#wait i just remembered alfred and jason share a birthday

[1birdsofafeather]

Have a Robin Jason Todd wip for his birthday

[brucewaynehater101]

Hi! I have a writing idea, but I neither have the skill nor the motivation to turn it into a full story, so I thought of sharing it with you because *grips you by the shoulders with tired eyes* you have soooooo many writing ideas, and most of them inspired this brainrot in the first place

It all starts with Tim Drake living the good life. He's married, he has an aquarium full of fish, he's Aquaman's No. 1 Rival in being loved by fishes, and he's a mentor of most Young Heroes of that generation.

He's literally a grandpa (grand-uncle? grunkle?) with a good relationship with his brothers and Bruce, and a loving and spicy relationship with his partners (I can't choose between Kon and Bernard so they're poly)

He dies of old age with no regrets, content with his life and full of hope for the future.

And then he wakes the fuck up.

What. Was. Was none of that real? Did everything good that happened just a dream? A figment of his imagination?

Because not only did he not wake up, he woke up in a pool of his own blood within Titan's Tower. Jason was still there, painting on the wall with the blood that Tim spilled, still wearing that laughingly atrocious costume.

This.

This is bullshit.

Was his life too good that the universe decided "Ha. Fuck you. You need to suffer more, Bitch," and chucked him all the way to the past?

Jason notices him awake, picks up Tim's bō, and prepares to whack Tim.

But Tim barely cares. He's hurting in so many places. He misses his husbands. He just wanted his forever vacation.

He closes his eyes and just waits for the unconsciousness to happen.

It happens, and the next time he wakes up, Nightwing is hovering over him, and Batman is walking away to hunt Red Hood down.

Tim takes in a deep breath. Exhales slowly.

And then, he screams, "GET THE FUCK BACK HERE, YOU GODDAMN FURRY."

Bruce pauses in his walk, Dick is gaping, and Alfred simply blinks at the side.

"YOU GONNA GO SEE JASON? WHAT ARE YOU GONNA DO? SLIT HIS THROAT? YA BETTER STOP WHERE YOU FUCKING ARE BEFORE YOU DECIDE TO CONFRONT HIM, BECAUSE BY DIANA, YOU'RE MESSED UP IN THE FUCKING HEAD, YOU KNOW THAT?"

Dick tries to placate him. "Tim, calm down--"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP, DICK! DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS FUCKER DID ON MY BIRTHDAY?! ASK ALFRED BECAUSE HE WAS IN ON IT, TOO!"

Tim was panting now. But he didn't care. He remembered heart to hearts with Jason. He remembered how he and Jason had matching neck scars, and how much pain Jason's face was in when he shared what happened between him and Bruce.

"We need to restrain, Bruce. He's going to kill Jason. He's going to put Jason back in the grave if we let him go out."

Everyone pauses, Dick and Alfred's eyes widened in horrified shock. Bruce's face paled.

Tim may have exaggerated a bit, but they don't know that. Because Jason still died. His heart restarts later, but it really doesn't erase what happened.

"I don't kill."

Tim scoffed.

"Just because a man doesn't die at that moment, doesn't mean he won't die later if he's left for dead.

"Jason is going to make you choose between him and the Joker. You're going to save the Joker. And Jason? Because he's no longer how you remember him? He's going to be left with so many injuries caused by you. And you'd want no one helping him, because you don't believe that the Jason that came back is even him anymore. Ergo, an indirect killing, Batman."

Tim glares at Alfred. "I don't fucking care if you're on Bruce's side." Then, he snarls at Dick, "And I don't fucking care if you know Bruce more than I do!"

"I don't give a damn that Jason hunted me down for some twisted revenge or some shit.

"But here's what I do care about: I worked too hard in making sure that the idea of Batman doesn't get tarnished. I'm Robin now. I'm here because I believe you need a Robin. And I'm going to do my fucking job of being your leash if it's the last thing I do!"

Bruce is just fucking standing there.

Tim wants to rip that cowl off.

He already went through sooooo many heartbreaking conversations with Bruce in his old life. Why does he have to go through this again?! Did Jason and Bruce not talk about this with each other in the other timeline?! Does Tim have to bridge their relationship and mediate like he does when Dick comes to visit?

Fuck this life.

Ahhhh, Tim misses his husbands so much, why couldn't they regress back in time with him?

After a few moments, Bruce.

Fucking.

He fucking leaves!

Tim gapes, he glances to Dick with his disbelief clear on his face, and then he grabs a pillow and screams into it.

Fuck. Fuck-fuckity-fuck-fuck.

Tim is soooooo not doing this anymore. He's 16 again, c'mon! He doesn't even feel any of his joint pains (which may be because of the anesthesia, but whatever.)

Tim turns to Dick with a grim expression.

"Call Superman," he says. "And Wonder Woman, and Martian Manhunter. Heck, even call Green Lantern and Flash."

"Why?" he asks.

This motherfucker even had the gall to be confused.

"Because you're the Justice League's eldest child that they raised together as a village," Tim says slowly, as if he's talking to a preschooler. "Let's not give a fuck about the 'no metas in Gotham' rule, and start giving a fuck about all we could accomplish by letting so many adultier adults help us."

Thank Billy Batson Dick nods.

"We're gonna save Jason?"

Tim shrugs, lies down, and tugs his blanket over his whole body. "I don't give a fuck about Jason, Dick."

"Wha--"

"I just care about making sure that Batman doesn't turn into a villain to his own children. He's already fucked up so bad with you, Dick. We gotta make sure he doesn't fuck up any more, especially when Bruce wants to bring Jason home some time later when he stops being an ass."

Tim makes a mental note to make sure that Bruce doesn't get any mind control technology on his hands either.

He hears Dick sigh, slide his chair back, and probably stand up.

"I'll be back," he says softly.

Tim grunts like the true bat-child he is.

Finally, Dick leaves.

Unfortunately, Alfred was still here.

In the previous timeline... Tim never got a heart to heart with Alfred about all the things the man did and didn't do. And he thought he moved on but...

This is the man who gave him the Robin suit first. This is the man who he helped take dishes away from the table every time Dick and Bruce gets onto their violent screaming matches. This is the man who everyone put on the pedestal, but is Tim's equal in everything regarding Bruce's wellbeing.

And it hurt. It hurt so much when only Tim is witness to all of this man's flaws.

°°°°°°°°°°

Aaaaand then I got nothing else to add. I have no idea where I was going with this but here is the culmination of my hatred for Batman, my disenchantment with Alfred, and my need for Tim to scream his heart out because, no. Tim did not die contentedly. He did not actually die a natural death of old age. And the only hope for the future he has is of him meeting up with Kon and Bernard in heaven while everything else on earth can crash and burn for all he cares.

Hello!!!! I'm so glad you shared this and for the compliments. It makes me really happy to see people sharing their AUs. It kind of feels like a community project? People will reblog or do asks for different AUs, so lots of people end up contributing. I love that this is the direction this blog has taken.

As far as what you've shared? Positively beautiful. Fuck Bruce, Tim deserves the chance to scream, and I agree about Alfred. I love that man.... but only some versions of him. What he did to Tim was foul, and his tendency to just stand aside (to not stop Bruce) is horrid. Fuck that bystander shit.

For your time travel AU, I love that he died peacefully and old before being thrown into the hell that was his childhood again. Even worse, it's during Titan's Tower, so he can't change anything that leads up to that. He's thrown smack into the thick of all the drama and bullshit.

Also, rip Tim's relationships in the AU. Unless his husbands got transported back in time with him, he wouldn't be able to fall in love with them. He'd look at their younger selves and see them as the children they are (and the kid he no longer feels like).

To add onto that, he might feel older than Bruce too. If Bruce is 35 ish in this and Tim was like 70, he probably sees Bruce as a grown adult who's also a baby. That man needs to get his shit together, but gods is he so fucking young and stupid.

Special parts I loved:

Fish loving Tim more than Aquaman

Tim going from hard-earned decent relationships with his family to the sewage of his Robin years

The acknowledgement that Tim was Alfred's equal on taking care of Bruce (and how much that betrayal hurt)

Jason actually dying when his throat was cut (that's my hc too)

Tim immediately getting the JL involved

I would so be down with exploring this AU more. Your writing is also fantastic!

[edgessunflower]

May I please request headcanons for Bruce, Damian, Dick, Jason, and Tim With an s/o who is a cat lover? <3 🐈💗🎀 ( When you can or have time :3 )

Omg of course anon ♥️

Tim

He grew up with a dog and cat for years until his parents died and the animals were given away

He knew right after meeting you how much of a big animal lover you were after you found a cat and despite some of the team being cautious mostly because some of them had never seen a cat up close or knew what they were until others explained it to them

Slowly with time the orange cat you found became the team pet and you all named him Alfredo and he was everyone's furry friend always going around for pets and sounding like he talked to everyone

Not too long after the two of you started dating you had thought about getting a pet to help not only with your depression but for both yours and tim's anxiety but you waited for awhile and soon you both got a white cat you named milkshake from her love of ice cream

The two of you would lay on the floor or one of your beds reading or watching tv petting her while she purrs gently making biscuits on the blanket or one of you feeling the quiet bliss

Dick

He was a natural animal lover for as long as he can remember trying to bring home every stray he found and take care of them even when bruce found out and reluctantly let him have the animal or keep it for a few days before taking it to the local no kill shelter

He immediately fell in love with both your cats Buttermilk and Cookie who you had for years since you were 12 cookie being given to you as a Christmas present from your grandparents and buttermilk from your older sister on your birthday

The two of you both found strays and would take them to the shelter after nursing them back to health or give them to friends or your family members

He soon surprised you with a small kitten he found that the two of you named Kagome from your love of japanese animes

Jason

He always had a soft spot for animals having his own dog Ace who always helped him with life and his own mental state after all he went through

He also developed a bond with your calico kitten named Mitten who always liked to sleep on your chest or belly under the covers and soon she started sleeping in jay's hoodie sleeves and beside his neck

The next thing you knew that sometimes you would get pictures from Dick or Tim with him holding a stray cat or asleep on a roof with a kitten in his jack making you smile saving every picture

Damian

He had quite a bit of pets growing up and still had some of them including his dog Titus who he had ever since being under Bruce's care and training

He immediately had a bond with your orange cat Pancake and was always petting or holding the cat or even sharing abit of his food with him whenever you weren't looking

After awhile of the two of you being together and moving in to a house you surprised him with a new cat you got from the shelter that he ended up naming Iris due to one eye being brown and the other being yellow

And both of the cats got along well even sleeping on your pillows when the two of you were asleep one sleeping beside you and the other beside him

Bruce

He liked animals he just never really had any growing up he can say that he only had 3 pets throughout his life all of them when he was younger

The first one being a hamster his parents got him for his birthday that he had two years before they died,the second one was from Alfred a couple of months after his parents died and that one was a rabbit that helped him quite a bit,and the last one was when he was a teenager that used to be his friend's pet but couldn't care for it anymore and the last one was a rat

You decided as a surprise for his birthday even though you had only been together for 4 months to get him a cat that you thought would help him

When he saw the fluffy brown cat in your lap he was confused but over the next while he soon was holding the cat and even named it brownie

Soon the cat was stuck to him from sleeping next to him,rubbing his leg in the batcave,or even just playing with his cape which made you giggle

[watchtowerindistress]

we are not our demons (5/24) - bruce wayne x batmom

Author’s note: The whole Batfamily is back, baby! God, I love Tim. Not to mention, Damian, my sweet little murder child.

I don't know any American junk food, so I just picked some that I found on an online shop, lol. Oh man, it’s Jason Todd’s birthday.

Beta-read by Axolotyl Alot and Heidi.

Words: 2.1k

Please reblog/leave a comment.

Series Masterlist | Want to be tagged? | Read on AO3

And it’s easy done

Our little remedy

And the reason comes on the common tongue of your loving me

-Moment’s Silence (Common Tongue) by Hozier-

Okay, easy. Deep breaths.

It probably won’t be so bad.

Jeez, please, Bruce, be crime fighting.

With these thoughts running in her head, Ellie sucked in a deep breath before ringing the doorbell to Wayne Manor.

Her body felt like it was crawling through molasses when she lowered her arm against her hip.

The heavy wooden doors didn’t hold back Barbara’s yell, “Hold on, Alfred, I got it!”

Muted chuckles erupted from Ellie’s chest, right before the door was wrenched open. Barbara’s blazing red hair fluttered in the air at the light draft.

Ellie raised her eyebrows, seeing Barbara try to appear unruffled by her appearance.

“Oh hey, you,” Barbara said, leaning against the doorjamb after a few awkward attempts to find the right position.

Ellie sent her a grin in return, eyes narrowing. “Hey yourself. I brought food.” Plastic bags rustled in her arms when she raised them in the air. She tilted her head, correcting herself just as quickly, “Well, candy.”

Barbara snorted, inspecting the various products of Sour Patch Kids, Twizzlers and Doritos. “That’s the best food for a movie night. Come on in.” She waved her inside.

Ellie looked around, seeing everything still in place since she left. The brunette smiled in appreciation when she saw Alfred standing in the kitchen, making drinks.

“Miss Ellie,” the gray-haired butler said with a small smile on his face, his white apron still fastened around his neck. The words “Your opinion was not in my recipe” were displayed on the cloth. “It is wonderful to see you grace us with your presence.”

It felt like she never left.

Ellie’s mouth quirked into a lop-sided smirk. “I hope that wasn’t sarcasm.”

Alfred shared a small smile with her. “I have used that phrase before but with you, it is not meant ironically.”

A herd of feet ran down the stairs. “Trust me, Alfred here used that sentence on Damian and me before, and you would notice a difference.”

Ellie turned as soon as the voice of Dick reached her ears. She sent him a grateful smile. “Hello, Richard.”

“Hey.” The dark-haired young man stepped closer to wrap her in a short but tight hug, enveloping her in his warmth. “Nice to see you again.” Ellie felt instantly at home again when his familiar blue eyes twinkled with delight.

“You too.” She momentarily stroked his side affectionately.

Ellie felt someone’s eyes on her and slowly distanced herself from Dick to find the rest of the Batfamily gathered around the living room.

Wait, what did she just call them in her head?

Damian was standing a few feet away from her while Tim—sweet Tim—was standing by the couch, unsure how to react around her.

“It seems you do remember us.”

Ellie sighed and closed her eyes in defeat upon hearing Damian’s biting words of condescension. It appeared as if all the progress they had made together, all the hardships they went through, was for nothing.

However, Ellie knew of the one thing they both shared: stubbornness for days.

She didn’t consider the Wayne heir as unimportant. Before everything went crazy, Ellie wanted to get to know this anger-fueled kid and help him.

Unfortunately, it was her pride that got in the way when she abandoned all of them. After some time to contemplate what happened, maybe time was all she needed to move on. Not only for herself, but for the sake of these boys.

Ellie bent down, putting herself at eye-level with the youngest Wayne. Damian’s black hair had grown longer at the front, and he was clenching his jaw.

“How could you ever think I would forget you? I would never,” Ellie whispered fervently.

Damian inhaled a deep breath, crossing his arms over his chest while staring head-on at her. “Yes, I’ll believe that when I see it.”

Ellie shook her head with deep regret. “I’m … sorry, Damian. I didn’t mean to hurt any of you. If you thought that I stayed away–”

“Oh, please.” The raven-haired boy rolled his eyes, which were shining with hell-bent determination, refusing to believe anything from her. “Don’t pretend to care for any of us.”

“Damian,” Dick admonished his little brother.

“No, it’s …” Ellie bit her lip and waved a hand, mulling over her next words. Her gaze remained on his eyes. “You have no idea how truly sorry I am that I hurt you, but I’m willing to … come over more often. Make an effort. Whatever it takes to rebuild our trust again.”

Just as long as Bruce gave his okay. She was so not looking forward to having that conversation. A very much needed one, but still.

Ellie shrugged, sending the young boy a soft smile. “Trust me, I got all the time in the world, Damian.”

His big brown eyes were staring back at her, analyzing her facial expressions to determine if she was being deceitful. Finally, he only shrugged, giving her the only answer she would get out of him.

A snort freed from Ellie’s lips before she straightened again. Her gaze landed on the second-youngest child in the household. Ellie’s smile turned bittersweet while watching the boy twist on the balls of his feet, swaying nervously by the furniture.

“Tim, do you want to say ‘hi’ to Ellie?” Barbara’s voice inquired softly next to her, who leaned forward with her hands on her knees.

Tim remained silent as his wide eyes were gazing back at Ellie with heavy uncertainty.

“I’ve missed you, Tim,” Ellie breathed with a breaking voice, sending him a small smile. She watched with bated breath as Tim slowly moved towards her, like he was testing the waters. Ellie was afraid to move even a single muscle, trying not to scare him away. Before she could process what was happening, his arms wrapped tightly around her middle, seeking comfort.

Tears pooled in her eyes as she knelt to the ground, hugging his body in return.

“Missed you too,” Tim whispered into her neck.

Both of them tried to ignore the soft-eyed gazes lingering on their touching moment.

Ellie cleared her throat, venturing a look around. “So, uh, Babs…?”

“Yep?” All of them were gathered on the couch and its armchairs when the first movie of the evening started. Alfred’s drinks were spread out on the coffee table while they were munching on their snacks. Ellie thanked God that she had taken into account the huge stomachs of the boys to be filled, especially Dick’s.

“So … where is Bruce?” Ellie whispered quietly. Her head was leaning down while facing the TV screen.

Barbara sent her a brief glimpse before saying, “Well, the usual, you know? Crime fighting and stuff.”

Ellie quietly exhaled a breath of relief and tried to quench that rising feeling in her belly that felt like disappointment. Barbara studied her facial expression when she opened her mouth to say something.

The elevator made a dinging sound down the hallway.

Betrayal was shining in her eyes when she slowly turned her head at Babs who only raised her arms in surrender, like she truly didn’t know. Ellie felt her heartbeat thumping rapidly in her chest when she turned her head at the sudden noise. Her eyes widened comically in shock.

Heavy footsteps echoed against the walls. Ellie was slowly looking up—and hoping to evade this situation as long as possible—to discover Bruce in his comfy clothes he tended to only wear at home.

He was wearing his dark-brown sweatpants and a gray Henley with the sleeves rolled up, Bruce’s well-toned arms on full display, popping veins included. Tension was reinforced through his whole body with the way he was standing ramrod straight in front of her.

Oh.

They must have painted a funny picture.

Ellie’s expression resembling a character from a horror flick while Bruce stopped in his tracks, rendered speechless and motionless. Barbara bit her lip in anticipation, and Ellie was sure that Alfred was literally eating his popcorn and enjoying the show that was unfolding before his eyes.

“Bruce,” Ellie breathed unevenly and instantly felt like an intruder.

Bruce still looked the same and yet so differently. He still had that stubble which was driving her absolutely crazy, and his thick hair was framing his face. Dark circles weren’t present when they were still together.

“Ellie,” Bruce murmured quietly, “I did not know you would be here tonight.”

The brunette cleared her throat, putting her bowl of chips back on the table before standing up. “Yes, it was … kind of a spur-of-the-moment thing.” Nervously, Ellie twisted her fingers and felt the epitome of unease all of a sudden. “Can we talk?”

For a few suspenseful seconds, Bruce was gazing at her with blinking eyes before finally answering, “Sure.”

They wandered into the hallway, just around the corner, in hopes of maintaining some privacy. Yet she could definitely hear the volume of the TV being lower than before.

Ellie chewed on her lower lip at the same time her hand brushed through her hair. She fixed her eyes on his hazel-colored ones and tried to ignore how her racing heart only emphasized her emotional turmoil. “I’m sorry, Bruce. I should have let you know that I was going to be here.”

He furrowed his eyebrows and cleared his throat. “No, uh, it’s fine. The boys have missed you.” Bruce seemed to bite back his words and shook his head. Instead, he rolled his eyes when he remembered something else. “And probably Barbara too since she misses the female company around here.” His hands were hidden in the pockets of his sweatpants, Bruce rocking on the back of his feet.

With the way he was standing so close to her, it was hard not to get swept in his musky scent. Oh God, he still smells so good. His bulging arms only coiled her stomach in tight knots.

Ellie snorted. She could only guess how hard it must have been for the woman to grow up more or less with no female companionship around. Only full-blown testosterone, 24/7.

“And…” Bruce was trying to wrench something from between his teeth. “I have missed you as well.”

Ellie stared up at him. Her affliction was a dry throat after swallowing thickly. Her throat felt raspy with her next words. “I have missed you too. I mean, all of you guys. The boys were on my mind all the time.”

Bruce turned his head away briefly, composing himself. “Okay, sure.” He revealed a tense smile.

“Look, do you think we can stay civil with each other? If it is okay with you, of course. Trust me, I don’t want to make things weird between us.”

Bruce nodded, hiding his hands in his pockets. “Of course, I’ll be out of your hair then.”

“No,” Ellie exclaimed and shook her head vehemently. Almost like a reflex, her hand touched his arm. Both of their gazes met Ellie’s stroking hand, right before she wrenched it away like his skin set her body on fire. “You should stay with us.” She smiled softly at Bruce. “Come on, the boys would really love this.” Ellie rolled her eyes in humor. “And Babs. It would really mean a lot to them. Please.”

Their gazes brushed when Bruce probably understood the deeper meaning to her unsaid request. That this would mean the world to her as well.

Bruce blinked, and his face softened at this newly found revelation. “Lead the way.”

As soon as they walked together back into the living room, the rustling sounds of pillows reached their ears. Once they finally entered everyone tried to appear nonchalant.

Weren’t these guys, with some exceptions, supposed to be vigilantes operating at night?

During the rest of the movie Ellie felt her cheeks redden with embarrassment when quick and conspicuous glances were thrown their way.

Real smooth, guys.

Once movie night ended, Ellie found herself so tired that she did not even make a fuss when Bruce followed her to the door. But she was lucid enough to draw the line at accepting his offer to stay in one of the guest rooms of his house.

“You know, it’s really late, so I was wondering—” Uncertainty coursed through her on how to phrase her words and if Bruce would even accept what she was asking from him. “—if we could talk tomorrow.” Her next words sounded like a stutter. “At my place. If you want. I mean, we probably did just now … a bit, but still–”

The corners of Bruce’s mouth twitched. “I’ll be there.”

And just like that, Ellie could finally release the breath she had been holding the whole evening. It was hard for her not to let pessimism and worst-case scenarios run rampant through her head.

“Okay, cool.” She nodded. “That’s great.” Before she could talk herself out of it or him, Ellie ventured down the stairs and stepped into her car to drive off.

Tagging: @mellowstatesmanhandsempath​​ @ravenmoore14​ @alwayshave-faith​ @ikranfuad​ @daydreaming-gemini​ @bluegalaxyprime​ @liadamerondjarin​​ @steph21369 @andrewswifes-blog​​​

[toastedside]

In Health

Batmom!Reader x Batfamily

Warning: Angst, Angry Tim Drake

Note: I knoooooow it's been a while since I wrote this series and I actually have finished it a while ago. Just figure I want to share the rest. Enjoy!

Masterlist, Previous Chapter

You bit the inside of your cheeks, your eyes travelled constantly to the watch on your wrist. The iced coffee you ordered fifteen minutes ago already half gone. Metropolis was bright and sunny that day, the weather was warm and nice. A welcomed contrast to gloomy Gotham with its perpetual cloud.

The coffee shop Lois had told you about was buzzed with hungry patrons, considering it was almost lunchtime anyway. It was a breath of relief that nobody would recognize you on the first glance, something you had learned fairly quickly since Bruce had publicly claimed you years ago. If you went somewhere with shirts and jeans and nothing shiny, nobody would recognize you that you are Y/N Wayne.

You glanced into your watch again for the millionth time that day. Was the request to meet up too much for them? Were you too harsh on them back in the days? It’s unusual for–

“Hey, oh my god, we’re so sorry. Our meeting last longer than we expected.”

Lois suddenly came into frame. Behind her was a slightly disheveled Clark, eyeing her behind his glasses hesitantly. Something sank at the bottom of you stomach by the sight alone, perhaps you were indeed way too harsh on him.

“It’s alright, I didn’t wait that long anyway,” you mustered a white lie as you gestured them to take a seat across yours. “How’s Jon doing? I miss him coming over on the weekend.”

“He is fine. Clark and I bought him a video game console on his birthday and all he’s been doing was glued his eyes on the TV,” Lois rolled her eyes fondly at the topic of her own son, something you've been doing for years since you are a mother too. “How are the kids?”

“I figure Jon had been talking about his video games with Damian. He asked me if he could buy one just yesterday,” you laughed. “The kids are fine, per usual. Dick and Jason had been a little busy with their job, so they usually only come over on the weekend. Damian tried to woo me into adopt another pet again last week, Cass been practicing ballet a lot lately, and Tim... well... it’s been a little tough for him to fill Bruce’s shoes in the company but he’s doing well so far.”

There was a little shift in the air after you finished. Lois subtly adjusted her seat, silently sent a look towards her husband who looked a little too nervous to be comfortable. It would be funny to see Superman himself squirmed on his seat if the reason behind it didn’t left a bitter aftertaste.

“Lunch?” you swiftly opened the menu book to dissipate the growing tension and gently shoved it into Clark’s lap. “It’s on me.”

The lunch was surprisingly normal and calm, the thought of the dreading event was swept away underneath the nonexistent rug. Lois had been talking about the newest article she was writing about and Clark was obviously waltzed around carefully to not touching the superhero business, and you played your best to ignore it.

“Lois, Clark,” you started as everyone finally finished their lunch and the empty plates were taken away. “I am here to apologize for what I have done... three months ago. And what I might have said.”

There was silence hung in the air as Lois and Clark shared a look together. It was Lois who immediately reached for your hand and gently squeezed it. “Hon, you have nothing to apologize for. We understand, you were–”

“It was still rude and uncalled for, and my circumstance was a mere explanation. Especially to you, Clark,” you rolled your shoulders slightly to face Clark better, eyes fell into the balled fist on his lap. “You were only trying to explain, but I shut you out. I know you lost your best friend too that night and I am so sorry I didn’t try to reach you out sooner.”

“Y/N, it’s–”

“No, no, it’s not.” you breathed shakily. You had prepared your best for this inevitable conversation, but still unaware how painful it could be. “Bruce wouldn’t want me to act that way.”

Silence now had fallen completely and the air had shifted drastically. The only thing that grounded you from withering away and succumb into your own thought was Lois’s thumb gently stroking your wrist. Clark was stunned silent on his seat, the gears on his mind worked twice harder than it usually did in past three months. Nothing had prepared him for this conversation.

“Y/N, I forgive you. I already had long ago. I understand completely, and I would probably act worse if I were in your shoes,” Clark breathed out. All the tension in his shoulders that hinder him in the last forty-five minutes had dissipated into the thin air.

“Thank you,” you lifted your eyes to meet his. Sometimes you forgot how unnaturally blue his eyes were, cold and calculating, even though the corner of his eyes and the smile lines soften it out. It almost reminded you with Bruce. “Can you... can you tell me what happened that night? You were there with him, didn’t you?”

Lois and Clark shared another look, something told you that both knew what you didn’t. “Are you sure you want to hear this now?”

“I need my closure, Clark. And I’d love to know which son of a bitch that take my husband away.”

Clark told you everything in vivid details, the hairs on your shoulders stood in dread by the explanation alone. He talked about the League mission, the warehouse, and the explosion that had killed Bruce and suspected blown his body into unrecognizable tiny bits. By the time he was finished, you were close to tears, and was pleasantly surprised you didn’t weep your heart outs right away in a public place.

“One question,” you wiped the stubborn tears that started to well on your eyes. You mustered a silent thank you as Clark offered his handkerchief. “Was Red Robin there? Was Red Robin called for backup?”

“I can’t remember. What about him?”

You took a sharp breath, the image of Tim weeping on your lap and repeating his apology played inside your mind like a broken movie. “He obsessively investigating his death, saying it was his fault it happened in the first place.”

Lois tighten her grip on your hand and squeezed harder. It wasn’t a secret that your son was bad at letting go and coping with loss, but it had been a huge toll to knew he blamed himself for it. Clark sent you an apologetic look, and you were surprised that you didn’t dread the look.

“It wasn’t his fault. It was supposed to be an easy investigation, an in-and-out mission. Nobody could come prepared for the explosion,” Clark reassured you, although it was addressed more to Tim instead of you. “The machines...”

A sudden rang from Clark’s phone interrupted his words. He watched it rang briefly before let out a dreading, long sigh. “I’m so sorry, but I really need to take this.”

You smiled reassuringly. “Go on.”

Turns out, Lois and Clark had been called for another meeting and had to cut their meeting short. Lois had hugged you tight and drop a promise to come over by weekend for dinner. Clark left a lingering touch on your wrist, his eyes widen as if he had come into a realization he hadn’t before, but he left before he able to muster any single words.

The ride back to Gotham was long and tedious. The traffic had made the trip an hour and half longer than it was necessary, but the sunset at the horizon was a sight for sore eyes. The chance to catch a beautiful sunset was close to zero in Gotham, so you preserved the moment as much as you could. A little part of your soul wished Bruce could witness such sight with you.

You arrived right before dinnertime, the manor was surprisingly quiet, spared for some noises Alfred made in the kitchen as he prepared for dinner. One thing about Wayne household was silent wasn’t a good thing, and one should be suspicious if it happened.

“Where are the others? It’s eerily quiet.” your head popped up in the kitchen. “Alfred, it smells delicious. Are you making Shepherd’s pie again?”

“Miss Y/N, I would really appreciate it if you didn’t surprise me like that anymore,” Alfred deadpanned. “Yes, I am. How was your meeting?”

“It went well. I... I finally get the explanation I deserved,” you sat across the kitchen island, your bag fell into the floor as you did. “Thank you for convincing me into reaching out to him.”

Alfred pressed his lips together into a pleased smile. “You have found your closure, I assumed?”

“I don’t know about that, Alfred,” you admitted. “But it was great to finally know what happened and not left in the dark. Maybe it was a good step for me.”

“I believe so, Miss Y/N.”

“Are those teas for the kids?” you shifted the topic away into a tray full of teacups and biscuits. “Where are they?”

“All of them are cramped together in Batcave, I believe. Master Damian had asked me to brought them some teas.”

“Let me take it to them. You can continue bake your Shepherd’s Pie again.”

Alfred was hesitant, but he nodded away and shoved the tray into your embrace. It had been long overdue for you to step back into the Batcave anyway, figured this would be a great time for you to go back.

You forgot how much you hated the perpetual coldness the Batcave seemed to persistently have, no matter how many efforts everyone had put years ago into make this place warmer and comfortable. The sound of your children bickering with each other filled the cave and it made you smile, for all of its worth, you had always admired your children’s tendency to find things to argue about.

It was until the sound of fist slammed against the table that stopped you in your track and wiped away your smile.

“Stop it, Timbers, stop this fucking bullshit!” Jason’s voice roared, followed with the ear-ripping screeches of bats that had been awoken from their slumber by his roaring voice alone.

“I am telling you the truth!” Tim said heatedly, which was alarming. You quickly hid yourself in the shadows between the costume displays, finding yourself a better spot to watched your children without being known. “Why can’t you believe me?”

“Look at me in the eye and tell me that was not a fucking bullshit!”

“Tim, bud, come on. You need to stop. This isn’t healthy,” Dick’s concerned voice chimed in between the heated stares Jason and Tim exchanged. Your heart sank from that words alone, Tim must had investigating again. “You have us. We can get through this together. But not like this.”

“TT. Drake, you have started to creep me out,” Damian’s equally concerned voice, albeit masked with his usual scowl and sarcasm, piped in. “Also, you look like you hadn’t sleep since you were born.”

“Thanks for the flattery. But listen–”

“Stop it. Stop. Shut your mouth!” Jason yelled again. His finger intimidatingly pointed towards Tim, his eyes filled with rage and frustration. “Have you heard yourself talking?”

“Won’t you all give me a fucking minute to explain myself?” Tim stood from his chair; his fist crumpled together into a ball clenched on his side. It was such an eerie sight to see him so worked up like this. “Cass?”

You saw Cass silently shook her head. She sent Tim an apologetic smile as Tim groaned in frustration.

“Why none of you would just listen to me?”

“Tim, there is no way in hell Bruce is still alive!”

The roar that came from Dick was eerie, but it was his words that split your world into half. You didn’t realize the tray had slipped from your grasp until it clashed with cold floor, your gasp was masked with the loud clang of the tray hitting the floor and the sound of teacups shattered into pieces. All eyes followed towards the sound, and all were surprised to spot their mother was there.

You saw from the corner of your eyes that Dick walked towards you. His shoulders were tensed, his eyebrows furrowed together in frustration and anger. But your eyes fell on Tim whose eyes widen in horror upon realizing that your unknown presence was lurking all these times. You could mentally see the guilt that slowly seeped through his initial shock, the blue in his eyes waver slightly with the swirling guilt. You walked towards Tim, and from the look on his face alone, you wondered if you looked as if you were about to swallow him whole.

“Mom...” Tim croaked.

“Mom, it’s alright. It was nothing.”

“Ma, let’s go upstairs. It’s dinnertime, you never like it when we–”

“Tim.” The firmness on your voice effectively silence your two oldest sons out. Your hands gently placed on Tim’s shoulders as you shut your eyes and counted from one to ten. “Tell me everything.”

“W-what?”

“Tell me everything you know. Tell. Me. Everything.”

“Mom, I don’t think you should see it.”

“He was my husband, Tim. I deserve to know.”

Tim pressed his lips together, his eyes travelled up slowly before he let out a sigh. “Just tell me to stop when it gets too much.”

[nutellaneedsanap]

Almost a Dream

Jason awoke with a start, the senses he honed as a street kid warning him that something was wrong. It wasn’t a noticeable shift, something a more normal person wouldn’t notice, but to a person with his training it was glaringly obvious. The slight shift of the blankets, the dip of the bed…a quick peek confirmed what he already knew. There was someone else in his bed. The blue-eyed boy kept his eyes lightly shut, feeling the warm body next to him shift ever-so-slightly. Discreetly, he opened his eyes and peered at the figure that appeared next to him, gauging her threat level. 

She was a smaller girl with blueish-black hair, likely of asian-descent, and a wiry-muscular frame not unlike Dick’s. Deciding that she was asleep, (therefore not much of an immediate threat), Jason went to move, planning on getting Bruce. He had only just begun to sit up when she pounced.

She gave no warning before lunging forward, giving Jason’s throat a quick jab that left him gasping for air. Taking advantage of the moment it took for him to catch his breath, the girl grasped his hair at the root and brought his head down on her knee. A telltale crack sounded throughout the room and internally, Jason groaned. 

“Ahhh, Alfie’s not gonna be too happy about that.” His voice had a slight lisp, another sign pointing towards a broken nose. His assailant scrambled to get off the bed and backed towards the balcony, her hands quickly touching her ear lobes. She did not seem to like what she found, her face quickly settling into a scowl.

“I don't know who you are or what you want from me,” she began, settling into a (rather good) fighting stance. “And I don't care. I will be leaving and you will not stop me.”

Jason looked at her, grasping his nose that had begun to leak a small trail of blood.

“What the hell?” He wasn’t screaming but he sure wasn’t whispering. 

“I’m not exactly sure how you do things in France, but I'm pretty sure most parents teach their children to not break into someone’s house, sleep next to them like a weirdo, and then break their nose!” 

There was a chance that the bluenette couldn’t understand him(there was no shortage of immigrants in Gotham), but Jason hadn’t learned more than basic French yet. Technically, learning the more common languages was a part of his training as Robin, but he had kind of forgone those specific lessons. And why would he put in all that time and effort learning French when he could be reading more books from the Manor’s library?

She blinked at him. “What do you mean, I broke in? I apologize but sir, you are not pretty enough to pretend to be so stupid.”

The black-haired boy blinked right back. He may not know French but he does know an insult when he hears one, so he fires one back. “Well fuck you too.” 

The girl scrutinized him, her expression screaming “Is that the best you can do?”

“Oh? You want to go? Fine. My middle finger salutes you and your assholeishness. Calling you an idiot would be an insult to those who truly worked hard for the title.” 

She stuck her tongue out at him. 

“There is a special place in hell for you, ya know that?”

The girl cocked an eyebrow. “I’m aware there is a special place in hell for me, it's called a throne. And those are bold words for someone who literally kidnapped me, but go off I guess.” 

It didn’t take much more for the pair to dissolve into a screaming match, the bluenette yelling in French and what he thought was Cantoneese and Jason using more than a few of the Spanish phrases he had picked up from his dad and other folks on the street. Jason was in the middle of one of his more strongly worded combinations when the door slammed open, Bruce and Alfred standing in the doorway.

The both of them took a moment to examine the situation, Alfred accessing Jason for injuries while Bruce switched on the Batglare™. “Who are you, and how did you get here?” 

The poor girl looked exasperated. 

“I don’t know how I got here!! Last thing I remember was collapsing into bed and the next thing I know I wake up to the face of this,” she pointed at Jason, “creep who doesn’t even have the decency to talk to me! I keep on asking him how I got here and why he took me but he just won’t answer. He’s pretending that he doesn’t know French, but who in Paris doesn’t know French?!? I  mean, sure, there are immigrants, but who the hell would immigrate to Paris nowadays? What with Hawkmoth akkumatizing people day and night.” 

She paused before flopping down on the floor, dejected. “Today was supposed to be perfect, the day I finally got my soul mark and got one step closer to finding my soulmate, but no, I just had to get kidnapped the night before my 16th birthday!” She put her face in her hands and her shoulders began to shake slightly. 

Jason looked from the girl back to Alfred and Bruce. “Is she?” he mouthed, thoroughly bewildered. Bruce exactly as Jason felt, while Alfred’s face was twisted into something that resembled pity and understanding. 

“Master Bruce, may I have a moment with you?” Bruce sighed and turned to leave. Not wanting to be left alone with the now sobbing girl, Jason followed.

Alfred handed Jason a handkerchief for his nose before he began. “Masters, this young girl has been through quite the ordeal and I will not have either of you using your vigilante intimidation tactics on her, understood?” 

He waited until he got a nod from the two of them before continuing. “Good. You know, Master Jason, I read a very interesting book recently about Kate Goodwill and her studies on soulmates. And before you ask, Master Bruce, I do have somewhere I am going with this. The book was absolutely fascinating, the theories, the experiments, simply everything. However, the one thing that stood out to me the most was Dr. Goodwill’s research on the different types of soul bonds, specifically the one that she and her wife shared. Her research was kick-started because no one had heard of their type of soulbond before and it had caused quite the panic for both the young girls and their families.” He paused, making eye contact with Jason. “Their soulbond caused the younger of the pair to teleport into their soulmate’s bed in the middle of the night on their sixteenth birthday.”

•••

Marinette was not having a good day. First, Mlle. Bustier assigned her to work with Lila, Lila of all people, for the end of the semester project in summer school (which she was attending due to her absences as Ladybug and Lila was attending because she was constantly absent for “charity work”), then in the middle of the night, Hawkmoth sends out 1 and ½ akumas (long story), and now she wakes up to find that she was kidnapped by a psycho in her sleep? What the actual FUCK?!?! Where was Tikki’s luck when she needed it?

And ok, sure, she wasn’t necessarily proud of how she handled the situation, but she was under a lot of stress, ok! She woke up in a random kid’s bed with no earrings and no Tikki. And yeah, she probably could have done without antagonizing the boy, but it was so easy and fun to get him riled up! How was she to know that the yelling would bring scarier other people? Ok yeah scratch that she probably should have figured that out herself (I mean the boy obviously had money so it makes sense that he’d have more people around his house) but in her defense she was like, really tired.

She glanced at the closed door that the men had just exited, wiping a few stray tears from her face. 

“If only I had Kaliki,” she mused. 

But no matter. She already had the beginnings of an escape plan forming in her head. I’ll just need a handkerchief, a piece of twine, and maybe a hairpin to pick the lock on the balcony door, but then how would I get out of the property? A house with a room like this must have crazy security measures… She went on like this for a couple of minutes, formulating her plan before she checked out the window. Three stories up...could normal civilian Marinette survive that jump? I would transform, I still have my earrings, but without Tikki I can’t... She went on like this, thinking of different plans and contingencies. The bluenette was so lost in her head that she almost didn’t notice when the three re-entered the room.

“Miss,” the older man who looked like a butler began. “I deeply apologize for the earlier behaviour of Master Jason.” He gestured to the now apprehensive boy who gave her a little wave. “He has not yet learned French and had no way to comprehend the situation. I was able to hear both sides of the story, and I believe that there has been a large misunderstanding. You were under the impression that Master Jason kidnapped you, correct?” Marinette nodded, more than a little confused. “Master Jason was under the impression that you had snuck into his bedroom in the middle of the night.”

“So what are you suggesting, someone put me here without either of us knowing?” I swear to all things holy if this man accuses me of lying…

“I am getting there, Miss. I assume you are familiar with the soulmate story of Dr. Kate Goodwill?” Marinette nodded yet again. 

The man took a deep breath. “I believe this is a similar situation, and that the two of you are soulmates..”

Her jaw dropped. “You mean I...we...what? N-no way.” 

She racked her hands through her hair. She... she wouldn’t overlook something like that, right? You were supposed to feel a sense of belonging the first time you met your soulmate and she...had kind of felt that. The more she thought about it, the more it made sense. From a logical standpoint, it would explain so much! Why he spoke English, why Tikki wasn’t with her, why her earrings weren’t on… Her face turned crimson as she realized the full implications of the statement. She turned to face the newly named Jason.

“Oh Kwami I’m so sorry Jason! I didn’t mean to, I swear, I was just so surprised and kind of scared and oh Kwami, the first time I met my soulmate I broke his nose and called him every name that I knew,” she smacked herself on the head. “Only you Mari. Oh gosh I totally understand if you never want to talk to me again I’m probably the worst soulmate in existence I just-” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the two adults leaving the room.

“You can speak English?” Jason exclaimed, looking equal parts amused and exasperated. “You spent this whole time yelling at me in French and Cantoneese and you can speak English? So much of this could have been avoided if you had just talked to me!”

Marinette gave a nervous chuckle. “Uhhhhh, surprise?” 

At his incredulous look, she rushed to elaborate. “Well I thought we were still in Paris and no one has immigrated to Paris in literally two years so I thought that you knew French and the choice to speak English was conscious? Like maybe it was some weird interrogation tactic or something? I don’t know, I was just confused.”

“You thought I kidnapped you?” He whistled through his teeth. “Yeah, I can see why you reacted the way you did. No worries though, my nose isn’t too horribly fractured and I probably would have done the same thing.” They both chuckled. 

He has a nice smile, Mari noted. (She wouldn’t know until much later, but Jason thought the same about her laugh.)

“I think we should start over.” Marinette held out her hand. 

“Hi, I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I live in Paris, France, today is my birthday, and I think I’m your soulmate.”

Jason smirked, holding out his hand. “Hello Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I’m Jason Todd-Wayne and I think you are my soulmate too,”

They shook, and that was that.

The End.

Bonus:

Jason: You know, Ethiopia can wait for one more day.

Marinette: It can wait FOREVER.

Bonus 2:

Alfred: Would you like to stay for dinner?

Jason: Would you like to stay forever?

[mxsmwndr]

Yes, No, Maybe So

jason todd x singlemom!reader

no a/n, really. jus that i legit LOVE jason x singlemom!readers so if there’s some recs please send them in lmao. (also, i can guarantee there will be more from where this came from so prepare if you can.)

also, enjoy this gif. it’s far from relevant but wicked awesome lmao. lmk what you think of this. i adore jason and there aren’t nearly enough fics for him.

Maybe being a single parent was hard, and maybe being in Gotham made it harder, but the fact that you can have a child of your own? Well, that alone made it worth everything.

He was named Jay, too. After both his father and Jay Gatsby. And looked like him, as well. His father, I mean. He had the same striking blue eyes and the same jet black hair. However, Jay had your skin tone, but that was one of the few features you shared. It was that and his hair style, which was (curly/straight/wavy). But otherwise, he looked exactly like his father.

Also, it’s not important or anything, but it was actually his middle name that was Jay. His first was (*Pick A Cute Name Because IDK And It Would Be Bowie If It Were Up To Me Oof*).

And that hurt you at first. It hurt you, when you looked at your son, because you could only see his father. In his eyes you could only see the man you loved, the man who was instead of given the break he deserved brutally murdered.

The man who broke your heart in two.

But you can’t dwell on that now, can you? You’ve moved on and even if you haven’t totally you must pretend for now. For Jay if nothing else. For Jason.

“Sweetie,” You said to your son. He turned towards you at the mention of one of his many pet names, and like every other time, your heart melted at his glistening icy eyes. And you melted his the sight of mouth, too, and of course his hair and height and his everything, really, because he looks just like his father.

“Yeah, Mama?” Jay said, eyebrows pulled together and head tilted ever so slightly, barely, but also quizzically.

You shook your head for good measures and pulled yourself together once more. Smiling at your boy, you made something up. Really, you had selfishly just wanted to make him stay. You wanted to tell him that no, that it’s okay if he wants to stay home because he lives in Gotham and Gotham is a terrible place. That he’s always welcome to cancel his plans and instead stay with you. That please, Jay. Please cancel your plans and stay home, here, with you, because you can’t afford to let anything happen to your little one. Not like it did, Jason.

But that’s too selfish. Jay wouldn’t understand, and you didn’t want him to. Instead, you made something up again. Instead, you said, “Just... be careful out there.” Then, “Remember dinner’s at grandpa’s tonight. Try to be home around five, okay?”

“Sure thing, Mama,” Jay said with a smile. It was always Mama. Never Mom, never Mommy, but Mama. You loved it. “I’ll be home soon.”

“Wait!”

Jay turned his shoulder, towards you. His dark eyebrows were furrowed once more until he saw you tilt your cheek to him. Then, with a grin mirroring his father’s, he ran to you and kissed your cheek. “Love you, Mama,” He whispered.

“I love you, too, baby. Be careful!”

Come back soon.

—

The ride to the Wayne Manor was... interesting at best. In a polite way, of course, but also... well, never mind that. You had arrived, hadn't you? Isn't that all that matters?

That, and...

"Alfred!" Jay suddenly cheered. He threw his arms around the man and earned a chuckle.

You bent over, gushing to your son about his manners, until Alfred told you otherwise. Then, with a sudden frown, he informed you that Bruce needed your help. He'd take care of "Young Master Jay", he said. And that "you mustn't worry so much, Miss (Y/n)".

But you were worried.

And so even though you were worried, you walked to the Batcave, where Bruce Wayne was standing, puzzled and intrigued and afraid all at once because if Bruce needed you... well it had to be big, right?

"(Y/n)!" The man said. "Come."

You complied, "Uh, Bruce, what-"

"Wait!" A different voice echoed. You turned, and found the figure running towards you to be Dick, Jason's former brother and Bruce's first adoptive son. "Bruce, are you sure this is a good idea?" He said once he caught up to you two.

He was met with a grunt from the former before continuing, "I mean... her life is really good right now. Really good. Jay's happy, he's in a good place and I'd hate to-"

"She needs to know, Dick," The man said.

"But..."

Grunt (again).

"Fine. Just... just don't regret this."

"I won't."

"Um..." You said, looking between the two men. "Is something wrong?"

"Not in the way you're thinking," Dick murmured. Bruce, in return, sent him a quick glare and then motioned for you to move closer to him.

"Look here," Bruce said, pointing at a sheet he suddenly held in hand. You blinked, skimming through the data. It read Willis Todd and Shiela Haywood, but...

"What's this from?" You asked.

"Blood samples from the Red Hood, taken a few days ago," Bruce said gruffly. He was staring at you, waiting for a reaction because how would you feel? Even after all these years.... Happy? Sad? Something else? Mad?

"What?"

Or "what?", maybe. That's probably the best one yet, Bruce figures.

Until, "He's back, (Y/n)," Dick whispered.

"I... no," You said. No, because he can't be back. He died, six years ago, by the hands of the Joker. Tortured and burned and ultimately blown up. People don't just survive that kind of thing.

And also, you were there. Not at his death site but at his funeral, at his grave sight, at the wake and at the lowering of his casket into the grave. You saw his body, it was dead.

Hell, you fucking grieved! You cried endlessly for weeks and weeks and even months! You visited his grave for every anniversary! You came for every birthday, too! With flowers and a goddamned love note in hand, no fail ever!

So why? Why pull this? Why to you and why right now?

Dick pressed his lips together, "I'm so sorry, (Y/n), I-"

"Do you think I'm stupid?"

"What? No, I-"

"Am I joke to you two? I mean, seriously?! If you wanted me gone you could have just said so! I can't bel-"

"(Y/N)!" Bruce yelled, startling you into silence. "I know this is hard to believe, but you need to calm down. Jay might-”

"The fuck you know about Jay! He's mine! My son which I birthed and I raised, okay?! I know him best, and I-"

"LISTEN!" Bruce yelled, stunning you into silence. "I know it's crazy. I get it, really, just... listen to me, okay? Just give me a chance."

"Why should I?" You said. 

"When have I ever lied to you?

"You see?" Bruce breathed, taking his moment because who knows if you'd let him speak to you again.

"The body... at Jason's grave... is a fake. Ra's al Ghul put it there, he... he hired Joker to preform a distraction, and, well, accidentally killed Jason.

"But he also brought him back to life! At least until Jason escaped.... but now he's here, because..." Bruce looked up, into your eyes. "He wants to kill the Joker, (Y/n)," He said.

No - "But that's suicide," You said.

"Exactly. And he won't listen to me, so I need you to come help me."

"Me? But..."

"He knows about Jay," Bruce continued. "But... he doesn't know who's he is."

"Pardon?"

"He doesn't know that Jay is his," Dick clarified. "He thinks you've moved on."

"But I haven't! I-"

"I know, (Y/n)," Dick said. "I know. I was there... but he wasn't, remember? He died and missed it all.... Which is why we need your help."

You looked back to Bruce. He nodded slightly, and you looked to Dick once more. Then, you said, "Fine. When do we leave?"

"Now."

—

[yes, i do realize that this timeline is mad fucked, but do i care? nah. but also, part two maybe??]

[flaminpumpkin]

Small treasures

“Five more minutes,” Bruce grumbled as he distantly heard the door open through his sleepy haze.

There was some shuffling sound around the room and then it was flooded with bright morning light as Alfred mercilessly opened the heavy curtains, the rays of sunshine hitting the Bat right in the face, making him scramble for the covers to hide his sensitive eyes. 

“Very well, Master Bruce. Breakfast will be ready for you in the kitchen.”

He was so used to Alfred’s barely hidden exasperation after all these years that his words took longer than usual to register with Bruce. A frown appeared on his face as he finally realized what was wrong with the butler’s statement. 

Alfred never served breakfast – or any meal for that matter – in the kitchen. 

He would rather shoo everyone out with a spatula full off batter than let anyone eat where he cooked. Bruce couldn’t even count the number of times he had seen Dick or Tim appear in the dining room with a sheepish look, a thoroughly exasperated Alfred hot on their heels. 

Pushing the sheets away just enough to uncover his head, Bruce peeked over his shoulder at the still open door, eyebrows knitting further in confusion. 

“What?”

Something caught his eyes. 

There was a piece of yellow paper on the nightstand. An origami bat, he realized after finally deciding to emerge from the sea of sheets and pillows he had buried himself in during his sleep. He reached for it and took the little paper animal gingerly between his fingers, eyes focusing enough to read “unfold me” written in elegant cursive right at its center. 

Bruce did as he was told.

Dear Master Bruce, 

My words most probably confused you as the kitchen is a place I do not tolerate for anyone to eat in. But, need I remind you, there always has been one peculiar occasion where I allowed you to do so.

A.

Bruce stared at the note, confusion growing. 

Oh.

His eyebrows raised a bit, pleasantly amused. There was indeed one occasion Alfred would let him eat in the kitchen while he worked. What did the kids put Alfred to this time? 

Led by his curiosity, Bruce climbed off the bed, fully awake now as he put on a shirt, and padded out of the bedroom, towards the kitchen. 

No one was there when he arrived, which wasn’t odd per say but he had learned to be cautious over years of attempted surprise parties. There was a plate though, on the little table, with French toasts that smelled like butter and cinnamon and a cup of coffee with probably enough sugar and cream that it didn’t even taste like coffee anymore.

It was a breakfast Alfred had always prepared for him on the morning of his birthday after his parents’ death. He would put the plate on this same table and work silently as Bruce happily ate, the two of them sharing the same space in the simplest way. It wasn’t a grand gesture but it had meant the world to him nonetheless.

Another little origami bat was waiting for him, propped against the cup. A small smile tugged at his lips.

Bruce put it aside before starting to eat, careful not to stain the paper with coffee or grease, only taking it again once he had cleared the table and washed his hands. He unfolded it with the same care as the first.

My happy place. 

(Took a piece of bread. Alfred said yes. Thank you.)

Cass

The dance studio on the third floor. 

A while back, Bruce had decided to redesign one of the biggest rooms on that floor in a place where Cass could dance that wasn’t the ball room. He had wanted for it to be a place only for her, where she could express herself and spend time however she pleased, without anyone bothering her. His greatest recompense had been the radiant smile on her face before she had locked himself in there and played music until late that night. 

The next course of action wasn’t too hard to guess so Bruce quickly folded the paper back into its bat form, slid it in the pocket of his pajama pants, along the first one, and headed for the next place.

As expected, he found another bat in Cass’s dance studio, tucked into the folds of a bright orange knitted scarf. There was a running joke between his kids saying that it was because Bruce always forgot to take a scarf with him during winter that his Batman voice sounded so bad.

One thing was for sure, he would not forget this one.

Hey B, remember that time you told me you were proud of me and then proceeded to suffocate me with your muscles? Just kidding, you give great hugs. Like, super comfy, 10/10. But yeah, go there next.

Steph :p

He huffed at Stephanie’s words, eyes rolling with fondness. He remembered perfectly what she was referring to. 

The young woman had been staying in the manor for a few days that time, Alfred being keen on keeping her under careful observation after she had been hit with a new type of fear gas while on patrol with Dick. She had continuously apologized to Bruce, blaming herself for Dick’s injuries. 

Until the third day, where he had found her reading in the library, curled up in one of the love seats. Before she could utter a word, he had crouched down and grabbed her hands firmly.

“You do not need to apologize or blame yourself for anything, do you hear me? You managed to drag Dick and yourself out of this building while under the influence of fear gas when most would have stayed frozen in place. I’m sure he will agree that a few scratches and broken bones are far better than what would have awaited him if you hadn’t been there. I’m proud of you, Stephanie Brown. More than you’ll ever know.”

After that, she had thrown herself at him and Bruce had hugged her for the better part of an hour until Alfred had come to fetch her for some blood analysis. 

This time, when he walked into the next place of this little treasure hunt, he found a laptop, sitting open on the table next to one of the windows. The windows of the library were wide and high and the spot where the next gift awaited was one of his favorites. 

So he let himself sink in the armchairs cushions and started to play the video.

“You better not ruin this, Todd,” Damian was saying, standing next to the piano in the lounge of the west wing, violin already positioned on his shoulder.

Jason was scowling at the piano in front of him, focused.

“Just take the lead, brat. I’ll follow.”

“Could you two focus, please?” Tim said off camera.

The other two huffed with the same affronted look towards the camera.

Then the melody started and both of their faces softened. It was gentle, melancholic. Almost sad if you asked Bruce. But he listened with a smile on his face, bemused at the sight of his two quick tempered sons playing with a soft kind of intensity together, Jason following Damian’s lead flawlessly – probably the result of hours of practice. It was truly beautiful and he knew that the melody was one of Damian’s compositions. 

But it was over too soon for Bruce’s taste so he played it a second time, closing his eyes. And then a third as he read the next message, only heading for the next place once it was over.

Blah blah blah, some cute shit about us bonding, blah blah blah. Just get your ass to the garage old man.

Ps: Remember your Aston Martin? I think I scratched it a bit but I’ll blame it on Timmy anyway. 

Jay.

Bruce knew exactly which car Jason was talking about (and knew perfectly that he didn't scratch it). An Aston Martin DB5 he had inherited from his father. Nobody had driven it in ages when Jason had brought it up during dinner one evening, not long after he had taken him in. 

“Isn’t that James Bond's car?”

“It is. But it’s been so long since the last time I used it, I’ll probably need to pop open the hood before anything else if I want to drive it again.”

“Can I help you fix it?”

Jason’s eyes had been so full of hope and excitement when he had asked Bruce. He had laughed before agreeing. The next day, Alfred had had to come and pry them away from the car for lunch because both of them had forgotten about eating in their eagerness. 

He noticed a tape case on the board as he approached, in front of the wheel. Bruce opened the door and climbed in so he could reach for it easily. On the piece of paper tucked between the clear case and the tape, Bruce could see every song scribbled, one in each of his children’s handwriting. He recognized a song by The Clash in Tim’s handwriting – of course �� and Midnight Sonata in Damian’s. The other titles and artists were mostly lost on him, except maybe for that Belgian one Cass listened to a lot.  

I can’t count the number of times I fell asleep there while you worked and you had to carry me back to my room.

Dick

Bruce couldn’t recount either.

Although he remembered fondly the first time Dick had fallen asleep in his study, curled up in one of the seats across his desk while he worked on some urgent papers for WE. They both had been so young. Bruce being completely new to parenthood, he had seeked out Alfred who had only fixed him with a blank stare before sending him back.

“Don’t you dare wake up this child, Master Bruce.”

He had actually managed to pick up the gangly child without waking him up, even if rather awkwardly, and had carried him all the way to his bedroom uneventfully. Only to trip on one of Dick’s schoolbooks once there, nearly dropping him. 

They had both elected not to mention it to Alfred and, to this day, it was still something only the two of them knew about.

When he arrived at his study, another message was waiting for him in the seat Dick used to sleep in, along with a gift card for that 24 hours coffee shop that had opened recently in downtown Gotham. Bruce let out a breathy laugh at that.

I know you always listen when I play, Father. Why do you think I leave my door open when I do?

D. Wayne

And here he thought he had been smooth. However, he should have expected that his son would pick up on his habit of passing by his room while he rehearsed with his violin. 

But Bruce couldn’t resist the pull in his chest. Damian was a gifted player, just like Jason, able to translate raw emotions in barely a few notes. It always put his mind at ease, smoothed out his most troubled thoughts even for only a few moments. He had caught everyone at least once, standing outside of his youngest’s door, listening to soft melodies in a rare moment of peace. 

It was silent moments shared with everyone, brought together by Damian's deft fingers. Something he had been doing knowingly and willingly apparently. It made it all the more special for Bruce.

There was no gift when he went searching for the next clue in Damian’s room. Or so he thought.

Sitting on his son’s music-stand along with yet another yellow origami bat, was an open partition. It was still in work, Bruce could tell. Notes were hastily written with a pencil, a few stains where some had been erased. Nothing out of the ordinary for Damian and his creative mind. Except for the title.

Ode to Family. 

Thankfully, no one was around to witness the shuddering breath that escaped him as he read. He exited the room still unable to breathe normally, heart so full he almost felt like suffocating, and walked towards his next – and probably last – location.

You spent hours trying to teach me how to dance the waltz there after I told you I wanted to take Steph dancing for her birthday. I still don’t know how to dance but we had fun.

Tim

Indeed, Bruce still regularly caught Tim stepping on his partner’s toes during charity galas and other events. But he suspected the young man of going to great lengths to not learn how to dance correctly because it usually dissuaded most people from asking him to dance with them. And god knew how much his son disliked dancing. 

That was why it had greatly surprised him when Tim had asked him for help.

“I wasn’t really the best boyfriend to her so I just… I thought I could at least be a good friend and take her dancing? She loves it when Cass takes her in the studio and they dance so I just thought… Yeah…”

Five hours later, Tim had made absolutely no progress. He had known the steps by heart at this point, had it memorized and yet, he couldn’t seem to stop stomping on Bruce’s toes. To both Dick’s and Alfred’s delight.

His eldest son probably still had videos of it, he thought as he entered the vast and empty ballroom. There was nothing out of the ordinary or out of place and Bruce almost expected for his family to sneak up on him and surprise him when he noticed one last, black origami bat on the wooden floor, right in the center of the room. 

He crouched down and unfolded it slowly, warily even, some would say.

Terrace on the second floor. You know, the one where I inelegantly asked you to marry me and you just stared for a good five minutes before laughing. (And saying yes, of course.)

It wasn’t signed and even if the message wasn’t telling enough, he would recognize that hasty scribble everywhere.

Bruce took off, climbing stairs two by two and running down hallways. His heart was pounding in his chest. 

He had been gone for six months. Six excruciatingly long months of absolutely no contact, of not having any means to make sure his husband-to-be – yes, that idiot had asked him to marry him just before leaving – was still alive and well. Six months of worrying, of his children asking nervously if he had any news of his whereabouts. 

Bruce barged through the French doors leading to the wide terrace on the second floor of the manor and, surely enough, everyone was there. Absolutely everyone. 

“Happy birthday, Spooky. Half a century, we gotta celebrate,” Hal drawled with an easy grin.

“Someone take the cake away from Hal. Right now, before they ruin it!” Bruce heard someone say distantly and, next thing he knew, he had taken the few steps still separating them and was kissing Hal, holding him close by the lapels on his jacket. 

There were groans, cheers and something that sounded a lot like someone telling them to get a room. Hal laughed against his lips, pecked him one last time before pulling away, opening his arms widely with a grin. A clear invitation for everyone to pile up on them which everyone took with great enthusiasm, barreling into them and crushing Bruce and Hal under their combined weight.

[liquid-luck-00]

Maribat Secret Santa 2020

@maribat-secret-santa-2020

Happy Holidays everyone🎁

In my defense there was a minimum of 2000 words and there was no max so this ended up being 6112 words sorry, I think. There is some Adrien, class and Lila salt, Adrien gets some sugar later.

Without further ado @eve-v0lution I am your Secret Santa, enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~

Marinette has never been a normal girl. When she was born the goddess Tikki appeared claiming her as her chosen and the next Ladybug. She was born the granddaughter of Ra's Al Ghul, the head of the League of Assassins, the sister organization to the Order of the Miraculous. Her older brother, and twin, Damian was called to be the next Demon.

When they were five, she was taken to the Temple of the Order of Miraculous. she and her brother kept in contact, but it wasn't much more, than 'yes I am still alive, are you?' which was fine with them. As they were often trained together by both the League and the Order.

A week before they turned 10, she was named the Great Guardian and given the Miracle box. On their 10th birthdays he returned to the League to support her brother as he was officially named the heir of the Demon. However, things never went that smoothly. Slade Wilson led an attack on the League killing their grandfather. Damian rushed on to fight the Mercenary. She followed at his side the only thing she said before entering the fray was "Duusu fans" and combat fans dropped into her hands.

Between the two of them, they pushed Deathstroke back. However, he didn't retreat before throwing a sword at Damian. She called upon Wayzz's "Shell-ter" catching the sword in the shield’s dome. She took the hilt of the blade before dropping the dome. The two of them shared a look before running to find their Mother. Together they used Kaakli's portal to go to the Order.

However, they were met with an equally gruesome sight. Many of the monks laid dead, those that weren't were not in much better of a condition.

A single elder survived, speaking of the simultaneous attack on the Order and League. He told them that he will rebuild the order, but that Mari needed to keep the Miracle box safe. In the end Mother told them that she will be leaving them with their Father.

To say it was a surprise that their Father was Batman would be a stretch. Mother and Grandfather only allowed perfection, so not as surprising as one would think. Batman being Bruce Wayne, sure that wouldn't be her first guess but so what. What actually surprised her were her new brothers.

Damian hated them but she loved their antics. Where Damian became the next Robin, Mari stayed in the cave manning the comms as well as their numerous and often injuries.

However, when she did join everyone on the roof tops, Scarlet joins them. A red cropped hoodie that ended a little below her ribs. A long sleeve Kevlar shirt with a high neck. Black gloves and arm guards were holding the sleeves of the hoodie down. Her pants were the same Kevlar as the shirt and was just as formfitting, there were guards on her thighs that wouldn’t impede on her movement as well as knee pads connected to the shin guard. Short combat boots, a red sash tied to her waist hiding the utility belt and yo-yo, and a mechanical mask that conceals the bottom half of her face. And to top it off Tikki turns her eyes violet and her hair to white.

"Scarlet" Nightwing called to her. They were partnered and patrolling the west side of Gotham.

"Yes"

"Let’s race"

"What do I get when I win?"

He held his hand to his chest in mock hurt "Just so you know one week, anything the winner says is law for one week for the loser"

"Make it one favor redeemable whenever and you've got it" she challenged. He was torn but he agreed.

"Count me in" they heard Red Hood.

"Same" Red Robin also entered "Robin?"

"Tt. No"

"Fine. First back to the cave wins" Nightwing answered. "Go!"

She swung through Gotham and dropped into a pitch-black alley 'voyage' Mari whispered too low for the comms to pick up. Dropping through the portal and into the cave. Her transformation dropped and Tikki went to sit on her shoulder. Alfred was there waiting, Duusu perched on his shoulder as well, with a tray of cookies. She gave him a nod in silent thanks, as she still had a comm in her ear.

Ten minutes later Red Hood pulls in and was about to celebrate when both Red Robin and Nightwing crash into him. Creating a mess of limbs over the motor bike.

"Ha I win now you guys owe" Jason was about to rub in his victory from the bottom of the pile when Mari giggled, pulling the attention of her three brothers.

"Sorry Jay but you lost" she, Alfred, and the kwami were clearly in the middle of tea and cookies.

"She is correct Master Jason. Miss Marinette has been here for the past 10 minutes"

"Tt. Honestly don't race against some one who teleports." Damian grumbled as he walked away from the Bat-mobile.

"Don't worry. I'll wait until you forget you owe me to cash in" she smiled wickedly. "Good night."

And that was when they remembered 'Right Mari has the ability to use the powers of several pocket-sized gods' that was a lesson they wouldn't forget soon. Well Tim and Jason didn't forget; Dick would still bet against her though.

Jason found out she is the perfect prank partner. And no one in or out of the manor was safe. How they managed to swap all of Green Arrow's arrows, each being a different gag, was a mystery even Batman couldn't or wouldn't attempt to solve. The fact that the Justice League saw and heard Batman fall to the floor laughing, scared most of them from finding out. Those who didn't learned what happens when you don't leave well enough alone.

School was well boring; between the curriculum of the League and the Order she had already gotten 2 PHDs and 5 masters. School was nothing more than a pleasantry at this point. Father wouldn't let them out of school, something about needing to be normal kids. That only seemed to draw the twins into the spotlight more, because they were the only two blood children of Bruce Wayne. Damian became known quite fast as Gotham's Ice Prince, but Mari became known as Gotham's Sunshine just as fast.

But don’t let the name fool you, within the first year their classmates learned that yes Damian Wayne is scared of something, and that something was actually a someone who just happened to be his twin sister. Damian apparently was feeling petty about something, and for the life of her she can’t remember what, but he decided to write in big red letters ‘NO!!!’ across every page of her sketchbook. She found that out during lunch, and that was when the entire school learned that the little sunshine child was the only thing that can put the fear of God in the Ice Prince.

---

Freshman year Mari finally got her Dad to agree to letting her into the exchange program for the next four years.

So, she decided on Paris.

Why, why did this exchange have to be four years long. I’m not gonna survive this.

Admittedly it started off okay, okay not really but then things went downhill, fast, faster than you could imagine.

It started when she met her host family. They met her at the airport and that was an experience, I guess.

"Mlle Wayne? Correct" a tall slender woman in glasses asked her.

"Yes Madame" she replied with a polite smile.

"Natalie Sancoeur" the woman replied "And this is" she started but was cut off by a boy around her age, he had blonde hair and green eyes. But what stood out to her was his attributes reminded her of an overexcited and hyper puppy.

"Adrien Agreste" he smiled at her, so she did what was expected of her in polite society.

"Marinette Wayne" and she extended her hand to shake his. However, instead he pulled her into a hug. Once she realized what was happening, she pushed away from him and took a step back. She looked at him and her thought of him being a puppy was only reinforced with the look on his face. So, she looked at Sancoeur, while the woman looked at Agreste with indifference she looked at Mari as if she was in the wrong.

This is going to be great. Was the only thought as she endured the drive to the Agreste household.

Agreste would not shut up the entire way and seemed to be hurt that she didn't answer him. Agreste was also the one who was to give her the tour of the mansion. It wasn’t so bad it gave her the chance to gauge the defense systems, which was lacking, and the layout was simple compared to the Wayne Manor, the League's compound, and the Order's temple.

Unfortunately for her, Agreste ended the tour with her room and then proceeded to sit on the bed and continue to ramble about whatever was on his mind. She did try to get him to leave but that was a complete waste of time and effort. Kwami it was like he couldn't hear me or more likely didn’t even care about my opinion. So, she put in her headphones, hid them behind her hair, pressed play to of music and went to unpack.

As she was finishing setting up the bathroom she noticed, like every other door in this house, there was no lock.

Ugh I need to speak with Monsieur Agreste.

She went back out and saw him. Agreste was at the desk where she had set her laptop and was trying to open it.

"Excuse me but what are you doing?" she asked pointedly, having taken out her headphones and set them in the case.

"I was trying to see what you had on your laptop" he shrugged "can you tell me the password to get in?"

"No" she deadpanned; he had the gall to look shocked. That was when Mme Sancoeur entered the room, without even knocking.

"Lunch is" was all she said before Agreste cut her off.

"Natalie make her open her computer for me" Agreste whined.

She was about to speak but Marinette beat her to it. "Um No. What I have on my personal computer is none of your concern" his face fell while Mme. Sancoeur pursed her lips. "Furthermore, I am assuming since you are at the desk, the bed is askew, and the drawers are open and my clothes are in shambles you were going through my things" she was now glaring at the blonde invading her space. Now he had the decency of looking ashamed. "Am I to assume lunch will be held in the dinning room?" Mme. Sancoeur only nodded, and she left the room.

Lunch, if you can call it that, was also a disaster. Apparently, Americans eat chicken noodle soup, a hamburger, and a load of fries. Because that was what was set in front of her.

Ugh this is going to be a long four years.

"Mlle. Wayne, I hope everything has been to your liking" M. Agreste, Gabriel, as he introduced himself earlier spoke. “You have hardly eaten.”

"Would you prefer my honesty or would you rather me lie to you" Marinette responded swirling the water in her glass.

"Your honesty" he answered slightly unsure.

At this she scoffed "I am going to assume that you and no one else had bothered to read the file of my information that was sent to you" he as well as Mme. Sancoeur remained quiet "Because if you had you would know I am a vegetarian."

Mme. Sancoeur searched some thing on her tablet and there was a soft "oh" from her.

"Your son is also suffocating, to the point that when I asked him to leave the room so I could settle in peacefully, he remained as if I hadn’t asked him to leave" M. Agreste was going to say something but she continued "He also has no sense of privacy as he went through all of my belongings and was attempting to go through my laptop as well." Again, he was going to say something, but Mari continued. "On the topic of privacy neither the bedroom door nor the bathroom have a lock."

“Paris is completely safe, as the house is protected, it should not matter if there is a lock on the door” he replied in a monotone.

“I’m sorry doesn’t matter, in what universe is it alright for two teenagers of the opposite sex be in a house where one of said teenagers doesn’t respect the other enough to leave them alone” she almost started yelling, but kept her head and voice level.

M. Agreste didn’t respond right away, but he gave a small hum before stating that “I will take your request into consideration.”

“Alright, just know that I will guard myself and will not hesitate to use force if necessary” she knew they wouldn’t take her seriously but hey I am warning them, they only gave a nod that they heard. “Also M. Agreste I tend to have a strict morning regimen is it possible for me to continue it using the home gym while here?”

“Of course,” he waved dismissively.

“What does this regimen include?” Mme. Sancoeur asked politely.

Marinette had a wicked smirk as this was going to be the lightest of her routines, she could give but would still most likely shock them. “Oh it is nothing much just a 5 kilometer run as a warm up, then half an hour of boxing, a half an hour of sword forms and training, half an hour of holographic combat training, followed by half an hour of ballet, and half an hour of meditation.” She was smiling watching their reactions and it was priceless. “I usually start around 4 in the morning.”

All of them were shocked, and who would blame them, here I am in my 5’2” high glory with a sunshine disposition stating I can most likely drop kick them into next week. “Actually, if you don’t mind, I was unable to do it this morning on account of being on an airplane, this will be a good way to see the city” so she smiled leaving them gobsmacked.

Finally, she was able to breathe as she ran the streets of Paris listening to her music softly. Back at the mansion she had figured out she had an audience less than ten minutes into boxing, but she continued. As she was about to start the holographic training, that Tim, Barbara, and she had created, but by now the entire Agreste household was watching her. “If you’re only going to watch me leave or else have the decency to spar” she shot at them.

“I’ll do it” little Agreste spoke up “But if I beat you, you’re giving me your computer password.”

“Fine, but when I win, I get locks on both my bedroom door and the bathroom inside” she challenged.

Agreste senior nodded his head and replied bored “Only if you win.”

“First to be knocked down three times loses” she grinned. She went to grab her two training twin swords and handed one to little Agreste.

“These are real swords” he exclaims clearly off balance by the weight of the weapon.

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic, neither have an edge” they got into positions and it was easy to see who would be victorious. I got locks and some privacy oh the small victories are truly sweet.

---

Sunday was uneventful, but so long as she was in the mansion for meals unless she had checked in with Mme. Sancoeur, she was free to her own devices.

Monday she would come to regret that it had to end later, but not for a while at least.

Mari rode to school with little Agreste and that was her first mistake. Everyone in the entire school watched her exit the car added to the fact that she's starting in the middle of the semester and that kicks.

She was wearing a charcoal shirt splattered with metallic red paint, a faux caramel brown leather jacket with a hood, black jeans with burgundy all stars. Her hair was down, and a black messenger bag was over her shoulder.

She got out and simply walked in and towards the main office ignoring everyone, she got her schedule and a map of the school. The principal himself walked her to her homeroom and to her horror little Agreste was in the class.

"Mlle. Bustier" he spoke. "Meet your new student."

"Please introduce yourself" she spoke with a sweet smile.

"Bonjour my name is Marinette, and I will be a part of your class for the next four years."

Marinette moved to take the open seat in the back but of course Little Agreste had to speak. "Mari there is an open seat behind me."

It took all of herself control to not facepalm. "I prefer the back"

"I'll spar you for it"

Now she couldn't hide the smile in her eyes or the one playing on her lips "Okay Agreste, but what makes you think you'll win this time?

"Fencing uses lighter swords" he answered mumbling the end.

"Wait why are you challenging the new girl?" a boy in a red hoodie and two-toned hair asks.

"Probably to redeem his honor from our last bout" she was now smiling. Maybe this won't be all bad.

"Then I get the next challenge" the same boy answered confidently.

"Alright" she agreed "Name your sport, um..."

"Sorry Le Chien Kim" he supplied. "Swimming freestyle"

"You're on" a devilish smirk on her lips. Afterwards everyone introduced themselves and she sat down in the back.

They spoke with M D'Argencourt about it during lunch and he told them to wait until after school for the fencing club to set up. So, they did. Honestly, the class isn't so bad, just a little pushy, apparently a student isn't here today but should be back soon. When they all went back after school, that was when Marinette saw her.

"Gami" Marinette ran to the girl in a red fencing outfit and gave her a brief hug.

"Mari-hime what are you doing in Paris?" she asked.

"Exchange program" Mari waved it off.

"Your brother?"

"Not interested" Mari responded.

"So why at the fencing club?"

"Agreste challenged me."

She looked towards the blonde and gave him a pitying glance. "Then you should both change"

"Right" Mari called as she went to the locker rooms. Her uniform was a red bodice with black sleeves and pants, but the gloves, shoes, and socks were a shade of green so dark it appeared black, the stitches on the entire thing were in golden thread. Both her saber and helmet were a combination of black and gold.

They both got into positions when Marinette heard her.

"This is going to be a slaughter" and Gami was right.

Faster than anyone could blink Mari had scored a touch before little Agreste even moved.

"Huh and here I was hoping for a challenge. Agreste" she turned away from him and faced Kagami "Match?" was all she asked, and the girl stood and faced Mari.

Facing Kagami was like fencing Damian. Both are powerhouses and decisive, but Mari's strength was in speed and agility. They met each other strike for strike, she is probably one of the few civilians that may be a match for her and her brother. By the end of practice, she was offered a spot on the team which she accepted.

To little Agreste's dismay Kagami offered to show her around Paris, to which she had agreed.

---

One-month Mari had to settle into her new class. She made fast friends with Le Chien, after their swimming match where she also met a girl named Ondine, Alix Kubdel was next she is competitive with a need for speed, side note never let her meet Jason. Max Kante and Nathaniel Kertzberg were also added to our little group. She met Luka Couffaine while wandering Paris for inspiration, they became fast friends, and she designed the costumes for Kitty section as well as their Demo Album cover. The final and most shocking, apparently, addition to their group was Chloe Bourgeois. Along with Kagami her small group of friends were unshakeable and for the next four years will be thankful for them.

After that one month, a weasel entered the class. Her name was Lila Rossi and everything that came out of her mouth was a lie. Honestly, Mari wouldn't give her a second thought but then the strikes against her grew.

Lila's first mistake was lying about her best friend, Jon, or in reality about Superboy. Oh, she was in a relationship with him. Sorry but Jon is super bi, but leans towards men more, like a walking romantic mess that was a golden moment when he figured it out. The same can be said when it finally dawned on Damian when he figured out for himself. As the amazing sister that she is of course she would tease those two. But the teasing and cooing only escalated when the two started dating. So ya not buying that he took you out, much less as Superboy.

Lila's second mistake was threatening Mari in the bathroom. Please if your going to threaten someone make sure you aren't being recorded. And second don't threaten a Wayne, especially an Al Ghul turned Wayne. So, Marinette recorded every lie, every threat, and every reaction. If she were going down not even the Devil himself would think to help her.

Unfortunately, it had a rather annoying side effect. Little Agreste kept pulling her aside to try and make peace with the liar.

"Please Marinette, can you stop calling out Lila" he repeated for the up-tenth time . They were on their way to dinner about two months after Lila rejoined the class. "Just take the high road"

They were in the hallway outside of the dining room.

"No" Mari stated as calmly as she could. As they both walked in, Mme. Sancoeur and M. Agreste were already inside.

"Why? Her lies aren't hurting anyone"

"Not hurting anyone" she spoke finally turning towards the blonde "What unicorns and rainbows paradise do you live in?"

"Wait, what?"

"Nino almost didn't enter his script for a contest because Lila said she would get someone in Hollywood to help produce it" she answered "It took Max, Nathanial, and I almost an hour for him to submit it on the thought it couldn't hurt"

"Okay that's one"

"Alya's reputation as a reporter is plummeting. She doesn't fact check and believes Lila solely on the idea that 'Lila wouldn't lie to her'. Where Lila uses her blog to spread her lies."

"Yes but no one believes everything they hear or read.”

"Really" Mari arched her brow, Alfred would be proud "then explain how most of Paris believes you and Lila to be an item"

"Mlle. Wayne came to explain" M. Agreste finally spoke.

"Oh, most of Paris believes that your son is in a romantic relationship with Lila Rossi" Mari spoke calmly as she opened her phone and pulled up the post from Alya's blog to show the screen.

"What?" the confusion was clear on little Agreste's face as he also pulled up the blog. The meal for her was quite quick but M. Agreste held back little Agreste.

Mari was sketching in the quiet of her room latter that evening when she heard a soft knock at the door. She opened the door and there stood little Agreste fidgeting.

"I'm sorry I never liked how Lila hung off of me but that was harassment, then I realized that's what I've been doing to you I am so sorry. You probably hate me for how I acted, and I understand if you can't trust me or forgive me and I'm sorry." He spoke so fast and barely breathed as he turned about to leave, but he stopped when Mari spoke.

"Okay. Redo"

"What?" he asked tilting his head.

"Let’s start over" she smiled.

"So, you forgive me!"

"No, I am not forgiving you" he looked saddened "I will hold you accountable, but I am, willing to start a new chapter."

"Okay” he looked a bit relieved.

"Hello. I am Marinette Wayne." she extended her hand to shake his.

"Adrien Agreste" he smiled shaking hands. "I'Il get out of your hair then." he sent a small wave that she returned and left.

---

Okay so maybe I exaggerated a bit, but Lila did make these past three and a half years a living pain. Mlle. Bustier fought to keep their class for all four years. The only addition was Kagami in the second year of Mari’s exchange.

But here she was sitting in the back with her friends waiting for the last class of the day to start. Then it happened Principle Damocles and Mlle. Bustier walked in.

"Mlle. Wayne" Damocles called.

"Thank the gods" Mari stated packing up her things and she walked down. "I would say it was a pleasure but that would be a lie" Mari just finished speaking when Alya decided to open her mouth.

"Where are you going class hasn't even started." Alya smiled trying to get Mari in trouble, but neither adult did anything.

"If you really want to know because it seems you've forgotten. I am a foreign exchange student from America, where I will be finishing the final term." Her words must have made some sense to their one community brain cell because they nodded, and she left.

Marinette flew back to Gotham and oh was this going to be great.

Of course, when she landed Poison Ivy, Harley Quinn, and Catwoman were making mischief in the airport. She recorded a video of the Bats stopping them, of course they were monitoring it because of her flight but I digress, and Nightwing lecturing them while Batman looked so done. Along with Jay-Jay or really Red Hood taking Mari's phone and taking a selfie with her, her hair was in braid tucked into a black beanie with a pair of red sunglasses. A halter top that had a golden rod yellow X on it. The top quadrant was red, and the rest was back. A black sweater lined and faded to red at the bottom. Comfortable black and red leggings with black flats. She posted the videos and picture captioned 'Back in Gotham. Home Sweet Home! Hood give me back my phone.' on her public account, before even exiting the terminal.

Her class will be here in about two weeks and stay as long, but right now she need a good stretch.

She found Alfred and loaded up her bags into the car and jumped in, told Alfred, transformed, and portaled out. As soon as the portal closed, she was in the middle of a huge hug from all her brothers. Patrol wasn't too bad, there was a run in with the Riddler and a separate incident with Killer Croc but that is a light day in Gotham.

After patrol was mostly filled with junk food, video games, and movies with her brothers.

Going back to Gotham Academy was like she never left. In a way she didn't, as every break she made sure to spend some time with her friends, dragging Damian with her. She would constantly text or video chat with them. To the extent that they knew about Lila and her class, almost as well as her family.

Two blissful weeks of quiet and patrols filled with teasing and bets was amazing. Yes, she will miss patrolling with Nightrunner. Yes, he is part of the extended Bat clan, but it is different with her brothers.

---

Three days granted that was longer than Marinette gave the class to avoid a villain attack. Of course, it had to happen when they were visiting, WE. Dick had volunteered to lead the tour, mainly to get more evidence, but Mari wasn't there. Since she was on break, she decided to take lunch for her brothers. The cafeteria food was good but still, and Tim would probably be holed up in his office.

She was in a blue collared button up tucked into a black skater skirt. A black and indigo letterman Jacket, black glasses frames and blue heels finished the outfit.

"Nettie?" Dick asked when she entered the cafeteria.

"Brought you lunch." Dick's face lit up.

"You are a god send"

She giggled as he took the food. "Not exactly but close."

"You going to force Timmy to eat"

"Yeah. Is he still in his office?"

"Should be"

"See ya at home Dicky Bird" she turned and found herself facing her class. Most of them registered she was there and glared at her seemingly guarding Lila from her sight, her friends noticed her so she sent a wave to Kagami, Chloe, Kim, Alix, Nathanial, and Max.

Getting Tim to eat usually proves a challenge. Mostly because he has one hand glued to a coffee mug and the other on his work. Yet when you make an entire meal into finger foods that are perfectly bite sized it is a breeze. She was going to leave when both Tim's and her phone shot an alarm. It was from Dick 'WE 2 Face' In a flash Mari transformed and waited for Tim, opened a portal, and fell into the lobby.

The two of them took out the goons and restrained them before turning towards Two Face.

"The word on the street is that you and the bird are dating, and you know the Bat." Two Face spoke out to everyone, "Let's hear what other secrets these lips will spill." A gun was held up, presumably to the teen's mouth, but neither Red Robin nor Scarlet could see.

He was clearly holding a teen hostage, and that was when they saw the two hanging sausages, Lila. For the first time since Mari had known her, she was quiet, or at least silently whimpering.

"So, who is she dating?" Scarlet asked yoyo in hand pointing at Lila.

"Robin" she gasps.

"What!?" Both of them yelled before Red Robin started again. "Crap when did I get a girlfriend. Scarlet please tell me this is just a hallucination! I swear if this is, I won’t drink a single drop of coffee for a month!”

Scarlet however was barely standing doubled over with laughter. "She’s a little young for you don't cha think."

"Not helping" Red Robin was in full out panic pacing back and forth trying to comprehend what was being said.

That was when Lila seemed to find her voice again "I'm dating Robin not you."

"Wait, What?" Both vigilantes snapped out of their laughter and panic respectfully. They shared a look and fell to the ground laughing. Two minutes later Batman and Robin showed up. Scarlet and Red Robin were now on their feet but still laughing. No one not even Two Face moved because as everyone knows, Robin is taken and no one will be getting between those two, much less a girl.

"Robin" Batman nodded and to the two laughing teens, Robin nodding in acknowledgement.

"No need B" Red Robin finally stopped laughing.

"Hey Birdie when did you get a girlfriend?" Scarlet asked fully knowing the answer already.

"Tt. Don't be idiotic Scarlet."

"Then why is she saying she is?" Two Face now had the bat fam's attention.

"Who are you?" Robin asked the girl pinned between Two Face’s arm and gun.

"Apparently the girlfriend you never knew existed before three seconds ago." Red Robin supplied, now fully enjoying the shock on his brother’s face.

"Is that why you two were laughing like idiots?"

"Well yes" Scarlet spoke up then whispered 'Voyage, Venom' and Two Face became frozen in place.

Lila was now glaring at Scarlet as she began to yell "What the hell. Why didn't you do that sooner!"

Scarlet snapped her fingers and pointed at Lila "Oh now I remember you" she semi shouted getting the attention of everyone in the lobby. "You’re the girl from Paris who said she was dating Superboy." Lila now seemed to significantly pale.

"Are you saying this girl has claimed to have dated both Superboy and I" At this point both Scarlet and Red Robin had moved and were physically holding back Robin.

"Scarlet" Batman called.

"On it" 'Voyage' "Hey Supes your boyfriend needs you" Superboy then took Robin in a hug from behind resting his chin on top of Robin's head. Her brother now willingly refraining from moving to stay in his boyfriend's arms, while Red Robin left to talk with Commissioner Gordon.

"Miss you are lucky no one was injured, and we were here to take action, your fantasies are just that. Let's go" Batman had lectured the girl who could have been switched with a statue at this point.

All the vigilantes left, and Mari sure as hell made certain Tim finished his food. In fact, he hadn't even changed out of his Red Robin uniform, so Mari guarded the door. She only left when he finished eating, knowing he could now fully react.

Mari was walking out of the elevator and into the lobby and you could practically see the change that occurred. Most of the class were huddled together, her friends were to the side along with Adrien, and Lila was practically glued to the teacher.

She spotted Alfred with Dick not far from her friends, so she decided to go over and speak with her friends.

Unfortunately, that just caused hell's gates to open as she approached, she heard. "You knew she was a liar didn't you" Alya yelled at her friends and Agreste, but Alya was specifically yelling at Agreste. That made her blood boil, so she stepped in.

"Yes, but you didn't believe me when I told you, you didn't believe them either" Mari was now standing between her friends and the blogger. "Agreste didn't want to rock the boat and how you were all treating me it is no wonder."

"Ya but she is a liar, and you are a bully" Alya retorted.

"Was I a bully. Or was that what you were told by the liar" Alya now went quiet. Of the almost four years she was in Paris there was never any proof she bullied Lila. No bruises, no destroyed items, just she said claims. "Yes, I called her out on her lies but that was all. You all were the ones who acted on her words that I bullied her with no proof and bullied me to ‘teach me a lesson'. I have more than enough evidence however, on most of this class and the liar, for cases of assault, slander, defamation of character, and destruction of property."

By now everyone in the lobby was watching this unfold. The class seemed to pale and attempted to shrink in on themselves. Lila and Mlle. Bustier seemed to try to become one with the floor. Her friends were to the side struggling to not laugh along with Dick and Chloe you traitor put down that phone.

"Miss Wayne" an employee came up to Mari seemingly afraid to get her undivided attention.

"Yes" She smiled, becoming Gotham's sunshine that everyone knew, allowing the employee and the other Gothamites to relax.

"The CEO has locked himself in his office and the Board meeting starts in three minutes" the employee fidgeted with the tablet in his hands. That snapped her into professional mode.

"Dick is the tour done?" she held out her hand to take the tablet, opened it and started going trough the documents.

"Ya"

"Go dig Tim from his office. I'll deal with the board."

"On it"

She quickly looked up to her friends "Sorry guys we should catch up later." She walked away the employee on her heels giving her more information.

A whistle was heard next to the group. "Damn I feel bad for the Board members, Mars is on a warpath and not her usual professional warpath" Dick said to Alfred.

"Reminiscent of Master Bruce even" was Alfred's response.

"She really is a Wayne"

"Master Richard"

"Yes Alfred"

"I believe it is in your best interest to retrieve Master Timothy as Miss Marinette is on a 'Warpath' as you say" Alfred barely finished as Dick began to sprint to the elevator. Alfred only sighed as he followed the eldest Wayne child, leaving very bewildered and mortified Parisians in their wake.

[redrobinfection]

Alfred’s Favorite Barbara

Babs & Alfred || Read on Ao3 || Happy Birthday, Barbara Gordon! ❤

<< A sequel to last year’s “Batgirls’ Favorite Mentor” 

~*~

Barbara leaned forward and spit out the toothpaste Cass had let her use, on one of the many spare toothbrushes Alfred kept in the guest toiletries stockpile, then leaned back in her chair with a sigh and considered her mostly-put-together-again reflection in the bathroom mirror.

Wow, that had certainly been a party of a night, she mused, ruefully lifting a strand of her sleep-mussed auburn locks before deciding that pulling it back in a bun was really the only dignified solution.

Steph and Cass had kept her up all night--not like that was all that much different from her usual schedule, but mani, pedi, facials, horrible (great) superhero movies, and gossip until dawn had worn her out more than she would have expected. Although, the wine that had snuck into the mix right when the mani-pedis were left to dry and the third movie went in might have had something to do with it, she conceded with a smirk at herself in the mirror. It wasn't a bad sort of tired, she admitted as she tucked few stray hairs into her messy bun, but she was more than ready for a day to rest, recover and recharge.

Just after dawn, Alfred had invaded the sanctum of their home theater encampment to invite them up to the kitchen for a hearty breakfast. There he had laid out toast, eggs, bacon, sausage, fruit, juices, teas, coffee, pancakes and even some of the real cake from the night before--a rare breach of protocol from the prim and proper butler that Barbara took as a one-time gesture of affectionate indulgence of their whims--which eventually drew out the other occupants of the house, turning breakfast the morning after into as much of a party as dinner the night before had been.

After that, Alfred had shooed Steph and Cass off to bed and shown Barbara up to her regular guest room where the bed had already been turned down, the pillows fluffed and the blackest of blackout curtains tightly drawn, bless that man. After a few hours of much needed sleep, it was now just past noon, most of the manor's occupants were either still sleeping or out living their daylight personas, and Alfred had offered to drive her back to the Clocktower after she had "freshened up a bit".

Satisfied that she had done as much as she could to make herself decent for the drive of shame, Barbara gathered her things and made her way down the hall to the elevator. Alfred was waiting for her when the doors opened on the civilian garage.

"Ah, Miss Barbara, I take it you're ready to depart?"

"Yes. Thank you for driving me back, Alfred."

"Of course, it's my pleasure."

He led the way toward their several limousines, opened the door to one very special vehicle and began extending and lowering a long ramp. Barbara pressed her lips together to hide a smile as Alfred stepped to one side and let her wheel herself up the shallow incline. He retracted the ramp, closed the door and slid into the driver's seat while she positioned herself in the sleek interior and locked the wheels of her chair.

"Thanks again, Alfred. For everything," Barbara added as they pulled out of the garage. "Last night, this morning...it was all amazing and it must have been so much work--extra work--for you. I really appreciate it."

She saw his eyebrows rise in the rear-view mirror as he replied, "Of course. It was no trouble; I would hardly label hosting a small dinner in honor of and giving accommodations to one of my favorite persons "work". It was a pleasure, Miss Barbara."

She raised an eyebrow in turn. "Oh really? A fairly large dinner, putting up with the mess we all made in the theater afterwards, and putting together a big breakfast in the morning--and driving me back after letting me stay over, even when I'm sure you've got plenty of cleaning up to do? 'Favorite person' huh? If I didn't know better I'd think you were buttering me up for something, Alfred Pennyworth," she teased, sharing a knowing look with him in the mirror.

He didn't laugh out loud, but his eyes twinkled in that way Barbara knew meant he was amused rather than offended. "My word! Is it so hard to believe that an old man would take pleasure in doing what little he could to celebrate the birthday of his favorite Barbara."

Barbara did laugh out loud. "Your favorite...huh! First Jason calls me his favorite, then Tim and Dick, then Steph and Cass... and now you? All of you in less than twenty-four hours? Did you all have a meeting to discuss the topic or am I about to go home to one of the hardest cases of all time and you're all buttering me up to it?"

"I believe the subject had come up recently," Alfred replied evenly. "You do so much for this family and receive so little appreciation..."

"That's my line," Barbara muttered incredulously with a minute shake of her head.

"...and I'll have you know that of all the Barbaras I've had the pleasure of knowing, you most certainly rank supreme."

Barbara huffed a laugh through her nose. "And how many Barbaras is that exactly?"

Alfred met her eyes in the mirror and fixed her with an impressive look. "When you've lived as long as I have, served as long as I have, you come to know a great many people. Among all of those... you are rare soul indeed, Barbara. Surely one to celebrate and to venerate."

That gave her pause. What are you supposed to say to something like that? She didn't know, so she let the silence stretch and turned her gaze to the traffic speeding past her window while her true focus turned to beating down the bloom of color that had flooded her cheeks at Alfred's unexpected pronouncement. 

They rode in silence--not an uncomfortable silence, but Barbara still felt the weight of those words still hanging heavy between them--for the rest of the drive. They'd caught the lull between the lunch-hour jam and afternoon rush-hour traffic--likely a strategic choice on Alfred's part--so it only took about twenty minutes to make the trip into the city. 

Alfred graciously helped her disembark, escorted her to the ground level door to the tower, and--to her surprise--asked to walk her in, pulling a cooler bag from somewhere with leftovers from the revelries. Barbara invited him in, sending him ahead of her with repeated thanks, but the words of appreciation died in her throat as she rolled over the threshold and took in the interior of her homebase. 

She wasn't a slob, per se, but Barbara knew she didn't tidy up around the Tower quite as often as she should, and she cleaned the place even less frequently. It was a lot of real estate for one person--a person with certain mobility issues, at that--and a small army of specially programmed Roombas and some casual dusting here and there could only do so much. 

But today, her foyer was spotless. All the coats, umbrellas and other detritus were neatly hung or stacked in their places. The tile was a shade lighter than she remembered and the grout was actually white--she'd actually thought it was tan up until now. 

Moving into her apartment showed the same story. Shelves of books and knick-knacks were freshly dusted, the rugs had been deeply vaccuumed, and personal items had been put away or neatly arranged. Every surface gleamed.

She turned to Alfred with an accusing look. "Alfred... did you...?" One look at his quietly pleased expression was answer enough. "When did you even find the time to come over here and do this? Did you clean the whole Tower?" She wouldn't doubt it. She didn't bother to ask him how he got into her super-secure, high-tech lair--this is the ex-MI6 agent who raised Bruce, after all--but given the timeline of events, it shouldn't have been possible for him to clean all this by himself and do everything he did for them while she was at the manor. 

"We did, in fact, clean the entire tower--and we took great care not to disturb any of your things in the command center, mind you--but it hardly took any time at all with Masters Damian and Timothy along to help. In fact, we were in and out well before you rose from your nap this morning."

Barbara's eyebrow rose into her hair. Alfred had wrangled Tim and Damian--in the morning, of all times--into cleaning? Together? Without killing each other? 

"Wow, Alfred, you got Tim and Damian to work together to do all of this...? At eight in the morning? You're a miracle worker, for sure. I can't tell you how much I appreciate this.

"Really, Alfred...this--" she gestured to rooms around them "--the party, the sleepover, and then breakfast... you've done so much. Thank you. It means a lot to me, but, really, you didn't need to do all this. It's... it’s too much..." 

Alfred looked away for a moment, his expression uncharacteristically sheepish. "Ah, well. Yes. I admit, I may have gone a bit overboard..."

They entered the kitchen and Barbara came to a complete stop. The appliances shone, the stove was spotless, and, for once, the sink was completely free of dishes. But that wasn't what stopped her dead in her tracks. 

On the polished kitchen table, laid out elegantly on a freshly washed and pressed table cloth that Barbara had forgotten she even owned, was a handsome tea set in lustrous lavender and gold--one pot, saucers, cups, sugar cellar and creamer. To one side sat a few varieties of Alfred's favorite teas, and on the other a plate piled high with Alfred’s signature tea cakes, one of her favorite things about visiting the manor for pre-patrol briefings or post-patrol debriefings, back in the day. A recipe card stuck out under the plate.

Barbara turned to Alfred, her vision going misty. "Alfred..."

Alfred graced her with a rare smile, beaming down at her, his expression fond, but his voice was quiet, "For when you need a break from Master Tim's gift of espresso or a moment of peace after along night."

Barbara broke out into a teary smile of her own and raised her arms, reaching out for a hug before she thought it through. Alfred surprised her yet again, leaning down to accept her embrace. 

"Really, thank you, Alfred. For everything," Barbara murmured into his shoulder before he could pull away again.

He didn't. Instead, he replied, so quietly Barbara almost missed it,

"Anything for one of my favorite granddaughters."

[choco-glow]

Day of the Dead (Robin)

April 27th.

The bed shifted, creaked as Bruce dragged himself up out of the comfort of his way too expensive (and totally worth it) mattress, followed reluctantly by an equally exhausted Selina. He insisted she use the bathroom first, taking that time to rub his face and scalp, forcing himself into an alertness that he didn’t feel…and Bruce ignored his constantly buzzing phone. He could hear Alfred puttering around in his own room down the hall, Damian’s near silent footsteps alongside his dog’s as the youngest Wayne limped down to let Titus out. Tim…Bruce sighed, knowing that Tim one of two places; passed out in the chair in front of the computer down in the cave, or passed out on the couch in the library, his laptop on the floor.

Either way, he was sleeping, most likely, and Bruce was going to take advantage of that.

“Hey.” He glanced up, and the smile on his lips was small, but real; she looked so good leaning against the doorway in nothing but her underwear and one of his old band tees, tousled hair sticking to her forehead from her shower, a sweet smile on her face, those familiar green-blue eyes always so dark in the morning. Bruce dragged himself upright to wrap her up in his arms, hugging her tight, and Selina melted against him, nuzzling his cheek. “Bruce…”

“Thank you for staying…” He murmured, gratitude thick in his voice, and she patted his bicep, popping up on her tiptoes to kiss his nose.

“Of course, sweetheart. Go wash up and get dressed, I’ll head down and help Alfred with breakfast?”

“Selina, you don’t have to…” She shook her head, chuckling, and he chuckled back, ignoring his impulse to just turn away and go brood. Brooding wouldn’t help today…

“I want to. I know what today is…and why it’s so hard.” He ducked his head, swallowing his next word, and she cupped his cheek. “Bruce. I mean it. Jason…” He lifted his head, blue eyes tired but crinkled from a weary smile.

“I miss him.”

“I do too. Go on. We’ll be waiting for you.” He nodded, and after a lingering kiss, despite Cat’s aversion to morning breath, Bruce let her go. The shower was hot enough to wash away some of the pain from his shoulder and upper back, and after washing up, he carefully redressed the bandage on his thigh, then pulled on a pair of old jeans and a tee shirt. It was Saturday, thankfully, so Bruce didn’t have to worry about a suit, and making his way down the stairs, he was glad to see visitors…especially these visitors.

Four years…four years, he’s been gone now. His heart twinged, but Bruce didn’t have to hold up a mask around Dick, who hugged him tight as soon as his first Robin saw him, nor around Barb, who he knelt to hug as well. Steph looked a little lost, a little nervous to be here, and Bruce hugged her too, whispering thanks to her as he’d done to the rest, and if Steph hugged his waist a little harder, her voice a little thick…well, Bruce wasn’t going to tell.

“Father, Alfred the cat is most worried about you.” Bruce paused as he set Steph back on her feet, turning to face Damian, who was holding his purring tuxedo cat and looking concerned…and Bruce couldn’t help the tiny, choked sob, because Damian looked so much like Jason at that age, his whole being focused on “comfort father”.

“So I see. May I hold him?” Damian nodded, and Bruce gently took the cat, smiling as Alfred bumped noses with him and settled on his shoulder, purring deeper still. “Thank you, Damian…”

“This is an auspicious day; we need all the comfort we can receive…” He murmured, and Bruce hugged his youngest tight, tears spilling over now…and Damian hugged him back, clinging to him tight.

“That’s…that’s true…c’mon everyone, we better get into the kitchen before Alfred the butler and Selina yell at us.” He murmured, and Dick chuckled while Barb smiled and took the lead. Damian pulled away from the hug, but not from Bruce, and they walked in hand in hand, taking comfort from one another. Jason’s photo, the last one taken two weeks before he died, was sitting on the counter, as always, with a candle lit…and the new addition of a tin can with the label meticulously soaked off, full of dandelions, and Bruce paused by it, lips twitching up in a fond smile.

“Master Bruce, I hope you don’t mind…I wanted…well…I remember Jason making those bouquets for us when he was a child…” Alfred murmured, and Bruce just pulled him into a hug, tears running hot down his cheeks now.

“I can’t think of a better thing…It’s perfect. Best bunch of flowers that’s ever entered this house.” They all shared a laugh at that, though Selina, Steph, and Damian looked a little confused, and it was Dick who explained, his voice warm and fond as he remembered all the times Jason would prowl the Wayne grounds, plucking dandelions and purple clovers, filling an old coffee can or tin can full to the brim and bringing them back to the house to share, his smile bright and happy.

“…At first, we offered him the flowers from the garden, and Jason just shook his head, looking scared, and said that he got in trouble for pulling those. No one cared about the wildflowers.”

“Oh, what a sweetheart…” Selina breathed, and Bruce and Alfred settled at the table at last, which prompted Dick to pass them the plate of pancakes and motion to fill up.

“He really was…c’mon, let’s eat, best way to remember our boy.”

“Here here! And whatever we do, avoid Buzzfeed today.” Barb raised her OJ in a toast, and Bruce closed his eyes with a sigh.

“God, I hate Buzzfeed…”

“Same here, old man. Same here.”

—-

Six months I’ve been back, and not a Bat to bother me. Jason settled in for a quiet Saturday morning, and ignored cable for a change; he knew what was going to be all over the news today, and he, for one, didn’t want to hear yet another poignant portrayal of his death. At least Bruce wouldn’t be out in public today; he’d learned that from running through the old news stories from the last few years, and frankly, Jason was grateful for it. It…meant that Bruce at least care enough to mourn him. Even if the goddamn Joker is still alive…

He sighed, and pushed away the anger he still felt at that fact, and pulled out his guns, then pulled up YouTube on his TV. He scrolled through his usual recommended list, feeling…restless and a little out of his element; it was the first death day he’d spent back in Gotham, and his normal goofy favorites just…weren’t going to cut it. Then he saw the one video he didn’t expect to see.

Buzzfeed Unsolved: Jason Todd, Wayne or Robin?

A grin split his face.

“Well, I’ll be damned.”

—-

“Welcome to Buzzfeed Unsolved. I’m Ryan Bergera, and this is Shane Madej. Today, we are covering the mysterious deaths of two important people in the deadly metropolis that is Gotham City…or are we?”

“Wait, what?”

“Jason Todd Wayne, the adopted son of billionaire Bruce Wayne, and the second Boy Wonder, Robin, both of whom disappeared the same day, April 27th…and have never been heard from again.”

“Ryan, you said it was one murder!”

“And therein lays our mystery, because the more you hear details of the case, the more you wonder if these two boys were really the same person.”

“Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh…I smell a conspiracy!”

“Shane, you smell lunch.”

“And a conspiracy! C’mon, out with details, gimme something, Bergera.”

“Hold your freakin’ horses, dude, lemme go over things…” Jason watched with unconcealed delight as he disassembled his pistol, cleaning each part as Ryan laid out the admittedly sparse facts of the case; of course, Jason knew the truth, but he was frankly somewhat impressed with the story that Bruce and Alfred had concocted. Of course, they couldn’t say the Joker beat him to death with a crowbar and blew up a building on him ( and even Bruce couldn’t have guessed that Talia al Ghul had stolen his corpse from the morgue, gave them an equally beaten dead kid to bury, and dumped his ass in the Lazarus Pit). But the story of Jason being killed as a hit out on the Wayne family was all too likely.

Batman had a lot of enemies.

Bruce Wayne had a lot more.

“No one was ever charged for Jason’s murder…here’s the last video of the press conference where Bruce explains things.”

“…Jesus, he’s barely keeping it together…I know he’s a billionaire, but he’s got a lot of heart…poor guy…”

“Yeah…I know we tend to fuck around on this channel, but…this kid died. Pretty badly, from what the evidence shows.”

“Man…so, you said there were theories, right?”

“Yeah, and they only get worse from here.”

“Well, we started the program with a dead kid; can’t get any worse than that.” Jason paused the video and just…stared at Bruce’s face, the tears on his cheeks, his exhausted appearance…and sighed a little.

“Sorry Dad…”

—-

“Theory number one: Dick Grayson killed Jason Todd out of jealousy. It was rumored that the brothers didn't get along and Dick and his father didn't have a good relationship when Jason came to the household.” Jason’s eyes narrowed at that one; whoever thought up that crock of shit had another thing coming. Sure, he and Dick had bickered like brothers, but at the end of the day, Dick was his brother from another mother. Even now, even with everything that had happened…Jason missed those hugs something fierce.

“I mean, that’s a pretty cut and dry one…”

“So it would seem…but if you look at the interviews, there’s nothing in Dick’s demeanor that shows any resentment or anger. And both Jason and Dick were orphaned at early ages and adopted by Bruce, so…”

“Yeah, I dunno. It’s cut and dry, but…at the same time, it doesn’t really make sense.”

“Especially given that Dick every year celebrates Jason’s birthday; I mean, killers can be weird, we know that from the last several seasons, but…I dunno. It doesn’t really fit.”

“Probably some asshole detective looking to close it up.”

“Probably…”

“On to number two!”

—-

“Bruce Wayne killed Jason Todd. This was, actually, the first big conspiracy theory to hit the web. Thankfully, it quickly died when people saw just how devastated Bruce was for months after his death, but apparently there are still some trolls on public forums who accuse Bruce Wayne of killing his son.”

“…That’s utter bullshit. Fuckers.”

“Right there with ya, buddy. Right there with ya. Onto three?”

“Please.”

—-

“Jason isn't dead, because of sightings of a homeless boy who wandered all around Crime Alley and looked exactly like Jason Todd. He was completely battered and bruised and suddenly disappeared after a year in the streets, likely due to a trafficking ring.” Jason raised an eyebrow at that, and turned his AK, Shane and Ryan’s incredulousness a comfort. He wasn’t sure why he was still watching this, but…it was kinda nice. Nice to have people be pissed off for his sake.

“Jesus Christ, Gotham, y’all are so dark.”

“May be why their superhero is Batman, dude.”

“STILL. Could this one have some merit, though, since he was an orphan?”

“This one is one of the strongest theories to date, because Jason was from a place called the Narrows, not far from Crime Alley, and according to Wayne Enterprises official documentation in their family museum, Jason had had issues with drugs and abuse, though to what extent, only the family knows. It’s a pretty ugly idea, but…it’s possible.”

“I think I’d rather be dead, Ryan, than go through that.”

“Same. Same…”

—

“Now. We move onto the disappearance of the second Robin, who vanished the same day that Jason Todd supposedly died. Possible theories of the disappearance of the second boy wonder—”

“Ryan. Ryan. Buddy. Champ. Are you implying, really, that Jason and Robin are the same kid?!”

“I’m just reading the script!”

“You wrote the script!”

“…I may be implying that they’re the same, yes.”

“I KNEW IT.”

“You don’t know shit.” Jason started laughing, and paused to get himself a fresh beer, ordering pizza while he was at it. Alright, this wasn’t so bad after all…

—

“He is hiding. Some say he hid from Batman, and some say Batman is hiding him from others. They don't know what, though. Some even say he quit the job.”

“Alright, I’ll bite, who’s ‘some’.”

“Paparazzi, conspiracy theorists, Alex Jones, etc…”

“Ah yes. The enlightened crowd.”

“Pftt…This is the weakest one, so we’ll go ahead and lay out the second theory while we’re at it. The second Robin died. After Robin stopped appearing with batman for an entire year, the same time Jason Todd died. This used to be a widely spread theory, until people realized maybe talking about the death of a boy in a terrorist attack for a conspiracy theory after his father broke down in public isn't the nicest thing to do.”

“And this is your theory.”

“This…is the strongest one I think, and the one that has the most emotional punch. But let’s be real; if the second Robin was indeed Jason Todd, then his Batman HAS to be Bruce Wayne. And c’mon. We’ve all seen the nightmare surrounding THAT theory.”

“Uh, yeah. No thanks, I do not ever need to write another “But the butts don’t match” article ever again in my life.” Jason snorted at that, cracking up laughing, and when he googled “The Butts don’t match”, he had to pause his boys because the ensuing hyena laugh had him flat on his back for ten minutes, absolutely losing his shit.

“Oh Christ, I love the internet…”

—-

“Next theory. He’s a kid, he took a break from vigilante-ing to do something else.”

“Now see, I like this one; that’s like, the most wholesome version. I hope this is the real one, but…”

“I know, man. I know.”

“Sigh.”

“Sigh.”

—-

“Almost there. Some people believe the second and the third Robin are the same, although many people disagree, considering witness reports that they looked very different, and the Robins were very distinctive in their fighting style and personalities.” Jason snorted at that, shoveling a slice of pizza into his gullet, and even the boys were looking a bit annoyed at that theory, Shane more than Ryan.

“Question.”

“Yes?”

“How the hell do they know about fighting styles?!”

“Gotham City Police.”

“Oh. Well, that makes sense now.”

“Also, apparently Commissioner Gordon likes the third Robin more, which tells me they’re definitely not the same.”

“Yeah, if anyone other than Batman would know, he would. What’s next?”

“This one is kinda great, but also a bit outrageous.”

“Ooooh, juicy. Spill the beans, Bergera!”

—-

“Some even believe that the second Robin is now the infamous Red Hood. Gothamites have been known to try to stalk the dude but it's never successful, and supposedly, even the Batfam won’t bother him.”

“I mean, that’s a cool story, but how true is it?”

“Considering the guy wears a red freakin’ helmet with eyeholes and no mouth, who knows how true it is?”

“Still a nicer story than the butts. And hey, Red Hood is pretty chill, man, I think he’s probably the best thing to hit Gotham in years.”

“You’re a Hoodie!”

“The fuck is a ‘Hoodie?”

“Red Hood groupie.”

“Uh, hell no, I just think he’s cool.”

“Uh huh…Well, folks, that ties up our deep dive into the murder of Jason Todd, and the disappearance of the second Robin. To date, this case remains…Unsolved.” As the quiet music that ushered in the ending screen and credits, Jason sat back, working his second slice of pizza, and chuckled a little to himself. If only they knew…well. His people knew who he was; old man Falcone figured it out the second day Jason had been home. The Narrows had welcomed their boy back…And they weren’t gonna tell anyone. They didn’t trust Gothamites, they didn’t trust the Bats…which was why Jason had carved out his place here again, with gunfire and brutal justice. They trusted him.

He turned YouTube over to something mindless, and padded over to the window, feeling the sunshine, weak though it was, break through the clouds and warm his skin. Jason leaned against the familiar brick, and opened the window, letting in a rush of cool air, reminiscent of spring.

It was good to be home.

[scribble-blog]

Soulmate AU part 13!!

I meant to update yesterday, but between a long school/work day and going out with friends afterwards for karaoke, it didn’t quite happen. Oops! I’m gonna try to get everything edited in advance so updates hopefully get a little smoother for me to roll out. Thanks for reading!

First • Previous • Here • Next

“So, we’re all agreed?” Tim demanded. “I’ll go in with Robin, play a little good cop, bad cop with them. And once we’ve actually figured out how bad the problem is and what we’d actually be able to do to help, Bats can swoop in and offer a hand.”

“I do not see why we had to plan that,” Damian practically yawned. “It’s what we would have all done anyway if left to our personal inclinations.”

“And why aren’t I in the plan?” Dick asked, pouting like the overgrown child Damian knew him to be. “I can play good cop just as easily! Or swoop in after! I can swoop!”

“Swooping is... bad.” Tim muttered to himself. “I left you out of the plan, Dick, because while we play diplomats to a bunch of teenagers who’ve been saving a whole city near daily for four years without help or acknowledgement, crime in Gotham doesn’t actually stop. You and Jason and Cass are on actual patrol.”

Cass wasn’t there, Damian knew. She’d already left after the first time Drake had gone over his “plan” to start on her actual patrol. Todd looked seconds from taking the same exit, except that he’d wanted to be there too.

“Still say I should be the bad cop,” he grumbled, and Damian kicked the foot he had sticking out from his slump on the chair. He got a half hearted retaliatory kick attempt, which was enough to know that Todd wasn’t truly upset at any of them, just upset that he wasn’t getting to meet the new French heroes. “Kid can go hunt down some more scumbags and sleazeballs. Might even catch Riddler or someone at something tonight. I wanna scare the kids.”

“I told you, you’re too much of an asshole to expose to children without warning. Also, they’re still teenagers. It makes sense to send the two youngest of us in to talk to them.”

“And Riddler’s still locked up,” Father said from his spot, far enough away from them that he could maintain the illusion of not dealing with their squabbling but close enough to listen and chime in. “Try again.”

“Hmm. Harley, taking a swing at Scarecrow for shooting Ivy.” Todd cracked an eye in that direction.

“I’d let her,��� Damian groused quietly to himself.

“Speaking of Ivy,” Father’s voice cut through the chatter. “Damian. Mind explaining what you were doing when you got caught up in the attack today?”

Damn.

Damian had honestly let himself hope that the meeting with the new heroes would eclipse what had happened earlier that day.

“I was touring the Gardens,” he said, not dishonestly. “I don’t see why it matters.”

“No, what matters is the fact that you have a girlfriend, and you didn’t tell me,” Dick sighed dramatically. “Where did I go wrong, Bruce?”

“You didn’t actually raise me.” Damian pointed out. “At best, you’ve been a morally guiding nuisance.”

“Jiminy Cricket?” Tim asked, grinning widely.

“Where did you go wrong, Bruce?” Dick corrected, sending a glare towards Tim.

“If you don’t wanna tell us why you were practically hanging off of the poor girl’s every word, you don’t have to,” Todd grinned. “But just remember that what we can imagine is probably far worse than what was actually going on.”

Damian suppressed the urge to groan. He met Drake’s eyes. Surprisingly sympathetic, but then he also hadn’t shared his soulmark with their family to Damian’s knowledge.

“Marinette,” he stressed her name very carefully, with the air of someone who entirely regretted just about everything that had led them to this part of their life, “is my soulmate.”

There was a moment of silence before all hell seemed to break loose.

“A soulmate? And you never told me!?” Dick practically wailed.

“Perhaps I should have pressed the issue more when the marks first appeared.” Bruce murmured.

“There’s no way that sweet girl was your soulmate, Demonspawn.” Todd, crass as ever, objected.

“I think you guys are forgetting that Marinette literally had me on the ground and pinned within the first second of our interaction.” Drake reminded them. “And based on that, I’m guessing she wasn’t lying when she told Gordon she took down two of the goons that came after them.”

“She definitely wasn’t,” Damian found himself saying almost wistfully. He’d found himself at several points that afternoon and evening replaying the memory in his head of Marinette bringing down the idiot who’d tried to bring them to Scarecrow. “Her form needs work, but then not everyone has had the opportunity to train to our standards. I’ll be amending it.”

He found himself met with several frankly insultingly bewildered looks. With a sniff he flattened his expression and did his best to look down on them even from his position as the not quite shortest.

“Oh my god,” Todd said. “She’s actually your soulmate?”

“Cut it out, Jason,” Drake snapped before Damian could. “Or should I say something about your soulmate?”

Damian watched as Todd scoffed but settled down, eyes narrowed at their brother. Dick’s eyes flicked rapidly between Damian and Tim, baffled concern evident. “Did I wake up in an alternate dimension? Like- suddenly Paris has heroes and villains for years that we’ve never heard of, Damian met his soulmate, Tim is defending him, and Damian is letting him?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Damian said, meeting Tim’s eyes and watching them light up as he said, “Tim and I have always been perfectly friendly.”

“Honestly, Dick,” Tim took it one step further, slinging an arm over Damian’s shoulders. “I know you were kind of bitter that he latched on to me when you were supposed to be the Batman to his Robin while Bruce was gone, but there’s no need to act out like this.” Damian, against all of his instincts to shove the intruder into his personal space away, leaned into the side hug, and even wrapped his arm around Tim’s waist to complete the picture of easy familiarity.

“You’re not going to trick me into actually checking if we’re in an alternate dimension,” Dick said, and Damian struggled not to grin as Todd sat up a bit straighter.

“And what, next you’re gonna say today isn’t actually Cass’ birthday? You know Alfred’s got the whole cake and everything waiting for after patrol.”

“It’s not-“ Dick panicked, grabbing his phone, checking his calendar. Tim gripped Damian’s shoulder just a bit tighter as he struggled not to break, and Todd’s eyes were narrow and gleeful.

Dick looked up, accusatory and betrayed. All three of them cracked.

“Oh my god,” Todd laughed, as Tim broke down nearly to tears beside him. Damian couldn’t stop himself from laughing too, at the look on Dick’s face. “‘I’m not gonna check-‘ Dick, it only took one more sentence!”

“It wouldn’t have worked if you’d said anyone but Cass,” Dick whined, throwing his grappling hook at them. Jason caught it easily, tossing it back before Dick could prepare for it, catching him in the stomach.

“If you’re all quite done,” Father stood finally. “Damian, make sure you invite Marinette around to dinner tomorrow. I’m sure we’re all equally anxious to meet her. For now, let’s go, before we miss the meeting time we set up.”

“Yes, Bruce,” came the mumbles from his brothers, as Damian nodded his acquiescence.

For now, they’d deal with the Parisian heroes and their crisis overseas. Once that was settled, hopefully Drake could spend some time looking into the oddities in his soulmate bond.

And dinner be damned, he’d try to keep Marinette from meeting these idiots for as long as he could.

TAGLIST:

@the-fusionist @rebecarojas07 @lowandco @kotaleartzu @resignedcatservant @alenee13 @mystery-5-5 @ladybug-182 @actual-disaster-human @loysydark @rumbelle18 @magic-miraculous @vixen-uchiha @athena452 @mochegato @ash-amg @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @thestressmademedoit @sassakitty @doriebell @toodaloo-kangaroo @myazael @theatreandcomicfreak @mer-mel @dahjokester @northernbluetongue @abrx2002 @area51qt @jessigurl-design @renscorpio @cici-schnee @multplelifes @redscarlet95 @razzledazzle247 @rosep16 @emotionalsupportginger @kceedraws @tired-butterfly @kuroko26 @catthhay @moonystars14 @shamefullove @shreky-boi @imanerddealwith @chaosace @captainmac6 @purple-people-eaters-productions @crazylittlemunchkin @weird-pale-blonde-person @bigpicklebananatree

[sohotthateveryonedied]

And Now I’m Covered in the Colors, Pulled Apart at the Seams

Alternate universe in which we gather soul strings as we fall in love, with different colors representing the different kinds of love you experience over time. Tim has loved and lost so many times over the years that, as rare as it is to find someone who actually loves him back, his strings are mangled like barbed wire. What's the point of loving if it only ends in heartache?

(Or: Tim’s experience with love, a story told in snapshots.)

Based on some awesome fanart by @omgiamwish​!

It starts with two blue strings looped around his index finger. Tim doesn’t remember when he got them or how they came to be, which leads him to assume that they have simply always been there. Always been a part of him.

And that makes sense because most children grow up loving their parents—they’re the first true bonds they ever make. Tim’s mom and dad may not be the most affectionate parents in the world, always going off on business trips and leaving Tim at home with the nanny, but that’s fine. They’re important people. Tim should be grateful to have parents that he can be proud of, even if it leaves him feeling a little detached in their absence. The strings themselves start out strong, thick and bold. But the farther from Tim’s body they reach, the thinner they become. By the time he’s ten years old, they’re practically threadbare as they snake to his parents who are completely indifferent to the way Tim’s heart breaks every time he sees the frayed ends lying at their feet, unnoticed. It is odd that he can’t remember when the strings fell? If Tim didn’t know any better, he’d think they had been that way all his life.

Even when Tim has nothing else, there’s always Dick Grayson. From that fateful day at the circus, Tim has frequently lain awake at night and imagined what it would be like to have an extra blue string, stretching directly toward the last Flying Grayson. Toward the first (and last) person who made Tim feel seen. And maybe that means he’s selfish because Tim already has a family of his own, which is more than so many others can say. Clearly. So what if Tim’s parents don’t love him as much as he loves them? He’s grown used to it by now, so he has no logical reason to complain. It’s just the way things are. Still, when Tim bullies Bruce into making him Robin years later, it injects him with a brand of excitement that he hasn’t felt in years. Finally he has a hold on something bigger than himself, than his empty house, than waiting week after week for his parents to send him a present in the mail the day after his birthday. It gets even better when Dick—the Dick Grayson, Tim’s role model since the day he met him—takes Tim under his wing, and surely this can’t be Tim’s real life. The fact that he not only meets his hero of ten years, but that he gets to learn under him too? It’s a dream come true. Dick teaches Tim the secrets that make a Robin, what it means to be Batman’s partner, the ins and outs of crime-fighting. Tim absorbs it all like a sponge. “And if you stay on your toes like this,” Dick says, demonstrating, “you’ll be lighter on your feet and quicker in a fight. Don’t let the bad guys see you motionless, got it?” Tim nods. “Got it.” Dick raises his practice staff. “And remember—in a real battle you’ll be wearing your domino, so be mindful of your blind spots. Accommodate for them while keeping yourself on target at the same time.” Tim adjusts his stance on the mat. “Uh-huh.” “And don’t be afraid to turn your offense into your defense. Always be prepared to switch it up at a second’s notice in response to your opponent’s moves, so your brain needs to work ten times faster than—” “Will you just hit me already?” Dick laughs. “Fine, fine.” He strikes, coming at Tim with a hit that Tim blocks with his own staff. There’s something about sparring with Dick that gives Tim a sort of insight into the inner workings of Dick Grayson—things that most other people wouldn’t pick up on if they weren’t looking closely. As graceful as Dick is, there’s a strength in him. A secret power that lurks within the acrobat, ready to turn the tides at a moment’s notice. Dick’s plucky, carefree attitude is as much a mask as the domino is, leading enemies into a false sense of security. Dick blocks more often than he strikes and never stays in one spot for longer than a few seconds at a time, as if the floor is lava. It’s a dance. Tim has almost gained the upper hand of their spar—something that happens so rarely he can count his victories on one hand—when Alfred comes downstairs holding a tray of sandwiches and protein shakes. While Tim is distracted, Dick knocks Tim’s staff from his grasp and sends it skidding across the floor. He points the end of his own at Tim’s neck. Checkmate. “Most important rule of Robinism: Never take your eyes off of your opponent.” Tim rolls his eyes, batting aside Dick’s staff and walking over to Alfred. “That’s a made-up word.” “I’m the first Robin and I invented it, which makes it real.” Dick takes a sandwich. “Thanks, Alf.” “As nauseating as I find your mayonnaise and pickle concoctions, let it never be said that I don’t give you boys what you want.” And really, Tim’s got to admire Alfred for that. The guy practically had a stroke when Tim confessed that his favorite after-school snack is potato chips dipped in ketchup. Months later and Tim’s got a new blue string on his finger because it’s impossible not to love Alfred, guilt over ruining his faith in the human palate be damned. At least Dick shares Tim’s love of unconventional food combinations. Tim bites into his own sandwich, the wonderfully sour taste of picklenaise flooding his mouth. “You’re just jealous that you have weak taste buds.” “Yes, that must be it,” Alfred says, wrinkling his nose. As he goes, Tim finds himself wondering about Alfred’s strings. Bruce definitely has one, but what about Thomas and Martha? What about Jason? What about friends from the British military? Is Alfred’s string collection a graveyard of frayed ends? “I was thinking,” Dick says around a mouthful, diverting Tim’s attention, “I’m heading back to Blüd in a little bit but I’m free all next weekend. The fair is supposed to be in town so maybe you and I could check it out? They’ve got a ferris wheel.” Miraculously, Tim doesn’t choke. Dick has never invited Tim to spend time together outside of Robin training. In fact, Dick has always been quick to leave with a thrown-together excuse any time he sees Tim in the Robin uniform—in Jason’s uniform. Tim schools his expression into something remotely casual. He doesn’t think it works. “Really? Just you and me?” “Sure. I’ll talk to Bruce and see if he can let you off training early on Saturday. We can tell him the carnival games are for aiming practice or something.” He winks. “Okay. That would—that would be cool.” Tim tries to hide his smile behind a sip from his shake. He shouldn’t be this excited about the smallest gesture, but he can’t help it. Just the fact that Dick acknowledges Tim and treats him like an actual person puts him on a golden pedestal as it is. Tim tries to ignore the way his string warms on his ring finger, seeking to betray him. Dick’s thread started out green but has slowly shifted to robin’s egg blue over time. Tim is fully aware of how silly it is to care about Dick this deeply like he’s a manic fanboy and Dick is his celebrity crush, but he can’t help it. Dick changed Tim’s life, and for that he will never stop being grateful. In the back of his mind he’s always wondered if Dick felt the same way, but Tim never lets himself check. He’d rather be ignorant than find a tattered string sitting at Dick’s feet, which is almost definitely the case. Dick barely knows Tim. He doesn’t have the attachment that Tim does, and Tim can live with that. He can. Besides, it’s probably better than Dick doesn’t return the feeling anyway. Tim would feel bad knowing that he stole yet another spot away from Jason.

Continue reading on AO3!

[iwritethat]

Batboys: Valentines Day Headcanons

A/N: I couldn’t think of any for Duke or the Batgirls and I don’t know their characters that well so my apologies that I couldn’t give them an individual one.

Happy Valentines Day, I hope you have a wonderful day doing what you do.

All my love, Jessica ♥️

>>>>—————————>

Bruce Wayne:

• Cancels all meetings for the day so he can spend it with you, however Batman is still on call and he does genuinely apologise for this. You don’t mind, you’d expect some mad love scheme from Gothams villains at some point tonight.

• Has probably bought you a few gifts, the classic flowers and chocolates are a must and you can bet they’re top quality.

• Alfred makes breakfast for the two of you as you chatter and enjoy the family’s company in the kitchen.

• Of the assortment of gifts you offhandly mentioned you wanted throughout the year, there is a truly meaningful one that he would give you in private. Whether it be jewellery, a gadget or book which reminded you of a time you spent together. You cry. It’s too sentimental.

• Has plans to take you out for a fancy meal later that evening, we’re talking 5* restaurant and you give him his gift there which of course he loves.

• You take a peaceful walk through the city afterward, which is cut short by the revelation of Joker kidnapping couples. You give each other a knowing look and in minutes the Batmobile is pulled up in the closest alley.

• Bruce - Batman is apologising but you smile and wave him off, but before he leaves you quickly give him a new gadget you got Barbara to work on.

“I have two Valentines I suppose, so my gift to Batman is this.”

“You’re truly amazing (Y/n), I love you.”

“Go save the city love.”

Dick Grayson:

• Not subtle about the fact Valentines Day is around the corner, you know he’s planning something and are on edge.

• Jokes on him though because the competition is ON this year. You woke him with breakfast in bed and he was salty about how his patrol the night before had prevented him from waking up before you. Still assured you that you didn’t have to do this.

• The romantic gestures get more extravagant throughout the day from each of you, in reality you both do this for fun as you show how much you love each other through everyday gestures. But this was go big or go home.

• You arrived from your shopping trip to a trail of rose petals leading to the lounge where too many flower bouquets were waiting - each equipped with a cheesy pick up line. You’d probably give some flowers to the elder residents of the building in the end.

• Dick stood proudly in the middle of them, also nervous as to whether you’d like them. You smiled, pulling him into a loving embrace when he whispered “I’m winning.”

• That evening you took him out see Haly’s circus and he was a mess, it was cute to see him catch up with old family members as well as watch the show. You wanted to give them some privacy but Dick pulled you along introducing you as the love of his life, adamant that you meet Haly. The older man approved, covertly telling dick he’d be an imbecile to let you go.

• In return Dick treated you to a meal at any restaurant of your choice and was glowing for the rest of the evening. Honestly he’s so pleased that your his it’s ridiculous, expect showers of adoration and you just can’t shut him up.

• When you get home and are well relaxed, he presents you with a velvet box.

“This is - no it was too much. I can’t accept this you beautiful dork.”

“I saw the way you looked at it all those months ago so I saved and got you something special, with everything you put up with, you deserve this and much more (Y/n).”

It’s a price of jewellery that you fell in love with whilst shopping for Wallys birthday present and of course your boyfriend remembered.

• You’re cuddling on the couch at this point, pure bliss for the both of you as it’s not often Dick takes a full night off but for you, he would.

“I really tried to get you the best gift in the world this year so I could win our game but I just couldn’t part with it.”

“What do you mean?” He’s confused are your unexpected confession but intrigued.

“How am I supposed to gift you to yourself? Besides I wouldn’t give the best thing in the world up, how could I ever lose you Dick Grayson?” Your words have him blushing, he’s flustered and so full of sheer joy that he just pulls you into his arms with a soft kiss to your lips.

“I - that was - god you win. I don’t deserve you.”

Jason Todd:

• On this day, it is common knowledge to everyone who knows you both that you can ask him anything and he’ll do it. Only If it’s reasonable and for you. Breakfast in bed? Hell yeah. You want a romantic bath? It’s done.

• Will get you a lovely meaningful gift that reminds him of you and you love it so much, and thank him profusely.

“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.” Jason obviously brushes it off with a brilliant blush adorning his skin.

• Never admits to the fact he loves baths with you, but on Valentine’s Day you got out the rose petals, bubble bath and candles. Didn’t take much convincing to get him in there with you and you presented a new book you’d gotten him. Jason melted. If you want him to read aloud in the bath whilst you relax, he will. It’s so peaceful for him.

• Jason isn’t into fancy wine and dining and would rather a casual setting, so brings up going to Big Belly Burger for dinner. As a joke. No he seriously would.

“Oh yeah, sounds great. I’ll get ready.” And you do, willingly.

“Wait but - um, don’t you want? I dunno, a nice restaurant?”

“As long as I get to spend time with you I don’t mind, I would eat on the roof for all I care. Actually no, it’s quite cold - but in summer I would.”

• It’s all registering in Jason’s mind how amazing you are, and he’s just gazing at you with pure adoration before skidding over and clasping you’re wrist as you went for his keys.

“Ah - no, we’re not doing that. I’m making you dinner, no objections. It’ll be incredible I promise.”

“I’ll help then.”

• And boy can he cook, the food is gorgeous and he put so much effort into it too. He appreciates your help as his sous chef, the many kisses in between demonstrated that.

• Essentially from then it stems to a normal evening for the two of you, a comfortable night of playful teasing either reading or watching a show. Jason believes these are the best kind, Valentines isn’t for special treatment when he aims to make you feel loved everyday - even if he’s not the best at it sometimes.

Tim Drake:

• Less invested than his eldest brother who is a hopeless romantic but is still determined to ensure you feel special. You’ve said you didn’t want anything but he refuses to let this be a completely normal day unless you really want it to be.

• Starts by making you breakfast in bed and it’s actually to die for, you share the blissful morning in one another’s comfortable company and it really invigorates you for the upcoming day. He had a gift for that.

• “How about we skip the cliche stuff and do something for us?”

“What did you have in mind my lovely nerd.”

• You played some video games before venturing to Titans tower where you spent the day with your friends - you cared about them too. Honestly it became a low-key house party with everyone conversation going and messing around.

• Afterwards you head back to Gotham and hit a nearby food stand and your boyfriend insists on zipping you through the skyline to perfect place to eat which is exactly what you do.

• Takes you up to the ‘best rooftop’ in Gotham, you didn’t believe one existed until you see the view. Tim offers his scarf as you sit on the ledge watching the sun set behind the city, the sky a breathtaking ombré.

“Y’know, this is very clićhe Tim.” You laughed, nudging your boyfriend who offered you a playful grin in response.

“Well you’re still here so I must be doing something right.”

“You are the something right.”

“I was going to say the same about you, thank you for everything (Y/n). I truly love you, y’know that?”

• After arriving home, you spend the evening cuddled up in bed with Netflix playing and an array of snacks out. You doubt you’ll get through a season by the time you fall asleep but you’re both willing to try.

• You couldn’t determine who went to dreamland first, but you awoke in each other’s arms after a gunshot echoed on screen. At this point you agreed to turn it off and once more curl into one another with occasional random whispers of conversation before falling asleep for the night.

Damian Wayne:

• Does not care for the holiday and has told you this before, whether you do or not he feels he should at least make some form of effort. Just to lowkey display his love for you.

• Brought you multiple bouquets of flowers, also invested in chocolates and you can tell he’s really trying.

• Titus happily brings you a rose, which had you swooning the dog regardless of how smug your boyfriend was. Definitely up for a romantic walk through the park with Titus and buys coffee/lunch whilst you’re there.

• The day is completely at your disposal, but after the walk and shopping trip he took you on (despite your unwillingness to tell him what you liked knowing he’d get it for you), you relaxed in one another’s company in the Manor.

• Damian put on your favourite movie and in return you set his film up next so you both had something of interest. Thus began the playful bickering and fights over blankets which you ultimately end up sharing anyway.

• Alfred brings in cookies, you had to do a double take because they are heart shaped and you give the Butler a curious look.

“At Master Damian’s request, apparently more ‘romantic’.” You can hear the disinterested sarcasm in Alfreds voice, his witty remarks are treasured.

“Alfred!” It’s a hiss from your boyfriend and you can’t help but laugh, thanking both of them.

• You’re both sitting comfortably wrapped up in each other, simply enjoying the movie playing in the background amongst idle conversation.

“I appreciate you’re trying, but this clearly isn’t your thing.” You smiled knowingly, Damian both offended and impressed that you could read him so eloquently.

“I -“

“Hear me out, how about next year we go away for a weekend? Maybe Africa or somewhere with a wildlife sanctuary y’know.”

• Immediately his eyes lit up, he’d moved for his phone and began listing the most exotic locations and soon you were joining him. So much so that within 30 minutes he’d adamantly decided to pay for everything.

• Now has a renewed excitement for Valentines Day, literally is counting down the days for a national holiday he still has no care for but loves spending quality with you. It becomes a tradition to spend Valentines away.

Bonus: Older Batsis

Imagine being the older sister of the Batfam and having to spend Valentines on your own.

• You didn't hate Valentine's Day but this year you were single and had a lot on your mind lately whether it be stress, work or any other life dilemma.

• As a result you opted to stay at the Manor rather than your own apartment, besides both neighbours were madly in love with their current partners and you didn't want to be around that right now. The family knew of these developments and since it was Valentines...

• A bouquet of flowers adorned the table that morning with Alfred cheerfully cooking your favourite breakfast, the smell alone was enough to die for.

"You didn't have to Alfred."

"Ah Miss (Y/n), you should take your own advice.”

• Damian simply tuts at the doorframe before entering the area and sitting beside you. The young man didn't believe in the holiday one bit and at this point you agreed with him.

• Okay so maybe you brought Cass, Barbara and Stephanie a bouquet of flowers each. Then proceeded to purchase the favourite snacks of Dick, Jason, Tim, Duke and Damian. Dick being in an annoying mood decided to question your behaviour.

“You brought us gifts? We’re not your valentine so, why exactly?”

“Because, I believe Valentines is about celebrating the people you care for, not just for couples to express their affection. And I do care about you all a lot, so this is me showing that.”

• Regardless, you enjoyed a chilled day in the Manor. After a luxurious bath, you enjoyed your own company really. Something you hadn’t managed in a while.

• Your family wanted to cheer you up though, thus ensued a strange day. Cassandra brought you a katana wrapped carefully ribbon warapped which left you speechless, Dick and Barbara got you that jacket you were telling her about last month and Tim had set up a slew of your favourite movies to relax to along with snacks.

• You cried. It meant so much despite them having their own plans, they took at least 10 minutes to see you.

• Steph made you waffles for lunch, which you enjoyed together after concocting masterpieces from the array of toppings on offer in the kitchen.

• Duke and Jason were next, each rocking up with bunches of flowers.

“We couldn’t remember your favourites, I thought they were (fave flower), but Duke disagreed.”

“Duh, they’re (second fave flower), anyway (Y/n) happy valentines. You don’t need no man - or woman. Either.” Duke grinned, Jason following on with his usual degrading humour.

“Exactly, you got us. Not that it helps haha.”

• You had dinner in the Batcave, it was only take out considering you were managing comms whilst the others were on mission that night. Oracle 2.0 if you will.

• It was then that Damian joined you, a box in hand that he slid in front of you and upon opening it, revealed a pearl white kitten/puppy adorned with an oversized red bow.

“His name is Valentine, or Val, or Vee - he’s for you, so you won’t be feel alone once you get home. I guarantee animals build more loyal relationships than humans.”

“Dami, I thought you hated Valentines Day. You didn’t have to get me anything.”

• The youngest gives you a frustrated look, embarrassed that he was caught being so kind in the first place.

“If it helps I wanted to adopt him but father wouldn’t let me, so I had to find him the next best person. Which out of all these Neanderthals, is of course, you.”

“I see, and what spurred you to even look into such a thing in there first place?” Damn you’d caught him out, the only reason he went was to find a companion for you.

"As you said (L/n), it's about celebrating people you care about and my gift will last the longest therefore you know I love you the most."

"And I love you too little bro, thank you Damian."

• Best Valentine’s Day ever.

[behindtherobinsmask]

tagged by @runnfromtheak

Rules: list the first lines of your last ten stories. See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. I write the most random things so if you can actually find a pattern then... let me know. Help a fool out. 

P.S. - I know it says opening line and not paragraph but come on, that doesn’t do any story justice.

Gonna do my tags before because this turned out to be longer than expected - @elwon @stevieraebarnes @epistemologys 

1. All The Times Damian Wayne Felt Loved 

This was a birthday fic I wrote for a darling friend of mine. The whole time I was writing this my biggest fear was that the characters were going to... just not be right. Still have that fear.

“Gripping onto a pillow, Damian walked down the dark halls of his grandfather’s house, uncertainty clouding every step that he made. At this hour of the night, no one seemed to be around yet he could feel eyes watching his every move. The eyes of the stars in the sky, the moon and the many trained soldiers that had years of practice when it came to blending into the shadows. It was their presence that forced him to walk with his head held high, to bat away the tears in his eyes and pretend that everything was alright. Pretend that he wasn’t afraid.”

2. To all the stars that are listening

Another birthday fic (maybe that was the pattern all along jk). I actually really enjoyed writing this fic because I felt like I was back in my zone (my zone being angst). Can’t wait to get started on the second part.

“Dick’s life had been anything but ordinary since he was a child. As someone who grew up in the circus, his morning was spent studying with the other kids that travelled with his troupe while in the afternoon, he practiced with his heart and soul to fly as beautifully as his parents. In the nights, he’d stand on the sidelines and watch them perform, absolutely awed by the way their bodies moved, each twist, each turn so seamless, every difficult stunt seemed easy in their skin. Clinging onto the edge of the tent, he wished with all his heart that someday, he could be just like them. A bird freed. With every wish, his voice grew louder and louder until somewhere, up above, a star heard his cry. It heard his desire to be free. The chains that grounded him slowly slipped away and he flew with practiced grace. And just as Dick spread his wings, his parents fell. Birds flightless.

Freedom he had asked for and freedom he had received.”

3. Come here, won’t you hold my hand?

Listen, I spend hours of my life playing genshin impact. Did you really think I wouldn’t write a fic for it? 

“After chasing the traveler away, Xiao sighed, wondering if now was the time to head back to Wangshu Inn. There he could stay away from the harbour and its people, away from the wishes made on stars that could never hear them, away from their fragile happiness that he could shatter with a single touch. Someone like Xiao, so burdened with sins, could never mingle among the mortals without bringing harm. Wherever he went, only misery ever followed. But even though he knew that it would be best for him to leave, a part of him, as silly as it was, worried that the journey back would make him miss out on the opportunity to see an old friend. While he never attended the Lantern Rite in Liyue, he always made sure to catch a glimpse of the Mingxiao lantern that always honored the adepti. It was only at that moment that he could lose himself to the past momentarily and remember a time when he wasn’t so alone, when his battle wasn’t only his to fight.”

4. Jon Kent Must Die

A jaydick flashfic challenge gave birth to this crack series and I will happily go down with this ship. I’ve written too many of these and maybe, in the future I’ll write more. Who will stop me? God? I don’t think so. 

“Damian was sick and tired of his siblings.

Never had he met two people who were so dependent on their partners that they needed them around 24/7. It didn’t matter whether it was day or not, whether they were at the manor or in their respective homes, wherever his brothers went, their fool boyfriends seemed to follow. The obligatory family dinner had been turned into a circus with Todd’s usual clownery that had Damian rolling his eyes so hard that sometimes he was afraid they’d just pop out of his skull. Kent was no better. In fact, on more than one occasion, he had encouraged Todd’s rambling as though he was God’s chosen prophet, sharing his truth with the world. Damian really wished, just for a day, the two of them would simply go away. It wasn’t that he missed his siblings or anything. He just wished to have a conversation with Richard that didn’t end with him wanting to stab someone. Hopefully a 5’11 man with black hair with a streak of white and deep green eyes that could find a conspiracy in Titus’s preferred pose for napping.”

5. I wanna be in your arms by the sea (studying your freckles so curiously)

Yes. It’s another genshin impact fic. Sue me. (Please don’t I’m broke).

“Every night, Zhongli saw the same dream.

Caressed by the gentle winds of the Guili plains, he watched over his people, Guizhong’s people as they lived in prosperity, enjoying the calm and gentle wind that wrapped around them. Serenity was a blessing and they had an abundance of it. In the beginning, when Guizhong had described such a scene, something knit carefully in her imagination, he had not believed her. But now that he was seeing with his own two eyes, he was glad that he had agreed to her terms. Glad that he had formed a contract that had been beneficial for all.”

6. I stay up late and talk to the moon (And I can’t stop telling her all about you)

A christmas exchange fic that I loved writing because it really got me back into the writing for jaydick. It had been a while since I touched anything fandom related. Then this story happened. 

“According to Jason, there weren’t many things that Bruce really got right. Not with his rules that could never be bent for anyone or his sickeningly righteous sense of justice. But if there was one thing Bruce excelled in, it was throwing the world’s most boring party ever. Every event that ever took place in the Wayne manor was the same. Classical music. Champagne flutes. Appetizers that could never replicate Alfred’s cooking and finally, the same old rich folks of Gotham who needed to be filled in on the latest gossip lest they melt into a puddle.”  

7. Now I’m going down on you (proving what I want is true) Who told me I could write smut? Please take away my license. “Click. Click. Click. With a heavy sigh, Dick switched off the TV and tossed the remote aside after an hour of clicking through the channels, unable to find anything that would keep his mind occupied. Two weeks ago, during a drug bust with the rest of the bats, Dick had suffered an injury to his shoulder which he considered rather minor. But Alfred and Barbara said otherwise as he was benched until he healed, his own city taken over by other vigilantes while he was forced to sit at home and entertain himself with murder mysteries with plot twists he saw coming from a mile away. Unfortunately, even when he hit the gym to let go of some restless energy, he could only do the most basic of workouts, the kind that simply weren’t enough for someone who was so used to being active all day long.”

8. Wayne Boys Unsolved

Another crack fic that I really enjoyed writing. Poor Yvonne though. She was really suffering. 

“Yvonne’s body was thrumming with excitement as she peeked out the window of her room, her eyes falling on the black car that just pulled up in front of her house. Four boys stepped out, ones that she was so very familiar with. After all, she had spent many nights watching every single video they uploaded on their blog. They were paranormal investigators of sorts, the kind that didn’t believe in the supernatural and lived to debunk the stories that revolved around each haunted location. Because people loved to watch them so, both alive and dead, the boys had become famous in every circle possible.”

9. You make me wanna die (I’m burning up in the light)

Another birthday fic and the first dark story I ever wrote. Writing this was fun but also nerve-wracking. 

“I think we need a break.

Two years, three months, four days and seven hours. That was how long it had been since Jason had said those words to Dick, sitting in the middle of the bed they shared, silk sheets pooled around his scarred waist, the white of his hair sticking to his forehead with sweat, droplets of it swimming down his throat and across his bare chest that was bruised red with bite marks, across the autopsy scar that he had been reborn with. He looked like a picture, each feature painted so delicately with colours that pulled, that hypnotised and drowned. The fingers of his right hand flexed, parted and then brushed across the back of his neck, tracing the bond mark that tied him down to Dick, shuddering slightly under the imprint, his heady scent spreading across the room like a drug. Strong, so fucking strong that Dick could still taste it on his tongue. Looking like that, after everything they had done, when he opened his mouth, when he said the words that had been sitting on the tipping of his tongue, it was only to end everything that they were.”

10. Come fire up the night (make me feel alive)

Who told me I could write smut (2)

“Staring at the ceiling of his apartment, Dick lay in his bed, tired but unable to fall asleep, the ticking of the clock haunting him. Tick. He took in a deep breath. Tock. He closed his eyes. Tick. He tried to sleep. Tock. Every memory of Jason came rushing back to him. The dark hair with a streak of white that framed his chiselled face. The plump lower lip that he often dreamt about kissing, pulled between his teeth until Jason was groaning. The freckles that were scattered across his nose and cheeks. Those deep green orbs that gleamed with mischief, teasing and taunting, burning with unbridled fury, one look enough to make Dick’s knees tremble. And as goosebumps spread across his arms, he found himself waking up, lest he did something that he knew he would regret. Like calling up Jason and confessing feelings that were better left unspoken, buried in a special graveyard from which there would be no sudden resurrections.”

[maurianasravenholdt]

A Reflection on Birthdays

Birthdays were the hardest.

Almost immediately after Bruce turned eighteen (eighteen years and 6 days) he left. There was little fanfare, a sparsely packed rucksack, and a hasty goodbye. And then Alfred was alone, standing in the gleaming manor kitchen, feeling utterly lost.

Not that he didn’t have purpose without Bruce. He was quite able to find fulfillment by himself, thank you very much. With the Master of the Manor gone, it was the perfect opportunity to leave, to travel, to bask in a Caribbean sun with a beautiful and witty lady friend.

But he couldn't work up the courage to go.

At first, it was reasonable. Master Bruce could return any day, after all. He would be heartbroken to come home to an empty house. But as days stretched on into weeks and months with no word, Alfred slowly tried to accept that Bruce, his son (if he were honest with his heart) was not returning any time soon. May never return.

So he left. Travelled in a daze. Back to London, across Europe. He told himself it was high time he relaxed. A lie, of course. Because everywhere he went he couldn’t stop scanning the crowds for a familiar face. His boy, just barely a man. He never appeared.

Eleven months passed. Then nearly twelve, and Alfred found himself drawn, slowly but surely, back to that grand old house. He told himself it was necessary to check in. Make sure the caretakers he left in his stead had followed instructions. Assure himself that his topiary had not overgrown.

Another lie.

Part of him longed for Bruce to come home for his 19th birthday. A special return. An acknowledgment of the family bond Alfred prayed they still shared. But the day came and went just like any other. Alfred felt foolish for even hoping. He tossed the carefully made cake into the garbage, and sadly put the candles away.

Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, and he fixed his attention on the ceiling, taking a deep breath before putting a kettle onto an empty stove burner and lighting it.

He took his beaker of tea to the sitting room, planning on distracting himself with a good book, when a small piece of paper sticking out of the mail slot caught his eye. Upon closer inspection, he found it to be a postcard - a stunning scene of the Kusatsu hot springs in Japan. The message on the back was messy, and partially obscured by postage, but Alfred could make it out anyway.

“Doing well. Talk soon. Bruce.”

Alfred tucked the postcard into his pocket and smiled.

Read more on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25112140

Birthdays were the hardest.

Richard Grayson was the most luminous spirit Alfred had ever encountered. Even after the murder of the boy’s parents, his brutalization at the hands of the residents at the Youth Detention Center, and the uprooting of his entire life, there was undeniable brightness inside him. An unquenchable fire that only reminded him of Master Bruce as a child because he was the absolute opposite. Any concerns Alfred had about Master Richard donning the Robin mantle vanished when he saw how simply joyful it made his young charge.

One morning, however, a few months after Master Bruce had taken the boy in, that gleaming essence seemed entirely gone. The boy sat, looking empty, staring at his untouched breakfast plate. Alfred took to one knee beside him and met the boy’s terribly lonely gaze.

“Master Richard, are you quite alright?”

At first the young one only shook his head. Then tears tipped over onto his cheeks. He scrunched his face tightly, trying and failing to force them back. Alfred watched and gently cupped the side of the boy’s face.

“Today is…” Dick began, “Today was...”

He took a heaving breath, steadying himself before continuing in a small voice.

“Today was my mom’s birthday. Or is. I’m not…”

He began crying in earnest. Heavy, grief stricken sobs weighed him down, and Alfred cradled him against his shoulder. All Alfred could do was hold him and stroke a calming hand down his back. When Dick’s wails had diminished to quiet sniffles, Alfred steadied him upright, holding his arms firmly, but with care.

“What was her favourite kind of cake,” Alfred asked with a small, careful smile.

“I don’t…” his breath hitched, like he might begin crying again, “I don’t know. We only ever had brownies ‘cause they were easy and I could help.” He wiped at his eyes hard with the heels of his palms, and Alfred produced a linen handkerchief from his pocket.

“Then,” Alfred said as he got to his feet and held out his hand to the boy, “let us make some brownies, shall we? Because someone as special as your mother deserves to be remembered in celebration.”

Tentatively, Dick nodded and smiled, then took Alfred’s hand, and they went to the kitchen together.

----------

Birthdays were the hardest.

If Master Richard was a sun, Master Jason was a supernova. All chaos and blinding fire. And gone in what seemed like an instant. The black hole left in his wake threatened to drag Master Bruce in and crush him. The haunted man that flew back from Ethiopia with a casket was not the same Bruce who left the manor just days before.

Master Jason had been headstrong, brilliant…

But the inescapable truth disembarked at Gotham International Airport.

Jason was dead.

The months that followed were dark. Bruce retreated deeper and deeper into his misery. When Master Richard learned of the tragedy and came to pull his mentor back to the light, it ended badly. Bruce struck him, and forced him from his home, intent on beating his rage-soaked anguish alone.

Alfred’s own grief had been eclipsed. Pushed into the shadows in order to keep Bruce from madness. But as the days slipped by, Alfred found himself staring at the calendar - one of the days had been circled in bright red, with a smiley face hovering over the words, “MY BIRTHDAY!!” His first instinct was to take the calendar down and dispose of it. If Master Bruce saw the barely legible scrawl that was Jason’s handwriting, it would only make matters worse.

He hesitated.

No, he concluded. Jason’s birthday would not be relegated to the dustbin because Master Bruce couldn’t cope with the truth that Master Jason had lived. He was loved, and he deserved to have his special day remembered.

Carefully, Alfred cut the calendar apart, saving the decorated square. He pulled out a photo album - his project to document Master Jason’s life with them so that, perhaps one day, Bruce may be able to look back on that time with fondness, not rage. He tucked the scrap of paper into a photo sleeve and captioned it, “Master Jason, excited for his 16th birthday.”

Then he slowly closed the album and cried.

----------

Birthdays were the hardest

The addition of Timothy Drake to their growing ’family’ was a singularly peculiar one, in large part due to the fact that Master Timothy still had a family of his own. Master Richard had lost his parents, and was subsequently lost, himself, in a savage system, Master Jason was long without a family, and had survived alone in homelessness and poverty. Master Timothy was, however, something of a next door neighbor. Ostensibly untouched by the cruelty that life could bring.

One particularly warm day in July, Alfred found Tim absorbed in his work in the dreadfully damp cave. “I trust you had a rather special day yesterday,” Alfred said as he placed a plate with small sandwiches on it next to the boy.

Without looking away from the computer, Timothy asked, “hm? Why’s that?”

“Birthdays do come but once a year, young master,” Alfred replied with a smile.

Tim rolled his chair back from the desk and looked at Alfred, confused, before recognition read in his features, “Oh. I guess it was my birthday.”

He shrugged, then returned his attention to the readout on the monitor in front of him.

“Your parents didn’t celebrate with you,” Alfred asked, incredulous.

“Nah. They're in Switzerland, I think? Somewhere in Europe for sure. Birthdays just aren't that big of a deal.”

Timothy’s face and posture contradicted his blasè statement. He looked defeated, and his shoulders slumped. Alfred felt something tighten in his chest, an emotion between anger and sadness he couldn’t quite place. The boy’s parents had abandoned him. On his birthday. A milestone Alfred had come to cherish for each of his charges, and one he had learned to never take for granted.

He feigned aloof disinterest and let Tim return to his case without further comment. Once out of sight, he rushed upstairs and set to work.

On any other day, he would have bristled at the mere mention of a boxed mix cake, but time was of the essence. So he pulled out a brightly colored package that touted the “chocolatey-est” formula and whipped it together, then popped it into cupcake molds (they bake and cool faster, after all), slid them into the oven, and waited. He hoped they would be finished in time.

Making the icing was a simple matter, accomplished while the small cakes cooled on a rack. At last, and perhaps a little too soon, he piped the vanilla frosting on top in an intricate swirl, dusted the cupcakes with sprinkles, and headed back down to the cave with candles in hand.

Tim hadn’t moved.

“You’ll find, young master, that birthdays matter a great deal in this household, and will not be forgotten.” Alfred placed a candle in the center of one of the cupcakes and lit it. “Happy Birthday, Master Timothy. You will make a wish.”

Tentatively, Tim blew out the candle and accepted the cupcake, then went back to his work. Alfred sighed and turned to head back up to the manor. He couldn’t force the boy to see the importance of small things like this. He would have to come to it on his own.

“Hey Alfred,” Tim called before he’d gotten too far away.

“Yes, Master Timothy?”

A small sniffle betrayed the boy, and he quietly said, “Thank you. It means a lot.”

With a smile, Alfred replied, “You are quite welcome.”

—————

Birthdays were the hardest

Alfred wasn’t proud to admit it, but he struggled to find fondness for Damian Wayne the same way he had for his other charges. The boy brought with him an unpalatable arrogance and he practically reeked of unrestrained violence. Present in him was none of Bruce’s sense of justice; no light or fire like Dick and Jason had carried. Nor any of the deep curiosity that followed Master Timothy.

In short, the Damian Wayne that had quite suddenly arrived at the manor was cruel.

Alfred barely had any time to adjust before another tragedy befell their family. Master Bruce was gone. And Dick was left wearing shoes he never wanted to fill.

Master Richard tried. He worked diligently, every day, to show Damian that the world was not a bleak landscape to conquer. Did everything in his power to teach him that family did not mean pain and relentless training. Even as the man Alfred was so very proud of struggled with his own twin griefs - the loss of another father and the loss of the autonomy he held so dear - Master Richard showed Damian unconditional love. As time went on, however, Alfred began to fear that Bruce’s youngest son was a lost cause.

But life continues, even in the absence of loved ones. February’s frigid air had set upon the manor, and Alfred made his rounds winterizing the grand old home, drawing the heavy curtains over the leaded windows in lesser used rooms to hold the line against drafts. He was somewhat surprised to find Damian in the library, sitting on the floor in front of the fire with photo albums stacked up around him. For a moment, Alfred feared the boy might burn the precious momentos, but there was something approaching tenderness in the way he flipped through the pages, pausing on each one to survey the pictures.

“I can hear you watching me, Pennyworth,” Damian said without looking up.

“Indeed,” Alfred replied without elaboration. He was in no mood to go rounds with the boy, and even the simplest conversations with him often ended in an argument. So he held his tongue and set to his task.

“Richard suggested I use some of my free time to study the other half of my lineage, and sent me here.” Damian lifted one of the albums, an old one from Bruce’s childhood. “Father was an unattractive baby.”

“All babies are unattractive, Master Damian,” Alfred said tiredly. “It’s part of their charm.”

“I was unaware today was Father’s birthday.”

The statement was quiet. Alfred almost missed it over the crackling of the logs in the fireplace. Damian’s voice lacked all of the pomposity that had become integral to his speech. He sounded every bit the child he was, and warm fondness tugged at Alfred’s heart.

“That it is,” Alfred confirmed as he walked to Damian’s side. With hesitation, he put his hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“Perhaps we should celebrate it. Richard has been overly sentimental lately, and the display may help him regain what little emotional mastery he typically possesses.” The haughtiness was back in Damian’s statement, but Alfred could finally see it for what it was - a crumbling shield disguising a small, frightened boy.

Deciding to play along with the pretense, Alfred sighed. “Yes, Master Richard is often known for deep sentimentality. Though I personally find it to be one of his greatest strengths. Regardless, I agree, a celebration is in order.

With a final, curt nod, Damian gathered the photo albums together and carried them back to their home in an old wooden trunk. Together, he and Alfred walked down the hall - not hand in hand, but at least side by side.

“What was Father’s preferred confection?” Damian asked as they entered the gleaming kitchen.

“I’m not entirely sure,” Alfred lied, “but perhaps you can help me make brownies.”

Damian shrugged, “that would be acceptable.”

And though it was a day saturated in grief, Alfred couldn’t help but feel a genuine smile blossom on his face as he showed his grandson, hand over hand, how to make something sweet together.

Perhaps this was a birthday that wouldn't be quite so hard, after all.

Find it on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25112140