widened. “I learned from the best, you know.”

Dick took a sip of coffee, sensing you were mocking him with the ‘you know’. Of course, you were. “I guess I’m worried what you would think of adding a baby to our little family. A baby changes things.”

You shrugged. “Not that many things.” Your eyes stayed on the bassinet.

“I suppose not.” Dick studied you. “Do you want to hold her? We’ll have to be careful if she’s asleep.”

Fear stuck you like lightning. It was one thing to look at the baby, but another thing to hold one. “I don’t...I mean...” You bit your lip.

Dick chuckled. “You won’t drop her.” He went into the room, setting his coffee down on a table before looking into the bassinet. You held your breath when you saw him pause, knowing he saw Sitka. He looked back at you, raising an eyebrow and holding up the elephant. Your face heated up. You looked away.

“Come on, Mar’i. You need to meet (Y/N).” Dick came out with the bundle in his arms. You froze, terror chilled you to the core. “Don’t be scared, (Y/N).” Dick nodded to your arms. You swallowed hard, copying his. He slipped Mar’i right into yours. You gasped. She was awake, staring up at you with brilliant green eyes.

“Hi.” You smiled bigger than you had in a long time. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Dick taking a picture on his phone. You ignored him. Mar’i just blinked. “So her name is Mar’i?”

“Mar’i (Y/N) Grayson.” Dick smirked when you looked at him in surprise. “I mean it fits, don’t you think?”

You bit your lip, looking down at Mar’i. “I guess it does.” You rocked her. She dozed off in your arms.

“Thank you for getting Sitka for me.” Dick leaned against the wall. He closed his eyes. “I suppose that’s why you didn’t come right away, huh? That’s why I can never stay mad at you. Always sneaking up and doing something sweet.”

You sighed, leaning down to kiss Mar’i’s head. She smelled of baby powder and sunshine. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Dick raised an eyebrow, opening his eyes to look at you.

“Everything.” Alfred’s words echoed through your head. Guilt soured your stomach once again. “I shouldn’t have handed myself over to Bane’s son. I threw my life away and I know that hurt you.”

Dick blinked. “I forgive you, sweetheart.” He stepped over to you and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. You leaned into him, using him to help support Mar’i‘s weight. It started to strain your arms. “Just don’t ever do it again.”

You snorted. “I don’t plan on it.” Dick kissed your temple, chuckling as you looked down at Mar’i’s perfect little face.

***

“Now don’t panic.” Jason poked at your arm as you laid in the hospital bed. Nurses moved around you, prepping you for surgery. “You’re going to have Tim’s kidney inside of you, but that doesn’t mean you’ll be a stick-in-the-mud like him.”

“Geez, thanks,” Tim said from across the room, where he was also being prepped for surgery.

You laughed. “Stop it.” You batted Jason’s hand away. “Dick and Kori will be here when I wake up, won’t they?”

Jason gasped, pressing his hand against his chest like you shot him. “What about me? I’m here, giving my support.”

“More like a headache,” Tim grumbled.

“Yes, they will be here. They just have to handle the baby first.” Jason kissed your cheek. “Little Mar’ionster.”

You smirked. “Don’t call her that. You don’t want Kori firing star bolts at you again, do you?”

“Like she could hit me.” Jason matched your smirk and leaned back in his chair.

“We’ll take them in now,” the nurse said, gesturing for Jason to leave. “You may wait in the waiting room.”

“Sure, sure.” Jason kissed the top of your head. “Be good.” He went over to Tim. Tim glared at him, daring him to do something. “Ah, don’t be like that, Timbo.” He ruffled Tim’s hair, much to Tim’s despair.

Tim knocked his hand away. “Get out of here already.” Jason left, laughing his head off. The nurses rolled your bed into the operating room across the hall. You frowned at the bright lights.

Tim was parked a little ways from you. “You okay?” He asked, smiling when he met your eye.

“Fine. You?” You swallowed hard, suddenly scared.

“Good.” He winked at you. “We’ll be fine. Once we’re out, we can laze around and watch cartoons like we used to.”

“Ninja Turtles?” You smiled. The tension drained out of you.

Tim nodded, turning away when the anesthesiologist spoke to him. You gripped at the blanket covering you.

“Relax, (Y/N). You’ll be fine.” A nurse rubbed your arm. You gave her a shaky smile.

The anesthesiologist left Tim and came over to you. “I want you to count down from one hundred for me,” he said soothingly as he injected something into your IV. You closed your eyes, counting only to pass out at ninety seven.

***

“I can’t believe I haven’t watch this before,” Jon remarked, sitting by your feet and leaning back against the couch. You lifted your legs to rest on his shoulders. He kissed the side of your knee, hugging your lower legs.

“You never watched Ninja Turtles?” Your fingers played with his hair. “That’s it. Can’t be together anymore.”

Tim snorted from his spot on the couch next to you. “If that was the case, I would have broken up with Steph a long time ago.”

“Did I hear my name?” Steph walked in with a tray of healthy snacks Alfred prepared. “Speak of the devil and she should appear.”

She set the tray down on the coffee table, handing a small bowl of popcorn to Tim and you. You munched happily. Jon tilted his head back with his mouth open. You fed him a piece. “Thanks,” he said, tilting his head back to the tv.

Your recovery was going good. You had only a little pain and your body was accepting Tim’s kidney the best it could. The medications weren’t fun and came with their own restrictions, but you were happy to not have dialysis three times a week.

Tim was recovering as well if not better than you were. He was still on the same healthy diet as you, but at least he didn’t have the same medications you did.

The four of you watched cartoons and snacked away. Eventually, Tim and Steph left to go back to their apartment. You and Jon kept watching until Jon fell asleep and your legs went numb from laying over his shoulders.

“Ouch.” You folded your legs back, wincing at the pins and needles. The remote laid next to you. You put on the news out of habit.

“Today, the court decided the fate of Tourne Wu-San, otherwise known as Bane. Two weeks ago, the court confirmed Wu-San guilty on charges of terrorism.” You froze, shocked that you didn’t hear about this before. Why didn’t anyone tell you? “Wu-San’s sentencing was held off after much conflict from Santa Prisca’s embassy. However, after confirmation of Wu-San’s dual citizenship, the court sentenced Tourne Wu-San to death by lethal injection.”

“What?!” You jumped to your feet only to fall back onto the couch. Your legs were still asleep. The blood drained out of your face. Jon jerked awake, looking around.

“What’s wrong?” He focused on you, frowning deeply. “Woah, hey. You look like you seen a ghost.”

Your hands shook. “They’re going to kill him.” Jon took your hand. His hand radiated warmth. You pulled away, unable to accept the comfort. “It’s all my fault. He’s going to die because of what I did.”

“Sweetheart, what are you talking about?” Jon kissed your arm, moving to sit on the couch beside you.

You shook your head, pointing at the screen. The TV was playing a My Pillow commercial. “Bane’s son. They sentenced him to die.”

Jon swallowed hard. His face paled. “That’s rough.”

“Rough? He’s going to die and it’s all my fault.” You jumped to your feet and paced the room. “I have to help him.”

“It’s not your fault, (Y/N). He made his own choices.” Jon stood in front of you, forcing you to stop pacing. “He has to pay for what he did. If the courts decided that, we can’t change it.”

Tears ran down your cheeks. The surge of emotions raged through you, but you knew you couldn’t live if Bane’s son was killed. “Yes, we can. We can break him out and free him.”

“Are you crazy?!” Jon threw his hands up in the air. “He almost killed you.” He leaned close to your face. “You had to get a kidney transplant because of him! People lost their lives and homes because of him!”

You screamed. Jon jerked away from you. “He’s like us, Jon!” You pushed Jon away from you. “He’s like Damian and me! All three of us lost parents that day! We can’t let it continue!”

“What the hell is going on in here?!” Dick burst through the door. “I’m trying to get Mar’i to sleep and all I can hear is yelling!” Jon blushed. You panted before storming past Dick. Dick caught your arm. “Hey, what’s wrong?” His voice dropped to a soothing whisper. You were confused until you realized you were still crying.

“Nothing.” You yanked your arm away from Dick. “Just leave me alone.” You ran upstairs and slammed your bedroom door shut behind you. Only then did you allow yourself to break down completely.

***

“Have you lost your mind? He’s a criminal.” Damian folded his hands in front of him as he sat in his batcomputer chair like it was a throne. You glanced around the batcave he had made for himself under Wayne Tower and admitted the chair was a throne in a way. This was Damian’s kingdom he built on his own.

“Damian, we can’t let him die.” You rocked on your feet. Jon hovered behind you. Despite the fact he hadn’t said a word, his disapproval burned into you. “We can’t let the cycle of death continue.”

Damian raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“Bane killed Dad, then I killed Bane.” You swallowed hard. Those words would always carry a heavy weight for you. “Bane’s son almost killed me and if we allow him to be executed, what’s to stop someone from Santa Prisca to come after us and Gotham again?” You crossed your arms, shivering. “We have to stop the cycle. No more death.”

“Interesting notion.” Damian rubbed his chin. He spun in his chair and typed on his computer.

You waited, watching his screens. A smile pulled at your lips when Damian brought up the schematics of Blackgate Prison where Bane’s son was being held. “Damian, you can’t be serious,” Jon said, going to Damian’s side. “He almost killed (Y/N).”

“Yes, but he didn’t, did he?” Damian kept working. “He could have killed (Y/N) right after they handed themselves over, but he didn’t.” Damian glanced back at you. “He could have killed them during the three weeks they held them, but he didn’t. When he caused (Y/N) to overdose, he knew we would get to them in time to prevent cardiac failure.” You smiled. “I say he didn’t want to kill (Y/N) just as much as (Y/N) doesn’t want to see him executed.”

Jon glanced between the two of you. “Nope. This is not happening.” He crossed his arms. “I love you, (Y/N) and Damian, you’re my best friend, but I’m not letting you do this. I’ll tell my dad and Dick if I have to.”

Damian snorted. “I guess we’ll have to do this quickly then.” In a move so fast, you almost missed it, Damian landed a punch to Jon’s jaw. Jon fell like a rock. You gasped, running to him. “TT, he’s fine. Just repaying him for the time he did that to me.”

“He’s unconscious.” You felt the lump on his jaw. “Damn it, Damian. A bit more pressure and you would have broken his jaw.” Damian huffed, taking off the kryptonite ring and putting back into his belt.

“I know what I am doing.” Damian cracked his knuckles and walked over to his changing area. “Come along. We have to be done before he wakes up.”

You were torn between Jon and Damian, but you knew you had to save Bane’s son. Kissing Jon’s head, you got him a pillow and a blanket before following Damian.

***

Pursing your lips, you gripped the stirring wheel of Damian’s flying batmobile. It was in camouflage mode, hovering only a few meters above the prison. You held your breath, counting to ten, then releasing it. Damian entered the prison twenty minutes ago. Where was he?

You glanced at the clock. It was three in the morning now. At your best estimate, Jon would wake up in another half an hour. You had to be back before then.

A flash of red light came from the roof of Blackgate. You sighed in relief, lowering the batmobile until it was a few feet above the roof. It rocked as two forms climbed to the cockpit.

“I don’t understand why you would do this,” Bane’s son said, confused. Damian pushed him to sit in the backseat before climbing up to join you at the front.

“Shut up.” Damian growled in his Batman voice. You shook your head, feeling Bane’s son’s eyes on you. You hit the gas, flying the batmobile away from the prison. “I think we need to provide some more funding. Blackgate’s security has too many holes.”

“Says someone on the outside.” Bane’s son looked out the window. “Where are you taking me? Are you planning to kill me?”

You glanced back at him. He didn’t have his mask on. Your heart jumped into your throat. “We’re ending this.”

Damian huffed. “TT, now it sounds like we’re going to kill him.”

Bane’s son chuckled. “It does.”

“I didn’t mean that.” You smiled. It was odd to have the man who was your captor for three long weeks and forced you to overdose, sitting behind you, making a joke. “I meant that we’re going to end the cycle of death. All three of us have suffered enough. We couldn’t allow you to lose your life when you should get a chance to move on.”

“And how am I supposed to do that? They will search for me.” Bane’s son shook his head. “Not to mention they will know it was you who set me free.”

Damian glared at him. “What do you take us for? Idiots?” He smirked dangerously. “They may suspect we have something to do with it, but no one will know as long as they never find you.”

“That is not reassuring me that you aren’t going to kill me.” Bane’s son sighed. “I never wanted this.”

“None of us did.” You bit your lip. “But we can let it go now. No more killing, no more pain, no more death.”

You landed the batmobile on the shoreline in the outskirts of Gotham. All three of you got out. Damian helped you. He squeezed your arm, reminding you to take it easy. Bane’s son studied you as if he could already see the damage he had done to you.

“What now?” he asked, pulling his gaze away from you.

“TT.” Damian went to the shoreline. He pressed a button on his gauntlet to reveal a camouflaged boat. “Your escape.” He narrowed his eyes at Bane’s son. “It’s autopilot will take you to Canada. Inside is money and documents for your new identity.”

Bane’s son blinked in surprise. “You are really letting me go? After everything I did to your city and to you?” He pointed to you. “They told me I put you in a coma for two months.”

“Like I said. I’m letting it go and I hope you can too.” You held out a hand. “Go live the life you wanted to live before I forced you to fight your father’s battles.”

Bane’s son eyed your hand. He paused before taking it. “Let bygones be bygones.” He smiled. “Thank you.”

Relief washed over you. The tension you didn’t realized you had for so long drained out of you. “You’re welcome.” Bane’s son pulled his hand away. He nodded to Damian before running to the boat.

You and Damian watched as the boat disappeared into the distance. “We have to go. Kent will be awake soon.” Damian helped you back into the batmobile, taking the pilot’s seat this time.

“We did good.” You closed your eyes, exhausted.

“TT. Only time will tell, I suppose, but you are right.” Damian flew the batmobile back to the city. “It feels like we did the right thing.”

***

You sat on Damian’s couch with Jon’s head on your lap. Your hand lazily ran through his hair. He hadn’t woken up yet, much to your relief. You kissed his forehead. Tears filled your eyes. You knew he probably won’t forgive you for this.

“TT.” Damian walked by. “Stop being emotional.”

“Shut up.” You glared at him only to turn back to Jon when you felt him stir in your lap.

Jon groaned, opening his eyes. His hand came up to rub his jaw. “What happened?”

“Payback.” Damian retorted, tossing an icepack onto Jon’s lap.

You shook your head. “Damian punched you.” You took the ice pack and pressed it gently against Jon’s jaw. Jon looked at you, drinking in the tears in your eyes. He probably could feel the guilt dripping off you.

“You did it, didn’t you?” His voice was a whisper as he looked into your eyes. Biting your lip, you nodded. Jon sighed and closed his eyes. “You look like there is a weight off your shoulders.”

“What?” You twisted a strand of his hair around your finger. He opened his eyes.

“When I first saw you at Christmas, you looked like you had this backpack of rocks hanging off you at all times. Even when I made you laugh, you still had it.” Jon smiled sadly. “But now it looks like it’s gone. You seem...happier.”

Damian huffed, taking a seat nearby. “That was put as eloquently as you could manage, Kent.”

“Shut up, Damian.” Jon glared at Damian before looking back at you. “I’m sorry I tried to stand in your way.”

You grinned, leaning down to kiss his lips. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

Jon moaned into the kiss. “You’re the amazing one.”

“Stop it! I’m sitting right here!” Damian threw a pillow at you. You caught it easily with one hand. Jon kept kissing you. You never felt so relieved in your life.

***

Time passed. You recovered from your transplant, thriving the best you could even with the side effects from all the medications. The rest of the family seemed to know you and Damian had something to do with Bane’s son’s escape, but didn’t act on their suspicions.

After three long months, you, Dick, Kori, and baby Mar’i were moving back down to Florida. Luckily, you were able to make up enough work to graduate from high school like you planned. You were going to a small college nearby for at least the first year. After everything, you did want to be near family for now.

The car was packed for the drive home. However, you insisted on one last stop. “Are you sure you want to go alone?” Dick asked, getting out of the car. You nodded your head.

“I’m good.” You walked into the cemetery. Dick’s gaze weighed on you. It brought you some comfort as you remembered how messed up you were when you came here the first time.

Mar’i started to cry in the distance. Kori soothed her. You walked past graves. Their noise faded until you got to the one you were looking for.

“Hi Dad.” You knelt down in front of the simple tombstone. The silence was deafening. “I’m doing like I promised. I’m living my life.” You smiled sadly. “And I repaired my mistakes. Damian, Bane’s son, and I are free from the events of that one night.” Your face burned. “Well, I will always carry the burden, but it won’t dominate my life anymore.”

“I’m sorry I haven’t come earlier. It’s still hard to think that you’re here.” Tears filled your eyes. “I’ve got to stop crying so much. I feel like that’s all I do.” You rested your forehead on the tombstone. “I’m being nice to Dick and Kori.” You sighed deeply. “Mar’i is beautiful too. You’d like her. She’s got your grumpy look.”

A laugh escaped you. “I love you so much, Dad.” You pressed a kiss to the tombstone before pulling away. “I hope I do you proud.” Slowly, you got to your feet. “Goodbye, Dad.” You let your hand rest on the tombstone for a moment. “Thank you for everything.” Almost painfully, you let your hand drop away and started back toward the car.

Dick and Kori were outside, waiting for you. Mar’i was in Kori’s arms, looking at you with those beautiful green eyes. You went to them, allowing yourself to be pulled into Dick’s arms. Kori wrapped one arm around the two of you. You sighed, enjoying the hug. “We can go home now,” you said firmly. You knew truly what was lost had been found.

#batfamily #batfamily imagine #batfamily x reader #dick grayson #dick grayson iamgine #nightwing #nightwing imagine #kori anders #kori anders imagine #starfire #starfire imagine #dc comics imagines #dc reader insert #jon kent #jon kent x reader #jon kent imagine #superboy #superboy x reader #superboy imagine

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the-witches-you-couldnt-burn · 3 years ago

Text

Living with what you’ve done

Uhhhhh

UHHHHHHH WHAT

Ok so I started writing the 100 special but then I got to 120!?! Wtf when did this happen?

Though I would like to thank each follower personally I have social anxiety and would rather not randomly message strangers following me. Here is my public thank you!

Idk what I did while writing this but it seems I managed to copy-paste the beginning four seperate times. This brought the word count up to 5.9k but it is now edited and brought down to 2.3k

Inspired by my friend @deltaxxk who loves angst and told me I have to write a follower special

Other prompts used: One, Two

Also! There are movie references within this fic, if you get them all you get a virtual lollipop 🍭

Ao3

Disclaimer: THIS FIC IS MAJORLY ANGSTY PLEASE DO NOT READ THIS IF ANY OF THE WARNINGS WILL TRIGGER YOU

Warings: blood, fire, death (+graphic descriptions of dying), injuries, grief, human trafficking and mentions of psychopathy

———————

“Robin we’re out of time! We must leave, we’re out of time!” Her yo-yo strained with tension as she swung into a goon, sending their body flying away from her team.

They had gotten a lead on a meta trafficking ring that involved some of the Gotham elite’s children disappearing. The lead brought them to the dock, GothDrill’s warehouse sat just off to the right. Its fluorescent lights signifying signs of life, Marinette knew most weren’t there willingly.

“Make more time!” He snapped back. Ladybug fumble slightly before regaining her footing, she wasn’t expecting the coldness in his tone.

She jumped back into the fray and watched from the corner of her eye Damian take on four goons by himself. She stifled a sigh before punching the man in front of her square on his jaw, ‘must he always prove himself when he has already?’ Damian edged himself closer to the garage doorway of the shed before disappearing into the building.

Focus her attention back on the battle around her, she saw Red Hood downed under a steel beam. She rushed over, and with her enhanced miraculous strength to lift the offending metal. He groaned with pain, the beam had pinned his legs, forcing him to lay stomach down. Wrapping his arm around her shoulder, supporting the majority of his weight to get him to his feet. Pain throbbed in his left leg and they stumbled onto the dock to hide behind down GothDrill crates.

Ripping the seams of his pant leg, she revealed a dark purple bruise that was rapidly spreading. She also discovered the beam had broken his femur and shattered his kneecap, how he wasn’t screaming in pain was beyond her. Pink light danced between her fingers before drifting down to his wound. Jason bit his hand to prevent any cries from leaving his mouth. He didn’t want another confrontation in his state.

The sound reached her before the light did. Jason panted as he looked up to see what distracted her from his healing. Reflections of orange and yellows dancing across her cerulean eyes. “Damian.” She whispered frozen stock still.

Something within her very core snapped and cardinal urges overtook her common sense. Shooting up like a bullet she sprinted towards the blazing inferno, her ears numb to the world around her.

Inside was worse than the burning exterior. She could see where the explosion originated from, big barrels of flammable chemicals blazed white with heat. The smoke and burning chemical gases penetrated her airways, coughs racked her chest.

She could see flames running up the walls and the lit barrels but the rest was black. The smoke was a blanket of darkness that wrapped around her.

And then she heard it. The screaming.

Multiple voices, so raw with pain, masculine and feminine, old and young. Running towards it she hoped to spot Damian but luck wasn’t on her side. Instead she found the trafficked civilians, their bodies red with burns with their hair and clothes set ablaze.

She ran full speed at the wall nearby, shattering the melted bolts. The fire blazed brighter at the new source of oxygen. She directed the victims out, the dove towards the water. The goons had fled during the initial explosion leaving the Batfam free to help.

She looked down at the bodies of those who didn’t survive. Some were burned beyond recognition, she kept looking, scouring for Damian.

She heard Red Robin calling her name, she looked up to see the scaffolding holding the roof breaking apart and falling to where she stood. She felt her body tackled out of the way and another thunderous crash hit the floor.

She was dragged outside and placed into the care of a newly arrived ambulance. Her eyes, red from the smoke and ash, looked out the back door of the vehicle. Firefighters and police had arrived on scene along with news reporters and the public. Families of the trafficked were reunited with their lost love ones and others mourned their deceased. Red Robin stood there, watching her.

“You can’t just follow me into fire.” She croaked to him, her oxygen mask muffling her.

The whites of his black cowl narrowed and his fists clenched. “Then don't run into fire,” he growled at her before walking off.

Her body moved without thinking, removing her oxygen mask against the protests of the paramedics. Ladybug reassured them she’ll be alright and that they should help the others who were more injured than she. She walked back towards the building but the black-clad figure of Batman stopped her stride.

“You’re not using your cure.” He stated. Her eyes widened, the cure could save his missing son, save the trafficked from their injuries and deaths. Who was he to deny the will of a god’s favoured?

Using the cure in Gotham was always straining and the Batfam knew that. On multiple smaller occasions, she was prevented from using it due to the amount of damage and crime being reverse causing serious health concerns they observed in Marinette. But she never thought it would also be denied on an occasion like this.

“I have to! Robin cou—“

“No, you could die.” He cut her off, her foggy mind becoming more enraged.

“And he could live!”

Without a reply he injected her neck with a sedative, her body collapsed from the drugs and exhaustion. The world going dark around her.

+++++++++++++

Three days after

Her blaring phone distracted her from her dissociative state. She was staring lifelessly at her TV, she could say what happened in the show even if her life depended on it. She scrambled to her phone, Dick’s name lit up the screen.

She accepted the call, answer with a hoarse “hello?”

“Marinette? Are you able to make it over we have some things to tell you.”

Her breath caught in her throat. Pressing her phone to her ear with her shoulder she ran around her apartment, grabbing her keys, shoes and jacket. Rushing out the door she rapidly fired questions at him, “What is it? Did you find him? Is he there?” All of which were answered with silence.

“It’s best that we discuss this when you get to the manor.” And with that, he hung up. The click seemed to echo in her car, even though she knew it didn’t. Driving towards the outskirts of Gotham where Wayne manor resided, she felt a spark of hope rekindle in her chest. Although Dick didn’t give her much to go on she still hoped they found him and everything could go back to how it was.

Fate wasn’t merciful to the naive it seems.

Her world shattered around her as she saw the crisped cape on the table. The smell of burnt blood permeated the room. Her eyes stayed locked onto the cloth as she spoke, “But this is only his cape, not his body. He still could be alive somewhere! He is injured and hurt and we have to find him!”

No one spoke. Their eyes flicked to one another.

Jason limped in her direction, his crutch clicking against the stone flooring. He placed a heavy hand on her shoulder, his eyes brimming with unshed emotions. “The cape was found with the body, everything else was unsalvageable except the cape.”

A silent “we’ve found him, just not how we wanted,” resounded throughout her being.

She glared at Bruce, “He could be alive if you didn’t stop me! I could have saved him!” She lashed out, tears pouring down her cheeks.

“And we would have been having this exact conversation with Damian about why we didn’t stop you. The best outcome for this situation was you living.”

“No the best outcome was both of us being given a chance at survival” Marinette screamed at him, his face was emotionless. How could he be so uncaring to the fact of his youngest son dying?

Running out of the Batcave and manor she gasped at the cold night air. A sob escaped her mouth. Her head banged against her steering wheel, tears dripping onto her pyjama pants. There was no way she’d be able to sleep tonight.

++++++++++++

Twelve days after

Fire danced in her peripheral. A medley of bright oranges and golden yellows. She remembered the times when the two of them would watch the sunset in silence, sipping on hot chocolate and green tea. This blazing inferno was different. Its colours more violent and foreboding.

The screams. They were different from the ones she heard that night. They were his screams.

She saw her body encased within his burnt arms. Damian was little more than a burnt corpse, his eyes blazed green and his bone was replaced with metal pipes. The cure resurrected him but he was not wholly there anymore.

She awoke screaming. Not in control enough to remember she had neighbours; mentally pleading that they’d understand. They knew of his disappearance but not of his death. She was still heavily in denial.

She isolated herself away from everyone, afraid she would hurt anyone else that got close. She couldn’t stop wanting to hurt Bruce for making her unable to use her cure or the goons for setting the place alight and killing her fiancé. She wanted to go scorched earth.

She snuggled into his pillowcase, his faint scent of honey was still present. She willed herself to fall back asleep, his scent surrounding her. His pillow, his shirt, his ring; but she was missing him.

++++++++

Two hundred and eighty-seven days after

Red trickled down her finger. It took her a moment to move the fabric away from the dripping blood source but managed to before it stained. It had been years since she had pricked her finger with a needle, but her subconscious must have needed to feel something; even if it was pain.

She looked around at her juvenile pink room. She had moved back into her parents six months after Damian’s death. Three months into her stay and she still had most of her belongings in boxes. The only decorations in the room were scattered commissions and a wooden blanket.

Looking down at the puddle of blood that was growing on her white desk she wonders if Damian bled before the fire cauterised his wounds. She had researched that burning to death was one of the most painful ways to die, it takes hours, each nerve ending burning. The burn victim usually passes out after a few minutes but she could imagine Damian desperately trying to put himself out, only to find more fire encompassing him.

His cape was bloody so she hopes he bled rather than burned. Or maybe he was crushed by the falling roof and killed instantly. She hoped he didn’t suffer for long.

Similar intrusive thoughts plagued her mind constantly but she kept her focus on her art to push through the days. Gazing down at the wound she found Tikki had held her and Wayzz had wiped the puddle with tissues.

Today she’ll live for them. Tomorrow she might live to try her father’s new recipe of cinnamon macarons. Last Tuesday she lived to hear Luka’s new song. Next month she might live just to pat the stray kitten that lives in the alley behind the Chinese restaurant two streets over.

++++++++++

Five hundred and twenty days after

She froze at the sight before her. Thinking it was another hallucination or she was having another nightmare. “You thought,” The glass in her hand cracked under her grip. Her brain couldn’t process what was happening. She hasn’t disassociated this much since the day he ‘died’.” That by faking your death, you could find out who you could rely on?”

“TT, yes. Now that I know everything can go back to the way it was.” She swigged her glass again, wishing it were whiskey instead of water. When they had met, Jon and his family had warned her that he was severely emotional constipated from his upbringing but this was in the psychopathic area of emotionless.

“No.”

“What?” His shock almost seems real. His eyes had widened and his body language was unsteady.

“No, we aren’t done talking about this! How ignorant do you have to be to think this won’t affect our relationship? Won’t affect me?”

“It wasn’t real. I’m here.” He stepped forward, arms rising to hug her. He never was one for physical contact. She pulled back, grabbing a steak knife and placing it between them. He told her he had set the place aflame. He found the lead for the trafficking ring. He planned it all. And now he was back, almost a year and a half later.

“That doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt! I’m going to have nightmares for the rest of my life! How selfish, how, how stupid do you have to be to not consider what it does to someone who cared about you?!”

“Cared?”

“Do I need to spell it out? We’re done. I don’t want to see you ever again,” She seethed. “You think everything can go back to how it was before? Well, it can’t. I spent months of my life mourning over a guy who wasn’t even dead. Who didn’t even care about me enough not to toy with my emotions. My life isn’t a game Damian!”

“I only did this because I thought—”

“I don’t care. Get out. Out of my house. Out of my life. Just get out.”

“I didn’t intend to hurt you, I just wanted to know.” Hot, rage-filled tears ran down her cheeks. She jabbed the knife at him, stopping inches before his chest. She had backed him down the stair and to the front door. Neither of her parents were home and he was more unpredictable than ever.

“I hope you can live with what you’ve done, le miel”

#maribat #mlb x dc #dc x mlb #marinette x damian #damian x marinette #damian wayne x marinette dupain cheng #daminette #angst #major angst #psychopath! Damian Wayne #grieving! Marinette Dupain-Cheng #faked death

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ur-favorite-queer-queen · 4 years ago

Text

Second Chance

For Maribat March day 12 theme second chance

Master List

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why would you say that?”

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

“Desperate to get out here?”

“You could say that.”

“Who are your parents?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I took it off.”

“Why?”

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

“Why would you want to scare people off?”

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

“Tried?”

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

“You're putting your trust in me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why would you say that?”

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

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

“You could say that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, so you’ve heard.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I took it off.”

“Why?” He was truly baffled.

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

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

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

“Tried?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

@maribatmarch-2k21 @birdiesthings @buginetye

#maribatmarch2021 #maribat #maribat march #marinette dupain cheng #damian wayne #damian x marinette #daminette #tell me if you want a part 2 #i'm still deciding

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toastedside · 4 years ago

Text

For Better and For Worse

Batmom!Reader x Batfamily

Warning: angst, fluff in the end

Note: The last chapter for the miniseries! It was fun writing this, and I know it's been too long since I actually posted the first chapter. But it was fun. Enjoy!

Masterlist, Previous Chapter

Batman landed on his foot silently. His eyes scanned through the warehouse, before him was a gigantic machine with empty compartment that would fit one person. He quickly typed on the small computer on his wrist, sighing silently to himself as he waited for his scanning result to come.

“Batman,” come Superman’s voice through the comm. “Are you in?”

“I’m in,” Batman confirmed. “There’s a machine inside. It looks like somebody deactivated it before we come. I’m trying to transfer their data into my computer to get some information.”

“So Red Robin and Superboy were right,” Superman said again. There was a slight quiet sound of the wind behind him. Batman assumed he was flying as he answered through the comm. “The warehouse is empty as well. I think they had abandoned it.”

“We can’t be really sure about that,” Batman’s let out a huff as his computer displayed the transfer data has been finished. “I’m going to decipher some codes. Keep an eye on possible threat.”

Batman grunted softly as he squatted down to take a better look of the main controller device. It looked unassuming and tame while it was deactivated, but one better look alone could tell him that it would be deadly. He typed an override code on the main controller, his lips pressed firmly together as the machine slowly coming back to life.

From the corner of his eyes, he caught a glimpse of movement that he had known too well. “I already told you to let the League take care of this.”

“Yeah, but it was me and Conner who found it,” Red Robin came into the light. He quickly approached the main controller and eyed it silently. “I have just successfully deciphered few codes that might help. If there’s anyone that could help, it would be me.”

Batman stared at him for a few moments. He weighed his options before let out a tired sigh. Figured there’s no way Red Robin would back out now. “Only to decipher the code. After that you leave the rest to the League.”

Red Robin nodded before he dove in right away into his work. Batman lingered for a few moments to watch, but as the machine starting to wake up more and more from its slumber, he left Red Robin with the controller device as he investigated. He studied the empty compartment silently, taking notes in how the machine was built.

“B, what did you type to activate the machine?” Red Robin called. There’s a slight confusion in his voice that robbed Batman’s attention.

“The code that have been transferred to my computer.”

“That’s not possible,” Red Robin whispered. Now he sounded so alarmingly surprised. “It’s different from what I decipher earlier. B, I think– I think there’s an error in this.”

Batman was about to open his mouth when the machine whirling dangerously. Red Robin quickly tried to type in an override code, but the more he tried, the more the machine whirling dangerously and begun to rattle. He lifted his eyes briefly and saw Batman tried to tame the machine, his shoulder pressed against the empty compartment as he grunted loudly. Suddenly, the whole room was too bright from him to see as a bright, white light coming from the core of the machine shone brightly. Red Robin called for Batman a few times before the machine whirled for the last time and exploded, sent Red Robin flying across the room and the machine crushed underneath the rubbles into oblivion.

=======================================

The footage cut off right away after the explosion, leaving you heaved for a sharp breath as the camera went blank. You could see the reflection of you own face on the screen, how horror seeped right through your skin and welled in your eyes. You were unaware with tears that streamed down your face until you saw your reflection. Behind you was your children, all wide eye from witnessing the footage.

“So that was the explanation for your dislocated shoulders months ago?” Dick asked, his tone was demanding and worried.

“Yeah. I am sorry I didn’t tell any of you sooner,” Tim said bashfully. Cass silently approached him and pulled him into a half-hug. Tim smiled in appreciation. “But did you see the light zapped from that machine briefly before it blows up?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I think that light was what took Bruce away,” Tim said firmly. He had spent so many nights watching the footage over and over again, he practically could recite it in his sleep. “That would explain the lack evidence of his dead body. Besides, if you notice,” Tim pressed play on the footage again, and paused right few seconds before the explosion. “He was already gone when the machine blows up.”

“Are you trying to say that machine was a transfer device?” Damian asked, his eyes watched the paused footage before shifted into his brother.

“Could be. I tried to work with all sources that I have, but I can’t possibly decipher all the codes since the machine blow up before I could transfer everything,” Tim rolled his chair in front of the Batcomputer, his fingers swiftly typed few codes that he had known by heart. The monitor showed a half-finished string of codes. “See. It’s all half-baked. My strongest theory that I can come up with it was the machine use the same technology used for Zeta Beams. More or less.”

“So… B isn’t dead from the explosion, he was transferred into another place before the machine blows up?” Jason asked slowly.

“Another place, another timeline, or dimension.”

“Shit,” Dick cursed. His fingers ran through his hair as he stared into the footage again. “If you were right, then Bruce is trapped and possibly having no idea on how to go back.”

“Call the League,” you finally found your voice back. You were surprised you could muster a coherent sentence with a firm voice. “I know what you’re all thinking. But this is dangerous. Call the League.”

“We have all the sources we could possibly need!” Damian argued. “From what I know, they abandoned the warehouse. The machine could still be there. We just need to salvage some data and move in motion after that.”

“I know that all of you are more than capable, but I am your mother. I have my limit. I have lost my husband; I am not going to lose my children too.” The firmness on your voice left no room to argue. You stared into your children one by one to emphasize your argument. “This is their mission after all. You all will work side by side with them. And none of you will work without them. Am I understood?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Now, let’s go upstairs and eat some dinner. I’ll call Clark first thing in the morning, for now let’s just take some rest.” you ushered your children towards the staircase leading into the house.

Dinner was normal to say the least. But there was a growing tension that everyone had tried so hard not to talk about for their mother’s sake. You practically could see all of your children twitched in impatience and anticipation, all minds already long gone into a battle that still yet to happen.

“We’ll find him, Mom,” Dick said with a kiss on your temple at night before bed. You mustered your best reassuring smile, cradled your son in your arms. For the first time in a long time, you were scared for your children’s life.

Sleep seemingly unwilling to come that night. You spent the night tossed around relentlessly; mind wandered far into all possible scenarios that you could come up with. Was Bruce really out there, trapped in a place he didn’t belong? It had been three months without him, you didn’t want to get too hopeful. But a tiny part in your heart longed to be with him once more and wished to hold him in your arms again.

====================================

“Y/N, it’s so good to see you again,” Diana beamed as soon as her eyes caught your presence. It made her smile, as you walked towards her and quickly accepted her invitation for a hug. “I miss our girl’s night.”

You chuckled at the mention of your sacred night. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve called you sooner.”

“No, no. No apology. I understand what you’ve been through was hard and hurtful,” Diana was quick to squish your apology. “Besides, looks like somebody’s a little jealous that she isn’t invited into our small reunion.”

You followed Diana’s gaze, and a smile twitched at the corner of your lips at the sight of Dinah lurked in the corner. You laughed, gestured for her to come. Dinah came right away, a frown formed on her lips as she crashed you into a bone-crushing hug.

“My God, you have no idea how relieved and happy I am when you called!” Dinah breathed. She patted your back gently.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve called sooner.”

“I am glad either way,” Dinah said as she released you from her hug, but her hand lingered on your wrist before she let out a sigh. “We are here for you, all of us. We always will. And we’ll find him.”

“I don’t want to be too hopeful,” you said sullenly. “But whatever happen, I hope it helps the League to find the trail of whoever responsible behind this.”

The League had been called first thing in the morning, and now you had all of the superhero cramped together inside your house. You watched from the back of the room the briefing that Tim gave to the League upon the lead and dots he had connected in past three months. Your heart sank into your stomach like a sandbag upon watching the footage again where your husband presumed died three months ago.

Alfred came few moments later with a tray full of refreshment. He decided to stay at the back of the room with you, watching all of your children had meeting with the League.

“Even though I have witnessed this thousand time over, it’s never getting any easier,” you sighed as you broke the silence. “It feels like I am sending my children into a suicide mission with no precaution. To save their father. We don’t know the threat that might wait for them out there.”

“We never could shelter our children forever even if we wanted to. They ought to spread their wings out there one way or another. It’s their thing after all, they would never sleep before they find the answer,” Alfred offered a consolidation. “The best we can do is to make it as safe as possible. You have done that.”

You smiled. “Thank you, Alfred.”

==================================

It had been three weeks since the last time you witnessed all of the Justice League member cramped together inside your house for a meeting. Your children had been sent on a mission alongside the League. You couldn’t say you like it, but you saw the childish excitement Damian tried so hard to hide from the thought of fighting alongside the League, and opted to at least look approving. You were proud nonetheless.

The house was a little empty without most of your children’s presence as they’re out for a mission. Spared for Damian who was constantly sent home to attend school. Alfred had helped you to take care of Wayne Enterprise in Tim’s absence as you tore yourself in half between your work in hospital and taking the lead for the company, but it was still manageable at least.

Damian would tell you about the mission progress all the time, which sadly wasn’t much. But they still had baby steps progress nonetheless, and progress is still a progress. They have managed to salvage some valuable parts from the machine, but it wasn’t much of a lead to give them answer.

You get off from your car after you gather some courage to walk into an empty house again. The day had been long and tedious, you had just chewed out marketing department this morning and had to tended some patients in the afternoon. All of your muscles are sore and you wanted nothing but a long hot bath.

The house was empty just as you suspected. But you found a surprise as you stepped into the study room to grab some book to read. The grandfather’s clock was opened ajar, meaning somebody must have went downstairs into the Batcave. It could be Alfred cleaning up, but you found herself going downstairs.

Your eyes widened as soon as the sound of murmured conversations come into your ears. You descended down further; head perked up at the familiar sound you had missed so much. “Guys!” you practically shouted as you ran towards your children. “Oh my God, you’re all here.”

It was Jason who caught you first and welcomed you into his embrace. Your other children soon followed and trapped you in the middle, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. All of your fatigue and stress suddenly lifted from your shoulders now that all of your children are home safe and sound.

“How was your mission? All good? Are you guys safe?” come the string of questions you couldn’t help but to ask. You quickly check all of your children for any obvious injury, and you found yourself let out a long, relieved breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

“We are, Mama,” Jason gently placed his hands on your shoulder to ground you. “We figure we might come home for a little while. It’s been a long time after all.”

“Yeah. I miss your beef stew,” Tim chimed in. “Can we have it for dinner tomorrow?”

“Of course,” you said as you gently cradled Cass in your arms. Cass clung into you like a baby koala for dear life, her nose nuzzled into your collarbone seeking for comfort. It made your heart soared and dropped at the same time, knowing that she found comfort in your presence and the fact that she must’ve had deprived for comfort that she actively seeks for it.

All of you shared blissful moment together, all shared some jokes and recite few relaxed and funny moments happened during mission. You were glad nonetheless, with Cass laid her head on your lap, Damian pressed against your side, and all of your children are here laughing and reciting some stories, you couldn’t ask for a better way to end the day.

The Batcomputer suddenly beeped, alerted everyone that somebody is coming. Dick quickly rose from his seat and take a solemn look to the computer screen. “It’s Uncle Supes and Wonder Woman,” he announced, a little confused at their arrival.

Your heart sank to the bottom of your stomach. Does it mean all of your children had to go for a mission again?

The door to the Batcave opened not so long after, revealed two hero came into the light. All of your children were already on their feet and geared up, ready to dive back into the battle once they’re needed. But a strange expression coming from Diana and Clark somehow told you that it was not a mission.

“Clark? Diana? Is everything alright?” you were concerned. You found yourself pulled Damian into your side and firmly held him, afraid of letting your son go once more.

“Y/N, you might want to sit down,” Clark gently said.

Diana gently took you into her arms and led you into the nearest chair. You were still a little puzzled, your heart racing against your chest. Diana then gently placed her hand on your shoulders, her eyes solemnly staring into yours with an unreadable expression. It frustrated you greatly.

“Diana, what is going on?” you demanded.

“Hold on for a little while. But I need you to sit down.”

“What–” you opened your mouth to protest, but was cut off abruptly at the sight appeared in front of you.

You blinked rapidly, afraid that it was some mind trick that you weren't aware about. You found yourself awestruck, unable to move, but at the same time unable to believe your own eyes. You heaved few heavy breaths that sounded like you were half laughing and half crying, your mouth went agape at the sight alone.

“Holy shit,” you could hear Jason cursed loudly. “Holy shit. It works.”

So it was real, then.

There he was. Your husband. The one and only Bruce Wayne. Completely alive albeit looked a little gruff and exhausted. He had some rough stubble all over his chin, and the usual light in his eyes had dimmed. You could only stare and stare, your mouth let out few incoherent noises that was only above whisper.

Bruce slowly approached you. As if he was afraid, but the corner of his eyes lifted up happily at the sight of you stared at him like a deer caught in the headlight. From this close distance, you could see his eyes glossed from tears that started to well in his eyes. You watched him kneeled in front of you.

“Honey,” Bruce said as he gently took your hand into his. “I am so sorry.”

“Bruce,” you let out a shaky breath, sounded as if you were strangled. Your unoccupied hand shakily covered your trembling lips, eyes widened in disbelief. “Is this… is this really you? Are you real?”

Bruce gently took your hand and placed it on his rough cheek. There was a growing eye bag underneath his eyes. He looked so much older and tired than the last time you had remembered him. “It’s me. It’s me. As real as I could be.”

There are few beats of silence before you let out a strangled cry. You cupped his face with your hand, thumb gently stroking his cheeks. The stubble on his chin felt rough underneath your skin, but you found yourself loving the way it felt. “Bruce Wayne, you little shit! You promised that we will die together when we’re grey and old in our nineties!”

Bruce let out a surprised chuckle. It was warm and familiar, and you had missed it so much. It had been way too long since the last time you heard his laughter. “Therefore, here I am. Coming back to you to fulfil my promise.”

You smiled shakily as you laughed through the tears that stubbornly streamed down you face. You leaned closer to rest your forehead against his. “Don’t pull that stunt on me again.”

“I promised you I will always come back to you. And I do.”

“What happened?”

“The machine that I investigated had sent me into far past. I was trapped there unable to come back home, but I managed to survive. Until I met Barry, he said that he able to finished and decipher all the code gathered and redesigned the machine to bring me back. And therefore, here I am,” Bruce explained. “The warehouse was a trap set up to harm me. But Tim managed to inserted some codes before it exploded, so it sent me into different time instead of kill me in explosion. We figure it was a part of Injustice League’s scheme.”

“All I could think about was you. I worried about you and the kids. Sometimes the only thing that could get me through the day was the thought of that one day I will finally able to come back home to you.” Bruce placed a tender kiss on your knuckles. “You have managed to save me over and over again. Thank you.”

You couldn’t muster up any single words, so instead, you threw yourself into his embrace. Soon all of her kids would join and trapped you in the middle. Although Jason acted as if he hated it, you knew that deep inside his heart he was relieved to have his father back. Dick didn’t even bother to hide his excitement; he was just happy his family was whole once more.

That night, for the first time in forever, the night didn’t feel long and tedious. Or torturous. But neither of you and Bruce could able to sleep in a wink, you and him just hold each other close and greedily craved for each other’s presence. No words exchanged between you and him, however. But you were relieved. You were reunited with your love once more, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

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