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emilyshotchniss · 3 years

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Starting Fresh

Summary: After your best friend Elle leaves the BAU, you’re devastated - and a replacement agent is just adding salt to the wound. Or is it?

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x Fem! BAU reader

Warnings: a little angst? fluff, non-graphic implied smut, nothing major:)

Word Count: 1677

Oh you have got to be kidding me...

You looked up from your desk to find a slender brunette woman standing in Hotch's office. She was carrying a large box, presumably filled with her things, and that could only mean one thing: she was likely Elle's replacement. You rolled your eyes as JJ called you all into the roundtable room, interrupting Hotch's conversation with said brunette, leaving her standing doe-eyed in the doorway, clutching her box. You followed JJ to meet the others, huffing as you went.

"Her body isn't even cold yet! She's been gone less than a week!" You exclaimed to the others.

"Y/N, calm down. We don't even know who she is," Derek said, trying to reassure you. Hotch entered the room with Gideon, looking both annoyed and confused.

"Who was that in your office?" You asked, trying to act cool.

"Nobody. JJ, lets present," He said, abruptly changing the subject.

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

You made your way across the jet and sat opposite Hotch. He glanced up at you, waiting for you to speak. You squirmed awkwardly, before blurting out your question.

"I just need to know one thing... Is she replacing Elle?" You asked.

"Y/N, not now. I know how close you were with Elle, but this is a private matter." He stated.

"Fine," You sighed, and made your way over to Gideon, at the other end of the jet.

"Hey Gideon, can I ask you something?"

"Fire away kiddo," He replied.

"That woman... You know, the one from Hotch's office this morning? Is she replacing Elle?" You asked, desperate for some more information.

"Look," He began. "I don't know who she is, or why she's here, but she has all the right paperwork saying she's supposed to be here. Hotch is waiting to hear back from Strauss about her." He told you, keeping his voice low so Hotch wouldn't hear. You knew he'd be honest with you, he was almost like a father figure to you, ever since he took you under his wing when you first joined the team. He knew that Elle was your best friend, and how much her leaving affected you - and thought it only fair you knew all the information regarding her vacant position.

"Thank you, Gideon," You said, sincerely.

"Anytime kiddo," He replied, before returning to his book.

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

You returned from St Louis, laughing with the team as you entered the bullpen. You noticed the light in Hotch's office was on, and upon closer investigation you saw the same brunette sitting on Hotch's couch, waiting. You knew then she'd be sticking around.

"Alright guys, I'm heading out," You declared, masking your true emotions, dodging everyones' glances.

You walked swiftly to your car, and got in quickly. Everything then hit you at once - Elle was gone - and she was never coming back. Your best friend, was gone for good. You wiped your tears, and drove home, preparing yourself for the difficult day ahead of you.

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

Walking into the bullpen the next morning, you saw the brunette arranging some of her things opposite your desk - what was Elle's desk, was now her desk. You sighed, rolling your eyes, psyching yourself up, when Garcia body-blocked you.

"Stop." She stated.

"Ugh- Penelope," You said, attempting to get past, and failing miserably.

"Before you go any further, fix your face. I know she's not Elle and I know you miss her, but she's only trying to do her job. She's actually very lovely," She replied, smiling and booping your nose as she moved aside.

"Okay Garcia, I'll give her a shot," I said, walking up to my desk, when I heard my name.

"Y/N? Agent Y/N Y/L/N?" The voice said. "Hi, I'm Agent Emily Prentiss," She said, extending her hand for you to shake. You hadn't noticed over the last few days, but she had gorgeous brown eyes, you could almost get lost in them.

"Y- Yes, hi," You replied, shaking her hand, before sitting down. "You nervous?" I joked.

"Uh- yeah, actually, a little. I hear I have big shoes to fill," She said, with a sympathetic look in her eyes.

"That you do," You replied, trying to be nice, "But don't worry, I have a feeling you'll fit right in," You finished, no longer faking the niceness, finding it easier to speak to her as the conversation went on. But god, those eyes...

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

"The cell members bailed out through a tunnel, the DEA recovered a nextel two-way and managed to intercept a message," JJ began, handing each of us a piece of paper, when she stopped Emily.

"That's not the transcript, it's-" She began, but Emily stopped her.

"No, it's in Arabic," She stated.

"Uh, our friends surprised us and eloped, we can no longer wait for the wedding as planned, we can deliver our gift at the next crescent." She said, oblivious to everyone's stares and gaping jaws. She looked up, as embarrassment flushed over her cheeks. I was in awe.

"I lived in several middle eastern countries growing up," She mumbled. This woman really was full of surprises, wasn't she? You didn't know what you were feeling, but as soon as you met those dark brown eyes you knew there was something different about her. I placed my hand on her thigh, reassuring her. She smiled gently in return, placing her hand delicately on top of yours, squeezing it gently. You were secretly praying that she would be your new field partner, but knowing Hotch and his trust issues, she probably wouldn't even fly with us.

You all returned to your desks, as Hotch and Gideon stood in his office doorway, quite obviously discussing Emily.

"Jason, this is an interrogation, not a training exercise." Hotch said sternly.

"She's the only member fluent in Arabic," Gideon countered.

"There's other translators," Hotch replied. You and Emily both glanced up from your desks.

"They haven't studied behavior," Gideon rebutted again.

"Does she even have her ready bag yet?" Hotch asked. At this, I noticed Emily duck beneath her desk, fumbling about.

"My guess is there isn't much that woman's unprepared for," Gideon said. Just as the words left Gideons' mouth, Emily re-emerged from below her desk, sliding her packed ready bag onto the table, standing awkwardly next to it. You couldn't help but giggle at her, which caught her attention.

"What," She grinned.

"Nothing, it- it's just your cute, that's all," You smiled back, causing her to blush. You had no idea where your boldness was coming from, but you weren't lying - she was cute...

"Prentiss, Y/L/N, you're flying with Gideon to Guantanamo, car leaves in 4 minutes." Hotch stated.

"Yes sir," You both replied, Emily struggling to hide her wide smile. She had the most amazing smile...

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

The team returned back from GTMO, after an exhausting few days. Thankfully, you were able to prevent the terrorist attack that Al Ikhteraa had planned, and everyone was headed to O'Keefe's for drinks. Hotch went straight home to Haley and Jack, and Gideon decided to skip. You were headed to your cars, when Emily stopped you right before you unlocked your door.

"Hey, Y/N wait up," She said, running over to you. You immediately felt your palms begin to sweat and your heart rate increase. You never expected to - but you liked her. A lot.

"Hey, I just wanted to say thank you," She began.

"Thank you? For what?" You said, letting out a confused giggle. She smiled back, sending the butterflies in your stomach crazy..

"Oh, just helping me settle in the last few days,and being the most awesome field partner I could've asked for, having my back and all," She continued. "I know it couldn't have been easy, you know, they told me you were close with Agent Greenaway," She said. Oh my god - you'd gone the whole week without thinking about Elle once. Were you finally moving past her?

"Uh- Uh yeah, yeah, she was my best friend." I replied, looking at the ground.

"I'm sorry, that must've been difficult," She said, grabbing your arm, the physical contact sending chills down your spine. Screw it. You had had a great week despite your first ideas, and you were feeling bold.

"I wanted to hate you so badly," You began, catching her off guard. "I wanted to hate you, because you were replacing Elle, because I knew that you joining the team would make me have to accept that my best friend was gone, and never coming back." She tightened her grip on your arm, softly stroking it with her thumb.

"But as soon as we first spoke, I knew there was something about you that I couldn't quite put my finger on. And as the week went on, I only became more sure." You continued, smiling at her, making her blush.

"Sure of what?" She questioned, nervously giggling.

"Sure that I wanted to do this..." You hummed, before grabbing her waist and pulling her close to you, then gently placing your lips on hers. You panicked when you didn't feel her kiss back initially, but were reassured when you felt her tongue brush over your bottom lip. You started slow, but things progressed fairly quickly and she took control, pushing you flush against your car. She let out a few faint groans of pleasure, before you pulled away for air, grinning from ear to ear, feeling like you were going to burst with happiness.

"You still wanna get drinks?" She whispered.

"I have other plans in mind, if you'd like to join me," You winked, before unlocking your car.

"I'd love to," She replied, jumping in the passenger side. The whole car journey home was filled with stolen glances and wandering hands, and when you finally arrived at your apartment, you could barely contain yourselves. Lips met, clothes were ripped from each other, and you spent the night exploring every inch of each other. You both knew then that this was the beginning of a beautiful adventure...

#emily prentiss x reader #emilyprentiss #emily prentiss fluff #criminal minds #emily prentiss smut #emily prentiss x female reader #bau team #wlw

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jmoriarty-221b · 3 years

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Ok so, I’ve been toying (daydreaming) with the idea of an AU where Tim Drake has an older sibling, whether they’re an older sister or an older brother, from the beginning

But they’re not related 0.o

How? Well, someone must have ensured the survival of a little kid taking pictures up on rooftops right? Tim needed to learn stealth from someone

So you have your average teen Gothamite that one night sees this figure on their roof as they’re walking home and thinking “oh shady shit? On my roof? More likely than you think” before they manage to actually catch a glimpse of a Kid up there and have to fight their self-preservation instinct and their ‘must protect the child’ instinct which ends up with them begrudgingly climbing up to the rooftop and catching Little Tim up there like “what the fuck kid”

And Tim, tiny little baby Tim, giving the most absurd excuse as to what he’s doing on a rooftop, at night, with a camera

Tim, with a straight face and big Bambi eyes: “I’m birdwatching”

Character about to have a baby brother: “Yes, I’m sure there’s many different types of crows and pigeons around here”

Anyway, so they’re soon to be older sibling sits next to Tim and Tim is like ‘wat’ and they just go like “you can hang around the roof but I’m not having you go splat on the sidewalk kid”

So that’s how the first night starts and they spend it working on some projects on a notebook (this is a surprise tool that will help us later) and finishing their homework while Tim gets to photograph some shots of Batman and Robin (“Kid, I know you wanna chase after them but, for your own sake and the sake of my blood pressure, please don’t”) so they come to an agreement where Tim can come and hang out on their roof but they’ll be watching over him while he’s there, and Tim agrees because someone seems to care about him? And wants to spend time with him? Without taking away his pictures??? Yes 🙌🏻

So Tim and his newfound sibling get together every night and Tim learns self defense from them as well as how to hide, how to haggle, how to move without making noise, how to pick a lock, useful things ya know? Obviously they can’t meet every night because sometimes Tim’s parents do come home and sometimes the teen can’t escape their home but they still make it work, and then the moment comes when the teen realizes that they have a little brother now and are like “oh god, I’ve only known Tim for a week but if anything were to happen to him I would kill every Rogue in the city and then go and cuddle him”

And this would start In The Beginning of Tim’s paparazzi/photographer career so the Robin at the time would be Dick Grayson, so there’s a chance that Tim and their older sibling get to meet Baby Jason during one of the nights where Tim is learning from his older sibling, and the teen is like “oh no, they’re multiplying” before simply accepting that Jason is now a part of their weird little family group too, at this point Jason isn’t a street kid yet but Willis is an abusive prick so Jason doesn’t like spending time in his house so the teen-who-has-now-also-adopted-him-as-a-second-little-brother offers him the same deal as Tim’s where they can come and hang out on their rooftop with them at night

So their little family gains another member for around two? years, before Batman takes Jason in and that hurts because they don’t know where Jason is and the teen tried to look for him but couldn’t find anything other than a rumor about a kid taken by the Bat, which is how they figure out Batman’s ID when it’s made public that Jason was adopted by Bruce Wayne and there’s a new Robin going around that’s so clearly Jason and the teen had an anxiety attack because that’s his little brother out there fighting the crazies of Gotham and traipsing through the sky and so far out of their reach and they can’t Protect Him anymore and all of a sudden they can’t B r e a t h e (that night Tim learns how to handle someone having an anxiety attack; hugs were definitely involved)

Anyway, in the end Jason is the one who ends up confirming his Identity as Robin (therefore proving Bruce’s ID as Batman and Dick’s as Nightwing) when he ends up on their rooftop and tries to talk to his older sibling just for then to hug him so hard that it hurts a little but that’s ok because he’s also hugging them back as hard as he can and there’s little arms around his waist and that’s Tiny Tim, his baby brother, and his older sibling and they still love him and they remember and they Know him and oh, those are tears, yep they’re all crying and they just cuddle that night until Jason has to leave at around 2:00am to do a quick patrol before returning to the manor but not before his older sibling established that they Know who they are (“You’re my baby brother, of course I recognized you, you’re still a little shit tho”)

So that’s basically what I have about this new AU, I’m leaning towards giving Tim an older sister but haven’t decided yet, also no death, Jason doesn’t die, no way, I see canon and slap it away

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soulmate-game · 4 years

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Bio Dad Bruce Wayne Month 2020

Day 5: Overprotection

Disclaimer: Dick was adopted when he was 12 in this fic. Just for math’s sake.

—*—*—*—*—*

“What.”

Damian stared at his father, face carefully blank. Bruce grimaced, shifting.

“I said, you have a half sister. Biological.”

Four sets of eyes bored into him, from all of his sons. They were gathered not in the Batcave for once, but just one of the sitting rooms in the Manor.

“... and what, Father, does that have to do with the French class visiting Gotham?” Damian asked again, posture steadily growing stiffer and more and more stone like. He was trying hard to suppress emotions, but not even he was quite sure what those emotions were yet. Anger? Fear? Resentment? Probably. He might have detected some excitement there too, deep, deep down. Bruce took a deep breath, trying to prepare himself for this.

“Well. I’ve kept up with her life, but last time I checked she had no idea that she was adopted. When her birth mother died, it was right around the time I adopted Dick. She was still an infant, and I knew I was not equipped to handle taking care of a baby—“

“Father,” Damian interrupted again. “You sent her off. Have her up for adoption,” he said slowly, as if realizing that that would have been his fate had his father known about his existence earlier, as well. It was almost ironic, considering how Bruce seemed to have a problem with adopting other children nowadays. Bruce nodded.

“She was adopted by a couple in France. Paris, to be exact. I’ve kept up to date, asking them to just send me a letter or email once or twice a year about the general stuff she’s been up to. Nothing too invasive. A few pictures. And last time I asked them, they said that she had no idea about being adopted or that I was her father,” Bruce sighed again, running a hand over his face. “But I think she does.”

“Why?” Jason asked, confused as everyone else to the change in subject. Except Tim and Damian, who seemed to be quickly connecting the dots.

“Oh boy,” Tim breathed. Bruce just nodded.

“Her name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng. She is the one who organized the trip for her class to come here, to Gotham. She is the one who entered and won our international internship competition, and turned that into an excuse to get her entire class to come here for two weeks. To get to know the place she will be living for her internship next year, after she graduates Lycee, France’s version of highschool essentially.”

Tim winced. He had been in charge of the internship competition, and Bruce had given him free reign. He had chosen the winner without even thinking to run it by his adoptive father.

“Bruce—“ Tim tried, but the man just held up a hand.

“I don’t blame you. I haven’t been paying too much attention to her life, and I didn’t expect her to do something like this. But we know now that, if she does know and this isn’t a giant coincidence,”

“Unlikely,” Dick agreed, wincing. “Possible, but unlikely.”

Bruce huffed in agreement. “Then, we know she is very resourceful, determined, and has skills that impressed Tim enough to choose her out of tens of thousands of contest participants worldwide.”

“The minimum requirement for a Wayne,” Damian finally managed to bite out, still coping with this proverbial slap in the face but doing his best to handle it. He was seventeen damn it, and had come a long way from who he used to be. He could handle this. He could. He would.

Bruce rolled his eyes, and then leaned forward with his hands braced on the table. “Okay. So now we need to make plans.”

“Plans?” Jason asked, frowning. “For how you’re gonna tell her without getting your faces plastered over every tabloid in the city right?”

“No,” the older man shook his head. “Plans to keep her alive, unharmed, and unaffiliated with us until she leaves. I will not be making any public appearances unless absolutely necessary, so trips to the Tower are out of the question—“

“Are you…” Jason’s eyes were wide. “Trying to keep her out of our Shitshow? Because yeah, kudos to you even if it took you way too long to learn, but if she went through all this trouble to come here then it's probably too late.”

Dick nodded. “If she’s anything like you and Damian, there’s no way she’ll back off easy. Avoiding her will only make it worse on you, and probably the rest of us too.”

Damian stared straight into his father's eyes, glare sharp and searching. “What is this about, Father? You have not worried this much about any of us—“

“Because none of you were as naive!” He barked, quickly catching himself and taking a breath. “You all had a way you could benefit from this life. A way I could help you. But Marinette has both of the parents she has known her whole life, they treat her wonderfully. They care. She’s never had to worry about constantly moving, or fighting, or going hungry. The only deaths she has ever experienced have been from afar and due to natural causes. She designs as a hobby and has no problem with socializing or handling emotions in a healthy way— introducing her to our life holds no benefit for her. The only thing it can give her is unnecessary danger and risk and secrets.”

“Yeah, well. I guess Batman doesn’t know everything, does he?” A new voice startled them all from the doorway, making everyone's head whip over to see who had managed the near-impossible and snuck up on all of them.

Standing there, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed, was a short part-Asian woman in her late teens. Her midnight black hair was cascading down her back in one thick braid, tied off at the end with an indigo ribbon. Her eyes were a piercing cobalt blue, matching those of Bruce perfectly. Her jaw was clenched, and the infamous Bat-glare coming from her was directed right at the person who made the expression infamous in the first place.

“Marinette,” Bruce breathed, shoulders squaring. “Your plane isn’t supposed to arrive until tomorrow.”

“It won’t,” she agreed. “I took a portal here. You see, my extensive research into Batman’s known habits and tactics, which I started after I figured out about your alter ego last year, informed me that you tend to go to the extremes to protect people you deem incapable of protecting themselves, and are also prone to idiotic self-sacrificing behavior in the form of purposely making yourself look like an ass.”

Jason chuckled. “She’s got you down to a T, B,” he quipped with a grin despite the caution still in his eyes. “But let’s back up a bit, little Spitfire. What’s this about a portal?”

Marinette pushed off the doorframe, walking closer to the scattered group. Tim and Jason were spread across one sofa, Damian on the other with Dick, and Bruce was occupying an armchair. Marinette just walked until she stood where she could easily be seen by everyone, but also had nobody at her back.

“The portal is part of a bigger story. Like, the fact that father dearest wanted to protect me so badly that he placed the JLE in Paris, but didn’t realize that relations with that branch were so bad that the JLE never informed him or the JLA about getting kicked out of France and reassigning themselves to Italy. Bruce never kept a close enough eye on the city, because he wanted to keep emotional distance, and therefore was completely blind to when a supervillain showed up and terrorized Paris for almost five years,” she continued, her glare never leaving Bruce’s face.

“I found out about being adopted when I was eight. I found out who my biological father was when I was thirteen. Last year, I finally put in the work to connect Bruce Wayne to Batman. And yeah, I never told Maman and Papan, because they have never completely understood me. They wouldn’t have understood that I was fine with having no contact with you, back then. That my snooping had nothing to do with being unhappy with them as my parents. They would have immediately assumed they were inadequate when I am merely curious by nature. But then I ended up being chosen to be one of the child heroes that fought said domestic terrorist that showed up five years ago. And I sure as hell couldn't tell them that a magical artifact showed up on my desk one day and that the god inhabiting it told me to fight the monsters the villain made and just, just go with it. I couldn’t tell them when I went from being one of two Parisian heroes to being the leader of a team. I couldn’t tell them when my elderly mentor, unable to fight by our side but who had at least provided emotional support and knowledge, passed away and gave me his title and responsibilities. I’m sick and tired of being protected, Monsieur Wayne,” Marinette didn’t seem to notice the tears that had begun to fall.

“I’m sick of it. I know you were trying to keep me safe, but I fought a war I wasn’t prepared for. I died, thousands of times. But my own powers and the powers I have my partners brought me back to life. Over and over. I don’t need protection, damn it. I don’t need you to distance yourself, because you're the only fucking person I can call a parent who might understand,” she held out a hand, her scowl turning into a gentle smile. “I have so much I need to talk about. Before I drown under all these secrets. Please. I’ll go back through another portal before my parents notice I’m gone, but I’ll be back in town tomorrow when my plane lands. Just. Please, don’t push me away. That’s all I ask. I want to get to know you, all of you. I… I need family who understands.”

“Thousands.” Bruce repeated, all of them still recovering from Marinette’s very sudden, info-dumping speech. “You died… thousands of times?”

Marinette laughed, but it was a sad sound. No mirth there. “I gave my friend a magical artifact that reverses time, and the artifact that gives me my own powers can reverse any damage from a fight I use it in. Even death. Sending untrained teenagers to fight a villain three times their age makes some kind of failsafe like that kind of necessary.”

“Fuck,” Jason cursed under his breath. “Well. You’re welcome to join the living Zombie club,” he offered. The girl snorted, giving him a watery grin in thanks.

“I’m sure you know about my stance on powers and metas,” Bruce decided to say, wincing immediately after. That wasn’t what he meant to say. At all. He earned another brief glare for it.

“I’m not a meta, and I only have powers when I use the artifact to transform, thereby borrowing powers from the miniature god that the artifact houses. Think of it like doctor fate, but my gods are actually not parasites and my powers are much more… specialized. I had to learn combat on my own, and I was able to train in my sleep with the past users of this artifact. That includes people like Fa Mulan, Joan of Arc, and someone you actually know— Hippolyta. I’ve mastered more fighting styles by now than I care to remember, and I’ve done gymnastics since I was three. I don’t know if my parents told you that in their letters. I even won the gold in the nationwide France gymnastics competition two years ago. I assure you, I don’t rely on my powers nearly as much as you might think.”

Bruce swallowed. “I can… greet you when your class arrives.”

Marinette grinned. “Well, that’s a start.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Idk what happened, I don’t know if I like this at all but oh well. I’m posting it anyway. Maybe one of you will like it. I… couldn’t really find any other way to do this so oh well. Also, I think Mulan was a past Dragon..? But I put her as a Ladybug because I Can.

@momothefemur @ladybug-182 @starlightshield @trippingovermyfeet @greatcatblaze @sam-i-am-0222 @bluesimani @ruelukas22 @acoolspacegirl @iamablinkmarvelarmy @meme991001

#maribat #ml x dc #mlb x dc #b!dbwm2020 #bio dad bruce wayne #platonic daminette #platonic brucinette #day 5 #not my fave at all

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mxsmwndr · 3 years

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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??]

#jason todd fanfiction #jason todd headcanon #jason todd x you #jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason peter todd #jason todd #titans jason todd x reader #red hood jason todd #red hood fanfic #red hood fanfiction #red hood x you #red hood x reader #red hood x y/n #red hood imagine #red hood #jason todd x single mom #single mom reader

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riseofnightwing · 4 years

Text

Once Upon a Dream - Dick Grayson Imagine (You'll love me at once, The way you did once upon a dream)

pairing: Dick Grayson x Titan! (Preg!Wifey!Reader)

request¹: When Trigon is controlling Dick, he sees Y / n as his wife instead of Dawn. So he tells Y / n what he saw.

request²: Can you write something about Dick and y/n being pregnant and he is protective over her and the baby? Thanks

notes: I joined these two lovely requests together because I thought they fit pretty well I’m so sorry the delay, I’m back at college and doing both is pretty hard but i did my very best. hope you enjoy it xxxx<3 y/e/c: your eye color

y/n/n: your nickname

“Good dreams, big boy.” I said as I put my son to sleep after telling him all the stories he asked me to. John wasn’t a hard-to-deal kid, he reminded me a lot of myself when I was younger, not the bad things, of course, only the good ones, although I wished he could inherit more of Y/n. Looking back at my past doesn’t make me that proud of who I was, but if I admire someone, it surely is my wife.

Heading to our bedroom, I entered, immediately locking my eyes for more than a second with a pair of large, Y/E/C eyes set in a pretty face. Y/N was laying down in our bed, reading her book. It didn’t matter how many times I looked at her, she would always look as beautiful as ever.

“Hey, Boy Wonder.” She greeted me with her specific -and so beloved by me- soft tone of voice.

“Hello, y/n/n” I took my shoes off, sitting in the bed, close to her. Her smell entered my nostrils as I placed a warm kiss on her neck. “How’s our baby and my wife doing?” I caressed her belly, trying to check on our kid as much as I could. Having John four years ago made me way more responsible and careful than I would imagine that I could be someday. Since it, my family had been all I cared for, the hero life didn’t need me as much as they did, or as much as I needed them too.

“We’re doing fine, he didn’t kick me like yesterday so yes..we’re good for today” she told me with a smile on her face. “But my feet, god, they’re killing me”

“Well, I think I can help you on this” I told her with a half smile

“Yeah? Show me how then.” she said and i moved to the end of the bed, sitting with her feet in my laps while i started to massage it.

She left her book on her side, positioning comfortably through the pillows

“I already told you this but..you’re the best husband in the whole world” she said

“I know that, thank you” i said, mocking her

“You’re so sassy, Grayson” we laughed together. I kept doing the massage for ten minutes when, in a matter of a second, we were interrupted by my phone ringing, showing Jason Todd on it’s screen. He was calling for a video call.

I didn’t talk to Jason for ages, what would he want now?

I looked at Y/n and she nodded at me, pointing that I should answer and I did. She got back to read her book while I answered his call, but I knew my wife pretty well to know she was still listening.

“Hey, Jay. Long time no see” I said when his face showed up on the screen. He was different, surely not the same Jason I knew 5 years ago.

“Hey, man, not as good as you, I think.” He answered, showing his legs. He was sitting in a wheelchair, I got perplexed. What the hell did happen to him?

“Jason” I had my hands covering my mouth after passing them through my hair. “What happened?”

“I was stupid. Totally my fault. Riddler and some guys were hitting jewelry stores late at night.” he spoke and I paid attention to every single word “Batman and I staked one out, caught them coming in. Should’ve gone down real simple, but I got too cocky. Big Surprise.” He had his head down, recognizing his mistakes.

“Went straight for him, Though I could take him down on my own. You know the Riddler never uses a gun?”

I nodded at him, it was true, he never did.

“Well, now he does. Bullet hit on my t5 vertebra. I still have it here.”

“Jesus.. I’m so sorry for that.”

“Gotham’s gotten worse, man” He looked at me “Way fucking worse. Commissioner Gordon’s dead.”

“What?” I was completely astonished by what I heard. How the fuck did Bruce let it happen?

“Three days ago. It was the joker, and it was bad. When Bruce finally found where he was. It was too late already.” he said “He’s going to kill the joker”

I felt Y/n’s intrigued eyes on me at this point. She knew Bruce almost too much like I did.

“He would never do that. Bruce has a line he’ll never cross”

“Things have changed, Dick. Alfred Died, I got shot, Commissioner Gordon Died.” Too much information to my own good, I wish I could still be in peace with Yn in bed like I was some minutes ago.

“Why are you telling me all of that now?” I sighed.

“Because you’re the real Robin, man. Not me. He was never the same after you left. Alfred said it. Superman said it. You were the only one he ever listened to. Maybe the only one he cared about after his parents died.” I didn’t answer him this time, it was too much.

“You need to come back to Gotham and convince him not to do it.”

What? Come back to Gotham?

“I can’t. I swore I’d never go back.I haven’t spoke to Bruce in years”

“The whole thing with Tony Zucco. You know what he’s going through. If he does it, there’s no coming back.” I looked back at him “He’s the only hero that Gotham has left.” he sighed “You’re the only one that could save him”

He said and hung up, leaving me with innumerable thoughts, innumerable questions.

I threw my phone at the sofa in front of the bed, getting up and running my hands through my hair.

I felt a pair of arms hugging me from behind

“Dick.” I heard her voice “I’m here.”

“If bruce wants to do something, he’s gonna do it. We both know that.” I said turning around to look at her. “He dresses up like a bat to fight crime. That works for him.” I spoke trying to show her my point of view, it was insane what Jason just told me.

“But this idea that I’m the only one that could save him? It’s bullshit.” I complemented, walking side to side in the room while she was looking calmly at me.

“Then, who?” she just asked

“What?”

“Jim Gordon is dead. Alfred is dead. Barbara’s missing. He fell out with Superman years ago. He’s alone.” She told me, eye to eye.

“He’s always alone, Y/n.”

“Not when you’re around, Dick. How’re you going to feel if you don’t at least try?”

“Bruce Wayne is not my responsibility.” I raised my tone of voice, being hard at what I said. Damn. I knew I had fucked up the minute I said it, so I walked to her.

“I’m sorry.” I hugged her from behind just like she did some minutes ago. “After our baby, if he still hasn’t got shit together, I’ll go. I can’t leave the three of you alone here.”

“Okay.” She said “Oh my god, Dick, he just kicked, he knows we’re talking about’im”

I smiled and moved my hands to her belly in an attempt to feel our son’s kick’s. It was crazy how much my family meant to me, remembering that I always loved Y/n and now, having a life built with her and calling her “wife” is the most peaceful feeling i’ve ever felt.

Our moment was interrupted by a little figure entering our bedroom. It was John with his sleepy face and his teddybear, “Growley” -which one Gar gave to him on his birthday- and we turned our attention to him.

“Hey buddy, couldn’t sleep?” I asked

“Growley wants to go with you.” he told me

“Go where, sweetie?” Y/n asked our older son.

“To Gotham City” He said and I laughed. Did he hear it all?

“Wow. Eavesdropping.” Y/n told me.

“But Growley is your favourite.”

“He’ll protect you.” John said and left, heading to his room, sleeping again.

“Look honey.” Y/n turned to me, putting a hand on my face and I leaned at her touch, closing my eyes, she always had the power to put my shit together when I couldn’t.

“I know that your relationship with Bruce is more than complicated, and that the last time you saw each other you said some things..But he saved you, Dick.”

“What if you’re the only one who can save him back?” I scoff.

“Baby, that’s absurd.” I told her

“But what if?” She asked me.

The next morning I was ready to take a plane to GC. I called Donna to keep here with Y/n until I got back. The bell rang and she was here. Me and Y/n went to receive our old friend.

“Hey Donn” Y/n greeted her.

“I missed you, sister.” The black haired girl answered my wife.

“Hey crazy chick. It’s good to see you. Thank you for coming.” I told her when she came to hug me.

“No problem, don’t worry, I’ll be taking a real good care of these three”

“I don’t doubt it”

We talked to each other and I was ready to leave.

“I’ll be back in a matter of a second, baby, I promise. I’ll have my phone close every time, call me if you need and i’ll be right back.”

“Dick, I’m the one who should be pretty worried by now, and believe me, I am, so please, take care in every moment of this, right?”

"Come on, it’s me. I’m good at this sort of stuff, remember?" I told her with a cocky smile.

We kissed deeply. I gave John a kiss on his head.

“Take care of your mother and your auntie, alright? That’s your mission.”

“Alright, Dad.” he smiled sweetly at me.

“Donn, call me if she feels anything different from normal, any sight of danger and I'll drop everything on Gotham and I'll be back, deal?” Donna nodded at me.

“You’re everything I have. I love you” I said in my wife’s ear, leaving a kiss on her forehead, and leaving.

Gotham was crazy, not the city I knew, the city I left back, this is the closest to hell i’ve ever got to.

I wanted to go back to my family, my pregnant wife, my 4 year old son, my house. But I couldn’t forget that once, Gotham was my home too.

The joker is almost dead. Bruce threw him up from a building and now the police escorted him to a hospital.

I followed to the place that, for a long time, sheltered me. Wayne manor, I needed to talk to Bruce. And I Tried, I told him the joker isn't dead yet and he had a chance to sneak out from darkness. But he didn’t appear so I left.

Although my conscience led me to think I should go back to the better life I chose when I burned my suit, that I should just forget about being Batman’s savior and go back to Y/n, everything kept me stuck on the city. Things happened faster than I could control.

Bruce killed the joker at the hospital. He ran before I could get him, he injured policemen. He didn’t stop at it, he Killed prisoners, nurses, guards. It wasn’t justice, it was a massacre. He couldn’t be saved. He needed to be stopped. I made his name public.

I drove an operation to get him and he killed all my team.

He wanted me to give in to the darkness. To become him.

Well, fuck you, Bruce, you win.

I killed Batman.

“Dick.” Hands on my face and a voice calling my name, it was all I could understand now.

“Dick, It was all planned by trigon” Rachel was at the batcave, where i killed batman. What was she saying? “Dick, you would never kill batman.”

“Shut the fuck up” I told her, I had to kill him.

“You’re the boy from the circus, Dick. We’re supposed to save each other.” She said and we were in my parent’s circus. The flying Graysons, my good memories showed up and I woke up.

“I missed you.”

“Rach” I chuckle.

“Welcome back.” She told me and left to find trigon.

Y/n. Her face filled my mind. Wasn’t it all real? Everything we lived, our home, our son, she was my wife for I don’t know how long and it was all trigon controlling my mind, but still, it felt so real. So good.

I had to find her.

“What’s going on?” Gar appeared with his face pretty much hurted.

“Hey, Gar, I swear I’ll tell you everything later but, where’s Y/n?”

“She’s black eyed, Dick. Outside, Don’t think you should..”

“I will get her back.”

When I came outside, all the titans were looking at Trigon and Raven, and I knew her enough to know that she’d deal pretty well with him. I looked at Y/n and she wasn’t awake, so I pulled her by her arm.

I turned her to look at me and she did.

“Y/n, it’s me, Dick. Wake up.”

“That’s me. The real me.” She had Trigon on her mind still and I needed her back.

“It’s not, I know you, Y/n. I saw you, in my vision, I had you with me so please, come back.”

Our eyes were locked, she seemed to hear what I had said and with no reluctance, she was back, her eyes weren't blacked anymore and she woke up.

“Dick.” she seemed confused. We all were.

“You’re back.”

I hugged her and she hugged me back, words were never spoken between me and Y/n, although I bet everyone knew about our feelings about each other, I never faced it, until now. I broke the embrace to look at her-

“I had you, Y/n, in my mind, during all the time you were with me and when I faced reality, it was sad that it was only a dream. It made me realize that’s enough of hiding, I need you to keep with me, because I don’t know what I’d do if you didn’t and because.. I love you.”

She looked at me as if she couldn’t believe it.

“I’m being completely honest in every word I said.”

“I’m here, Dick. Kiss me.” She said, surprising me, and I did.

“I’ve waited for this for so long.” She said when we parted our kiss.

#sleeping beauty's song #i LOVED WRITING THIS #dick grayson #dick grayson batman #dick grayson comics #dick grayson titans #dick grayson imagines #robin imagines #nightwing imagines #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson one shot #dick grayson quotes #batfamily imagines #titans imagines #rachel roth #trigon #dick grayson x y/n #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x you

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finiteuniverse13 · 3 years

Text

home is people, not a place 1/?

A/N: This has been published on AO3, but I was inspired to put these on here!

Summary: Clay gets attacked on base. DEVGRU finds an issue in that.

TW: Blood mention, physical assault, canon typical violence

Tag: @rebelwrites @chibsytelford @bravo-four-seal-team @velvetcardiganbucky @supervalcsi @abby-splace @itsonautopilot @thegirlwhoisalwayswriting @pinkrockstar19 @softi92 @mrsmarvelous1995 @jayhalsteadfan-2417

Clay Spencer is rarely off his guard. It’s a hazard to himself and the people around him if he’s not alert. But being on guard all the time is exhausting. That’s why he had his eyes closed in the cage room, cage door ajar and his head leant against his locker. He’d just got back from being spun out with Bravo, a weeklong mission that had meant he’d had to stay awake in 20-hour stints, constantly watching a target house for a man who’d only arrived on the sixth day they’d been there. He’d been in the cage room for around an hour, about 15 minutes after Trent had finished sorting his supplies and gone home, a grumbled order to follow in his footsteps as Trent leaves, looking as bad as Clay did. There was a good chance that Bravo team would sleep for about 25 straight hours.

That’s why – he’d reason to himself in the following months – he hadn’t looked up when the door opened. Why he hadn’t greeted them, because it could be Bravo, Blackburn, Davis, their support team, all have access to the room. His cage is unlocked (why would it be locked? He's on base, home turf, in a restricted access building), so they get the drop on him. The four of them, green team rookies who probably haven’t even met a Tier One operator before, walk in quietly. Clay doesn’t look up, doesn’t question them. He doesn’t see their faces, their names, or the bat that one of them holds. He has his back turned to them, slowly squaring away his bag with the air of someone who needed downtime. He doesn’t see the bat coming, doesn’t have the time to shout out in pain before he’s on the floor.

They drag him into the threshold of his cage, and one of them puts a foot on his chest – right above his pounding heart, ready to burst out of his chest from the adrenaline beginning to pour into him – and two more pairs of hands come down to restrain his arms. His legs kick out uselessly, between the foot pressing down – ow ow ow ow – on his chest and the hands digging into the flesh of his arm, he can’t fight them off. He can only watch through blurry vision, struggling and restrained, as the wooden bat descends onto his chest, right on one of his ribs. The pained groan that echoes out makes one of them laugh and Clay knows that the laugh is going to haunt his dreams.

Clay’s eyesight blacks out and his consciousness leaves him, taking him to a place where he can’t feel his nose break, or the bruises forming on his exhausted body.

Eric Blackburn knows he is only slightly better off than his team, not that he knows the state of his rookie – of course. Blackburn leaves his debrief, having reported Bravo’s AARs and answered questions until he was dismissed. He can practically feel his bed – and his wife – calling him home. As he leaves the office, he decides to check the cage room. Bravo had looked, for lack of a better word, dead on their feet; and he wouldn’t put it past any of his idiots operators to either curl into a ball on the cage floor or hang a hammock so they could sleep at the base. They were going to give him grey hairs, the lot of them.

He pushes the wooden door open and walks in, blearily looking through the darkness over to the cages, trying to see if there are any hammocks hanging. When he sees none, he rubs at his sore eyes and lets his tired gaze fall to the floor. His eye catches on a shiny patch on the floor, and he fumbles for the light switch on the wall for a few seconds before he manages to find it, figuring that he’d at most need to call for someone to clear whatever Clay had spilt in front of his-

Oh god. Oh god. No no no no no no. Bravo Six lies on the floor of his cage. His head and shoulders both lie past the threshold. His head lies in a puddle of blood, with his face turned away from Eric.

It’s 2am, and god knows when this happened. Any way that Eric mentally spins this, there’s no good outcome. Something happened to Clay while the team wasn’t there. Eric runs the mere feet to where Clay is facing, and what greets him is, put simply, pain. Blood dribbles out of a very broken nose, and a forming bruise spans most of Clay’s jaw, and that’s just what Eric can see. He’s certain that there’s more beneath Clay’s shirt. He falls to his knees in front of Clay’s slack face, his knees breaking the surface tension of the puddle of blood, and he doesn’t pay it any mind, even as it stains his trousers. His hands find their way to Clay’s face, and a tiny bit of tension leeches from his body when he finds the skin warm.

“Clay? Clay! Bravo Six!” His voice increases steadily in volume, as Clay doesn’t show any sign of responding or so much as registering that his commanding officer is trying to wake up please god Clay wake up get his attention. Eric pulls out his phone, thanking something above that he’d remembered to pick it up as he left Bravo’s briefing room. He dials 911 and he ignores the blood staining his fingertips, and his screen, and his trousers, and his skin, and the floor and and and, giving the operator who answers him all the information that he can think of – rattling off his service number and Clay’s, telling the man that he was on a military base, that they needed an ambulance, that Clay had a concussion, that he had already bled a lot. The operator told him that the ambulance would arrive in about 10 minutes. Eric hung up the phone without thinking too much about it.

Alpha Five, a middle eastern man named Jordan Frazier, walks past the open door, and double-takes in a way that Eric would have found comical if not for the fact that he’s kneeling in a puddle of his rookie’s blood. Eric’s eyes bore into Frazier and he barks out an order – praying that Alpha’s operators responded better to the chain of command then his own team did.

“Go to the entrance and direct the ambulance.”. Frazier gets halfway through a salute before processing that there were more important matters at hand then paying due respect to Eric. Eric’s gaze looks back down to Clay, to his unmoving, unflinching face. Eric’s hand moves down to Clay’s jugular, feeling Clay’s heartbeat. Even though it is weaker than Eric would like, Eric hangs to the feeling, to the knowledge that his annoying as hell brother, son, nephew mix that he wouldn't replace if you held a gun to his head operator is still alive.

“Bravo Six! Blondie! Sunshine!” He tries the nicknames that he’s overheard Bravo calling him, praying that something will get Clay to wake up.

Time passes in a paradox, both slow and fast, as Eric continues trying to rouse Clay. He looks up when he hears a noise in the doorframe, and tension bleeds from his body when a paramedic bursts through the door, a gurney trailing him. Frazier helps the other paramedic get the gurney through the door, and he’s followed in by Alpha Two.

The paramedics assess that Clay is okay for transport and that their biggest concern is his headwound. Eric is instructed to hold gauze against the back of Clay’s head, where the bleeding is concentrated and he doesn’t think about how the blood, Clay’s blood, there’s so much blood, on his hands stains the outside of the gauze. When the paramedics get him atop a backboard, it’s all Eric can do to keep the pressure on the wound as Derek, Jordan and the two paramedics all lift the board onto the gurney.

Derek and Jordan step away, letting the trio start making their way towards the base’s entrance where the ambulance is parked. A silent communication passes between them, and they storm out in sync, looking for the rest of Alpha. Someone did this to Bravo’s rookie. Clay may be Bravo’s rookie, but he was Tier One’s kid. They've all seen him work, all given him pointers, all taken and given advice. They've seen Bravo take the kid - and he is a kid, the youngest Tier One operator in history - under their wing, and that means that Tier One took him under his wing. Thanks to Clay’s knowledge of languages, there wasn’t a Tier One team who hadn’t utilised the kid’s skills. Some punks on base had hurt their kid. A fellow sailor had hurt their kid.

As they’ve gathered Alpha, they run across Delta, who have finished a couple of late-night rounds in the shootout house. Delta One, a formidable man named Tyler Jaramillo, or TJ, takes one look at the stormy faces of Alpha and draws some speedy assumptions.

“Clay?” Behind TJ, Delta perks up, looking away from where they’re ribbing each other.

“Somebody attacked him in the Bravo cages.” Full Metal isn’t one to beat around the bush, especially when their kid is involved. Delta matches Alpha, anger burning and knuckles whitening. The cages are sacred, a place where sailors can decompress in a place that is solely their own. And someone had gone into that room, had attacked one of their own, had hurt him so bad that his commanding officer had needed to call him an ambulance.

“We need to find who did it.” This is a given, but it gives the teams something to focus on. Alpha and Delta both splinter off in their operating pairs, with the intention of finding somebody who had blood on their uniform.

Alpha and Delta’s 2ICs pair up to make their way over to the security room where the cameras are. While the room is unmanned – it’s a base full of sailors trained by millions of taxpayer dollars, why do they need an on-duty security guard – they know how to access the footage. TJ and Metal stay behind to inform Bravo of the situation, on the off chance that Blackburn hadn’t called Jason yet.

Metal makes the call to Jason, and Jason picks up the phone with a tone of irritation, and Metal can hear Jason picking up his car keys before Metal even gets the chance to start speaking. Jason cuts of whatever Metal was about to say – “I know about Clay, I’m going to the hospital right now, and I’m about to call the rest of Bravo.” The dial tone rings out before Metal can get a word in edgeways, not that he needed to anyway.

TJ pulls his phone out of his back pocket, shooting a text to the group chat that has the Tier One Master Chiefs and 2ICs in it. Spenser was attacked in the Bravo cages. Delta and Alpha on base. Finding who did it.

Metal’s phone buzzes from where he’s putting it in his pocket, but since he watched TJ send the message, he doesn’t bother checking it. They make their way over to their 2ICs in the hope that they’ve found who hurt their rookie.

Sped-up footage of the hallway shows four Green Team trainees entering the room, leaving 10 minutes later, and then Blackburn checking in about 5 minutes after they’d left. The footage is stopped as Jordan entered the frame, a still of his confused face. Derek rewinds it back to the trainees entering the room and manages to get three non-blurred pictures of the trainees, the other one is looking down at the bat he is holding, meaning that they can’t get a good angle of it. TJ and Metal take pictures of the three they manage to get, sending it to their respective groups in the hopes that the images will help to flush out the fourth.

#seal team #eric blackburn #clay spenser #brock reynolds #trent sawyer #ray perry #jason hayes #sonny quinn #seal team fanfic #seal team cbs #ocs #fanfic #angst #brothers #they're family your honor #scott carter #full metal

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her-world-on-fire · 3 years

Text

Atlas {Jason Todd x Reader}

MASTERLIST

REQUEST HERE

Word Count: 3,720

Prompts: ii. and vii. ❝i am calm. i am nothing but calm all the time.❞ ❝no, you're not. you're fifteen seconds from starting a fight at all times.❞ & ❝i'm surprised you haven't killed him yet.❞ ❝i keep trying but nobody ever let me get that far.❞

"JASON CALM DOWN!" I pressed my hand against his chest, looking into his eyes fiercely, we didn't the time for his temper. He broke away and walked away but not before he shot the guy in the leg. "We weren't here, or the next one goes in your brain." He said slowly and then turned back to me. His piercing blue eyes felt almost cold, I blinked in shock. I've seen him angry more times than I can count but this was unsettling."I am calm. I am nothing but calm all the time." He said through clenched teeth, making me scoff as we jumped off of the roof. We broke out into a sprint, by now I regained my composure. "No, you're not. you're fifteen seconds from starting a fight at all times." Jason was a hothead, he was so angry at the world. He tried his hardest to make sure it was safe at night but he felt like he didn't make a difference so he was pissed off. He was pissed off that so many bad people got to live and kill good innocent people. The bad people got to tear mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, from their families. So his solution ironically was to do the same thing. He would kill those who he thought deserved it. Contradictory but his temper always got the best of him. Normally I would let him be angry, but not tonight. We had an agreement with Bruce, we needed his help. The agreement included no killing. As much as Jason hated it we couldn't do it ourselves this time, it was bigger than us.

For months we had been trying to investigate why the number of children missing spiked. At first, it was hard to notice. Street kids those who wouldn't be looked for. Then foster kids would be adopted more frequently finally, normal kids began to be abducted. Street kids would never leave each other, they were the closest thing to a family they had. So when they began reaching out to us we got worried and looked into it. We went around Gotham talking to them, they knew who we were and confessed everything. "Something is going on Jay. Something big." We climbed on his bike and went back to our apartment. We had been living together shortly after we started working together. We would always end up together at the end of the night too tired to go back to our own apartment. So we decided to get an apartment together. We each had our own rooms because we needed time apart sometimes. That was one of the most important things I learned. Sometimes you just need to be alone. It can be overwhelming spending so much time with one person. Especially the lack of sleep, and frustrations over unsolved cases, it all just took a toll on us. He took his helmet off and sighed running a hand through his hair. I pulled up my computer and looked into news articles. Of course, nothing had been mentioned about street kids. I was just about to put the paper down when my eyes drifted to a suggestion.

Percentage of foster kids adopted in Gotham rises

"No fucking way." I breathed, Jason loomed over my shoulder. I looked back at him, we shared a look. This wasn't a coincidence, someone was taking kids. No bodies were being found so why were they being taken? I had a couple of theories already. I stood up from the screen and pulled on my jacket, "Where are you going?" He asked following after me, keys still in hand. "To find out what the hell is going on." We tried to figure it out ourselves but it seemed like we were always 10 steps behind. So I suggested we get help. Outright, Jason was outraged I even suggested it so I walked away and let him cool down. Sure enough, he came around once he began thinking straight. I handed him his helmet, I had already turned his bike on, I smirked. He tossed his cigarette, "Not a fucking word." He growled as I tossed it to him and he caught it.

He got on and sped off, to the Wayne Manor. He scowled, as we arrived at the gates. The doors opened and he pulled in, we were greeted by Alfred. "To what do we owe this surprise?" He asked and I elbowed Jason, he remained silent. I rolled my eyes at his immaturity, "It's nice to see you again Alfred. We're here to talk to the boys." Jason turned to me, even angrier than before. Alfred looked between us and I gave him a polite smile as he walked us in. I lowered my voice, "Don't give me that shit. You know the boys are going to listen in if we want them to or not, better they know straight instead of getting crooked details." I rolled my eyes and gave him a begging look. I took my hand in his, I knew this isn't where he wanted to be and I was trying to keep him calm.

He huffed and then we arrived at the study. It took a while to get there since the Mansion was so big. Jason was boiling, he was so dramatic. We were greeted by Bruce, Dick, Tim, and Damian. "Both of you are here this can't be good." Damian commented as Jason growled, "Fuck off, Demon spawn." I gave his hand a squeeze and then looked at him Dick sighed as he and Tim exchanged looks. Bruce was deadly silent, waiting for us to explain why we were there. I wasn't going to speak this time, Jason had to say more than 4 words. I cleared my throat and nudged Jason giving him a stern look. He shuffled forward and rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. "We need your help." He said directly looking at Bruce, both holding their glares. It was amazing how incredibly alike they both were, and they refused to see it. I brushed my fingers over his knuckles, they were icy cold. His rings were even colder making a shiver run down my spine. I didn't even know if he was going to agree. Jason lost control the last time Bruce agreed to help us and I had to work without him. Jason was a pain the whole time, he kept asking for information but I wouldn't give it. I knew if I did he would follow and piss Bruce off. Bruce didn't speak for a long time. I assumed he was still holding the grudge.

"I'll keep him in check." I paused looking at Jason to make sure he didn't make things worse. He pressed his lips together, no doubt restraining himself by biting his tongue. Still, he didn't say a word. "Please we wouldn't bother you if this wasn't important." The two finally looked at me. Tim stepped forward this time, he spoke in a flurry. He stumbled over his words, "You're not bothering its really good to see you. Not just you. But not that it's not good to see you. It's good to uh see you both." I smiled, some of the tension was gone now. Dick clamped a hand over Tim's mouth to keep him from babbling further. The boys claimed he had a crush, I thought it was sweet. I looked up at Jason if looks could kill. Tim drove Jason crazy. Dick pet Tim and sighed as Damian snickered, "We talked about this Tim, too much caffeine makes you jittery." Dick chimed in a sing-song voice, almost gloating he told him so. "Speak for yourself I don't like seeing these ugly mugs around here." Dick smacked the back of Damian's head and he growled.

Jason almost pulled me behind him, it was pure instinct. He was already on edge being back at the mansion. He hated being here, he felt so out of place. He felt like a failure the rest of the boys were still under his wing, it was like he was replaced and pushed out. I wouldn't have dragged him here if I didn't think I had to. He was immediately silenced when Bruce put his hand out to shut everyone up. He rubbed his temple and sighed, "Jason is an adult, he should be able to control himself. If he can't and crosses a line again you're both done." Jason gripped my hand tighter, I knew he was seconds away from giving up keeping his mouth shut. His patience by now was paper-thin. I decided it would be best if I did the rest of the talking. "We understand."

Alfred called Bruce away and he excused himself leaving us with the boys. I saw Tim nudge Dick, and raised an eyebrow. I only caught a fragment of what Tim said, "Please, just ask." He rolled his eyes at his brother letting out a long sigh before he turned to me. "Is your wiring still acting up?" This caught Jason's attention, the wiring in the apartment wasn't acting up. He crossed his arms over his chest and waited for my response. I was confused for a moment until it hit me. In my other apartment my lights used to act up, I told Jason about it but he was asleep so I told myself I would tell him later. I never did. "Oh! No, I'm not in the apartment anymore!" I said, making Tim's head drop in shame. I mentioned something about the wiring and Tim most likely wanted to fix it. He seemed very interested whenever there were problems in my apartment, in fact, I'm sure he fixed every broken appliance. It was another reason to move in with Jason. "Oh," Dick said and then looked to Tim, he stepped forward. "You found a new place already?" I looked at Jason. He squirmed under my glare, the boys seemed interested, they could sense it.

"Actually, I moved in with Jason." 3 jaws simultaneously dropped. Jason scowled at them and I smirked, "You didn't tell them as I told you to." My voice seemed nice but my eyes were screaming murder. What if they needed me and couldn't reach me? This was something to bring up in private, judging by his look Jason knew that too. Jason turned to me and I pulled his arm and held a finger, "One second," I made it clear that we would continue the conversation later. The boys couldn't hear anything but he was in trouble. There was no hitting so that was a good thing. Tim whispered, "They moved in together? What does that mean?" Damian rolled his eyes, and Dick sighed. We made our way back to them. "I'm surprised you haven't killed him yet." Damian paused, "And a little impressed you've put up with him for so long."

"I keep trying but nobody ever let me get that far." There was a swarm of questions I shut my eyes and put my head on Jason's shoulder. My face turned bright red, Jason smirked and whispered in my ear. "I knew what the fuck I was doing darling." He said slowly taking in the fact that he was right. I underestimated the boys, and he was reveling. He pulled away and gave a short shout. They all stopped clamoring. "God, you guys were going to give me a headache." I brought my fingers to my temple and looked into their eyes. "One at a time please." Dick pushed the two aside murmuring he had privileges. Despite being older, he was just as curious as to his younger brothers. "Why did you move in?" I looked at Jason pleading, and he shook his head. "Not touching these questions with a 10 feet pole." I groaned but accepted my punishment. Maybe there was a reason for the secret. I thought about my answer for a moment then replied, "Well it was more out of convenience. One of us would always end up at the others, and my apartment had bad wiring. So we chose his. He got tired of having to go to mine and get his things. So he suggested it and now we live together."

Dick looked between us and nodded, satisfied with his answer. It was like an interrogation, and I was taking all of the heat. It was Tim's turn he even raised his hand. I pouted, he looked upset. I never took the whole crush thing seriously. Now I could really see it, this whole time I thought the boys were just teasing him. "Are you two together?" He hesitated and I froze unsure of how to answer. I didn't want to get his hopes up or break his heart but I honestly didn't know what to tell him. It seemed like it, we lived together, we slept together, but we never really talked about it. I looked at Jason he held the same panicked expression. How do could we explain that sometimes we had sex and then never talked about it? I tilted my head to him, to signal for his help.

He gave me a look, I asked for this. I really did. Nevertheless, he saved me. He too was thinking of the hookups, making him smirk. I covered my face and turned away trying to regain composure. In fact, I knew under Jason's shirt, there were purple marks trailing down his chest and I had ones that matched. He made his higher, and if my shirt were to shift, he could see. "We need to figure that out ourselves as well," Jason replied. It was a valid answer, Tim didn't seem to torn up about it. My hands absent-mindedly went over to rub my neck. Suddenly, it was hot. Judging by his look, Dick's suspicions were confirmed. Damian broke the silence pushing past Tim. "Do you kill people?" I shouldn't have been surprised, but I was. I ran my tongue across my bottom lip. I was so tempted not to answer. I knew it could backfire. Jason looked to me, wondering if he needed to save me again. I shook my head and looked back at Damian. "Due to my past, yes. I try not to now." Growing up in a sketchy place, I learned at a young age you can't depend on people. I fell in with the wrong people and made questionable decisions. However, every time I did kill I felt justified. I used to be as angry as Jason and I lost control a lot. But now working with Jason I calmed down, one of us needed to have a level head and I knew it probably wouldn't be him. I felt dirty now. I really opened a can of worms with that one. When it comes to his brothers I will never doubt Jason again.

In the next few weeks, we worked closely with the boys. Each night we got closer, to finding the source. We spent most of our nights in the Batcave tracing leads. Jason was getting antsy, so he went out and patrolled. Lucky that he did, because he caught an abduction as it was happening. "On 45th! They took a group of kids into a van." Jason's voice shouted in my ear. Dick shot up from his seat. The boys pilled into the Batmobile. I took my bike and followed close behind. Jason gave us the coordinates. "How far out are you?"

"11 minutes."

"We can't wait that long." I could hear the desperation in his voice. He knew exactly what those kids were going through. He was reliving his trauma. "Jason, if we blow this we lose them all. Wait for us. We can't let a single one alert the rest of the group." He went silent. Sensing the urgency we all sped up even more. The Batmobile was easily recognized and most civilians cleared a path. We arrived and saw Jason's bike parked in a nearby lot. He was set up on the roof overlooking the building making sure no one got out.

"I'm sending the drone," Tim called and released his bird into the air. He guided it into the building giving us a full view of what was inside. Children were in cages, surrounded by men with guns. In the center of the room, there was a table with computers. "They're waiting for the signal." Dick looked at all of us. "This has to be flawless. No mess-ups. We get one shot."

"Tim, I want you on those computers. I want to know everything on there. The rest of us have one job. Make sure no one gets away." Having received our orders we all grouped up. Tim ran another scan of the building. "Two from the roof, one from the back door, and two from the front." Jason and I took the roof, Dick took the back door and Damian and Tim took the front.

We all waited for the signal. "Now." Dick spoke into the comms. All at once, we each infiltrated the building. Tim went straight for the men by the computers. He took them out with ease and then uploaded his drive into the computer. Damian kept anyone away from the table. Jason and I focused on the guards who were standing by the children. We were mindful of their weapons and kept them away from the children.

Each of the men was bounded, ready for the GCPD. "Which one of you fuckers has the key?" Jason asked looking at each one of the men. Neither of them spoke a word. "Fine." He grabbed the closet man and took his hand. He took his index finger and in a swift movement pulled it back. An agonizing scream came from the man, and a loud cracking noise followed right after. I moved to Jason, "Do you really want to traumatize them even more?" He thought for a moment and then looked back at the man. "What about this one?" He grabbed his ring finger and then man yelped. "It's him!" He pointed to a blonde man across the room. I went over and reached in his pockets, sure enough, there was a key. I breathed a sigh of relief and began releasing the children. "How much longer on the drive?" Dick questioned Tim, "30 seconds."

Dick nodded and looked at me. "Alfred I need GCPD and medical."

"Right away, ETA is 3 minutes."

Jason took the same man by the collar and dragged him out of the room. I followed after him. "GCPD will be here in 3 minutes. We stopped them. We know where all their warehouses are, and everything we need is on that drive." I whispered to him but he didn't budge. "I only need 2. This one's a talker." He moved away and then looked at the man. "Who do you report to?"

"He'll kill me, he knows everything-" Jason didn't let him finish before he landed a devastating blow right to his face. "I don't have time for this. What is his name?" He grabbed his hair and held his face up. Blood trickled down his cheek. "But my-" Once again another blow landed on his face. The man coughed up blood, Jason didn't ask again. He waited for another few seconds. As he went to strike him again, the man pleaded. "Wait! David Benjamin." He managed to get it out.

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

Jason and I only got to stick around briefly. Our relationship with the police wasn't as amicable. Due to our spotty record, we had warrants out for our arrest. Once the children were taken by the EMTs we went back to our apartment. Jason was sitting on the fire escape. He still hadn't changed. The blood still seeping in his clothes. "Hey, come in." Jason looked down and obliged. Once he got in I shut the blinds. I guided him into the bathroom. "Let's get these off." I slowly took off his gloves, he inhaled deeply. I looked over them, they were bloody and raw. I sighed and turned on the warm water. "The rest of these too." My hands moved to his shirt and I pulled I off over his head. There were a few small cuts, but nothing that needed stitches.

Jason had been silent. I knew what was bothering him. He was thinking about those kids, he saw himself in each one of them. I guided him to the shower and helped him take off the rest of his clothes. I helped him into the shower and once he was under the warm water, it was like he was out of his trance. "Get in here."

I hadn't changed either. I was too worried about him. He was admitting that he needed the company. I agreed and stripped off my clothes. We both stood under the warm water. Neither of us spoke as we washed away the deeds of the night.

Once we got out of the shower we got dressed and sat on the bed. "We did it, Jason. They're safe now."

"I know." He said softly. I took his hands and gently ran my fingers across them. He sighed and looked at me. "Let's go to bed." I moved to the lamp by the bed and shut it off. I pulled the covers on the bed back and climbed into bed. I sighed and felt the warmth comfort me. My body ached, but it was worth it. I felt Jason tug me closer to him. I moved closer and rested my head on his chest. He ran his fingers through my hair absentmindedly. "Thank you." I looked up at him and he exhaled. "I don't know what I would do without you." He leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on my lips. His other hand moved around me and rested on my side. "I love you."

"I love you, Jay."

After weeks of restlessness, Jason finally closed his eyes and slept peacefully.

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mochegato · 4 years

Text

Covert Pregnancy

Covert Dating Covert Romance Covert Wedding Covert Marriage

Okay, yeah, the title gave it away but Adrien doesn’t know yet so shhhhh.

This was exactly what Adrien had been worried about. This is why he showed up in Marinette’s room before her wedding asking her if she was sure. He backed off because she promised him she was. She was confident this was the best move for her. And at first, it looked like she was right. Everyone could see the difference in her. That spark she used to have was back. That beaming smile returned and finally reached her eyes. They hadn’t seen Marinette like that since he first met her. And they all knew exactly what changed: Jason.

Jason was amazing to her. In their short marriage he had been nothing short of the ideal husband. It had been eight months of sickeningly sweet adoration and showering each other with affection. He showed her love and understanding, patience and support. But lately, Adrien had been noticing things. Little things. Things other people might not notice. Things that individually didn’t mean much, but taken together… Comments that Marinette made. Looks in her eyes. Excuses she made. Or as she was doing now, crying for no apparent reason.

One minute they were sitting on the couch, talking about nothing while some show they weren’t paying attention to played on the television in the background, the next she was sobbing. When he asked her what was going on she said it was nothing, she was just tired. She yawned and told him she was going to go to bed and he could let himself out.

There were only two things wrong with that. First, when she left she didn’t go to sleep. Jason hadn’t been home for a few days, which meant he wouldn’t be home to comfort Marinette, and Adrien was worried about her. So he took a bit longer to leave than he normally would have, which meant he heard her continuing to cry after she went to lay down instead of sleeping. Months ago, she would have called Jason when she felt like this, or she would have talked with him about it. But she wasn’t doing either. She was suffering alone, just like she did before she met Jason.

Second, he’s known Marinette for years. He knows tired Marinette. He might know Tired Marinette better than well rested Marinette. Tired Marinette is hyper. Tired Marinette bounces from thing to thing. Tired Marinette can’t focus. Tired Marinette is inspired, sometimes with the most heinous ideas ever thought of, but inspired nonetheless. Tired Marinette isn’t emotional at least not until she is so sluggish she can’t stand up straight. And even then, she isn’t like this. Tired Marinette is extra loving, not sad. This isn’t Tired Marinette. This isn’t well rested Marinette. This is something else.

The next few days seemed to go about the same, neither improving nor worsening. Marinette looked withdrawn, but she wouldn’t tell him that anything was wrong. But one thing he knew about Marinette was that she loved Christmas, and with Christmas only a little over a week away, he was sure she was getting more and more excited. She loved the friendly atmosphere, she loved the family baking, she loved the snow (watched through the window of a warm room while drinking hot chocolate), and she loved making presents for everyone she loved. And talking about Christmas and her plans for presents always made her happy.

“So, have you finished all your presents already? Or are you planning on using some of the time we’re closed next week to finish them?”

She looked up at him a bit startled, “Oh… um” she looked down like she was thinking about what to say. “I, um… I thought this year I might buy presents for everyone. It’s not like the family will notice, so… It’ll be fine.” She gave him a weak smile.

That wasn’t like her at all. Making presents was one of the ways she liked to show she cared about them. It was her love language. He had never known her to not make a present if she could. “What! Why?” He exclaimed before he could stop himself.

“I just. You know this year I thought maybe I’d give myself a break and… um… and this year go a bit more traditional.” She offered uncertainly.

He stared at her incredulously. Why would she change it now? Why would she think she should change what she had always done now? What had changed… Jason. Jason had changed. What had he said to her that made her think her handmade presents weren’t good enough for his family? Adrien hadn’t known the Waynes very long but he knew for certain they would absolutely love a present from Marinette. They loved Marinette’s designs and they loved Marinette. If Jason hadn’t married her, he was certain the Waynes would have made her a part of the family another way.

“Marinette, you’ve never been traditional. Making presents is your tradition. Everyone loves your presents. It wouldn’t be the same if it didn’t come from your hand.” He told her gently. She had to understand her gifts were more than good enough for everyone who loved her.

She looked down anxiously again but nodded at him, “Yeah, okay. I’ll see what I can do.” Instead of looking more confident, she seemed to shrink in on herself.

He smiled encouragingly at her. She would see. As soon as the family opened her presents, they would be so excited, she would forget any nervousness or insecurity she had indulged in to convince herself she shouldn’t do it.

By the time patrol came around, she did seem happier and more confident. It helped significantly that Jason had returned from his mission and was going on patrol with them again. It was also sure to be appreciated by the Redbird shippers, who had cropped up quickly after Ladybird made her debut with the bats a few months ago, working primarily with Red Hood. She was a rarely seen but much loved addition.

Before patrol, Red Hood gave her a seemingly sweet kiss to the temple and whispered to her sternly. She smiled back weakly and nodded in response, turning to the family with a serious expression, ready to go out. He noticed even when she turned away, Red Hood kept a strong grip on her waist, not letting her wander too far from his side. And whenever Blackwing tried to get close to her, Red Hood would step between them. Adrien could feel the glares Red Hood was shooting him even through the helmet, but for the life of himself he couldn’t figure out what he had done to deserve it.

After a few moments of Blackwing awkwardly trying to catch Ladybird’s attention to see if she was okay, Batman brought the attention to himself, “Let’s pair off and head out. Nightwing, you’re with Robin. Spoiler, you’re with Red Robin. Red Hood, you’re with Blackbat. Ladybird, you’re with Blackwing.”

“No.” Red Hood spoke up gruffly. “Ladybird is with me tonight.”

“Hood…” Batman started out.

“Ladybird. Is. With. Me.” He growled out threateningly. Ladybird put her hand on his arm to calm him down.

Batman sighed and nodded. “Fine. Blackwing, you’re with Blackbat tonight. Ladybird, you’re with Red Hood.”

Blackwing scowled at Red Hood, but moved next to Blackbat. It wasn’t unusual for Jason to want to patrol with Marinette but he normally wasn’t so aggressive about it, almost like he was protecting her from them… or separating her from them. Or maybe it was him Jason was trying to keep her from. It was fine. He would see Marinette in the office tomorrow and he was sure Batman would not let Red Hood change the patrol partners next time.

Instead of quelling his concerns, the next day only made them worse. All the excitement from the night before was gone. Instead, she looked beat down and weak. She offered halfhearted smiles, which seemed to convince the other’s in the office that she was fine, but Adrien knew her too well. He eyed her closely as she walked through the office with a few models they were planning on using for their next show. She was having difficulty focusing on their conversation. It was nothing significant and anyone else might not even notice, but he noticed her periodically glancing critically at people as they were eating.

He watched her until he realized he hasn’t seen her eating lately. It wasn’t uncommon for her to do when she was stressed out. But, when she was reminded to eat or food was brought to her, she would always eat. That was the solution then. She might not be willing to talk about whatever was wrong, but he could at least do this for her. He could provide her favorite comfort foods.

By the time she was out of her meeting, he had her favorite foods laid out on her desk for her. She walked in with a sigh before she looked up and noticed him and the food. She gasped and her eyes bugged out as the smell hit her. “Adrien, what is this?”

“I noticed you haven’t been eating lately so I thought we could finish up any loose ends we have before we close down for the next two weeks while we eat.” He answered cheerfully.

She pursed her lips tightly, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. “That was thoughtful of you, Adrien, but… um… I’m trying to lose weight. Yeah! Trying to lose weight before the gala, so… uh… I think this isn’t the best idea.” She turned her eyes to him and gave him a guilty smile. “But I really appreciate you thinking of me! We should talk though before we close for the holidays tonight, just… not right now. I… have to… I’ll be right back.” She rushed out of the room.

When she came back, they decided to meet in the conference room instead. After making sure they had responded to everyone that was waiting, they decided to close the office early so the other employees could finish any holiday shopping they needed to do. It was the perfect opportunity to spend time with Marinette. They always had a lot of fun shopping and maybe he could get her to stop at a café with him and eat something. He didn’t know why she thought she had to lose weight but he did not approve. She was already extremely thin. If anything she was too thin, especially considering their vigilante work and how many calories that burned through. It was bordering on unhealthy.

“Hey,” he started tentatively, “since we’re closing early anyway, do you want to help me pick some things out for Christmas? I still have a bunch of presents to get and you know the Waynes a lot better than I do. We could spend my money and hang out?”

She gave him another weak, tired smile. “I would love to, Chaton. But I am still so tired. I think I’m going to go home and take a nap. Maybe we can do it tomorrow? And I think we’re paired up tonight so I’ll see you then and we can talk and turn off the coms to plot presents.”

“Yeah, sure. That sounds good. I’ll see you tonight.” He nodded looking down. It felt like he was losing her, but more importantly, it felt like she was losing herself again and it was breaking his heart to see it.

When he got to the meeting point for patrol that night Ladybird and Red Hood were nowhere to be seen. They were later than usual. He was starting to get a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. “Hey, Nightwing? Where are Ladybird and Red Hood?”

“Oh, Red Hood said they weren’t going to make it tonight.” He shrugged it off unconcerned. He leaned conspiratorially toward Blackwing, “It sounds to me like they are going to be pulling back from patrols entirely for a little while. I think Red Hood wants them to focus on each other since they never really got a honeymoon.”

“Huh,” Adrien looked away, his brows furrowed. “She was looking forward to patrol tonight…” Nightwing clapped him on the back.

“Newlyweds, right?” He laughed before jumping off to start his route.

Adrien stared after him, the pit in his stomach growing bigger and more acidic. It was fine. He would call her to go shopping tomorrow and talk with her then, preferably without Jason standing over her shoulder. He huffed, shook his head to refocus himself and jumped off the roof to start his route.

But the next day wasn’t better. Neither were the next few days. He called and texted Marinette each day to check on her and ask if she wanted to do something but each time she said she was too busy to do anything. It was like she cut herself off from him. Maybe he shouldn’t be so concerned. He knew he was clingy sometimes, so maybe she just needed a short break from him. But lunch with Duke made him rethink his that.

“Wait, so you haven’t seen Marinette for the last few weeks either?”

“Yeah. We were supposed to go out for lunch last weekend and she was going to go Christmas present shopping with me but Jason called at the last minute to tell me ‘you’re a big boy, you can do it on your own.’”

“Really?”

“Eh, yeah. Just Jason being his normal obsessive, controlling, asshole self.” He shrugged it off.

“You think Marinette didn’t want to go?”

“No, I think she did, but probably Marinette needed more time for her presents and he didn’t want her stressed out so he interceded. You know Marinette, she’ll take too much on and doesn’t say no.”

“I suppose…” Adrien trailed off. That was true but Marinette would have told him that. She would babble endlessly, excitedly about the presents she was working on and the details she was putting into each one for each person and why. But she wasn’t doing that. She wasn’t talking with anyone, not just him.

Concerned didn’t begin to describe what Adrien felt right now. He needed to talk with Marinette and see how she was doing and see what was going on. He understood wanting a honeymoon period but it just was not like Marinette to close herself off from everyone around her, not if she was happy, not if she was mentally healthy and flourishing. It was what she did when she started spiraling. It was what she did during and after Hawkmoth. It was exactly what they had thought Jason was bringing her out of. But now it looked like he was helping to push her back to that state.

This was finally it. Jason was not going to be able to keep her away tonight. This was the Wayne family Christmas gathering. Jason and Marinette could not miss this without the family hunting them down and invading wherever they were. Adrien was going to be able to see Marinette and check on her, make sure she was okay.

When he got to the manor everyone was already there chatting, laughing, and snacking before the gift exchange and dinner. Damian was scowling at something Dick said, or maybe it was at the reindeer antlers he was wearing while Cass smiled approvingly at Dick. Tim was chatting with Barbara and Stephanie about something that required outlandish gestures from Tim, eliciting belly laughs from Barbara and eye rolls from Stephanie. Bruce was pretending to read a book in the corner of the room while he watched his family interacting with a contented smile on his face. Duke had just poured a few glasses of wine and passed one off to Marinette before walking over to greet Adrien.

Adrien gave him a warm hug but kept his eyes on Marinette, which is how he noticed Jason take Marinette’s wine away while she watched after it longingly with a pout but not an objection. Adrien cocked his head to the side and studied her expression. After a few moments he noticed it. He had enough experience in makeup to know when it was covering something. She had caked the concealer on around her eye but there was the telltale darkening there.

Before he even realized he had moved, Adrien had crossed the room to where Jason and Marinette were standing. “Hey” he yelled, getting Jason to turn around and face him. Adrien reeled back and punched Jason as hard as he could, putting his full weight behind the hit. The punch wasn’t enough to drop Jason but it was enough for him to stumble back a few steps.

“What the actual fucking fuck, Agreste!” Jason yelled holding his jaw and moving a little so he was between Adrien and Marinette.

Everyone in the room turned their attention to them. Only Dick and Duke had moved to intercede. The family was more than used to punches getting thrown. Standard practice was to assess if they were in the fight zone and might get caught in the collateral damage. If not return to what they had been doing before the fight broke out. However, this was different. Dick and Duke wouldn’t have even gotten up except it was Adrien. Adrien had never hit any of them outside of a sparring mat. Whatever was going on must be something extremely upsetting to Adrien and have been wearing on him for a while.

Duke looked between the two, his eyes flashing golden for a moment before he looked back to Marinette with a look of wonder in his eyes. “Oh my God,” he said so quietly Marinette could barely hear him despite standing right next to him. She looked over at him with a questioning look on her face. He gave her an excited grin and nodded to her and moved to stand between the boys who were still locked in a staring contest before Adrien could throw any more punches.

“I don’t know exactly what you are doing to her, but it stops now! I don’t care who your family is. If you ever lay a hand on her again, I’ll make good on the promise I made to you before you got married.” He yelled at Jason, struggling against Dick, who was barely holding him back.

“What the ever loving Fuck are you talking about Agreste?” Jason yelled back. He pushed to move forward but Duke held up a hand and shook his head with a stern expression. Jason glared at him before looking back at Adrien. “If you are suggesting I have ever so much as laid an unwelcome hand on Marinette…”

“I can see the black eye, you bastard.” Adrien growled back. “You’ve been keeping her from going on patrol so I know she didn’t get it there. That leaves you. God only knows how many others you’ve caused on her. That explains why she’s been crying so much lately, why she doesn’t go out with friends anymore. She’s not even eating. And, what?” he yelled motioning to the drinks Jason had taken from Marinette. “You don’t want your wife drinking in front of your family? She’s not the one embarrassing them self.”

Jason continued glaring at him for a few moments before he looked down and let out a deep sigh. Marinette moved closer to him until she was leaning against his side. He reached back blindly for her hand. They were a team, they would get through this. Dick looked at Marinette again, examining her eye. Adrien was right, now that he really looked, he could see the makeup hastily applied around her eye. He looked to Jason in shock, “Jason?”

Duke gave Dick a pointed look and shook his head to let Dick know it wasn’t what it seemed. The rest of the family took note of Duke’s actions and stared at Marinette like she was a puzzle. Cass was the first one to figure it out. Her eyes widened and she gasped as soon as she did. She looked to Marinette with a questioning look and formed a fist with her hand and shook it by her cheek. Marinette smiled back and nodded. Cass squealed in delight.

Tim and Damian caught the sign and whipped their heads back to Marinette. Tim jumped up to hug Marinette but Damian sank further back into the couch. “Oh for the love of… Tell me this isn’t true.”

Dick immediately glared at Damian. “Of course it isn’t true! Jason would never hurt Marinette. There is something else going on.”

“Obviously, idiot. Take a look around and rethink your assumptions. They’ve given more than enough clues.” Damian huffed out with a roll of his eyes.

“Marinette? Jason?” Dick prompted them.

“Yeah. I’d love to hear what the explanation for all of this is.” Adrien jeered trying to push past Dick again.

“Not exactly the way we wanted to do this, we actually had presents to announce it, but…” Marinette started but she looked to Jason for help, squeezing his hand for comfort.

Jason took the hint and turned to her so he could wrap her up in his arms. He gave her a wink and a devilish smile before answering the question, “I didn’t knock her around, I knocked her up, asshole.” Marinette glared at him playfully.

Bruce groaned and ran his hand over his face. “Really, Jason? That’s how you chose to tell us?” He let out a deep sigh and smiled at them. “Congratulations Marinette and Jason. That’s really exciting.”

“Tell us what? What’s exciting?” Adrien looked around confused, “What does that mean?”

Marinette smiled kindly at Adrien, “It means, I’m pregnant. That's why I want to drink the wine but I can't. That's why I have no appetite lately, because I throw up anything I eat and just the smell or thought of the smell does the same. That's why I can't go out with you guys at night anymore even though I keep trying, because I start out fine but I’m so utterly exhausted and the world is usually spinning for me by the time patrol ends. It's why I cry at commercials on the TV, because I'm so ridiculously emotional right now. And I know I’m being overly emotional but I still can’t stop the tears. The more I try, the more I cry. It’s infuriating. I’m emotional and nauseous and hungry and exhausted and scared. But more than anything else, I'm excited and really happy. I can't wait to have a family with Jason.” She smiled lovingly at Jason. He reached down and stroked her cheek.

“You're going to be a mom?” Adrien asked tentatively, excitement already shining in his eyes.

She smiled shyly at him. “There are consequences for being impulsive. This is it. Plus, you know, wielder of Creation,” she pointed at herself. “Apparently that greatly increases my likelihood of getting pregnant.”

“And the black eye?” Dick asked for clarification.

“Ugh. I don’t know if it’s because of the miraculous intensifying things or just natural hormones but I’ve had ridiculous morning sickness. Honestly, I’m so beyond excited about the baby, but I’m ready to be past the throwing up constantly part. Have you ever thrown up so violently you gave yourself a black eye?” She pointed to her eye. “I have. 0/10 Do not recommend.”

“You’re going to be a mom.” Adrien repeated with a huge grin. Completely ignoring the last part of her statement.

Marinette laughed. “Yes, I'm going to be a mom. Jason is going to be an amazing dad. And you, if you can stop punching my baby's father for 5 minutes, are going to be an awesome uncle.”

“I'm going to be an uncle?” Adrien looked at her in wonder before it all finally settled in. He turned to Dick and yelled excitedly, “I'm going to be an uncle!” He turned to Duke and grabbed him into a hug, “I’m going to be an uncle!” He turned to the next person and said it again. However that next person happened to be Jason who was not as amused by his excitement as the rest of the room. “Yeah, I know. I’m going to be the father.” He said flatly.

Adrien’s expression quickly switched to guilt. “Oh God, Jason, I’m so sorry! I’m sorry for hitting you and I’m really, really sorry for thinking you would hurt Marinette.”

Jason waved him off, “Nah, it’s okay. I’m glad she has you to protect her. I worry about her, you know, especially now. Late nights, all-consuming design kicks, asshole businessmen… I know she can handle herself, but it’s good to see you’ll have her back if she needs it, even if it had to be from me.”

Adrien watched them with a soft look. Jason was watching Marinette so lovingly and stroking her cheek so gently. The smile on his face as he looked at her was pure bliss. And the look Marinette was giving him displayed a peace and elation he had never seen on her face. Looking at them now, he doesn’t know how he could have ever thought otherwise. Jason was going to be an amazing dad and she was going to be an amazing mom. He started as a sudden thought struck him. “Hey, Marinette? Have you told your mom already?”

“Oh God yes!” Jason exclaimed before Marinette could respond. “I’d like to live to see my child, thank you.”

She smiled wryly at him and chuckled. “She almost knew before Jason did. I wasn’t willing to risk her wrath again.”

Tim looked at them with an incredulous expression. “Seriously? I’ve seen her mom. She’s shorter than Marinette, and that’s saying something.” He ignored the glare she sent his way. “Are you seriously saying you’re afraid of her?”

“Yes.” Jason responded without hesitation.

“Is she really that scary? Really?”

Jason, Marinette, and Adrien looked at each other with grim looks and haunted eyes, “Yes!” they responded at the same time.

“We didn’t tell her about the wedding until a few weeks after and I don’t think I’ve ever been so nervous and scared.” Jason shuttered. He reflexively hugged Marinette closer at the thought.

“I can’t believe you seriously thought Jason would hurt me at all let alone risk my Mom’s wrath.” Marinette shook her head with a smile, snuggling into Jason’s chest.

“How was I supposed to know? You said you weren’t eating because you were trying to lose weight!” Adrien exclaimed. “That’s not what I expect a pregnant woman to say.” Marinette winced at that.

“You said you were trying to lose weight?” Jason straightened up.

“I panicked!” Marinette exclaimed. “We weren't telling people we were pregnant yet and I just said the first thing that came to my mind.” She looked down sheepishly. She really should be better at thinking under pressure by this point.

“And that was to lose weight?” Jason asked cautiously.

Marinette sighed, “I had just been talking with some models who said another brand told them they needed to lose weight. I was thinking I should talk to Adrien about a company policy against things like that.”

“Oooo, that’s a good idea. We should do that.” Adrien nodded.

“I know, right? So it was on my mind.”

“Okay… so you're not worried about your weight, right?” Jason searched her eyes for confirmation.

“No,” Marinette shook her head, eyes shining fondly at him. “My priority is making sure our baby and I are healthy, not my weight.”

Jason sighed a relieved breath, pressing his forehead to hers and smiling adoringly at her. “Good because I love you like this…” he kissed her cheek, “and I’m going to love you like you'll be in 3 months…” he kissed her forehead, “and how you'll be in 6 months…” he kissed her other cheek, “and how you’ll be after the baby, too.” He pressed a gentle but passionate kiss on her lips and hugged her even closer.

“Ew! Guys we do not want to see you reenact how you conceived the baby.” Tim groaned in disgust.

“Relax. We’re not going to do anything here.” Jason snapped. A relieved sigh was heard from more than one person in the room. “But we can get the video out if you want.” Jason added with a smirk.

Marinette squawked and turned a deep red color, furiously waving her arms. “There is no video! He’s joking.” She slapped him arm before burying her head in his chest trying to disappear in embarrassment.

“Yeah, it would be hard to figure out which video it was…” he added grinning devilishly down at her. He wanted to see just how red he could get her to turn and embarrassment in front of his family was the best way to do it.

“There are no videos. He’s just being an ass.” She turned quickly to the family to reassure them.

“That’s what she wants you to think.” Jason smiled even wider.

“Jason…” she growled. Jason noticed the subtle switch in red on her face from embarrassment red to annoyance red and decided the game was over. It was no longer teasing. It was now picking on her. She was having a rare period of not feeling like she was going to throw up or pass out and he didn’t want to ruin that for her.

“Okay, sorry. I was just kidding.” He rubbed her arms and kissed her temple gently. “It’s too magical to be caught on film anyway.” He couldn’t stop himself from adding with a cheeky grin. Marinette let out a deep, long suffering groan but let him wrap his arms around her from behind and nuzzle into her hair. He chuckled lightly, his hands finding her not-yet-showing belly to caress it, and whispered into her ear, “I love you.” She sighed again, covered his hands with hers, laid her head back on his chest, and whispered with a contented smile, “I love you, too.”

<><><><><>

Fun Fact: I threw up so much and so violently during one bout of morning sickness, I broke a bunch of vessels in my eye and around it, effectively giving myself a black eye. Hence it’s mention in this fic.

Also, we’re pretending there was never a Blackwing before.

Also also, the sign Cass did was the sign for “aunt”.

#maribat #jasonette #Covert Jasonette

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marisandini-chu-blog · 3 years

Text

Bruce Wayne is a Simp for Bad Bitch

OmG I can’t believe I’m writing the obvious but the idea is in my head and I need a place to word vomit.

Okay, so it occurred to me that Bruce has a more serious and intense relationship canonically with three women, as far as I know; Andrea Beaumont, Talia Al’ghul, and Selina Kyle. All of whom are the epitome of Bad Bitch with the capital B. (Yes, I’m ignoring Rachel Dawes from Nolanverse. The only thing I like about it is the Iconic Joker. No batman movie is good enough without the Batfam.)

Why do I raise this point, you might ask? Well, that’s because I want to rant that Bruce, my boy, my man, my childhood comfort character is actually a SIMP?!?!

Like... I’m just... urgh.... okay... I am very vocal for a healthy relationship with commitment and based on mutual love and respect. So the fact that Bruce has only bad, iffy, or casual relationships really want to tear my hair out. And why my heart don’t want to ship with any of them, even though BatCat is one of my favorite pairing!

I am a WonderBat shipper because I love watching them in JLAU as a kid and even though I’m not slash shipper unless it’s canon, SuperBat made much more sense to me. Heck even a threesome with the Trinity would have been healthier relationship rather than whatever Bruce had with the three of them and here’s why:

You might not have heard of Andrea, but she’s canon from the Timmverse movie called Batman and the Mask of Phantasm which is A REALLY GREAT MOVIE. Totally recommend. One of the best Batman movie at all times (Yes, I say Batman movies not Batman Animated movies). Has great plot twist and good pacing. so Spoiler Alert! Andrea was Bruce’s fiancé, making her possibly Bruce’s first love, before his journey and possibly could have stop him from becoming Batman (I would say he’s a simp in this case, but he would have had a much more happier, healthy household so it’s not bad thing) if she hadn’t disappear for being a Mob Boss’ Daughter!!!

I repeat, a mob boss’ daughter.

And she came back only to be a mask avenging assassin that went toe-to-toe with Batman.

And she could have choose to stay with Bruce but she didn’t because she choose vengeance over him. Like.... Bats, you should stop with the “I am Vengeance” routine you’ve got going on because she does it better than you ngl.

So she left and I cried at the end of that movie because trauma wasn’t enough, you put heartbreak after heartbreak to my boy. Thanks DC.

Then there’s Fucking Talia Al’ghul which is a no brainer why she’s not Bad but BAD. Like, Talia groom Jason, supervise Damian’s harsh, brutal, and abusive training, control Damian through the implant spine to kill Dick, orders Damian execution before regretting it, DRUG BRUCE when CONCEIVING DAMIAN!!! And that’s only the top of my head.

And if you want to blame it on Morrison’s writing, THAT’S FINE. We’ve bitched about Tom King’s writing enough to know it’s valid.

But, BUT, bUt... it needs to be address that even before Morrison, Talia CHOOSE to stay in the League of Assassin. People can tell me that she’s a complex character that’s loyal to her father but love Bruce and that her upbringing makes her complicated or whatever. Nuh-uh. You don’t get to make Talia helpless when it suited you. Talia is a fucking Bad Bitch (TM). She’s been taught to do whatever the fuck she wants according to her belief and ideal. At some point, Talia knew she wanted to be in position of power in the League rather than staying with Bruce.

But it’s canon that Talia, if I remember correctly, doesn’t like Gotham or Bruce’s mission. She thinks being a hero is beneath them or whatever. And doesn’t understand why Gotham is special to Bruce. So yeah, you might not agree how Morrisons write her. But do not fucking tell me she’s not a character who will not be willing to do what she thinks it’s necessary to get what she wants, including training her son as an assassin. I mean, she likes being the Demon’s Daughter in the league. She may not agree with her father but Talia wants to give Damien what she wants. Power.

Talia loves Bruce. That’s a fact. He’s probably the only person that makes her feel like she’s a person instead of the Demon’s Daughter. Bruce has a knack for that. To make people want to be better, even just a little. Talia could have chosen him, if she wanted to. The fact that she helps him so much when fighting against her father numerous times is proof enough.

I'm highly suspecting the reason she stays is because she knows Bruce would always forgive her (SIMP ALERT) unlike her father who would straight up stab her if she ever betrays him.

I’m not saying there’s no love for her son, I’m just saying if she even looks at the batfam funny than I will raise my flamethrower on that bitch’s face. Because you can’t rely on Bruce on that. That man would give bullshit excuse for her or want to handle her himself because your “history” with her makes you entitled.

Aaaah, don’t you just love it when there’s a great villain you can hate on so much?

I'm not saying she can't be a good person. Pre-morisson made Talia more of an anti-hero. But I do like Talia "I'mma cut a bitch" al'ghul. It's just... I like ruthless Bad Bitch like her. Though preferably she could have balance it with more of her maternal side through Damian.

Okay, I’m getting off tangent. Now comes to my favorite girl. Catwoman. Selina Kyle. The famous ship of all Bruce’s relationship sans SuperBat.

I... am conflicted the most about this.

See, Selina is one of the few people who understands Bruce. Who was there when he needed a shoulder to rely on. Someone who doesn’t take Bruce’s shit, and one of the constant person in Bruce’s life.

But not... constant enough. Which is a theme of her, even in her fursona... I, I mean PERSONA, PERSONA!!!

Anyway, I love seeing these two broken people. One handles it with violence and vigilantism, the other through thieving with a Robinhood-esque thing going on. So of course they get each other. It always helps that they try to make each other better. Selina taught Bruce to be okay of being selfish of wanting to be happy, and Bruce believed there’s good in her that makes her feel she’s not a hopeless case, y’know? It’s even canon that in one universe, they’re married and have daughter, Helena Wayne. So... yeah? Happy end! (Until they died but that’s non issue here at the moment.)

Then Tom King (Urgh, him again) wrote Bat proposing to Cat, and by the time they’re about to be married. Selina left him at the altar.

So yeah.

But then they get metaphysically? Figuratively? married after the Flashpoint which they turn Thomas Wayne into a villain (At least make him from alternate universe instead of timeline!!!) and kill Alfred (WhYYYYYY?! Bruce suffered enough why do you go kill both his fathers dammit!!! Let the goddamn butler rest in peace). And basically Selina and Bruce promise each other forever. Which is sweet. BatCat Forever, am I right???

Yeah, here’s the problem. (And I’m just nitpicking here, okay). For all Tom King’s character assassination of Bruce, he did Selina right in one thing. Which is the fact she doesn’t like being tied down by anything.

If Talia puts importance in power. Selina puts importance in freedom and her self-independence.

I remember as a kid watching BTAS, that Selina didn’t want a relationship with batman if it meant changing who she is. So when Selina left the altar, I wasn’t surprise at the news. Then she actually agreed to marry him, only this time, she didn’t need a judge or a paper to make the marriage legit, y’know. And I thought, yeah that’s so her.

But the thing is Bruce. Accepts. Her. Every. Single. Time.

Without a single thought. She asked, “Do you still want to get married?” and he asked “When?”

Even though it’s not the first that Cat leaves him hanging.

Tell me he’s not a simp for that.

It’s great that he accepts her for everything she is. But I’m conflicted because Selina stays static. She stays with the cat theme in the fact she doesn’t want to held back by anything. She takes what she wants. She loves who she loves. And no one was gonna change her. But then where’s the character growth?

Is it regressive of me to think Selina should be ‘tied down’ or express commitment when she never has been tied down before even though she loves Bruce?

Is it not-feminist of me to think Selina has to change herself for a man?

I just don’t like the fact Bruce and Selina enables their masked persona. Their relationship is strongly base on their cat-and-mouse chase. They nicknamed each other “Bat” and “Cat” for God’s sake. Even though yes, it’s canon that “Batman” and “Catwoman” is their real selves and their civilian life is their masks. Heck, she didn’t go for the altar because she believed (though manipulated) that making Bruce happy would make Batman insufficient, or losing him entirely (Thank Tom King for that).

That would be true, and stay true if not for one thing. Which is some thing what Bruce has that Selina doesn’t:

The Batfam.

Bruce’s real identity isn’t just the Batman anymore. He has to be a single father with growing children he never plan to adopt but did anyway because they needed each other. He can’t use his batman persona to be a father at his house, but he will when training them to be his partner. His family became the strength to Bruce’s fight for Justice.

Bruce is the Batman, but he’s not everything who he is. Selina is supposed to be part of the batfamily yet sadly, I haven’t read or watch anything that has her interact with them in a positive way or actually bond with them. Heck, when Alfred inform the proposal to the batfam they were shocked and thought it was a bad idea even (And they’ve known her for almost half their life by the way.)

The fact that Tom King implied Bruce was never happy or wasn’t happy enough without marrying Cat when his Batfam should be the source of his pride and joy?! Apparently family means nothing to Batman. Woah DC, what a great message you’re sending here.

I guess that’s why, I was a bit iffy when Selina “marriage” with Bruce isn’t official. Because she commits to the man but she doesn’t say she’ll commit to the family (though I suppose it could be imply or I just forget stuff). The batkids are grown up enough that they don’t really need a maternal figure, but that doesn’t mean they don’t need more emotionally available people in the family. And that I haven’t seen much of her taking effort to bond with the people that’s the most important to Bruce.

It just makes her want to commit to Batman instead of Bruce Wayne, in my eyes I guess.

So yeah, that’s why Wonderbat and Superbat makes more sense to me. Because they’ll make an effort to be THERE for the family and they’ll be just generally be a healthier relationships because, again, emotionally available so they might talk when they have a problem instead of running off the altar when you think a Happy Batman is Bad Batman. But no, DC have to make Bruce is a simp and his life edgy.

Anyway, I might be wrong in some things because, you know. Canon becomes a blur to me after a while.

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blissfulalchemist · 3 years

Text

A Chance for Faith Ch.10

Hello there all! I have another chapter! This is a direct follow up to chapter 7 “Finding You”. This piece was intended to be a few prompts that just all started to fit together into what we have now. So @unleashed111 and @jedi-mabari thank you for your patience and I hope that I could deliver on the prompt requests.

Word Count: 7k

Warnings: There is a nsfw(ish?) bit near the end of the piece. Alcohol use and minor drug use.

Ao3

The tears that welled up in her jade green eyes cause his heart rate to increase, while the hand that reaches out to him sends him stumbling back a few steps. His back hits the counter, fingers gripping tight to the edge of it, giving a small shake of his head. She frowns, taking another step closer to him. He panics and slaps the money on the counter, it should be enough, mumbling for the attendant to keep the change. Chance’s knuckles burn white gripping the crate as he pushes past the woman, head leaning downward focusing on the bottles. She’s lying, there was no way that was his mom. She’s dead. Long gone.

The slam of the truck door, crate tossed next to him, nails digging into his palm as his hands wrap around the wheel. He’s gasping, chest burning, aching, resting his forehead against the steering wheel. She’s wrong, I’m not her son. I’m not her son, he repeats. His jaw tightens as his hands start to relax enough to grab the first bottle, its cap twisting off with ease. There’s no burn from the vodka as he makes his way through almost a quarter of the bottle. His eyes land on the woman as she works her way through the store, even from this distance he can see that the clothing identifies her as a member that lives on the compound. They are some of the most loyal, the ones that had the most faith, and were guaranteed a spot in New Eden so Joseph wanted to keep them close. Many of those people were from the days at the warehouse in Georgia and the lack of glassy eyes….She’s one of the originals, the ones that had joined somewhere along the road to Hope County.

Those eyes….something about those eyes….

She says his eyes remind her of her grandmother’s eyes. A good woman and someone she’d have loved to have met Chance had she’d not passed just the year before. I think the jade will darken as he gets older, taking after the man Andi thinks is his father.

“January twenty-fifth, nineteen ninety-four,” he mumbled, watching as the door opened and the woman moved to the standardized beige truck of the peggies. Chance took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly, “Worst case is that she’s just confused,” Wrong! Worst case is a trap that’ll get you killed. As if it really mattered anymore. There really wasn’t anything more that could make his life worse. “Fuck it,” Chance stepped out of the car, jogging up to catch the woman before she drove off. Her eyes lit up, a smile crossing her features as she met his eyes again. He kept his distance, arms crossed with his back straight, “Look, for all I know you have me confused with someone else.”

She shook her head, “I’m positive that I don’t.”

He suppressed the eye roll, choosing to narrow them, “Either way, I guess it doesn’t hurt to talk to you at the very least.”

“Really?” She gasped, eyes going wide, “You’re willing to talk to me?”

Chance gave a shrug, “Yeah. Why not.”

She straightened out her smile only growing, “Well we should talk in a more private setting, so I’ll follow you.”

Chance gave a slow nod, “Right….you follow me,” To some destination I haven’t even thought of. He made it back into the truck, pulling out of the gas station watching through the mirror as she pulled out behind him. Home was out of the question, some random field wasn’t a good idea with how exposed it was, most buildings near here were boarded up and contained who knew what. Leave it to me to not have a plan, he thought as he scanned the road and area ahead of him. Finally a little farther up ahead on his left the baseball field with old fashioned dugouts, There were worse places to have potentially life changing conversations.

He slowed to a stop the dust billowing around him and the truck pulling up next to him. His hands shook, stomach turning once the car stopped, how he wished this was an after effect of the alcohol. It was now or never though, and he wanted to pick never. The bottle came to his lips once again, he just needed enough to get himself out of the car. This felt like the stupidest idea he had had since coming back here, hell it probably had to be the worst one in his life. If she was his mom, did she really deserve the time of day? Was she going to just make everything right again? She left him behind….

May 29, 1997

Andi Greene has no more chances. She will never see Chance as long as I can help it.

Twice. Maybe more that his father never found necessary to record, either way that was the last time his dad ever spoke of her.

Glancing over he caught sight of the woman staring straight ahead, Is she feeling the same as I am?, she was going to find out if this was her child and whether it was him or not in the end, there still had to be some kind of guilt there on her end….right? If it was him though….if she was right….

It couldn’t be, Andi Greene was long dead and gone.

Chance took another deep breath and made his way out to the dugouts, the slamming of a car door following him. The shuffling of the rocks beneath them grating his ear drums as Chance picked the home team. He pointed to the seat further in, “You can have that one,” she gave a nod settling herself, Chance grabbing another. He straddled the foldable metal chair, resting his chin on the back of it, mouth going dry. She stared at him, shifting, hands clasping and unclasping, Chance’s leg bouncing. He cleared his throat, readying to-.

“So I assume you have a lot of questions for me,” she said rapidly, “Just ask anything you want.”

He tilted his head cocking a brow, “Not really other than what your name is,” Probably should have asked that first, could have saved a bit of trouble.

“Oh. Yes. My name is Andrea Greene, but most everyone used to call me Andi,” Okay maybe it was possible, “And you’re still Chance I see.”

He frowned, “Why would I be going by any other name?”

“Dr. Ruicknar,” her jaw clenched, her eyes closing a moment while taking a deep breath, “well he believed that you should have been named Jason. So I just assumed….”

“Don’t think he ever really tried to change it. Knew that Chance was my name, always has been and always will be.”

She gave a thin smile, “Figures.”

He sat up straighter, thumbs tapping on the back of the metal, “Well a name doesn’t prove much of anything. The kind of stuff you just said is almost common knowledge around here.” Okay maybe the whole potential different name thing isn’t.

“You’re right,” she nodded, “Then ask me something that you think only your mom would know.”

I don’t have too. I can just leave. I never needed her before, “When did you leave me?”

She blinked slowly, looking down to her lap, “Of course, there would be no other question that you’d ask first,” her voice softer. “I always hate to admit this, I mean you’d think,” she gave a weak laugh, her smile thin, “that admitting it in one’s confession and getting it marked on your body would make it easier.” His eyes followed her hand as she rubbed the left side of her chest, she swallowed, “I was selfish, the first time I left, and well I’m sure you know of the second time.” She cleared her throat, sitting straighter, “So, forgive me, you’ll have to be a little more specific I’m afraid.” Chance’s palms began to sweat, words catching in his throat, “Unless you want to know about both,” she paused, looking him up and down. She gave curt nod inhaling, “Probably best you know of both of them. Make life easier for you. When you were three months old I left you with Dr. Ruicknar, back in ninety-four. I really wasn’t ready to be a mom and I-,” her voice cracked, taking a moment to right herself, “I wasn’t ready yet to pick you over my bad habits.”

It lined up with the story Chance had known, but it was hard to tell how much of the truth she was telling. She wouldn’t be trying to hold back her emotions like this if she was lying though….?, “What about the second time,” he asked in a whisper.

She sniffed, clearing her throat, nodding her head, “Right, well I didn’t want to leave you, my son.” A pride came to her eyes as she said those words, the smile falling as she looked away, “The second time I was forced to be away from you.” Andi’s eyes glimmered in the light, stray tears escaping them, the pride gone, “You were only three and we were finally starting to connect. Starting to become a family, you and me.”

Ding, Ding! We have a winner ladies and gentlemen, Chance tried his best to mask the shallowness of his breathing, she was right. She was, is, his mom. “So what happened?”

Andi looked out to the field, jaw tight, her breathing long and purposeful before turning back to Chance, “Dr. Ruicknar happened.” He flinched slightly at the venom in her voice, “He decided that I shouldn’t have you,” she rubbed her chest once again, eyes growing darker, “That I shouldn’t be your mother anymore.” That….doesn’t-. It doesn’t feel right, she crossed her arms, “He had no right to do that, just up and moving taking you with him while I was out of the house.”

Chance shook his head, laughing, “No. No. That’s-that’s not what happened.” The world spun a moment Chance standing too quickly from the chair, “Dad-He’d-. No. He was a good man, he’d never do something like that.”

Andi stood, slowly making her way towards him, “He did though,” her face softened, fingers gently pulling his face to meet hers, “Chance, he just wanted you all for himself. Was so desperate to be a father he spun lie after lie.” He wouldn’t, he always saw the best in people, he desperately wanted to cover his ears, tune out her voice, “To the courts, his friends, father, neighbors, everyone. All so he could make sure that I was out of the picture.”

The scar on the back of his neck burned, god he needed another drink, “If he wanted you out of the picture it was for good reason,” It’s all bullshit. Dad wouldn’t have lied, he always went for the truth.

“It’s the truth, Chance,” she looked evenly into his eyes, “Think about the Jessop girl. He planned to take her in, despite the fact that she already had a family.”

“Rachel has nothing to do with this,” Chance growled, stepping back shaking his head, “And even if she did-. No.” He turned away from her, “No, I’m not gonna get wrapped up in your little game or whatever it is you’re doing.” I just need to get out of here, It was stupid to give a woman that abandoned him twice the time of day.

“I’m not playing any games with you, Chance,” she followed after him, “I’m telling you the truth! You deserve to know the kind of man Dr. Ruicknar was.”

“Oh, fuck off! I promise you dad had his reasons,” Andi Greene has no more chances, “He was a good man and you’re lying to me!”

“I’m not,” he jumped inside the truck, as her hand reached into her pocket, “Look!” Andi held up a photo, gripping onto the door, another in her other hand. Chance stopped taking in the weathered photo a thin white line down the center from years of folding and unfolding, the picture showcasing a young woman and small boy. “This is you and me,” her voice cracking, “the day before he took you away from me.” She evened out her breathing as she made sure the photo was always at eye level, “We were happy, Chance. I was only staying with him to get back on my feet so I could give you the life you deserved.”

His hands shook, snatching the photo from her hand, focusing solely on the people within it. The woman looked to be in her early twenties, her smile big as her arms encircled the young boy. His hair looked to be a mess, curls unable to stay in place, he held out a stuffed dinosaur, the one from the museum not too far from the university campus, the smile lopsided but green eyes lit up with excitement. Chance suppressed the urge to rub the back of his neck, the tingling from the scar getting worse. He can’t recall any sort of memory looking at the picture, just that he remembered sleeping with that dinosaur every night, clinging to it becoming upset when he couldn’t sleep with it one night. Chance can recall the vague memories of trying to sleep, waking in a scare, running to his father still up grading tests, and falling asleep at the table in his lap.

“Did he ever talk about me, Chance?” Her words brought a lump to his throat, “Or even your grandfather? Either of them?”

“No,” he ground out, hanging his head.

Andi placed a hand on his shoulder, “Now you see why. They shouldn’t have done what they did, separating us like that.” She handed over the second picture, this one more weathered than the last, the color starting to fade, “But we’re together now. We can make up for the lost time.”

This picture was a baby picture one that he fuzzily recalled seeing once before, I can’t-. I can’t think properly, “This-. You have to know that this is a lot to take in.”

She placed a hand on his cheek, wiping away at the few tears falling without his knowledge or permission, “I know. I know it is, but I’ve missed you, my boy. My son.” Her smile….it's hard for him to find anything insincere about it. Her words….truth, mostly, possibly all of it. She takes a deep breath, “My Chance, I’ve missed you so much.” He doesn’t respond, how can he? It’s all too much at once. Chance turns away from her shaking his head, she swallows, nodding away the tears, “I’ve waited this long for you to return to me and I can wait a little longer for you to get your mind wrapped around this.”

This all had to be a lie, a hallucination like the ones Faith’s put me in, Her warm hands against his skin speak otherwise. There’s a comfort in her touch, one he fears, and if he lets himself feel it, embrace it even a little, he’ll just fall right into that comfort never wanting to leave. Maybe I’m already too far gone, all of this too reminiscent of those first encounters with Faith. He kept thinking it was just the drugs, Just like how it has to be the alcohol now, only to soon realize that it was something real. Those shadows of memories of a life he loved and wanted to go back to, back when things still made sense in the world.

That ache, that never ending ache in his chest seemed to be disappearing now as he stayed letting her hold his hand. Calling him, calling him to seek out that baser comfort of being embraced by one’s caregiver. His chemistry begging, begging, begging for those chemicals tattooed on his hand to be activated within Andi so that he may in turn gain the serotonin lost over the years. That scar burns. Family, some kind of family, some kind of real family. The last of it right here before him.

The story she told, truth to it, yes, something just feeling….off. He rubbed the back of his neck, nails digging into that damn scar, he just needed to tear it off. The familiarity of how she told it….

He needed to go. Too much. Terrible idea. Nothing has been gained from it. Nothing….lies. So many of them still wrapped in some kind of truth. The only other people to bring any kind of perspective on them long gone.

“I’ve-. I gotta go,” Chance mumbled, pictures in hand, throwing the truck into drive, dust kicking up. Home, just go home, he repeated, the clinking of the bottles keeping time. Liar, liar, liar! She had to be lying. He was a good man, that’s what he remembered. He was a good man that didn’t just do things without good reason. Right? No, that was correct, it's his truth, the one he knows, the one he has to believe….it's the one he’s known his whole life.

There’s a blare of a horn, Chance swerving to the other side of the road, slamming the brakes. He looks up to the cars passing by, all of them belong to locals, Chance’s teeth grind, knuckles white on the steering wheel. He needs to get home, needs to clear his head, get back to that state of….

One more stop.

If he’s right about this being a hallucination or his brain playing tricks on him then having some of it won’t do anything to him. It won’t affect him. Hell it probably would help him with making the world, his world, as it should have been. Shouldn’t be too hard to find, just need to go to one of those shrines, they’ll be doing their duty of converting all that they can. Two miles. I’m pretty sure there’s one two miles from here.

He takes a long drink from the vodka, grabbing the handgun from under the passenger seat. The door slams and the two, Wait there’s one in the water, the three peggies look up at him, guns aimed. Come at me, His gun already out, the first shots shaky in their aim but effective to bring the two down, Civilian injured, but just in the arm. The one in the water rushes at him, fumbling for the gun on her back, Lucky me, one shot and a splash. Not even a second look at those he’s just rescued, picking up one of the member’s canteen filling it from the open barrel. Back on the road and home before he knew it….could even process it.

Crate placed on the counter, the bottle from the car halfway filled, Chance pouring in some of the Bliss, the liquid taking on a faint green tint. He gives it a good shake before drinking once more. In a near instant the shaking finally stops, breathing slowed, warmth flooding to his limbs once more. He lets his eyes open, finding the world around him….

clear….

peaceful….

Beautiful.

This is what he needed. This is what was going to help him. He just needed to think and why not just think in a place that was out of reality. “Rest.” He needed that too, Should do that first, he thought as more of the bottle disappeared letting himself fall onto the sofa. Never had it felt softer, more inviting. Singing, distant, clear, words he knew all from her voice. “Where are you,” the whisper echoing in the open expanse of….well where he was. “Faith,” he breathed out, “I need you,” his eyes closed with the feeling of her fingers brushing against his skin. Her voice closer now, lulling him to sleep, “Don’t leave me,” he pleaded.

“We won’t,” she whispered, lips cold as they pressed to his cheek….

“Just rest.”

As quickly as Chance landed in a dreamless sleep the world moved suddenly. Sharply. His head groggy as his eyes struggled to focus, stomach starting to roll. One more drink, he can wake up with another drink. The bottle felt lighter than when he laid down, the sky darker, Didn’t mean to rest that long. A hand stopped the bottle from reaching his lips, his eyes turning slowly to meet her blue-green eyes, a smile spreading on his face. “You’re still here,” he whispered, reaching out for her.

Faith nodded, placing his hand back on the sofa, “I told you I’d come back to check on you.” Her eyes looked to the bottle in his hand solemnly taking it in, her frown only growing, “How are you feeling today?” She swept a hand over his forehead, the curls clinging to the sweat on his brow, “It looks like you spent most of it sleeping.”

He shook his head, “I didn’t sleep,” she didn’t stop him as he moved to take another drink, “I was thinking.”

Faith tilted her head, “Oh? What were you thinking about,” her voice soft, softer than the last time she spoke to him. They fought? Yeah we did. We did and she came back?, “Chance?”

“Hmm, oh,” his eyes focused back on the room around her, “Her.”

Dark blonde eyebrows knitted together as she stared, “Her, who?”

“Mom.”

She flinched, opening her mouth a second before closing it again. She bit her lower lip, thinking for a moment, looking at her hands folded in her lap. “Your….mom,” he nodded, “Why? Are you wanting to find her?”

Chance shook his head, sitting up, “Don’t need too. She found me.” The world spun slightly, taking another drink to steady it.

“She….found you,” Faith moved to sit on the coffee table.

Chance nodded, “Yep. ya’know I’m sure you’ve met her. She’s been with you all for a long time.” He looked around the room, tints of green pressing through the darkness outside his windows, “Wait.” Faith looked up, fingers still holding her chin, “You think she’ll show up here?”

“At your house?” She asked, raising a brow.

“No, in the Bliss. In that big field you showed me,” he walked to the window by the door, “This house has to be there right? She could come and end up finding me again.”

“That’s-.” She shook her head, moving to stand next to him, “There’s no possibility of that happening,” Faith assured, her hand gently touching his shoulder.

“Your hands,” he placed a hand over hers, “Your touch,” Chance rubbed circles on the top of her wrist, “it’s so warm.” He stared down at it a moment more before he dropped it, walking to the canteen on the counter, testing the weight, “I didn’t take too much did I?”

Faith took the container from him, setting it back down, “No, you didn’t Chance.”

“Then why do you feel so warm? So….,” his fingertips ran down her cheek, neck, and collar bone, the lace scratchy against them, “Real.”

Her eyes searched his face, brow knitting together, “Because I am, Chance. You didn’t take enough to last more than a few hours.”

He frowned looking at the ground shifting, “Is that why my chest is starting to feel empty again?” Chance rubbed his chest, feeling the raised letters beneath his shirt, looking at Faith through his lashes.

The frown she wore, eyes sympathetic, answered enough for him. “You said you met your mom,” she started, “Is that why you-?”

“Started drinking again,” he finished, scoffing, shaking his head, “No. It all happened just a few hours ago.”

Her eyes widened, “And how did it go?”

“Why are you asking so many questions?” The ache, the edges of the hole he could never close started to burn. That damn scar, all of them, but mostly the one on his neck and spread across his chest itched and burned.

“I-,” her eyes flicked to the hands at his side, one gripping the glass bottle the other balled into a fist, both sporting white knuckles. “I- Well I was just making conversation,” she smiled, her voice lighter, teasing with laughter, “Seems like we never just talk anymore, my White Knight.”

He blinked, locking his gaze with hers for a moment. He gave a quick shrug, “Huh. Guess you’re right.” Chance took another sip, rocking back on his heels, words starting to slur, “Never had much to talk about after a while.”

“Oh,” her smile fell for a fraction of a second, shaking her body out, “Well, there’s been some new developments it seems.” Easy, always easy to talk to, Chance’s smile returns, I can tell her anything.

“Sure,” he finished off the last of the bottle, Faith’s soft smile ever present as she watched him move, eyes turning sad. He grabbed another bottle, opening it quickly, “But she could be….well hmm I don’t think she’s really my mom.” He strode past her reaching for the photos on the coffee table, feet starting to tangle, “I know I’ve seen this one before somewhere,” he held up the baby picture, Faith tilting her head taking it from him. “I just can’t seem to place it yet. There’s just too,” he waved a hand over his head, “Just too much going on in my mind to find it.”

She flips the photo over, “I see,” squinting her eyes, fuzzy memories she can’t quite reach, play out. A simple handmade shelter in the woods and a manila folder.

Chance holds up the second one, “This one I’ve never seen before,” Faith’s eyes take it in, glancing between his eyes and the one on the small boy’s. It’s him, she’d know his eyes anywhere now. He taps it, “That dino toy though,” he laughs to himself, “I had one just like it.”

Another drink down, Faith starts walking around him, fingertips running along his shoulders, “So who do you think she is?” God, how did she manage to make her voice sound like a song. She takes the second photo placing them on the table once more.

“A trick,” he shrugs, “Maybe I just got stuck in the Bliss and there’s no coming out of it for me.”

She smirks, “Or?”

“Or some trick of your brothers’,” he laughs with a snort, “Probably Sunglasses, wants to get me to join you all.” She tilts her head, “Joseph said it wasn’t too late for me.”

“Are you really considering the offer,” her smile grows, “After all this time? All this protest and resistance, you’d really join the faith?” His eyes follow every movement of hers, contemplating if he should ask for more from her. Her whispered words in his ear brings him back, “Join us in creating a New Eden?”

“I-,” he stops, the questions sinking in. He didn’t believe, would never believe in some higher power, especially one coming from Joseph. That wasn’t the only reason why people joined religions, or why one would stay…., “No. No, I’m not considering it, just trying to think like you do.”

She hums, “You hesitated,” Faith says as she sits on the back of the sofa, ankles crossed, “Normally you never hesitate.”

“This isn’t some therapy session, Faith,” he snaps rolling his eyes, another swig of the bottle following, “No need to look that deep into it.” That woman’s wrong, she’s wrong. Just lying, just a trick.

“Then what would you rather do?” Faith smirks, the concern growing in her eyes, “Anything you want.”

He moves closer grabbing her hand, still warm, chest starting to feel hollow while the rest of him feels some kind of electricity. Why did they ever start this? Why did he ever start to let himself fall for someone that could also be a dream at any given moment? There was never a real good way to tell the difference anymore, was there? How many times did he find himself here with her like this?

He set the bottle down letting his now free hand run along her jawline and neck slowly, pausing where he could feel her pulse the best. He lets go of her hand placing it on her waist, feeling as her heartbeat increases.

“Real or not real,” he whispers, Please say-.

She takes hold of the hand resting along her collarbone bringing it to her cheek. smiling, “Real.” His breath catches, the pleas he had for her once it looked like neither were going to come back to the other, held back. She frowns, pushing some of his hair back, “Do you feel unreal, Chance? Or like none of this is real?”

He cast his eyes down, Can’t ever hide my thoughts from you, “I wonder sometimes,” the hand on her waist running farther along the curve of her, “Maybe this place is just some kind of afterlife.” He sighs, eyes slow to meet hers once again, “I just couldn’t take it anymore one day. Or they finally got me,” he’s spinning, falling, the longer he stares into her eyes, “But I just-Faith I don’t feel like myself anymore. I never do-.”

“Until that bottle is gone,” she finishes softly, Chance giving a small nod, shutting back the tears threatening to fall and close his throat. “Chance,” he opened his eyes to her sympathetic face, “What would happen if you felt like yourself again? Even just for a little bit.”

“Could think through everything,” he whispers, “The whole world….I can make sense of it all.”

“You think you’d have the answers you need,” she guided him closer to her, “The ones you want.” Chance nodded, resting his forehead against hers. If she was real then he needed to have this moment with her. Just needed to have her, the real her, the one that didn’t get angry when he’d refer to her as Rachel every now and again. Faith nodded, “Then how can I-?”

“Touch me,” his response was fast, Faith blinking in surprise. He took a deep breath, the smell of her flowers with undertones of fresh rain giving him comfort. This had to be the real her, had to be, “Just-. I need to feel….,” Real, alive, close, comfort, you, “Feel something other than….”

His words trailed off, Faith giving him a moment before finishing his thought, “Other than the confusion and pain?” He stayed silent, she nodded in understanding, “Is this what you need to help you,” her fingers started to play with the edge of his jeans, the bare skin she touched warming beneath it, She missed me too, didn’t she?

He tilted her chin to take in her face, “It would be a start I think.” There just above her eyebrow, the faint scar from those early days of the reaping, Been awhile since I’ve seen that on her, “But only if you’re really here, really you.”

She frowned, eyes misting, “Of course it's me, Chance,” she pleaded, “I told you last night that I’d come back to check on you.”

He brushed a thumb over the scar, “Tell me how you got this then.”

She tilted her head, cocking a brow, before exhaling slowly, “I got it because you,” she poked his chest, “got a grenade thrown at me.” She gave a small smile at the memory passing through the two of them, “I still don’t forgive you for threatening to cut my hair that day.”

Chance couldn’t help but chuckle, “I was really looking forward to adding Hairstylist next to sacrificial lamb on my resume.” She laughed, the melody one he could never forget, Real. This is real, “Besides I saved your life that day.”

“Again, only after you put me in danger in the first place.” Her fingers traced along the muscle and bone of his hips, “It was also when you pointed out the obvious point I had been ignoring.” His mind wadded through the memories, the feelings vague, muted by the liquor taking hold of him, “I tried, well try, to ignore the fact that I’m so easily replaceable.”

“Oh,” he looks to his feet, “I’m still sorry. It was a low blow.”

Faith shook her head, “You were right though.” Her eyes grew distant, hands stopping along his hips, ��I used to think she was meant to replace me, you know.”

It took a moment for the name to come up, or well the name Faith knew her by, “Mary? Your sister?”

She nodded, eyes cast down, “Some days I wish I could have been more genuine in my kindness rather than keeping her close to keep her from replacing me. Or at least had more time to be genuine,” her voice cracks, “She always was to me.”

Chance ran his thumb along her cheek catching the few falling tears, “It weighs on you,” he started softly, “Those feelings of not being able to say goodbye, to make sure that the person knows how you feel about them,” Even if they are still alive.

She pulled him closer, face pressed into his chest, “You won’t just leave without letting me have a goodbye, right?”

I can try, his eyes glanced down to the bottle at his feet, I want a little more. Need a little more. “Not if I can help it. Even if,” he looked up at the ceiling, letting out a sigh, “Can’t believe I’m saying this, but even if ghosts and the afterlife turn out to be real, I’ll make sure you can have a nice goodbye.”

Her eyes widened at the admission, “Must really care about me to make that kind of promise.”

Chance looked back into her eyes, mind slipping into the blue of them easily, pushing some of her hair back, “I-. Rach-.” He took a breath to steady himself, her grip on him making it harder to grab for the bottle, “Faith I love you.”

Faith doesn’t say anything, eyes searching his face, his heart falling with each beat of his heart. Say something….anything. Say it back, the lump forming in his throat.

This was a mistake. He shakes his head, “Look jus-just forget it. Forget I said anything.” He turned away, cheeks starting to burn, stomach turning as he grabbed the bottle stepping away from her.

She grabs onto his hand, “Chance wait.” She jumped down walking closer to him, arms wrapping around him, kissing his cheek, “I know you do.”

“Do you just not feel the same?” His whispered voice hesitating with each syllable, “That why you won’t say it back?”

“Chance,” Faith closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, “I’d rather hear those words come from a sober mouth,” she laced her fingers with his, “You’re not the only one that has trouble distinguishing dreams from reality.”

He looked over his shoulder, the windows still grasping onto that green fog, “What do we do then, if neither of us can trust in what we see and hear? If we feel we can’t even trust the validity of our feelings?”

“Exist.”

“In this moment,” she smiled, taking the bottle from him, “We meet in the middle.” She took a long drink, nose wrinkling from the burn, “Or well I meet you there, and then we just exist in the other’s presence.”

He blinked, eyes wide, “You’d stay the whole night?”

She smiled, giving a small nod, “Just like I used too.”

“The nights where we just laid in bed-.”

“And talked, with my skin pressed to yours-.”

“Until the whole world was just you and me-.”

“The orange of the sun dispelling the barriers we’d set up-.”

“Our call to return to a world where-.”

“Neither of us really belong anymore.”

She brushed some of his hair back, unable to break free of his green eyes, his hands resting on her hips, breathing even once again. He was the first to move, guiding them to the bedroom, pulling the zipper of her dress down once in the doorway of his room. Faith let it fall, pulling his shirt over his head. Chance quick in removing the rest of his clothing as she followed his lead, sliding under the covers with ease.

Maybe it was the time they had spent apart or the feeling of being unreal that changed their thought process. They were only meant to lie there feeling the other close to them, not having their lips crash together, hands tangling in each other’s hair, and their hearts starting to race. He pulled her leg around him making sure it was secured around his hip before moving his lips down her jaw and neck. She let out a small gasp as he started to kiss across her chest.

Her fingers grasp at his hair, pulling his lips back to hers as he lays her on her back. She rolls her hips to meet his gaining whatever friction she can, Chance moaning into their kiss, hands gliding down her body. Fingertips trace the scarred sin before running up her body once again, pulling one of her arms away from him, lacing their fingers together, holding it down on the bed. She gives the lightest of pushes on his shoulders, Chance following her thoughts kissing down her body once more.

His lips and tongue trace every outline of her, her breathy moans filling the room. The heat radiating off of her only grows the closer he gets to her core. She doesn’t force him back up, doesn’t stop him from starting his act of worship between her thighs. She lets him watch as her back arches, the way her chest moves as her breathing deepens, listening to his name leave her lips as her fingers tangle farther in his curls. This. This is real. This is the woman he’d been letting himself fall for. Not the one who’s been coming to visit almost every night with her song that commands his actions.

There’s little time to recover when she pulls him back to her lips, the taste of her still lingering. He’s starting to strain, desperate to be connected to her when she pulls away, foreheads still resting against each other. There’s a moment where both catch their breath, Faith whispering, “I want you….,” her fingers running down the nape of his neck.

“I need you,” they say together.

“All of you,” he continues, “Every part of you.” His eyes travel down her body, every scar, curve, flaw traced and memorized, “For as long as I can have you.”

She traces a fire along his chest, letting out a ragged breath rolling her hips, “Let’s start with now,” she whispers, their bodies interlocking with ease. Easy, right, perfectly made for the other. How it all seems so obvious as their hearts beat in perfect rhythm, the slow and purposeful movements eliciting a duet of moans, sighs, and gasps. It's no longer a rage of fire and heat, not like it ever was, it’s slow and calming, always there.

Equal as Faith easily takes the lead, pushing him onto his back, Chance moaning out her name. His head falls back with a low groan as she starts to move her hips in a circle, nails gripping onto his chest. His hands fall and rise with the curves and dips of her torso, hips bucking to meet her movements. She increases the pace of their movements, Chance gripping onto her hips, both on the precipice of ecstasy, time slowing down around them.

Then all at once the pleasure hits them, engulfs them, their lips crashing together as they ride it out. The high lasting longer than it had before made the two of them work to catch their breaths. They smile, Chance giving a small chuckle giving one more soft kiss every little detail and sensation heightened and solid. They were both here, they both existed at this moment.

They were both alive.

It took a moment for the two to fall into place on the bed, silent as they adapted once more to just feeling the other’s warmth once again. Faith’s fingers traced the scars littering his body, mind searching for something to start with. “You know, I got a glare from John after that day, you know.”

“What day?” He asked, noticing how she shivered feeling the way Chance’s fingers traced patterns lightly on her skin.

Faith laughed quietly, “The day you first brought me here.”

“Ah,” he kissed the top of her head, “Why did Fashion Week glare at you?”

Faith smirked, pulling him closer, “I couldn’t stop thinking about how you called him Karen.” He gave a snort holding back his laughter, “I’m serious. The way you said it,” she gave a small shake of her head rolling her eyes, “There was just something funny about it and it kept playing out in my mind during our meeting. He said something that I think was vaguely insulting and the name slipped out when I tried to call him out on it.”

Chance laughed, burying his face in her hair, “Of course he would have to act like a Karen after I graced him with that name.” He looked up to the ceiling, hand moving over the curve of her hip, “I would have loved to see his face as you said it.”

“Maybe someday you’ll be able to,” she looked up, resting her chin on his chest, “once all of this-,” the smile she had starting to fade.

Chance nodded slowly, moving on his side their faces close, “Once all of this is over,” If it ever will be. His lips brushed against hers briefly before placing a light kiss on them, “My day to see Gossip Gabby really appreciate my humor will come. Even if I have to make it so.”

She giggled, “Do you have these nicknames written down so you can just pick from a list?”

Chance placed a hand on her cheek, bringing her lips to his in a deep kiss, forehead pressed to Faith’s when he pulled away. “You’ll never know, Princess.”

#a chance for faith #x: emo flower child #faith seed #faithxoc #chance ruicknar oc #mildly nsft #just in case #but yeah I'm done looking at this I can't anymore #its been months on this piece sorry

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anjuschiffer · 3 years

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Amira Wayne - Chapter 17

Another chapter! Woo! And yes, I’m still going on with @biodad-bruce-month event despite being two months since it ended :D

Chapter 17: Villain (2)

WARNING: BLOOD MENTION AND DEATH IN THIS CHAPTER

P.Tag: @theatreandcomicfreak @damianette-is-life @toodaloo-kangaroo @elijahcrevan @vixen-uchiha @nathleigh

Tag: @we-want-mini-mini @ramos123 @bluesimani @redscarlet95 @greatcatblaze @promiswords @fantasiame @corabeth11 @anonymously-odd @alexandriamw @officiallydarkgeek @galla02006 @maleive07

MASTERLIST | FIRST | PREV | AO3

Something wasn’t right and no, it didn’t take Wally having to see fog outside Amira’s bedroom to know that.

He had been on the phone with Dick, telling him of Amira’s stress baking when the chilly afternoon became a dark, foggy evening.

Rolls of mist covered the Parisian roads, people yelling out to each other as they stumbled to find each other.

“Dick. I have to call you back.” Wally said as he scrambled around the room in search of his suitcase.

To think he would need Barry’s gift so soon.

“Back? Wally what is-“ Wally hung up when he found the comms, his eyes darting around the room until he found a box tucked under the desk labeled ‘utilities.’

Rummaging around it, he grabbed some flashlights, batteries and some goggles before heading into the Parisian street.

He thought the fog was bad from behind the window, but now standing in...it was a nightmare.

Amira, please...be safe...

Fishing for his phone, Wally quickly scrolled through his contacts until he found Amira’s and began to call it.

The longer the call rang, the more Wally began to worry.

When his call didn’t get through, he tried again, turning on the goggles, taken aback at how high tech they were.

The perks of being rich he guessed.

When he noticed that the night vision wouldn’t work in this situation, Wally switched over to thermal, running into the school across the street and up the stairs.

“Marinette!” Wally yelled, holding back the urge to yell out her real name. But he knew better than that.

He knew better than to yell out Amira’s real identity.

“Marinette! Where are you?” Wally yelled out again, looking to see if anyone reacted to the name. That’s when he noticed a heat carefully walked towards the doorway of a classroom on the second floor.

“Hello?” A Parisian asked him, Wally biting his tongue. Damn it!

“Listen, do you speak English?”

“A little.” The person said back.

“That’s fine. Do you know where Marinette is? Do you know what happened to-”

“She was akumatized!” The person bellowed back, Wally feeling his heart stop.

Amira...Amira is the akuma? She...she got akumatized...by Hawkmoth?

How? This wasn’t part of the plan she told him last night!

Snapping from his spiraling thoughts, Wally cupped his hands around his mouth.

“What caused it?” Wally asked, wondering what the hell happened to Amira that caused her to lose control of her emotions.

What caused her to snap?

“She had a little argument over a boy with her classmate. About a boy named...Jason.”

Holy shit.

“No, no, no, no.” Wally muttered to himself, digging his hands into his hair, hating the answer to his questions.

“Are you-” The person asked, Wally seeing them almost hit with the balcony in front of them.

“Stop! Don’t leave the classroom! Stay in there and wait for La-Chat Noir and the team to arrive.” Wally managed to say, his brain running through every possible situation to help him cope with the idea that Amira was somewhere out there, distorted by her emotions…

Alone..dealing with emotions she never liked lingering in for too long...walking with her baggage of pain...and guilt…

Wait...the person said she was arguing with someone who knew Jason...but how was that possible?

“-can do for you?” Wally managed to register, running up the stairs and walked into the classroom, shutting the door behind him.

“I need you to tell me what exactly happened before Marinette got akumatized and don’t you dare try to cover up any details. If you do…” Wally closed his eyes and took a deep breath, hoping he wouldn’t jinx the situation. “This akuma may become your livelihood for a very long time and not only that...this maybe be the Miraculous Team’s last fight and be Hawkmoth’s victory.”

---

Adrien held Chloe close as she continued to grip at his shirt, her body shaking violently as she muttered incoherent words. Tears ruined her makeup, her eyes bloodshot red as Chloe remained curled against Adrien’s shirt.

“Adrikins...you’re still there...right?”

“I’m still here.” Adrien assured, hugging Chloe closer to him.

“Maman and Daddy… I saw them die before my eyes. And I saw Sabrina and Mari...they..they also-”

“You don’t have to tell me.” Adrien hushed, turning to where Plagg was despite not being able to see anything but his glowing green eyes.

After Mari-Banshee caused Chloe to collapse and then disappeared from his sight, Adrien ordered Nino and Sabrina to head back to the class while he took care of Chloe.

Carefully dragging her to the locker room, Adrien began to softly talk to her, holding her hands as he tried to think of a way to lessen the effect of Banshee’s power on Chloe so that he could-

“-help her.” Cloe muttered out, Adrien feeling her hesitantly push herself away from him. “Go help her, Adrien.”

“Chloe, you aren’t-”

“But she needs more help than me Adrien.” Chloe echoed. “I know this will go away once the akuma is found, but right now...we need to do something about the akuma. Who knows how long Ladybird will get here and get rid of the akuma, but we’re here. You’re here.”

Adrien felt as Chloe untangled her hand from his. “I can’t do anything, but you can. You can help de escalate the situation and you even know who she is after. So please...help her Adrien...she’s our friend...who knows how long she can endure it…”

Adrien bit his lip, feeling Plagg settle back into Adrien’s pocket inside his jacket.

“I’ll try Chloe. I’ll try.”

Giving Chloe’s hand a squeeze, Adrien slowly makes his way back to where he last saw Marinette, holding back a scream that nestled in his throat.

“Kid. We need to hurry.” Plagg reminded him. “Because Chloe was right. We don’t know how long it will take Ladybird to find Marinette so we need all hands on-”

“I know Plagg.” Adrien cut off, digging his nails into his palms. “Plagg, claws out!”

---

Dick paced around his apartment, putting his phone to his ear as he attempted to call both Wally and Amira, only to get sent to voicemail.

Huffing, Dick was about to call again when Tim called first.

“Tim, can this-“

“This is urgent.”

“Tim, I’m trying to-“

“Something wrong is happening in Paris right now. Just open the link I sent you right now.”

With Tim hanging up, Dick got a message and opened it, watching a Parisian news station play on his screen.

“Nadja Chamack. Don’t bemused, it’s just the news. As you can see, it’s currently XX:XX and yet-“ Then the camera pans to show the conditions outside. “Our once sunny December day became a foggy night, our reporters are trying to- what? An akuma?”

The station then transitioned into a live feed of what seemed to be a figure walking within the fog.

“This just in! Turns out that this is the result of Hawkmoths most recent akuma! So everyone who is watching, under no circumstance, do not leave the premises you are-“

Nadja went on to talk about akuma protocol when Dick notices something oddly familiar about the figure that walked within the live video.

That bracelet on her hand…

Dick felt his heart sink to his stomach.

Grabbing some keys and his bike, Dick began making phone calls again, hating that no one was picking up...

Or so he thought.

“Selina? Yes... I need a favor.”

—-

Wally slammed his fist against the teacher’s desk, hearing a few gasps escape from the students in the class.

Damn that Lila. Can’t even face the consequences of her own actions.

“Did you idiots seriously not think something was wrong when someone you knew was acting unusual? Even if they weren’t your friend, when someone isn’t acting like themselves, that means you should be concerned.” Silence filled the room. Wally recomposed himself.

This was no time to lecture these idiots. Right now I have to track down both Marinette and Lila Rossi. “Does anyone know where Lila would have run off to?”

When he got nothing but silence for an answer, Wally held his composure. “Okay so no one actually knows this girl. Fine. I’ll look for her my-“

“Shouldn’t you leave this to Ladybird and her team?” The teacher spoke, Wally really wondering how dependent Parisians have become on their ‘heroes’ taking action first.

“My best friend has been akumatized and we haven’t heard a single update about the situation from the Parisian vigilantes. My thoughts? The Miraculous Team is having trouble finding either person and if I can at least help to locate Marinette, then so be it.

I’m not going to stand here and just depend on the vigilantes when I know I can actually do something to help.”

Walking towards the door, he stopped. “I suggest you guys find a way to deal with the mist inside this classroom. Perhaps turn the ventilation system on or something. You rather be able to see each other can keep each other company rather than not knowing what’s going on in the very room you think you’re safe in.”

With that, Wally dashed out the room, not noticing two other people walk behind him.

—-

Lila stumbled as she ran away from the thing that was supposed to be Marinette.

That creature dressed in an ombre dress that transitioned from white to black and whose eyes haunted her was no Marinette!

That was a creature straight from tales she used to hear from the nanny that took care of long ago.

A banshee.

Lila held in a whimper as tears filled her eyes as she heard the akumatized Marinette’s hums, hums that fluctuated between her name being shrieked and soft wails.

“Lila.” She would whisper in a hoarse voice, causing Lila to run even more. “Where are you?”

Lila turned a corner and scrambled to hide behind a dumpster, collapsing her hands over her mouth as she heard Marinette slowly make her way towards her.

Lila shut her eyes tight as she heard the hum grow louder, Lila hating that the hum kept getting louder by the second.

The hum was now right at the corner Lila had finished turning when it came to a halt.

With the foggy streets and the humming coming to a stop, Lila could hear her footsteps nice and clear, listening as her heels clicked and clacked as Marinette walked on the cobblestone street.

Lila didn’t dare to move, she didn’t dare breath as she kept hearing those dreading footsteps. She did, however, wish she had another set of hands as a piercing shriek, in the form of her name, rang throughout the Parisian streets.

Lila didn’t know what happened next as the shriek caused her ears and head ring, her vision becoming muddled as Lila attempted to open her eyes.

She wishes she had not.

As she fluttered her eyes open, bloodshot red eyes looked back at her, a thin smile directed at her.

“Here you are.” Marinette sang in her raspy voice.

Lila felt herself begin to violently shake as Marinette helped her get up by grabbing her wrists. “You know, you didn’t have to make up all those lies to get the class to like you. They just love to throw themselves to anyone if it meant gaining a new friend. They’re just so open hearted like that.

Of course, those types of people are the type whom I’m not fond of, so I steered away from them.

Sadly, you thought lying to them was the best course of action instead of checking to see if you had to lie or not to get their adoration. I could only assume you thought this was the best course of action as it's been your main way of getting attention.

Sadly, you have to pay for your actions this time ‘round.

Didn’t your mother teach you that every action has a consequence?”

Lila watched as Marinette let go of her hands.

“While they might forgive you for lying to them, I will not. You disparage my brother’s name and for that, you shall pay, Lila Rossi.”

She grabbed hold of Lila’s hand, Lila letting out a deathly scream as her hand went ablaze, watching as Marinette’s veil turned pitch black in color.

“Pay for your lies, for your manipulations and schemes.”

Lila felt her other hand go ablaze and soon her heart began to burn, screaming her lungs out as she watched her get swallowed by the ground.

She screamed and cried as she clawed to bring herself back up to the surface, only to feel cold hands pull her down.

“This is your punishment, Lila Rossi. Suffer like I have at the loss of my dear brother.”

The last thing Lila saw before being pulled underground was Marinette’s veil and dress turn pitch black, a vivid black she had never seen before.

Black just like the void that swallowed her, a black that was the only thing Lila could see for miles around her.

She didn’t know for how long she kept screaming, how long she was crying but she knew for quite some time as her throat grew dry. It became itchy, her eyes stinging and she started to grow cold.

She began to walk through the darkness, not daring to stretch out her arms in fear that she may attack her once again.

That’s when she saw him.

Standing there, in the darkness, was a man with olive green eyes and chestnut hair staring back at her.

A man she knew...

“Papà?” She said hoarsely.

She watched as the man looked at her with a smile, opening up his arms, welcoming her.

With a warbling smile, Lila ran to her father, only for him to disintegrate upon her touch.

“Papà!” Lila screeches, running after the dust. Why? Why?!

“Lila.” She heard her mother say monotonously, causing Lila to promptly shut up and stop pathetically trying to get her father back.

She slowly turned to her side, having to look up to see her mother’s pale face.

Was she always this tall?

Looking at herself, Lila realized she was holding her mother's hand and standing before her father’s grave.

She was 9 again.

9...“You can’t keep crying mia stella. We have to keep moving, no matter what. It’s what he would have wanted us to do.”

“Yes, Mamma.” Lila complied, watching as the two walked from the grave, watching how the grave quickly got invaded by thorn covered vines with each step she took. “Bye, Papà.”

“Bastarda! Bastarda!” The boys chanted as they circled her, Lila covering her ears, shutting her eyes as she crouched towards the floor.

“Smettila! [Quit it!]” Lila yelled, holding in tears as she heard the girls in her class whisper and snicker about her.

It wasn’t her fault that her mother couldn’t afford the latest clothing, the latest car or anything new for that matter.

If only her mother were more than just a secretary. If only her mother were someone important.

How she hated that they were able to see through her lies.

She could hear the laughter ringing around her, the chants of her being a bastard and bugiarda [poor] echoing in her mind.

She watched as smeared faces of her past circled around her, laughing at her and began to sing.

“Delilah! Delilah! Delilah the liar!”

“Shut up!” Lila screamed, but it went ignored.

The faces continued to sing and ridicule her, Lila screaming until she couldn’t anymore.

---

Chat looked out to the city below him, clicking his tongue when he wasn’t able to see anything below despite being at the very top of the Eiffel Tower.

Taking out his staff, Chat called Queen Bee, only to be sent directly to voicemail. He tried again, this time using their other mode of communication.

When he heard a click, Chat was about to talk when Bee beat him to it.

“I’m down Chat.’

“What?”

“I was in the area when the akuma struck. I tried to apprehend the Victim, but she got to me first. I don’t think I can...I don’t think I can fight in my condition Chat.”

Chat huffed, picking up a shriek in the distance. Narrowing his eyes, Chat started to sprint to the direction of which the shriek came from.

“Have you heard anything from Ladybird?” Chat asked, almost crashing into someone when he got to the ground. “I tried calling her, but-”

“I didn't get anything from her…” Chat heard a shuddering of breath from the other side. “Do you think...do you think the Victim got to her?”

“Let’s hope she didn’t.” Chat said, realizing where he was. Extending his staff, he went straight to their usual training grounds, glad to be up high again. “After all, she’s the only one who can reverse all of this.

Without her, we’re screwed.”

“I know Chat...I know. But what are you going to do without me? Without her? You need allies now more than ever Chat! Without them, who knows how long it will take to defeat this Victim!”

“I’ll find a way Bee, don’t you worry. For now, rest up. We’ll win this fight, you’ll see. We won’t let Hawkmoth win, not on our watch.”

With that, Chat hung up and mumbled a ‘claws in.’

“Did we-hey! Isn’t the reason why I give you my power to-”

“Plagg, you mentioned a Master Fu before.” Adrien cut off, handing some camembert towards Plagg. “You need to take me to him. I need to-”

“I know.” Plagg said, swallowing the cheese whole. “Something tells me you might need his help for this fight.”

“Thank you, Plagg.” Adrien said, eyeing a bag of utilities nearby. He rummaged through it before finding what he needed.

Plagg eyed the grappling hook in Adrien’s hands, wondering if he should tell him or not.

Should he? Should he tell him that Ladybird wasn’t going to come? That she was the Victim this time ‘round?

“Alright then, follow me!” Plagg said with a smile.

No, he shouldn’t tell him. Who knows what might happen if the kid would be at risk of also getting akumatized and that he couldn’t risk.

Not his kitten...not on his watch.

---

Black.

That is what Amira first saw when she barely came to her senses.

Amira felt herself walking, watching as something else took over her body.

Is this what every Victim felt like when they got akumatized by Hawkmoth?

Amira tried to move her arms, or attempted to stop herself from walking, but to no avail.

She kept walking to who knows where, hearing herself hum as she did, humming as she was looking for someone…but who?

The humming continued, Amira wondering why it resonated so much with her.

Amira listened to the hum, closing her eyes and soaking in the melodies as the hum continued,

---

Wally stood still as he barely made out the figures of the neatly aligned parked cars on either side of the road. Not a single person was in the street, not a single piece of paper dared to flutter within the dense fog.

Only the dim lights of the streetlights and of a few store lights allowed Wally to know where he was.

“Marinette!” He screamed, holding his breath as he strained his ears for any type of noise. When he heard nothing, he walked a few meters before standing still again and calling out for Marinette.

He kept doing his for what seemed an hour until Wally found himself right by the Seine.

The moment he stepped onto the Pont des Arts, he heard the faintest of hums, Wally feeling the edge of his lips begin to turn upward.

“Marinette!” He yelled out, but got nothing in return.

Sprinting to the other side of the bridge, Wally was glad to hear the humming grow louder, but hated that he had yet to see Amira.

“His chirps brightened my days

Talks that would last for hours

My jay, my jay.”

“Amira!” Wally yelled, his head swinging from side to side in hopes of seeing her, but nothing.

The quiet Parisian street taunted him, the rolling fog egging him to follow the only clue he had of tracking Amira.

“One day after you left

For you I did wait

Another gentle night like no other.”

Wally quickly began to follow the song, hating that no type of heat was registering through the goggles.

“I awaited for your arrival

But a visit I did not get

As I approached the window

I saw you there...

There you were.”

Wally felt like he was running towards nowhere, seeing as he had been running in the same direction for a while.

“On the ground

Your blue feathers now dyed red

Your flight towards me

Was a flight towards another place.”

Just where the hell was he?!

“Goodbye my Jay...goodbye.”

As those last words were said, the fog started to lift up a bit, Wally turning to see Amira staring back at him through her black veil.

Her eyes were a dull emerald, her hair long and straight just like it was when they were younger. She wore a black lace dress that seemed to sparkle under the dim Parisian streetlights.

“Wally. You’re alright.” Amira said, walking up to him, stroking his cheek with the back of her hand. He felt his breath hitch. “Are you hurt anywhere?”

I’m more worried about you.

“I’m fine.” Wally tried to hold her hand when she pulled it away.

“That’s good.” Her hand returning to her side, averting her gaze from him and biting her lip. “What about Chloe? Is she doing alright? I didn’t mean to hurt her like that.”

Wally gulped. She had used her power on Chloe?

Were those tear trails running down her face?

“She’s doing alright. She’s still under your power, but she isn’t as in much pain as she was before.” Wally lied, holding her wrists in his hands, ignoring the pain her got from placing pressure over her bracelet.

So it’s her hands he has to be wary of…more specifically, her palms.

“What about the rest of my team? Do they know where I am?” Amira asked him, Wally biting the side of his cheek.

“I think one of them might know where you are. As for the rest, I do not know.”

“I see.” Amira said, looking back at Wally, turning away from him.

“Where are you going?” Wally asked her, watching as her veil flared out a bit. He watched as a grin emerged from her once stoic face.

“I’m going to go check on Lila. You should’ve seen the look on her face as she succumbed to my punishment.”

“Amira, what have you done?” Wally almost growled out, noticing the small rips on her dress, how it seemed to merge with the shadows.

“She got the punishment she deserved. Right about now, she should be screeching her heart out.”

“How...how could you do something like that Amira?” Wally yelled, tightening his grasp on her wrists. “Vengeance isn’t the way to-”

“This was the only way to make her pay for trying to use Jason’s name for her own personal gain! Every action has a consequence, whether it be a good one or a bad one.”

“Amira, can’t you see-”

“If you are here to stop me, then don’t. I already made up my mind.” Amira tried to jerk her hands from Wally’s grasp, but couldn’t. He wouldn’t let her escape, not when she was right in front of him.

“Amira, please! Think-”

“I have. And this,” she lifted her arm ever so slightly, the corners of her mouth curving upwards as her palms hovered over Wally’s wrists. “This is my answer.”

WARNING: BLOOD AND DEATH AHEAD

Placing her palms on Wally, Wally screamed in agony as he collapsed to the floor, his hands grasping on his shirt, his knuckles turning white as his head and chest began to ring in pain.

Wally watched as his vision flickered between seeing Amira walking away from him in her black dress and her yelling out his name as she was being pulled away from him.

Wally watches as she tries to crawl back at him, as she claws at the ground as she’s being pulled away by purple miasma.

Her nails are scratched, her skin peeling off her fingers as she tries to hold onto loose cobblestones on the ground.

She screams for him, her tears merging with the blood that trailed from her head, mixing with the dirt on her face.

Cuts, both new and old were scattered, dried blood seeping from her mouth.

She manages to get up before she’s thrown back to the floor, a scream escaping from her.

“Amira!” Wally yells, trying to reach for her as he feels tears slip from his eyes. He watches as Amira stares at him one last time before her head limps forward, her hair draping over her face.

Wally feels himself stop breathing, raising his head as he sees Joker above her.

Why? Why were they back at Gotham?

His eyes register the crowbar in his hand, covered in blood...Amira’s blood...

Blood that dripped from the same hands that killed his friend, the same feral clown that looked down at him with his feral smile and crooked yellow teeth.

Wally let out a scream as he watched Joker walk away, leaving Amira’s corpse on the floor.

Managing to find the strength to get up, Wally ran next to Amira’s limp body, only for it to turn into mist upon lifting it.

Wally watched as the illusion merged with the mist around him, the mist slipping through his fingers as he watched his surroundings return him to the present...to Paris..

“Illusions…” Wally said, finding himself laughing as he ran one hand through his hair while the other pulled at it, feeling himself still shaking...

This is exactly why he wasn’t very fond of magic...

END

---

Nino jumped when he felt a hand on him, feeling his racing heart relax upon seeing Master Fu.

After having left the classroom when the mystery guy had run out, Nino tried to look for Ladybird, hoping to once again help his friend. But he had been running for hours, not seeing a single person at all as he searched for the Miraculous Team or Banshee.

“Master Fu, what are you-”

“You know clearly why I am here.” Fu said, slipping off the Turtle from his hand, Nino stretching out his hand towards him. “Ladybird and Queen Bee are down for this match, leaving Chat on his own.”

Nino couldn’t believe that. Chat...was on his own? Ladybird and Queen Bee...were out of commission? How?

Placing the bracelet into Nino’s hand, Master Fu closed it and looked at Nino. “Now go.”

“But Master Fu! How are-”

“The two of you are not alone.” Master Fu clarified. “Gris is to join you alongside a new ally. With you four, you must do what it takes to defeat this akuma. If not,” Master Fu lowered his gaze. “Hawkmoth might just get his hands on several miraculous tonight.”

Nino gulped, feeling unspeakable pressure pushing down on him.

Looking down at the bracelet, Nino furrowed his brows, slipping it on. Wayzz appeared before him, smiling at him.

“Don’t worry Master Fu. I will do what it takes to protect my team, the miraculous and the people of Paris! I will not let Hawkmoth win! Wayzz, shell on!”

---

Chat’s ears twitched when he heard a thud from behind him, turning to see Carapace walking towards him.

“About time you came.” Chat said, greeting Carapace. Gris waved at the turtle hero who returned the gesture.

“Master Fu mentioned having a new member. So, where are they?”

“A new user?” Gris asked, wondering why she didn’t get the memo.

“I would like to introduce you two to our newest member.”

The three turned to where Chat gestured, watching as a person with golden horns emerged from the doorway that led to their training grounds on the Montparnasse Tower.

“Hello everyone. My name is Ryuuko, wielder of the Dragon miraculous. I hope to be of some help.”

“Woah, she has a whole katana by her side! Is that allowed?” Carapace asked, stretching to see the black sheath that held the katana.

“Carapace. Focus.” Chat stern said. “It’s our job to deal with this akuma as soon as possible. As you know, Queen Bee is down and Ladybird might be due to her absence.

For this to be a success, Ryuuko, you are in charge of finding a way to lift up this fog to help with the search. Gris, multiply and scatter yourself around the city for any hints of where the akuma might be.”

“Got it.” “Roger that!” Ryuuko and Gris said, jumping off to complete their tasks.

“What about us?” Carapace asked.

“I want you to look for Lila Rossi. She’s who the akuma is after.”

“Right. But what about you?”

“I’ll keep searching around this area. Something tells me to stay put.” Chat said.

He watched as Carapace nodded, leaving him by himself.

Chat looked out towards the city, wondering if he was up to the job, if he was able to shine a candle to Ladybird, now that she was nowhere to be found. Would he be able to save Chloe? Marinette?

Sighing, Chat looked up to the sky, shutting his eyes firmly.

“What should I do, what should I do...Mom?”

#maribat #amira wayne

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 4 years

Text

Just A Taste

Characters: Spencer Reid x reader, minor characters

Word Count: 2,925

Warnings: talk of men abusing their female partners (very implicitly), smut, oral (female recieving), fingering, a bit of dom!spencer

request by @theitcaramelchick: Okay but imagine Reid interrogating a suspect and you, an assistant at the BAU office, happen to hear how domineering he is with them and you get all hot and bothered? Jesus. 🥵 And the way he would make the suspect tell him stuff. ...Could you do a one shot with this?

Summary: You assist Spencer with an interrogation despite having no experience with it all. Turns out, there is a reason why Spencer chose you, and it’s not all for work.

Squares Filled: office sex for @cmkinkbingo // free space for @cmbingo

Author’s Note: If you have any requests, please send them in! this is unbeta’d and every mistake is all on me.

Feedback the glue that holds my writing together

Tags at the bottom

For the first time in… ever… you’re going to assist the one and only Dr. Spencer Reid in an interrogation room with a real criminal. You’re only an office assistant, but they wanted you to be in there with him. You know nothing about how to talk to criminals or where to even begin, but they wouldn’t take no for an answer. You don’t even know what you would do in this interview, but you’re not going to question it. This is your chance to prove you belong with the rest of the BAU.

Your dream is to be a profiler that catches bad guys. If you can see how they think during this interrogation, then maybe you can start to work on your own profile. While you’re very nervous to be in this interrogation room, you’re more worried to be in that room with Spencer. It’s not that you’re worried for how bad you might be in front of him, you’re afraid he will figure out your feelings for him. He’s the most talked BAU agent on your floor. He’s so smart, innovated, talented, and very handsome.

His brown eyes can be so soft and caring, but can also turn hard and threatening in a moment’s notice. How he hasn’t landed himself a girlfriend yet is beyond you, but you’re glad he hasn’t. Him being available makes you less guilty for the thoughts you have about him. He’s tall, lean, has curly hair that you really want to tug, and he has a habit of biting and licking those damn lips. He’s definitely been the center of far too many fantasies you relive over and over again.

Your office is one floor below the BAU team. You’re best behind a computer, but you’re trying hard to prove yourself worthy enough to be a profiler. Because you’re great with a computer, your best friend is Penelope. When the team is away, you like to go to her office and hang with her when she’s not assisting her team. You use her to gather intel on the rest of the team, and you’ve learned the following details:

Rossi loves to drink. He has a very impressive collection of old alcohol that he doesn’t really use all that often, but always loves to show off. Hotch loves his son, and would do just about anything for him. One year, Jack dressed up as his father for Halloween. You thought that was the best thing ever. While Emily isn’t on the team anymore, Penlelope does talk about how brave and selfless she is. She’s saved the other teammates in more ways than one.

JJ has been through so much; not only as a mother but as an agent. She’s suffered the most, but she works the hardest. Derek is the muscle of the team, and Penelope has said some raunchy stuff that you’d rather not repeat. Last, but certainly not least, Spencer. He’s had a kind of serious girlfriend, Maeve, but she ended up dying right in front of him. He’s been through a lot as well, but he won’t ever give up on helping people. He’s really great with kids, and he is definitely husband material. Even Penelope is surprised how Spencer hasn’t settled down by now.

Fine by you, as long as you get a piece of him at some point.

It’s hard to put yourself out there for a man like him because if he somehow rejected you, then you won’t be able to recover from that. You don’t want to be one of those women who centers her world around some guy, but Spencer is just so special that you wouldn’t bounce back by a rejection from him. You’ve voiced your thoughts and opinions to Penelope, and as far as you know, she’s kept all those opinions to herself.

Now you have to work with the guy you are already nervous to be around. No one told you why they wanted you in there with him, but it’s not like you’re going to complain. You head up to the floor above you where Spencer is waiting for you. Once he sees you, he heads over to you. Your heart pounds just a bit faster, and your breath comes out a bit shakier. You try to keep your complexion the same color, but you know you’ve revealed how pink they are.

“Are you okay? Do you need a minute?” he asks.

“What do you mean?”

“Your cheeks are flushed. Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. I’m just a bit nervous. I’ve never done anything like this before. I don’t know why I’m even here,” you chuckle nervously.

“You’re going to be fine. I promise.”

“Why am I here, Spencer?”

“I asked for you.”

He leaves your side without another word, and you follow him to the interrogation room. The unsub they caught, Frank Bishop, sits inside the room silently. From what you’ve heard about this guy, he’s killed half a dozen men. The BAU doesn’t know where he’s buried them, and they have to get him to confess to their murders as well as their locations. You’ve seen some terrible people, but he is on your radar.

First and foremost, this man is accused of killing men who were physically and emotionally abusive towards their wives or girlfriends. He sees himself as some sort of God or savoir in the eyes of these women. Not that you agree with his method, but these women aren’t suffering anymore. You’re actually nervous to talk to a man like him because of the person you are.

Yes, you’re a submissive. Everyone who meets you knows this. You don’t broadcast it, but it’s all in the way you present yourself. You’re also showing signs of nervousness, you rarely say no to people in fear of what they would do to you if you did, and all your friends are dominants. They just embrace life and want you to do the same. You’ve done some stupid shit in your day because of them, but your life wouldn’t be what it is now if you didn’t have them in your life.

Spencer gives you one last look before entering the room. Frank’s head pops up, and he straightens when he sees you. He must have seen the way you’re presenting yourself because he can’t take his eyes off you.

“Don’t look at her, look at me. Tell me where you buried those five men,” Spencer demands.

Seeing him like this is putting you back into your late night fantasies. One thing you never considered is the way he is with hardened criminals. He can get so threatening that sends a heat sparking up your core. You push your thighs together to relieve some tension, and you cross your arms loosely.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. What five men?” he asks and smiles at you.

The way he smiles makes you nervous, and you begin to bounce your leg aimlessly. Frank likes how nervous you are, so you try to keep it under control.

"Don't waste my time here. Where are they?" Spencer asks again.

The man doesn't answer. All he does is stare at you. Your leg bounces faster so that's the only thing you can hear besides the ticking of the clock in the room.

"Stop bouncing your leg," Spencer demands.

He puts his hand on your thigh to stop you himself and that doesn't go unnoticed by Frank. You immediately stop what you're doing and look at Spencer with wide eyes. Once he knows you won't do it again, he takes his hand away.

You wish he hadn't.

"We know you stalked and killed men who abused their partners. They'd be somewhere where you can visit and continue their humiliation. You wouldn't want a proper burial for them, would you?"

"I didn't kill anyone else besides Jack Harmer."

"Yeah, that's because we caught you in the act. We know you did it. We found traces of your DNA in their houses."

"Doesn't mean I killed them."

The tension in the room thickens, and you feel trapped. You can't go anywhere, you haven't said a single word since you got here, and all Frank has done is stare at you. You'd leave, but you're afraid Spencer is just going to yell at you. You knew he wouldn't, but your anxiety doesn't know that. Because you feel trapped, you result in biting your nails. It's one of the things you do when you don't know what to do. However, as soon as you put your thumb between your teeth, Spencer swats your hand away.

"Don't bite your nails," he orders.

Why is he being like this? He is never this aggressive towards people—or that's what Penelope told you.

"Why don't you let her do what she wants?" Frank asks.

"Is that what you told Jason Hurley, Jared Bush, Harold Jenkins, Bailey Pickett, and Cody Campbell?"

"Who?" Frank smirks.

You shrink back into your seat because this interrogation can literally take a number of turns. Spencer looks at you with fire in his eyes, and you actually became scared at the thought of what he might do to you.

"Sit up straight. We're in a goddamn interrogation. If you can't handle that, then why are you even here?" he snaps.

Okay, you have no idea why he's treating you like this. Is it all for show, or does he really think he can boss you around like that? Of course, you're not going to say anything to him about it, but that doesn't mean you won't complain to Penny about this.

"Leave her alone! Who do you think you are treating her that way? Jason, Jared, and Harold all thought they could get away with treating their women like that. It's why I threw their bodies in the lake behind my house. Now, don't get me started on Bailey and Cody." Frank blew up.

He confessed to all five murders including revealing where their bodies were located. It wasn't long before you were able to leave. However, you didn't get very far because Spencer was pulling you into the nearest empty office.

"Look, I'm sorry for how I treated you there. Frank looked for men who "bossed" their partners around. I figured if I did that to you, he would reveal where he hid those bodies."

You knew Spencer was one of the good ones.

"You could have just told me. I would have played along."

"Your reaction needed to be real. I chose you because I know you're a submissive. I needed all of it to be real."

"How did you know that?"

"Besides how you acted today... Penelope told me."

"She what?"

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone. Though, that's the other reason why I picked you."

"Which is?"

You meant to say that accusingly, but it came out in a breathy whisper.

"You're attracted to me. I need that attraction to be real," he reveals. You want to deny it, but your brain just isn't cooperating. So, he continues when he sees you wanting to deny it. "I knew it was true when you came up this morning. I asked you if you were okay because your cheeks were pink. They were like that because of me. I'm sure your heart started pumping as well. The next sign was in the interrogation room. You were rubbing your thighs together because of me. Should I continue?"

Goddamn, the man really knew how to sweet talk you. You could deny it, but what would the point be? He already knows your feelings. The other option is to come clean and hope he doesn't reject you.

"What are you going to do if what you said is true?” you wonder.

He takes three large steps toward you, and you, purely out of intimidation, take five much smaller steps back. Your back hits the wall next to the door, and you realize you trapped yourself. He places one hand on the wall next to yours and with the other, he locks the office. He leans down so that his mouth is right next to your ear.

"If it were true, I'd get down on my knees, yank that unbelievably tight skirt down your legs, and bury my tongue in you," he whispers.

Shit. Did he really just say that to you? Your panties are so wet right now, and it's all because of the man right in front of you.

"Hmm? Would you like that?" he asks as he tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear. You can't help but nod slightly. He's taken your ability to talk. "That's my girl."

You could have come right there, but you really want to know what his tongue feels like inside you. He presses his lips on your neck and gives a few kisses. He has you exactly where he wants you. You are his and he knows it.

"Remember, we are at work. Be a good girl and don't make a sound," he whispers before dropping to his knees.

Holy shit, this is exactly what you pictured in your fantasies. Now, you're getting the real thing. His hands grip your waist, digging his fingers into your skin. You know bruises are going to show up even through the couple layers of clothing. He gives you a questioning look as if to ask if this is alright. You just nod once, and he gets to work.

He slides down both your skirt and panties until they are on the floor. He keeps your heels on, and you make a mental note that he likes heels. He rests one leg over his shoulder, and he presses light kisses to your inner thighs. It didn't occur to you that you're exposing yourself to him for the first time. He has an eidetic memory. If this whole thing doesn't work out, he will have the look, taste, and feel of you embedded into his mind.

The smell of you messes with his mind, and he knows he has to get a taste of you. He gives one kiss to your clit, and you do your best to keep that moan in. Whenever you had sex, it’s always a challenge to stay quiet. You did it, but it always came at a cost. Spencer loves it when a girl moans for him, but not at work where his coworkers and bosses are.

Too much time has passed since he first got a whiff of you. Maybe he can take his time later, but for right now, all he wants is to make you come. From the bottom to the top, he licks one thick stripe up your center. When he sees you dripping with anticipation, he shoves his unbelievably long tongue inside you. You bite your lower lip to keep yourself from screaming out. Spencer looks up through his lashes and swipes his tongue from one wall to the other. The way he's looking at you makes you clench around his wet muscle. You have to get your tension out somehow.

There is finally an opportunity for you to satisfy one of your urges. You reach down and grab a fistful of his curly hair. You tug, and he moans. The vibration sends ripples through your body, and you give another hard tug. Your head bangs against the wall behind you, but you're too caught up in the moment to care.

He grunts when you give another yank. You file that piece of information in the same place as the heels. He pulls away only to suction his lips around your clit. He doesn't want you to feel empty, so he slides in two very long fingers.

“Shit! Spencer!” you hiss.

That response only makes him suck harder. You tighten around his fingers, making it almost impossible for him to remove them. He keeps his fingers right where they are and wiggles them so that he's hitting places not even you knew you had.

"I'm close! Fuck!"

Without going too hard, he nibbles on your clit with his teeth. The stimulation, combined with what his fingers are doing, is enough to push you over the edge. Your orgasm washes over you just as your come spills over his fingers. He pulls away and sticks them in his mouth. He sucks your juices from them before diving in once more. You're very sensitive from the first orgasm, so you twitch away from him. However, he grips your hips to hold you in place. He licks you clean until there is no more evidence lingering.

Once he finishes, he sets your leg down and redresses you. Your legs are wobbly, but you're doing a good job at keeping yourself up. He pushes your hair back to expose your ear, and he leans down to whisper in it.

"I never knew you tasted so sweet. I'm going to have a hard time focusing on work now that I got a taste. Be a good girl for the rest of the day, and I’ll show you what else I'm good for."

He presses a kiss to the side of your neck before leaving the office. Did that really just happen? How can you get through the rest of the day when you've experienced how well he can work his tongue? Plus, you also won't be able to stop thinking of his proposition. If he's that good with just his mouth. What else will he be good at?

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wordsfromthesol · 4 years

Text

Character Model

Author: @wordsfromthesol Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader Summary: You may or may not have been following Jason Todd around a bookstore so you could model one of your story characters after him. He may or may not have noticed. Warnings: Language? Word Count: 2k A/N: Just a story from my drafts folder. Sorry I haven’t been able to write any of the wonderful requests I have sitting in my inbox...work has been running me ragged. But they are coming! Love you all 💛

You had no idea where this man came from, but he was perfect. Exactly what you envisioned the assassin prince in your newest story to look like, and he just waltzed into the bookstore. First, you tried to ignore him…after all it would be kind of creepy to stare at this man while sketching him and jotting down little details about the way he walks, talks, runs his fingers through his hair. The more you thought about it, the more you couldn’t get him out of your mind. As you watched his mannerisms, he just became more perfect. Fuck it. You got up from your seat and moved closer to him, pretending to look at the books on the shelf. It wasn’t a very good cover story, as it was quite obvious you were drawing him. I will never see this man again, who cares.

You were never the best artist, but the image got the message across. Once it was complete, you continued following him awkwardly around the store jotting down notes. His interest in certain books, the way he seemed to survey the bookstore…Maybe he is an assassin prince? Those didn’t actually exist right? You ignored those thoughts as you commented on his gait. Wrapped up in your descriptions, you didn’t realize he was now watching you. That is until you looked up again and saw his steel blue eyes staring into yours.

“What are you profiling me for, doll?”

You spun around, hoping he wasn’t talking to you. No such luck. “Oh, uhm, I wasn’t?”

“Hmm, sure does look like it. Can I see that sketch?”

“Heh, you saw that?” He raised his eyebrows. Of course he saw it, Y/N, you are being creepy. “Okay, I swear I’m not stalking you! I just…gosh this is going to sound so stupid…you look exactly like how I envisioned this character in my head…for a story.”

“You’re a writer?”

“Some people would beg to differ, but I guess technically.”

“So what’s the character then?”

Okay now he’s going to be offended. “Uhm…an assassin? But he’s also like prince to the guild thing. It’s kind of complicated.”

“So I look like an assassin?”

“Kind of…?” To your surprise the man chuckled.

“Not gunna lie, I’ve been called so much worse.”

Why are you so awkward? “Well sorry for being creepy…” You turned to leave and didn’t notice the man following you until you nearly slammed the front door in his face.

“I think I deserve to see that sketch after you followed me around for an hour AND tried to knock me out with a door.”

“Oh my go – I’m so sorry, I figured I’d thoroughly…embarrassed myself, so I left…why are you following me?”

“Thought I’d return the favor?” You gave him a nervous smile, the thought of this very large strange man walking you home, at night, in Gotham, did not provide you with much peace. “Relax, you look just like a character I imagined…” He quipped, trying to ease your obvious discomfort.

“Not funny.”

“Really though, it’s dark and getting late and this is Gotham.” You eyed him suspiciously, this still probably wasn’t the smartest move on your part, but you relented and motioned for him to follow.

“Don’t make fun of it, I’m a writer not an artist. This is purely for research.” You commented as you passed him the sheet of notebook paper.

“It looks good, I especially like all the little notes about me. Ruggedly handsome? Piercing steel blue eyes?”

Shit. I forgot about those. “Uhm, yeah.” You tried to snatch the paper back, but he could easily keep it from you. “It was research!” Huffing, you remember some of the descriptions were not very complimentary. Watching his eyes scan the page, you tried to explain. “Some of them are just for the character, don’t take it…”

“No, they are all…pretty spot on I’d say.” His voice turned solemn, almost sad, as he passed the paper back to you.

“I’m sorry.”

“Nah,” he waved it off, picking back up his nonchalant timbre.

The two of you mindless chatted about your favorite books until you arrived at your apartment building.

“Well, this is me. Thanks again…” You had just realized the two of you never exchanged names. “My name’s Y/N, by the way.”

“Jason. I’ll see you around. Try not to stalk anyone else.”

“No promises!” You called out as you entered the apartment.

It had been nearly a week, and honestly you didn’t expect to see the stranger again. After all, how would you? No numbers or last names were exchanged. Yet there he was, sitting across from you at the coffee shop, face buried in a book. This man is actually reading in a coffee shop. He looked so out of place compared to all the usual suspects. It would be creepy if I remembered him, right? I’m just going to ignore him. Your plan didn’t last long, as Jason soon came up and sat beside you.

“Stalking anyone new today?”

“Oh, I uhm…no. Writing about you actually…the character! The character not you.” God, you’re so smooth. You thought as you brought your hand up to cover your face.

“So how is assassin me doing today?”

“Honestly? You’re kind of being a bitch. Like how am I supposed to know how you will react if you are refusing to tell me?”

“Uhm…isn’t that the part you’re supposed to make up?”

“No, I made up you…the assassin…now you’re…they’re supposed to tell me what they want to do.”

“Uh huh. Right. You know they aren’t real right? Like I’m not actually a killer prince.”

“Heh, yeah I know. Wouldn’t that be cool though?”

“I just think you’d be assassinated.”

“Ohh, harsh. Though, sadly, I would just be murdered.”

“No, I had it right.” Jason gave you a smirk as he got up from the table and walked out the door.

Did that actually just happen? You quickly gathered your things and threw them into your computer bag, racing after him. “WAIT!” You noticed he had stopped just outside the door and well before you called after him.

“Walking home?”

“Uhm, yeah. Can I ask you some questions first?”

“How about you can ask me questions until we get to your apartment building?”

“Deal.”

It was a short ten-minute walk, but you picked his brain. Giving him situations to see how he would react. This was way easier than you rewriting the scene, or going back and forth for hours before giving up and not writing anything at all. In fact, his reactions were eerily similar to that of your murderous character. You weren’t accidentally copying his life, right?

The next time you saw him, you were out with friends at some random bar. He sat there stoically on the bar stool, staring into space. This was so…like if your character had just murdered someone. No, he couldn’t have. Probably just a bad day. You excused yourself from the group of friends and slide in to the stool besides Jason.

“So, Jason, bad day?”

“Oh, Y/N. I didn’t…you’re here.”

“Yeah, I try to have a life sometimes. Albeit very rarely.”

“Hm, well, don’t let me keep you.”

“That’s alright, they are content without me.” You pointed towards a group of people. “And plus, you look like you need some company.”

“…”

“Man, riveting stuff. So, what are you drinking?”

“Whiskey.”

“Just…straight? Alright, spill. Remember I know you.”

“I…just had a bad day at work. I’ll get over it.”

“I’m sure whatever happened wasn’t your fault. Some situations are inevitable.”

“I guess.”

“So what do you do, exactly?”

A sad, solemn smile laced his lips as he got up from the bar. “Another time. Get home safe, Y/N.”

“That wasn’t an answer…” you mumbled as you made your way back to your friends.

Just the next day, you were mindless going aisle by aisle in the grocery store, when you feel someone slightly bump into you. You whipped your head around to see the culprit, when what you saw was Jason with a big grin on his face.

“I’m starting to think you never stopped stalking me.”

“If anything, you’re stalking me. This is the closest grocery to my apartment…which you know the address of. I have no clue where you live.”

“Fair enough.” He looked down at the assorted items in your cart, “got a plan for those?”

“Honestly, my version of cooking is throwing some things in a pan and hoping for the best.”

“Hm, well, I could come over and show you some things?”

“Jason, I don’t know your middle or last name, are you offering to cook for me?”

“Peter Todd, and yes, Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N, I am.”

You looked at him with surprise, “See, now who’s stalking who.”

He started to trail off with a smirk, “I’ll be at yours at 6!”

Did that seriously just happen? How did he know my name? Once you were done you raced home to clean. You were so not prepared for guests, with your scratch paper and sticky notes strewn about the apartment. As soon as the clock struck 6, you heard a knock at the door.

Jason tried to show you what he’s doing in the kitchen, but you couldn’t care less. You sat on the counter, pretending to listen to the instructions, while sipping on the wine in your hand.

“You’re not retaining any of this, are you?”

“Hmm, not really. But I’m quite enjoying watching you do it.” You motioned for him to continue preparing the meal.

“Are you just trying to get a free meal?”

“Well, technically I paid for the food, I’m just after the free chef…that was…I meant like after the preparation of the food…not after you…” Shut up Y/N, you are making it worse.

“That’s alright, I’m just after the free writer.” He looked over his shoulder and winked at you before returning to the stove.

“Does cooking always take this long? It’s nearly 7!” You were trying to quickly change the subject and forget the embarrassment you had just endured.

“Calm down, doll, it’s nearly ready. Grab some plates.” You hopped off the counter and took two plates down from the cabinet, placing them next to the stove before sitting at your kitchen island patiently waiting to be served food.

“Okay, this is amazing. MAYBE worth the hour wait.”

“Oh well MAYBE I’ll take it back then.”

“Don’t you dare.”

Though both of your plates had been empty for hours, and the mess in the kitchen was staring you in the face, neither of you could seem to move. You found anything and everything to talk about, well almost everything. For some reason he still wouldn’t tell you what he did for a living. Which annoyed you because whatever it was clearly took its toll.

“Okay, fine! Don’t tell me, some big ole secret. I’m beginning to think you actually are an assassin prince and your consciousness just went into mine…so now you’re a character in my book.”

“I guess I’ll just have to read it and let you know.”

You side-eyed him, “You can read it when I find out what you do?” You knew at this point there was no hope in getting an answer.

“Tempting. Perhaps you can tempt me further Wednesday night.” Jason rose from the stool and traipsed over to the door. You quickly followed him, mainly out of sheer confusion.

“What’s Wednesday night?”

“Well, I figure those leftovers will last about two days. Can’t leave you without your free chef.” At this point his face was inches from yours. “I’ll be here at 6.” He whispered as he quickly spun on his heel and left.

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soulmate-game · 4 years

Text

“Alright, so tonight is going to be fairly standard. Arkham is silent, and there’s no solid leads on what any of the free rogues might be up to. Harley is sick and Ivy is stuck at home taking care of her, so they aren’t going to be up to anything on either side of the law for a few days. Catwoman is the only person we’d have to look out for right now, but her kleptomania has taken her out of the city for a change,” Barbara was typing away at the large Batcomputer keyboard as she brought all of the Gotham vigilantes up to speed on what to expect for patrol that night. “So, Red Hood and Black Bat will take the Narrows and surrounding area patrol route like usual. Nightwing and Batgirl, Upper east side and fashion district patrol route. Red Robin, you’re taking the route that passes city hall and through Old Gotham and Diamond District, and if you don’t throw a fit maybe you can take Robin with you. Batman, crime alley and Newtown patrol. Robin or no Robin, pick your poison,” the redhead offered, finally spinning her wheelchair around to look at everyone. “We’ll be pretty spread out tonight, but like I said, there’s nothing. No whispers of anything planned on the dark web, no news from any of the rogues, Blackgate and Arkham are, dare I say, peaceful right now. But if you see anything, I’ll redirect you guys so you can get backup ASAP.”

This was a rare night. Usually there was at least a plot or red flag to investigate, but not that night. For some reason, it seemed like Gotham had gotten a dose of sanity that it had been desperately missing.

“Actually,” Alfred took that moment to walk in, a slight pep to his step that seemed to catch everyone’s attention. “I do have news. Batman, you of course know that I have been keeping a close eye on Paris’s situation as per your orders, yes?”

Bruce, who had already been inching towards the batmobile none too subtly, suddenly stood stock still and slowly turned to look at his father figure. He could feel the eyes of his many children honing in on him, silent questions behind those orbs.

“Of course, I remember,” he confirmed cautiously. “You haven’t had an update for me in years.”

Years? Tim furrowed his eyebrows. That meant this had to be something that stretched very far back, because everything that Batman tried to keep secret from him since he became Robin had already been outed. Right? Well, he supposed there was always the possibility that Bruce could have snuck something by, but not a large one. Between him and Oracle, any new secrets he tried to squirrel away were unearthed pretty swiftly. So, most likely this was something Bruce had asked Alfred to keep an eye on at least back when Jason was still Robin. Maybe even further back than that.

“Yes, well you wouldn’t have appreciated any prior updates, sir,” Alfred said pointedly, raising an eyebrow. He always would be the one to understand Bruce Wayne and Batman the best out of all of them. “But this is a big one. I used our inside contact to check up on the Paris situation like I do every month, and this came up,” Alfred pulled out a remote from his pocket and clicked it at the computer, triggering it to bring up an article that likely had been hidden and only accessible via that remote signal. If Barbara had had any reason to check for hidden files she would have found it easily, but Alfred was good at never giving any hints as to when he was hiding something.

But what was on the computer was far more interesting than the all-too-familiar, cryptid ways of Alfred Pennyworth.

Because it was a news article from an online Paris newspaper. It was still in untranslated French, but nobody in that room had any trouble reading it. It was dated to have been published two weeks earlier.

On the cover picture for the article was a man that everybody also recognized, being high-profile and extremely influential in the fashion industry. Most of them had even met the man at least once, the aging Gabriel Agreste. In his early seventies, it was odd to see the man being herded into a police vehicle. He didn’t seem all that threatening, though he still struck an oddly intimidating figure with his cold glare and straight back. Being herded behind him was a woman of around Bruce’s own age, with long brown hair in several elaborate braids. Her dark, almost muddy green eyes bore into the camera and a snarl was on her face. Lila Rossi, the model that had been employed under Agreste for quite some years now and had turned into a sort of reality TV celebrity after she got too old to be hired for as many modeling gigs. She was known as highly untrustworthy, a lie monger and the most infamous gossip in the celebrity world. The headline for the article was;

“THE PARISIAN NIGHTMARE FINALLY OVER! AFTER THIRTY YEARS OF TORMENT, THE HAWKMOTHS OF PAST AND PRESENT HAVE BEEN ARRESTED.”

Underneath that title picture was another, this one detailing the Parisian heroes to stop Hawkmoth, who had been replaced years ago by his female counterpart Monarch, a play on the Monarch Butterfly. The Heroes, on the other hand, had remained mostly the same after the infamous confusion of the early years of Hawkmoth’s reign of terror, where Ladybug had temporarily started adding hero after hero to the team before mysteriously and suddenly retiring almost all of them.

On the right was Ladybug, who stood proud with her arms crossed and a somber gaze directed towards the two unmasked villains. On the left was Chat Noir, in a weird black leather costume that was like a bizzare yet fashionable meld of DiscoWing and the classic Batman uniform. Minus a cape or cowl, of course. Standing behind them, all fanned out, were the last four members of their team. Viperion, in a dark teal snake-themed costume. Ryuuko, standing next to him in a black and red ensemble with her elemental symbol proudly on her chest. Bunnyx, in her bright baby blue and white, and lastly the imperious Stinger behind them in her black outfit with gold accents.

As everyone but Alfred and Bruce read the article and examined the photos as quickly as they could, the eldest vigilante in the room slowly removed his cowl. His eyes were wide, disbelieving as they stared only at the two pictures on the screen and didn’t pay any heed to the article itself.

“Thirty years,” Jason remarked, turning to face Bruce angrily. “Paris has been under attack by magical madmen for thirty years, and you never told us? We knew nothing about this, and this has been going on since before us. Since before you, even,” he waved a hand at the screen angrily. “You know that they have been under attack since before Batman was even a thing, and you never said anything? We could have helped! The league could have—“

“Been a liability,” Bruce interrupted, but it was the uncharacteristic softness to his tone that ultimately shut Jason up and attracted everyone else’s rapid attention. “The league knows. The founding members, anyway. It was something I briefed them on back when we first founded the League, but we were careful to keep any mention of it off of any electronic system. The magic behind the attacks stopped any word of the terrorism from getting out through normal means. We pretended to put the JLE in Paris, when really they are centered miles out of city limits and never set foot inside Paris’s boundaries.”

“Why?” Dick asked, his own mask off so that he could glare into Bruce’s eyes without it obscuring his expression at all. He wasn’t explosively angry like Jason, but it was clear that Dick wasn’t happy either. “They all look to be your age, Bruce. Which means they’ve been fighting HawkMoth since they were teenagers, on their own, since before there was any Justice League or very many other established heroes at all to provide backup. And I get that HawkMoth and Monarch seem to have controlled or fed off negative emotions and a lot of us would have been liabilities, but there are Leaguers who have extreme control over their emotions. You could have gone. Or J’onn, you could have even sent Tim. Anybody to help even a little.”

“Paris isn’t my city, it’s Ladybug’s city. The League and most metahuman heroes stay out of Gotham because I asked them too, but I am not the first to have the idea that keeping other heroes out of a volatile city can be beneficial for damage control. Ladybug herself told me not to allow any interference in the situation,” Bruce braced himself against the back of one of their metal debriefing chairs, leaning forward so it could take most of his weight. That, and the way he never looked away from the photos displayed on the computer, tipped off everyone else that Bruce might not have stayed uninvolved willingly. That he had a deeper connection to the whole Paris mess than just keeping a shrewd eye on a possible issue.

“You know Ladybug?” Tim decides to speak up, leaning back against the desk that housed the batcomputer keyboard. His voice was decidedly softer than that of his elder brothers’.

Bruce nodded, still in an odd partial trance. “We met when I was on a trip to Paris, before I became Batman. It was twenty-three years ago, I was eighteen and found out the hard way about the situation that the rest of the world was somehow oblivious to. I was able to meet Ladybug during one of her patrols, and confronted her. Even after I became Batman two years later, she refused any help. It wasn’t until about a year before I adopted Dick that I finally decided I couldn’t keep worrying about a situation and people that I wasn’t being allowed to help, so I told Alfred to use the sources that Ladybug had given me back when we first met to check in on the situation every month or two. I know that it was not the best decision, making Alfred do what I couldn’t bring myself to, but by the time I adopted Dick I had mostly forgotten about it. I was too worried about trying to figure out how to raise a kid and then deal with raising a vigilante kid after that, for the first time.”

Silence reigned for a while. This was, essentially, news that Bruce had been waiting to hear for over twenty years. An outcome that he had been barred from being a part of. Talk about bittersweet, especially when Bruce seemed so passionate about wanting to have helped. Probably too guilty about not being allowed to.

In the end, it was Damian who made the connection between this news and his father’s foreign mood and behavior first. Or at least, he was the first to vocalize it. Cass probably noticed it sooner.

“You have feelings for Ladybug,” Damian somehow managed to make the declaration sound like a reprimand. “I admit, she is likely much better of a suitor for you than that mangy cat, but I hardly think that trying to start courting her again after so long apart is reasonable. She could have changed from—“

“I know, Damian,” Bruce’s knuckles were white from how tightly he was gripping the chair. “Trust me, I have spent more than enough hours contemplating calling her again to catch up, but I knew it was best to stay away. I had grown busy with Batman and the League anyway, and adding the time difference on there was no way any relationship between us would have been feasible.”

“So you cut yourself off from even being her friend. Which, might I remind you, I heavily advised against,” Alfred finally cut back into the conversation, hands clasped behind his back. “The two of you had maintained a perfectly stable long distance friendship for over five years, and I still consider the day you cut her off to be one of your stupidest mistakes, master Bruce. On an unrelated note, I received a call from the designer that you always commission your more high-fashion suits from, sir. She is coming to Gotham for a time, and I gave her an invitation to come visit for dinner tomorrow. I hope you don’t mind.” With that said, Alfred turned on his heel and walked away.

“That man never raises his voice, but somehow still makes you feel like absolute shit when he gets mad,” Stephanie mused aloud when the butler had left, earning silent nods from everyone else.

“How are you still alive, Father?” Damian asked, raising an eyebrow over one vibrant green eye. “If you cut off Ladybug only to continue to commission the person that I assume is her civilian identity on a regular basis, how has that idiocy not blended into the rest of your life?”

“It has,” Jason added in, always up for a game of Rag on Bruce. “He’s just always had this annoying ability of surviving even the shittiest situations he ends up in. It’s like he has plot armor or something.”

Bruce only grunted, pulling his cowl back on. “Patrol. Robin, you’re with Red Robin today. Don’t kill each other.”

“Oh no, I want to live to see the girl you’ve apparently been crushing on since you were a teenager,” Tim said as he ambled over to his motorcycle. “Seeing THAT reunion is gonna be way better than picking another fight with Demon Spawn.”

“Tt.”

—*—*—*—*—*

“Your tie won’t get any straighter,” Barbara teased Bruce, watching as he fiddled with the tie around his throat for the millionth time in just the past ten minutes. Alfred had made sure that he couldn’t escape this, even going so far as benching Batman for the night.

And to make matters worse, it was still far too early for patrol so all the Wayne kids were present. Stephanie had other obligations to see to, unfortunately, but other than her even Jason had come over to the manor to see the fallout.

“Master Bruce, she is here,” Alfred’s voice cut through the almost palpable nerves emanating from the usually stoic or charismatic man. Batman was nowhere to be seen at the moment, but neither was Playboy Billionaire Brucie Wayne. No, this was Bruce Wayne, as genuine as anybody could see him. And more nervous than his kids had ever witnessed.

The door was opened, and in stepped someone that defied any of the Batkid’s preconceptions. They were expecting someone suave, sophisticated, with hard-earned muscle trying to hide under her skin. Like a Wonder Woman type of person, bursting with strength except for when they made an effort to disguise it. But that was not what they got. No suave, sophisticated bachelorette of a businesswoman and reputable fashion designer. No goddess-masquerading-as-a-human. Not even a femme fatale like Selina Kyle or most of Batman’s exes.

But there was a distinct observation that the kids made the moment they saw her.

Black hair, so dark that it seemed to reflect blue in the light, and clear blue eyes that were dark, vibrant, and seemed to glow with intelligence and humor, with just the slightest gray tones that hid in them grim experiences and disillusion.

She had a smile that was eerily similar to Dick’s when she laid eyes on the family and let it spread across her face. It was like the warmth of the sun, and instantly made the impersonal foyer feel cozy and welcoming. But the sharpness in her eyes as she scanned over all the people gathered, more than she expected if her eyebrow raise was any indication, was just like Tim. Too much like Tim.

She came to a stop a few feet away from the Wayne clan, and rested one hand on her waist as she popped her hip out. Jason’s attitude.

Her hair was up in a simple but elegant bun, with a braid curling around the base of it. She was small, about five foot four if their estimates were correct, and the sleek sleeves of her midnight blue dress simultaneously emphasized and disguised the lithe, corded muscle mass that seemed to flow smoothly down her arms. Not a brawler’s muscle, but an acrobat or gymnast’s. The delicate silver embroidery along the sleeves and trim of her dress, and curling around her waist like a belt of thread, was in actuality a string of bats in various flight poses interspersed with silver swirls and tiny ladybugs. Her own playful personality, it seemed, something innocent and daring and subtle all at once that didn’t quite fit any of the kids, it was solely hers.

“I am Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” the woman finally introduced herself, holding out her hand even as her radiant smile stayed firmly in place. When her eyes found Bruce again, they stayed there. “An old friend of your father’s. And by the way, Bruce. If you ever cut contact with me again without ever explaining yourself, I will not stay twiddling my thumbs in some other city again. I will hunt you down and get you to tell me what exactly possessed you to freeze me out, and only if it is some really good reasoning will I let you off without giving you a remedial lesson in the importance of dodging.”

Damian’s fire.

Dick looked over at Bruce, then at Marinette. She caught his eye, nodded and winked, and looked back to her old friend.

“But I do have to say, this looks suspiciously like a family we might have had if you had ever gotten up the courage to ask me out all those years ago instead of not realizing that I never specifically forbade you from visiting Paris, only heroes in general. You’re lucky I’m patient. I spent thirty years waiting to get back the Butterfly Miraculous and lock those two up for good, but making me wait twenty years to finally confess to you is a bit much, don’t you think? And adopting kids with only blue eyes and black hair is a bit on the nose, even for you.”

Scratch that, Damian’s loyalty.

Bruce really had adopted kids that reminded him of Marinette in some way, and the way he would grin or smile at Damian when he was displaying his usually subtle but steady loyalty, or the way that Bruce had almost unending tolerance for Damian’s stubbornness, it all started to make sense.

Bruce had tried building a family around the one he imagined he could have had with Marinette.

“Mari—“

“Nope. You’ve made me wait this long, you don’t even get a hug until after dinner. Then we can catch up, and you’ll take me out to dinner in a few days,” suddenly what was happening seemed to creep up on the woman, and she fidgeted. Sheepishness rose to her face, and she winced at her own words. But damn, she had imagined this day for so long, she couldn’t help but get assertive! “I mean, if you want to. I get it if you lost interest in dating me, but—“

“How about I set up a private dinner on the top of Wayne enterprises, day after tomorrow. We can even do a patrol afterwards if you’re up to it.”

His sons all facepalmed, some inwardly and some outwardly. Barbara groaned and Cass pinched the bridge of her nose. But, to their astonishment, Marinette’s smile just came back full force.

“Aww, you know I can’t resist the offer of a patrol. But just one, I want to enjoy some time off now that I’m not perpetually on-call as Paris’s main hero.”

Bruce finally grinned back, his eyes soft for the first time in a while that wasn’t directed at his kids. In way that they had never been soft towards Selina or most of his past flings.

“Just one patrol, then.”

“Sounds like a date.”

First attempt to upload this goofed and deleted the first part, so here is attempt number two! Again, Brucinette has been invading my dreams.

Apparently there is a part 2 now.

#mlb x dc #ml x dc #brucinette #aged up marinette

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