#'Jason! Stop telling the kids their future partners need to able to do that for Ancients sake!' | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

slasherhaven · 3 years

Note

✨Hi✨Can you write a headcanon for slashers' toxic treats in a relationship? (It may their insecurities, being too jealous/overprotective ect..) thank you so much and i love your blog 💖🦄

You mean other than the murder and sadism???? Sure! 😂 (Not all of these are ‘toxic traits’, some are just problems that you might have in the relationship. Not including the whole murder thing...)

The Slashers and their toxic traits:

Thomas Hewitt

His insecurities. He beats himself up so much about everything and it occasionally gets in the way of your relationship. For the most part you are able to reassure him and he comes around, missing being with you. However, he can start to hide down on the basement and start avoiding you, causing a divide between you both. He’ll comes around or you will march down there and confront him, lovingly, and he’ll feel better for a while. It’s a slow process building Tommy’s self worth but you’re a huge help!

His family? I mean...we all know Hoyt isn’t exactly friendly. Once you’re a part of the family, he expects you to have some sort of part in their chores. He also has a habit of teasing you and Thomas, and not in a very playful way, normally worsening Thomas’ insecurities. Luda May isn’t completely innocent either, though. She does love you but is pretty tough in the early stages of your relationship, like she doesn’t trust you. Once you’re officially a member of the family, she eases up on you though.

Michael Myers

Can be very cold. This shouldn’t be surprising. He’s a very stoic, cold man who is mostly unaffectionate. It takes so long to start building physical affection with him that most people would just give up before they get there. Of course, it’s worth it for when he finally starts to open up to it, but it can be draining on you.

Likes to get his way. He’s stubborn and independent. The thought of having somebody rely on him or to rely on somebody else makes him very uncomfortable, he isn’t used to it at all. And yet, here you both are. So, he doesn’t ask before doing most things, he just kind of...does. He doesn’t understand why you explain that you would like for him to mention it in the future. An example of this is just leaving the house without telling you, leaving you looking for him before realising he left for the night. He’ll gradually come around to improving on it, starting small, but that means a whole lot coming from Michael.

Jason Voorhees

His insecurities. Jason doesn’t pull away from you because of it but the more understanding and patient you are, the better it will be. It takes a long time for him to remove the mask and, naturally, that can cause some tension. He’s too worried about scaring you away while you’re worrying that he doesn’t trust you as much as he claims too. This is something that can be dealt with eventually. Once he’s removed the mask and you make him feel loved, this issue slowly fades away.

Isolation? It’s not really his fault. He lives out in a cabin in the middle of the woods near an old run down summer camp and now you live with him. He’s not purposely keeping you away from other people but it’s something that can’t be helped. Of course he’s not going to stop you from taking trips to visit family or friends even if he would miss you, it’s just now always very easy to do so.

Brahms Heelshire

Selfish. Brahms has a major case of only child syndrome. He can’t accept ‘no’ as an answer, he demands everything he wants, he only really things about himself, mostly because that’s what he’s used too. Thank his parents. Deep down, he really is a sweetheart but you have to chisel away all that nastiness. It’s hard work and you play more of a caretaker role before a romantic partner.

Get’s extremely jealous. He hates the grocery boy’s guts with a vengeance, all because he flirted with you that one time. But he gets jealous over stupid things as well, just when he decides that you aren’t giving him enough attention, which he wants a lot of.

Uses guilt trips. This one you need to stop as soon as possible. It’s how he got his way with his parents, and now he will try to use it against you. As you try to reign in his selfishness, you have to for the same for his guilt trips.

Bo Sinclair

Can’t take responsibility. It takes so much to get him to sincerely apologise. He really needs to see that he’s done something wrong and has really upset you in order to actually apologise. Otherwise he’ll just brush it off and move on, refusing to admit that he did anything wrong.

Manipulative. It’s almost like being manipulative is Bo’s second nature. He does it all the time with people who come into the town but he doesn’t really mean to do it to you. But when he wants something or he’s irritated, he just slips up and it happens. Big fan of saying things like “you’re overreacting”.

Vincent Sinclair

His insecurities. Vincent can become very withdrawn from you due to his own insecurities. It can really get in the way of your relationship. Of course you’re understanding and compassionate but it does start to wear you down, making you a little irritated. You never let on to those feelings though, always trying to comfort him. Vincent will come around eventually after some reassurance but it can be a tough time.

His relationship with Bo. This is probably a bigger problem than his insecurities. Bo has a lot of power over Vincent and you don’t like it at all, even if you have developed a fondness for the other twin as well. Most of the times it isn’t a problem but when Bo is in a bad mood, he mostly takes it out on Vincent. It can feel like Vincent puts Bo above you, even when Bo is being awful. You understand it, you really do. Bo is the toxic one, not Vincent. But that doesn’t always make things easier.

Lester Sinclair

His relationship with his brothers. Lester isn’t a very toxic person but any relationship with somebody who has a life like his could become a little toxic. You are incredibly important to him but...so are his brothers. It’s highly unlikely that he would leave Ambrose to live a more honest life, or at least try to. He’s more likely to do so than either of the twins but it’s still very unlikely to happen. Sometimes it can make you question his priorities, but he really really does love you more than anything.

Bubba Sawyer

His family. His family is extremely toxic, this shouldn’t be much of a shock. Bubba is probably the least toxic out of all of them, this man just wants to love somebody and be loved in return. By family, I mostly mean Drayton.

Isolation. Like with Jason, this isn’t really his fault but it’s something to consider. If you have family or friends, you likely won’t be able to see them much at all. You could still call and message but you live with the Sawyers now that Drayton doesn’t like the idea of you coming and going. This probably links back to the toxic family dynamics.

Billy Lenz

Jealous/possessive. He’s pretty much a shut in, he doesn’t like leaving the house even though he probably could. He doesn’t have a problem with you having friends but gets a little pouty if you go out with them for a long time, and when you get back home, he is extra clingy. He won’t stop you but you’re well aware that he would rather you just stay with him. He probably feels more lonely than anything.

Asa Emory (The Collector)

Manipulative. Asa knows what he wants and when he wants something, he will get it. He does genuinely try to not purposely manipulate you since he cares about you. However, manipulation usually comes so easily to him that he might not even realise he’s doing it.

His need for control. Asa likes being in control and he loves when you’re submissive to him. This means that he can find it a little difficult to give up some control in the relationship or around the house. It can be infuriating but can be adjusted slowly but it’s not going to be easy.

Jesse Cromeans (Chromeskull)

Overprotective/possessive. As soon as another man is talking to you, he will be right by your side, his intimidating figure usually being enough to scare them off. If he had it his way, he’d have you with him at all time, only for him to touch or even look at. However, he won’t resort to that unless it’s something you want...still, it’s obvious and it can become overbearing if nothing else.

Depending on your feelings towards his ‘job’, he can be gone for long periods of times. Unless you are completely okay with what he does and go on the ‘business’ trips with him, you are going to be left home alone for long periods of time. Of course, you might be completely okay with that and if that’s the case, there’s no problem. If you need him around some more...well, you might start to feel a little lonely. He always makes it up to you when he gets home though!

Otis Driftwood

Very focused on himself. He’s just used to only thinking about himself, ever since he was a kid. Of course he does genuinely care about the family and about you (and he doesn’t express that to you better than he does the family) but he’s nowhere near perfect with it. He also has a tendency of pulling away from you when this gets bad. When he realises that it’s bothered you, he doesn’t really apologise either, but he’ll still offer you some comfort.

Anger issues. This man has a temper. He would never turn you but oh boy is it hard work. Most of the time it’s just ranting and shouting about whatever pissed him off. While it doesn’t turn physical or is ever directed at you, it can be a little draining.

Baby Firefly

Doesn’t take much seriously. Baby tends to treat everything like a joke or just doesn’t realise how serious the situation is to you. It’s not an constant thing, if you’re upset, she’ll notice and take it seriously as she comforts you. But she still sometimes brushes off your concerns (as well as everyone else’s) because she’s practically bouncing with energy.

Yautja (Predator)

He. Is. An. Alien. I wouldn’t really call this a toxic trait but it definitely causes some complications. The traditions of his race can be...startling. You find far too many skulls in your home when you start courting. You are also likely the thing to introduce him to monogamy, but he adapts to that very fast because you’re so precious to him.

Pretty possessive. He isn’t the jealous type, just very possessive. You are his mate, his little human, and he wants everyone (especially other Yautjas) to know that. At times it might become a little suffocating.

(Look...I’m bias here okay!)

1K notes · View notes

marauderundercover · 3 years

Text

Taking Chances Ch. 17: Talking (Alt Prompt: The Talk)

AO3

First

Tim walks into the kitchen, blinking sleepily at his little sister. He glances over at the clock on the microwave, blinking again to make sure that he hadn’t misread the time. Five thirty in the morning, and she was baking cookies. He clears his throat, smiling apologetically as she jumps.

“Sorry Mari. Early morning?” He asks, moving to get coffee and noting that the pot was already half empty.

“More like, late night.” She corrects. Tim frowns. Her summer in Gotham was supposed to be relaxing for her. It was supposed to be a way for her to be a kid again. Instead she was making cookies by herself at five thirty in the morning after not sleeping. He wasn’t sure what was wrong, but he was determined to figure it out. There was no way he was going to make her deal with whatever this is by herself. She has backup now.

“Did you want to talk about it?” He offers, leaning against the counter, drinking his coffee quickly to try and wake up more.

“Not really. Kinda just wanted to stress bake.” She says quietly. He nods. Sometimes it was hard to talk about things. That’s okay, he can look into it later.

“Well, I’ve gotta go work on some things in the cave. Did you want to come with?” He asks, refilling his coffee. She frowns, looking at the bowl in front of her.

“Can you wait like, five minutes? I just need to get these ready to chill.” She says, gesturing to the bowl. He nods, watching as she zips around the kitchen as if she’d grown up in the kitchen. He wasn’t sure why she’d been up baking so early, but he was determined to help her. As much as he avoided sleep, he knew it wasn’t exactly healthy. Probably shouldn’t encourage his little sister to do the same thing.

---

Bruce walks into the theatre room, frowning when he sees Dick and Jason, but no Marinette. That was odd. She hadn’t been in her room either. He decides to check the kitchen next, knowing his daughter enjoyed baking. Walking into the kitchen, he’s surprised to find it empty as well. Glancing at the coffee pot, he notices it’s nearly empty, but still on. Which meant Tim had been up to get coffee recently. Flipping the pot off, he turns and starts towards the Batcave. Perhaps Tim knew where Marinette was. Walking down his usual entrance, he’s unsurprised to see Tim working at the computer. What he hadn’t expected, however, was Marinette curled up in a chair next to Tim, sleeping.

“Tim?” Bruce calls, catching his son’s attention.

“Oh, hey B.” Tim says, not looking away from the screen.

“Is there a reason Marinette is sleeping in a chair instead of her bed?” He asks. He knew she had a nightmare last night, but he had assumed she’d fallen asleep with Jason and Dick in the theatre room. And if she hadn’t, he’d at least expected she’d return to her own room. Not the Batcave. While some of his sons preferred the cave to any of the other rooms in the manor, he’d hoped his daughter was different. That he had at least one child willing to live in the house instead of the cave.

“I’m sure there is. And I’m going to find out.” Tim says, leaving Bruce with more questions than answers.

“Okay. How long have the two of you been down here?” He asks. Tim stops typing, glancing down at his watch before looking back up to the screen.

“Little under two hours.” He replies, jerking his head towards Marinette. “Think that’s also the only sleep she’s got all night, so probably best to leave her for a little longer.” Bruce frowns at this. Sure, he knew that she had a nightmare last night. He knew it was bad enough that she had sobbed into his arms. But had she really avoided sleep after that? Was it really that bad? She didn’t want to talk to him about it last night, but maybe she’d talk later today. He wouldn’t push her, lord knows that any child of his isn’t going to take well to that, but maybe she’d talk to

him now. Hopefully the nightmare would now be far enough from her mind that she could talk.

---

Marinette gasps, sitting up so quickly that she manages to flip the chair she’d fallen asleep in. She hisses in pain as her head bounces off the stone floor. So much for being the holder of the Miraculous of good luck.

“Did you just fall out of your chair?” Tim asks. She glances up at her brother, who had apparently left for another cup of coffee.

“No?” She says, smiling awkwardly from the floor, where her limbs are currently entangled with the chair. Tim shakes his head and snorts, sipping from his mug.

“Whatever you say Mari.” He says, walking over and sitting back in his chair, going back to his work on the computer.

“What time is it?” She asks, carefully untangling herself and getting off the ground.

“Mmm, around nine.” He says, not looking away from the screen.

“In the morning?” She asks, knowing it was completely possible for Tim to have worked nonstop in the cave.

“Yes.” He says, shaking his head. “B wants to talk to you, by the way.” He adds.

“Oh. Okay. Am I in trouble?” She asks, suddenly self conscious. It was the first time anyone in her family had had to deal with one of her nightmares. Usually, Tikki was the one to wake her up and calm her down before she attracted an akuma.

“Of course not.” He reassures her. “He’s probably in his study.”

“Oh, good, okay. Well, I’m gonna go talk to him. Please take a break, Tim. I know you haven’t eaten anything today. You can’t run on coffee and spite, trust me, I’ve tried.” Marinette says, grinning at her brother before using the tunnel that connected straight to the study. She still hadn’t figured out the many rooms of the manor, but the maze-like setup of the Batcave was something that she’d figured out easily. Taking a breath, she knocks on her side of the Grandfather clock, waiting for a response.

“Come in.” Her dad says. She walks in, grinning at the exasperated look on his face.

“Hi dad!” She says cheekily, plopping down onto one of the couches.

“Is there a reason you didn’t use the actual door?” He asks. She shrugs.

“Why get lost in the manor when I can just use the secret tunnels from the cave?” She asks. He sighs.

“I still don’t understand that, but alright. How are you feeling this morning?” He asks, his face turning serious. She smiles, but it’s forced now. She didn’t want to talk about this. She really didn’t want to talk about this with her dad, who would surely never give her permission to date Adrien if he knew. Not that she needed permission, but it would make it easier not having her dad against her.

“I’m fine!” She says, keeping her plastered on smile.

“I talked to Tim this morning.” He says, instead of calling her out. Well crap.

“Oh really?” She asks, silently cursing Tim. Or, wanting to anyway. But she wouldn’t because she knew he meant well.

“He said that you hadn’t slept last night. I know you didn’t want to talk to me about your nightmare last night, but maybe now-”

“No. No, I’m fine. It’s fine.” She rambles, cutting him off. He frowns.

“Marinette, I’m not going to be angry with you if that’s what you’re worried about. You had a nightmare, and it has clearly left you shaken.” He says. She huffs, running her fingers through her hair exasperatedly.

“I just- I can’t tell you. If I tell you, you’re going to be mad at someone and I don’t want you to be mad at them.” She explains, wincing as his face darkens.

“Did someone hurt you?” He asks, his voice the coldest she’s ever heard.

“Dad-”

“Did someone hurt you?” He asks again, cutting her off as he stands up.

“Not on purpose.” She insists, wringing her hands together.

“It doesn’t matter if it was on purpose, Marinette! This person hurt you badly enough that you had a nightmare about it. Bad enough that you were sobbing, that you couldn’t go back to sleep. I don’t care if it was on purpose or not, Marinette, that person does not deserve to be anywhere near you.” Her dad says, his face and voice hard as stone.

“But Dad, it really wasn’t his fault-”

“His?”

“Yes, Dad, he was akumatized.” She says, watching as he unclenches his fist and collapses back into his chair. “So it wasn’t his fault.” She adds, frowning as he shakes his head.

“Why didn’t-” He pauses, seemingly recollecting himself. “Why isn’t there a story on it?” He asks. She frowns.

“Story on what?” She asks.

“A story on Adrien being akumatized? Why isn’t there any record of it?” He asks. She jerks back like she was slapped. How did he- world’s greatest detective. Of course.

“He doesn’t know.” She says softly.

“How?”

“One of the Miraculous users is Bunnix. She holds the Miraculous of time, and is able to time travel. It was about a year ago, she came and grabbed me and took me to the future.” She explains, avoiding looking at him. She didn’t want to talk about this. It was the talk that she’d been avoiding, no matter how many times Tikki assured her she could talk to her dad about it. Or her brothers. But she couldn’t. She didn’t want to. But now she had to.

“In the future, Adrien and I had been a couple. He found out my identity as Ladybug, and I’m not exactly sure how it came to it, but for some reason, Hawkmoth targeted us. He was able to akumatize Adrien while he was Chat Noir. He….he became Chat Blanc. The complete opposite of Chat Noir.” She says, watching her hands as they shake in her lap. He doesn’t say anything, so she continues. “He still had the power of destruction but with the help of the akuma...it was awful. His power became unlimited. He blew up the moon.”

“The moon?” He asks.

“Yes.” She says. “He also flooded Paris, destroyed the Eiffel tower, and killed both Hawkmoth and future me. That was why Bunnix needed me. I had to fix it. But she wasn’t able to stay with me, so I had to fight him alone. And I didn’t know that he was Adrien then, but he was still my partner and he kept calling me Marinette and he told me that it was our fault. That our love did it to the world. And it hurt, Dad. It hurt that my best friend destroyed the world because of me. Because of us.” She says, voice breaking as tears fall.

“Marinette, honey, look at me.” He says softly. She looks up at him, surprised to see that he had moved to kneel in front of her. “That was not your fault. And you should not have had to go through that by yourself. That was wrong of Bunnix. It was not your fault.” He reassures her. She lets out a sigh of relief, throwing her arms around him and crying into his chest just like she did last night.

“Father, have you seen- what did you do to Marinette?” Damian asks, barging into the room. Marinette snorts, her cries quickly becoming laughter as she catches a glimpse of her little brother’s face. His usual scowl had become full of anger before flickers of confusion flit across as she laughs.

“I’m sorry, petit oiseau. I’m okay now. I just had a nightmare last night and Dad asked about it.” She explains, knowing that Damian hated being out of the loop.

“Tt. Very well. I was trying to find you to see if you would like to accompany me to the park with Titus. Alfred said that I cannot go alone, and you are the least annoying possible companion.” He says. Marinette smiles. Ever since she’d been hit by the de-aging akuma, Damian had wanted to spend time with her and Titus together. She assumed it was the best way he knew to bond with her without sparring (which her Dad had banned for the moment unless he or Dick were able to supervise, honestly you break one little display case).

“I’d love to. Could we come back to this later?” She asks, glancing at her Dad who had moved to lean against his desk. He sighs, but nods.

“Yes. Keep your phones on, both of you.” He instructs. She nods, grinning before pulling her brother after her. They couldn’t keep Titus waiting, after all.

Tag list: @maribat-bdbwm @stainedglassm @laurcad123 @vixen-uchiha @liquid-luck-00 @jayjayspixiepop @jjmjjktth @mizzy-pop @trippingovermyfeet @queenz-z @thepaceperson @iloontjeboontje @waiting247 @toodaloo-kangaroo @ritacrow-blog @deathssilentapproach-blog @kittenmywaythrulife @nerd-nowandforever @tazanna-blythe @jaybird-and-co @jumpingjoy82

133 notes · View notes

consumeconstantly · 4 years

Text

Bring Me To The Precipice of Victory

1| 2 | 3(you are here) | 4 | next

Summary: When Batman departs— just for a short time, just to patch things up in Gotham— things go horribly, horribly wrong in Paris.

He doesn’t know if he can come back from realizing that Marinette and Ladybug are one and the same (and that his daughter has died more times than he can count.) (all biodad bruce are posted in chronological order but can be read as stand alones)

______________________________________________

The moment of peace, of solidarity, that Batman shares with Ladybug up on that rooftop at night means the world.

After a minute or two, Ladybug pulls back, tear tracks down the sides of her face, eye and nose red. She takes another minute of silence,hugging herself in the muggy Parisian air. When she next opens her eyes, Batman can almost imagine that Ladybug never cried at all.

But he knows that's not true. Ladybug seemed so fragile in his arms. He can imagine— he can imagine Dick in her place, broken over Jason’s death. Tim losing his parents. All of his children facing insurmountable odds with no team by their side. Alone.

Ladybug is not alone, but functionally, she may as well be. He’s watched the fights. He’s analyzed them. Ladybug is always, always the leader. She strategizes with Ryuko and Viperion, but Ladybug is who everybody looks to for an answer when things don’t work out the way they want them to. She’s the one with the plan, the backup plan, the out. She’s the one who swoops in to save the day.

She’s also the one who has racked up the most hours on the battlefield. Even Chat Noir, her partner, only has three quarters of the hours that she’s put in. For most of the other members of her team, she puts in double, sometimes even triple of what they do. Over the course of six years, there have been a little under two thousand battles, lasting from under an hour to over five hours. Ladybug has shown up for every single one, without fail. That’s not even counting the patrols that they do; although Ladybug is given a lot of flack for not patrolling as often as Chat Noir, there’s a fundamental difference in how they patrol. Ladybug is methodical, Chat Noir is volatile.

He’s not a bad superhero when it comes down to battle, but the two of them are fundamentally different. Ladybug sees her time as a superhero as a duty. Chat Noir seems to view it as a time to unwind— and while that’s worrying, considering the information he’s gathered on the Miraculous Team so far points to the majority of them beings teens or young adults— it’s not what is needed to deal with the Paris situation.

Perhaps one of the easiest ways to see these differences is during patrol. Chat Noir uses patrol time almost seems to be an outlet for stress. He entices whoever he’s on patrol with to race to random places in Paris with no rhyme or reason. Whenever he comes across crime, he stops it, but Ladybug— Ladybug searches for crime.

Ladybug has a team and she trusts them with her life, but she cannot trust them to be responsible. That is perhaps the worst possible thing that can happen. And through the videos that he’s watched, it’s clear that the hours she puts in do affect her, and fairly heavily.

Whoever she is, she’s young. Too young to be in battle untrained, because they are untrained— despite being in the field for years, all of their basic form lacks and tells anybody with an experienced eye that they’ve never had formal training in martial arts.

When Batman and Ladybug leave the roof, they leave on a better note than where they started. Batman is still upset that Tom and Sabine are dead, but he cannot attribute it solely to Ladybug’s negligence. He admires the young heroine for rising to the occasion when there was nobody else to help. He has no doubt that with the resources and training that he can provide him and his operatives already on the case, Hawkmoth will be revealed in no time at all.

He’s right, but in the worst possible way.

It’s largely a mistake on hiss part-- he gets a notification that the Joker broke out of Arkham again, and Hawkmoth and Pavona are missing for the time being. Though Ladybug has made a mistake in not taking Pavona out immediately, she and her team have won every akuma and sentimonster battle. The logical course of action is to go where the most danger is.

Bruce does not have any predictive powers. There is no way for him to know what’s going to happen. But when he and his team finally catch the Joker and put him away again-- a feat that takes just a little under twenty four hours, extreme concentration, and a good number of injuries-- Batman finally gets a chance to breathe. The adrenaline from facing off against the Joker’s latest scheme fades. Batman reclines in a chair as Alfred binds his wounds and passes him pain relieving pills while he gets stitches in his abdomen.

He checks the news in Paris.

He almost drops the device that he’s using to view the news.

Marinette’s existence has been hidden from his family. With Dick, he was more concerned about his existence as Robin, rather than informing him that he had a sister. As soon as he started contemplating bringing up Marinette, Batman and Robin had a bad break. Then Jason came along, troubled and angry. Bruce didn’t want to introduce Marinette into the mix then because he was volatile.

Jason died due to Batman’s incompetence. Bruce grieved the loss of his ward; Batman was never allowed to mourn the loss of his second Robin.

Tim felt unworthy as the only child Bruce didn’t pick up off the streets, and Damian-- well, Damian was Damian. First he had a superiority complex the size of the Grand Canyon, and once he got accustomed to how they handled things in the Wayne Manor-- though Tim would argue that Damian is still not used to this kind of lifestyle-- he overcompensated every single mission and needed a remedial course on How to Interact With Other Humans 101. Add the overarching concern of Marinette being exposed to his vigilante life style and being unprepared for it, and he was never able to tell his children that he had another biological kid. A daughter.

When the news that Sabine and Tom died reached his ears, he told everybody he had business in Paris without elaborating what. With Wayne Enterprises opening a Paris branch of their R&D specialising in European artifacts, it was easy to draw connections that weren’t there.

“Bruce, you need to relax. Business in Paris can be dealt with later, you need to take the time to heal,” Tim says.

A clip in his shoulder from a bullet, knife wounds on his torso and legs, a sprained wrist. Whatever chemical experiment the Joker got his hands out still pumping through his veins. “I need to go-- it’s important--”

The pain relievers Alfred gave him earlier were also a sedative.

Tim catches him before he passes out.

He wakes up three hours late through sheer force of will.

“Paris!” Bruce jolts upright, still in costume, lying prone on a medical cot in the Batcave.

The first thing that catches his eyes is the red and black flying across the screens.

Ladybug.

His kids are all watching the screens with abject horror.

“Is this,” Tim wets his lips. “The business trip that you were on?”

Bruce drags himself out of bed, adrenaline washing out any residual pain. He doesn’t have the capacity to respond, he needs to get to the zeta tube, he needs to get to Paris, Ladybug is bleeding, the city is in shambles, and Marinette--

One of the news sites up on the screen declares the arrondissements that are obliterated. The one that houses Tom & Sabine’s Boulangerie is amongst their number. An approximate death toll fills the static.

-- Marinette is likely among those lost. He has lost another child due to his inaction. Due to his inability to push through, to look forwards and predict the future and the consequences of his actions. Marinette is another Jason, but if Ladybug doesn’t get it together, she’ll be gone permanently. And Ladybug is little more than a child. She can’t handle it, not by herself, not with her team. She needs an experienced hero, and Batman will be there for her, be the one leading the charge against Hawkmoth as the civilians hide in their homes and pray for her Miracle Cure to reverse the damage.

Dick places a hand on his shoulder. Bruce tries to shrug it off, but his fingers dig into the place where the bullet clipped his flesh. The pain is just a reminder that if he does not get to Paris now, there will be thousands-- no, millions-- more who feel this pain. How did Marinette die? Was it an akuma? Did the rubble of one of the destroyed buildings fall on her? Did Ladybug even try to protect her?

“I need to go,” Bruce growls.

“You can’t. While you were out, the majority of the Justice League prohibited all travel via zeta tubes. Nobody can get into Paris right now.”

Bruce knocks Dick’s hand off his shoulder and turns to his eldest. At the very least, Dick and the rest of his children look solemn. Damian’s gaze is fixed to one of the screens that shows Ladybug. “A city is in danger, millions of lives are at risk, Marinette--”

His daughter is dead. He can’t bring himself to say it out loud.

Standing by idly is the last thing he’ll let himself do.“Who put out the order? I’ll get them to reverse it.”

Dick moves so he’s between the zeta tube and Bruce. “B, you don’t understand. If you go to Paris right now, you’ll get akumatized.”

“I can handle my emotions.”

Jason points at the upper right section of screens that’s replaying past footage. “I wouldn’t bet Paris’ survival on it. Not when more level headed superheroes got on the scene first and failed. They really don’t need any heavy hitters getting akumatized. Not when Superman put three members of their team out of commission.”

Superman arrived on the scene first; it took a matter of seconds for him to get akumatized. He was responsible for razing down three arrondissements in no time flat. Ladybug had to call for a Lucky Charm in order to get her hands on some kryptonite, which forced her to recoup after her time ran out.

Black Canary arrived next. Then Red Tornado.

Both were akumatized in mere minutes.

“After Red Tornado got akumatized, Wonder Woman led the charge to put the rest of the zeta tubes on lockdown,” Duke says, grim. “All we can do now is hope that these Parisian superheroes can pull off a win.”

Bruce stumbles over to get a better view. He remembers Ladybug, small and slight in his arms. A child, crying over the loss of her pseudo parents.

A warrior, bloody and bruised and broken.

She is one of the last ones standing.

King Monkey and an ox themed hero both died at Superman’s hands. The former got in the way of his laser beams, the latter a victim of super strength and getting thrown through two buildings and having their necks snap at an unsightly angle. Chat Noir was also sent hurtling through the air, and the only reason he was still alive was because Ladybug alighted from the sky and grabbed him before he got sent through a building in his unconscious state. Black Canary came shortly after, apparently informed of the Superman situation and carrying kryptonite.

She didn’t last for long either. Almost immediately after helping Ladybug and Ryuko bind Superman in such a way that he couldn’t escape,

Pegasus got hit by Black Canary’s sound waves and Chat Noir’s residual injuries from his fight with Superman forced him into a state of unconsciousness. Queen Bee and Carapace were able to pull off a win against Black Canary, but not without serious injuries. Ryuko faced off against Red Tornado alone, which normally would have been a thing of awe, but in the grander scheme of things, was a huge issue, as without her, the Miraculous Team functionally lost all of their heavy hitters. Rena Rouge and several Miraculous users that clearly had never been in battle before were the ones left to hold their own against the scores of akumatized Parisians.

The only ones left to hunt down Hawkmoth and Pavona were Ladybug and Viperion, and the former was already on her third use of Lucky Charm.

Ladybug pulls out her communicator, dodging an attack.

“Can we get sound on this?” Jason grips the closest table.

Dick shakes his head. “Zatara says there’s already enough interference just trying to get these images. And for some reason, Dr. Fate refuses to get involved with any of this.”

Bruce’s phone rings. He doesn’t pick it up on the first ring, too focused on the ongoing battles. He does take his phone out of his pocket to silence it the next time, but when he presses the sound off, an image comes through.

“Bruce.” Ladybug’s image comes through crystal clear, and it doesn’t make him feel any better. Ladybug, blood dripping from her mouth, costume torn open, hair burnt, wild eyed.

He opens his mouth to speak, but the image goes blurry as she moves to avoid several attacks pointed towards her.

“Before I go, I--”

“Watch out, LB!” Bruce lifts his eyes to the screen that displays Ladybug and Viperion in battle. The spotted heroine gets pushed out of the way of a laser, but the snake themed hero takes the hit.

The ambient noise coming from his phone is strong; he can hear blades clashing in the background as Chat Noir, already on his last legs attempts to hold off Darkblade. Screaming from civilians, a strangled sob from Ladybug. “Viperion.”

Ladybug comes back into view. Blue eyes filled with rage.

“If this doesn’t end in our favor, you need to make sure that Hawkmoth and Pavona do not acquire both the Ladybug and Black Cat Miraculous. Do whatever it takes to prevent that from happening.” She blinks, retreats into herself, and Bruce wonders if he’s seeing the girl behind the mask.

“And If I don’t get to see you again--” If I’m dead, the words go unspoken, “I really did want the chance -- I-- you’re a good man. A good father. Your daughter-- she loves you. She really, really does. Stay safe.”

The transmission cuts off. On the screen in front of him, Ladybug closes her communicator, closes Viperion’s open eyes, and strides to the epicenter of the akumas. Blue fire flashes in her irises, and for a moment, she’s staring directly at the screen. And Bruce knows those eyes. He knows them.

The next second, all of the computers simultaneously die.

Bruce is numb. No-- no.

He is nothing.

All his children-- no, not all his children, Marinette is missing, Marinette is Ladybug, and she’s out on a field that he can’t see grappling with magic forces strong enough to incapacitate Justice League members like their powers and abilities are inconsequential-- stare at him.

“That was… Ladybug?” Tim’s brow furrows. It’s clear that he’s thinking up a hundred different reasons why Ladybug and Batman are connected, why he’s the last person she calls before going into a battle that could very well cost her her life.

“My daughter.” The words are ash on his lips. An existence he’s never acknowledged. Not out loud. Saying it brings a sense of finality to the room. An impending death. “My daughter.”

Nobody asks how long he’s known or when he met her or why he’s never brought it up before. Everything is fuzzy. Floating.

For a while, there’s silence.

“Zatara says there’s too much interference to get the picture back up,” Dick opens his messages, frowning.

Damian still stares at the screen Ladybug looked at directly, frozen.

Bruce picks himself up and moves. He may not be able to use the zeta tubes, but he has a private jet and a license, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t do something.

It takes two hours too long to get to Paris. He shaved five hours off the flight length due to superior technology, and another hour and a half off due to sheer force of will.

The landing is not a pretty thing, but Paris is already in shambles, and there’s no way that the ATC will approve his landing, so Bruce picks out the flattest looking spot of rubble before his jet meets the ground.

According to Tim and Duke, who stayed behind in case this turned out to be an attack spanning multiple cities, the battle ended mere minutes before they landed. Dick manages to get Zatara to broadcast the image in the cockpit of the jet, and on the screen lay three prone bodies. Gabriel Agreste, whose body type fits that of Hawkmoth, Lila, and a third that Bruce does not recognize.

A bone sticks out of Marinette’s arm, the connected hand crushed and hanging limp. The opposing ankle is twisted almost fully backwards. She is covered in blood and ash and filth. There is no victory in her eyes. Only weariness.

In her good hand, she holds her yoyo.

She raises her eyes skywards-- the roof of the Agreste mansion is blown clean off-- blinks slowly, and throws the yoyo into the air.

“Miraculous Cure,” her lips read.

The corpses in Paris rise from the dead. Rubble reforms into buildings. The ashy haze that covered the city disappears.

Ladybug looks like she wants to disappear, too.

She collapses, instead.

Nobody is there to catch her when she drops to the floor.

@biodad-bruce-month

Maribat tag list(to be added onto this pls send me an ask/dm): @our-precipreciousss @my-dear-friend-anxiety

Who Are You (and what will you become) tag list (to be added here just comment): @anjuschiffer @theunquiet-dead @certainmuffinbagelcalzone @cresentmo0n @allulily @myazael @zalladane @rebecarojas07 @keepingupwiththemalfoys @frieddonutsweets @all-mights-asscheeks @thornalchemist23 @trippingovermyfeet @jiso-lee @redscarlet95 @ira-sairain @screechingflapbiscuitpeach @ramos123 @cutechip @theunquiet-dead @sleep-deprived-aroace @enternalempires @lilkymilky @woe-is-me0 @officiallydarkgeek @miyla-lokidottir @queencommonsense @demonicbusiness

mb for not doing tag list right away i forgot i had these cued up already

#bio!dad bruce wayne month 2020 #maribat #what are dates #what's going in order #time? i don't know her #i'm always late #marinette dupain cheng #bruce wayne #bio!dad bruce #angst

417 notes · View notes

danny-chase · 3 years

Text

Dick Grayson Week Day 4

Prompt: Bruce hits Dick and doesn’t get away with it

Summary/Notes:

A Spyral fixit where the family finds out about Nightwing 30. Perspectives are from Tim and Jason, but Steph, Cass, and Damian make an appearance. Quotes taken from Forever Evil 7 and 8, and Nightwing 30. Tw for swearing, angst and domestic/child abuse (because canon is terrible and I can’t leave it the way it is).

Edit: I have an AO3 account now yay! Read here

“I’ll be right back.” Tim chirped as he left to pull some files out of his room. He could feel his friends’ gazes lingering on him as he left. He had to suppress an eye roll. He was fine. Your pseudo-dad/adopted-father-before-you-emancipated-yourself loses his memory and suddenly everyone thinks there’s something wrong with you. Figures. Bruce was happier this way. And maybe, one day, he’d be able to get to know him again. Maybe not as sorta-father and son. But Bruce 2.0 liked volunteering with kids, running charity events. Maybe they could be business partners, or coworkers. It wasn’t like last time. But that didn’t mean Cassie, Bart and Kon weren’t worried. No matter how many times he tried to explain, they wouldn’t listen. It was better this way. Bruce was happier without them. Without him. It stung at first sure, but he was over it. He could handle it. Even if the knot in his stomach told him otherwise.

His fingers brushed the lines on the hallway as he strode through Titan’s Tower. The halls seemed so much smaller than they used to be. Logically, he knew they were the same size. But they weren’t the same walls as when he’d first visited. And those hadn’t even been the first wall either. “We’ve had to rebuild this place like at least a million times.” Dick had told him. The knot tightened. Don’t think about it, he reprimanded himself. He’d been having a nice afternoon. It was relaxing, staying with his friends. But he couldn’t walk through the halls without feeling like a trespasser. This was Dick’s team. This was his home away from home. Who was he kidding? He was no Dick Grayson. Dick’s friends used to look to him for guidance, for advice, for help with problems, personal and business related. Tim used to look to him for guidance, advice and help. Stop thinking about him, he tried again. Forget the Crime Syndicate. Forget the funeral. Don’t stress, repress. He paused for a moment, stared aimlessly out the window, took a few deep breaths, cleared his mind and continued on his way.

Climbing the stairs, he decided it was better to use his mental faculties to go through the case he was working on. Jason had called two days ago asking about some of his old informants in Gotham, Penguin was apparently moving back onto the scene and reorganizing the structure of some of the newer gangs. Cleaning house. Informants were switching names, following their own protocols. Bruce had written some contingency in a classified file somewhere. The issue was where. The damn batcomputer had like a billion files on it. And Barbara knew the system, but was busy coordinating for the JLA and had put them on “Do not Disturb” mode for the foreseeable future. He could write a program to search for it. Stupid Bruce and his stupid files that he’d kept secret from them. “It was on a need to know basis.” He could almost here the defensiveness in Bruce’s voice if he tried hard enough. He nearly face planted as he miscalculated the number of stairs. Maybe they should just go back to their old Young Justice base. Or wait till the building inevitably explodes again and just make it better. That would be fun. Designing a Teen Titans base with slides and escalators. Bart would be thrilled. Bart could probably build it in 5 minutes. Dick wouldn’t approve, his brain felt the need to remind him. Tim nearly huffed. Well Dick is de-.

He abruptly lost his train of thought. There was noise coming from his room. Someone was sniffing, was someone crying in his room? Who was even in his room? Everyone was downstairs. Cissie and Steph were visiting in the lounge, Greta left a few days ago, the new kids were in the gym getting a feel for the equipment. The hell? His heart pounded a bit louder as he silently slunk towards his rooms. If Dick decided to haunt him from beyond the grave this was not cool. The lights flickered. Tim nearly screamed. He could feel cold sweat gathering in his palms, his heart racing, thoughts pounding in his skull. It’s just one of Bart’s pranks, no one can get in without access. He slid next to his door and pulled up the camera feed on his glove’s embedded computer. They weren’t in lockdown, but it couldn’t hurt to check. Few clicks here, few taps there and…Damian? Tim burst through the door, half relieved and fully confused.

“What are you doing here?” Tim half yelled, Damian startling on the bed as he burst into his room. Tim flicked the lights on as the gremlin crossed his arms in response. Tim shut the soundproof door, no need to bother Kon with this.

“I was given access to the tower as well.” He stated monotonously. Tim frowned; something was off. Damian didn’t just show up in his room. Come to think of it, he hadn’t seen the kid in weeks. Not since Bruce went all amnesiac on them. Where was he even staying. Damian shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. There were dark circles under his eyes, he was paler than usual, but flushed, his eyes bright. Had he been crying in here? “Quit gawking at me, Drake.” He spat, jolting Tim back into reality.

He almost opened his mouth to throw some insult back. Almost. He saw the kid’s lip tremble just so slightly, and he bit his tongue. The kid’s hands were shaking. “What’s up?” He replied cautiously. Keeping the demon brat in line wasn’t in his job description. But the kid had had a rough couple months. Dying, coming back to Dick being dead, Bruce losing his memory. He could help with whatever this was and-

“Grayson is alive.”

-send the kid back to Alfred, he knew the kid better than he did. He had his pets at the manor to keep him company, maybe he’d see if Jon would be willing to have a sleepover or something. Spring break was coming up soon, maybe he could take a trip out to Kansas-

“Drake!” Damian was waving a hand in front of his face. Tim blinked a few times. He hadn’t said…had he? That wasn’t right Dick was-

“Richard is alive, I can prove it.” There was desperation in the kid’s voice, water in his eyes. The trash can was filled with tissues, it had been empty when he left. His shirt was on inside out. Tim inhaled sharply. Fuck. Tim had been there. He’d done that. Denied reality. Gone on a wild fairy tale goose chase. Chased insane dreams. Sure, it had worked. But this was different. They had a body. We had a body then, his mind helpfully supplied. There was no real evidence. It had worked hadn’t it? Denying Bruce’s death out of reality? But Dick couldn’t be alive. Bruce had seen him die. Clark saw Bruce die, his brain again helpfully supplied. Tim studied Damian’s face carefully. He looked two steps away from a mental breakdown. Was that how I looked? He wasn’t exactly looking in any mirrors at the time. Dick had try to talk him back down, that was the wrong move. He’d doubled down. But Damian wasn’t him and Tim had no idea what to do. Damian stared at him, studying his face carefully. Tim could feel his palms sweating again, when had he started clenching his fists? His brain was ticking through options, tell Damian he believed him – high chance of heartbreak, low chance of kid running off and doing something stupid on his own. Try and talk him down – still some heartbreak, but can mitigate, medium to high chance of him running off. Call Alfred – should he really do that though? The kid came to him. Alfred’s busy dealing with amnesiac Bruce. Call someone else? Why did the kid come to him in the first place? Damian hated him, he wouldn’t come to him unless he was really sure, or really desperate. Does he think I can replicate what happened with Bruce? Time seemed to move like molasses. Tim swallowed. Now or never.

“I believe you.” He replied. Damian’s eyebrows furrowed, but his shoulders fell ever so slightly, and he rocked back on his heels, uncrossing his arms and leaning into a less defensive stance. Mixed results. He prayed he sounded convincing enough. If he was going this route, he had to go all the way. It didn’t matter that he’d seen the body. It didn’t matter that Bruce saw. He needed to be on Damian’s side with this one. Just like he’d needed somebody on his side back then. Even if it was a crazy side. Even if it was a leave everyone behind and run around on a whim side. Even if it doesn’t work out, at least the kid would have someone to catch him at the end. Why did it have to be the brat though?

“You do not. But you will.” Damian said solemnly, a bit of an edge to his voice. He pulled a laptop out of a bag on the floor and hopped up on the foot of Tim’s bed. Tim quietly settled next to him, careful to not touch him. He was careful. The kid didn’t appear to be looking for a fight, but you never know. Tim glanced at the laptop screen.

“DAMIAN NO WHAT THE-” He screamed. Damian nearly leapt of the bed. His face turned red.

“-tt- Grow up Drake, this is for research purposes only, that is not-” He started mumbling.

“You’re on DICK GRAYSON THIRST POST WEBSITES for RESEARCH!” Tim half screamed, attempting to lower his voice. Damian flushed harder.

“SHUT UP DRAKE!” He countered. Tim took deep breaths. Dear god, he needed to bleach his eyes after this. He did not need to know these threads existed. Fucking reddit. Humanity has gone too far. There were 20k followers. He peeked over again, the latest posts were from this morning. His mouth was dry. These people were lusting over his dead brother. It was sick, it was fucking disgusting it was-

“Wait what’s that picture?” Tim asked.

“-tt- If you would allow me to explain instead of losing your head, I can show you.” Damian grumbled. He clicked on the picture to enlarge it. “I’ve run the calculations, biometrically, the body shape is a 99.97% match.” Tim let out a low whistle. It wasn’t much to go on. You couldn’t see the figure’s face, he was turned away from the camera. Whoever took it was definitely aiming for a certain portion of the man’s body.

“Have you talked to the poster?” Tim inquired. Damian nodded.

“This subreddit is dedicated to…” Damian made a revolted looking face, “capturing casual images of Grayson in unsavory positions.” He nearly squirmed as he finished the sentence. “I was attempting to research the details of Grayson’s perceived passing and came across this website.” That was a different kind of trauma in Tim’s opinion. “The image caught my eye. He has fans in Ireland, that is where it was taken. These fans are apparently experts at picking him out.” Damian scrolled through some earlier posts to prove his point. “It is odd.” He added pointedly. Tim’s mind was racing. It was hardly evidence. It could have been anyone. But he was right. The perverts were good. They even had a few of Dick in disguise doing undercover work, none of his face of course. But Dick couldn’t be in Ireland. Tim went to the funeral. Bruce went to the funeral. Bruce saw Dick die. Bruce wouldn’t lie about something like that. He never told you about the Joker. His mind supplied. No. Bruce wouldn’t. Bruce couldn’t. He wouldn’t put them through that grief. Not after Damian. Not after all the lies. He promised he wouldn’t lie to them like that. The picture couldn’t be real. But Damian kept scrolling. There were more. In multiple countries. It couldn’t be possible. There was no way. People joked his brother’s butt was iconic but this was ridiculous.

“Drake?” Damian sounded so cautious. Tim was confused. The pictures all looked so real. So accurate. Could they be photoshopped? That could explain it.

“Did you get any of the original files?” He asked much too hastily to appear calm. A smile flicked on Damian’s face for a millisecond.

“You believe me.” Damian stated, half disbelievingly. Tim bit his lip. He didn’t want to. He couldn’t. If he did, then he didn’t believe Bruce. Damian cleared his throat. “I have already examined a few of the original photographs. Their phones were laughably easy to hack.” He looked smug for a mentally unhinged eleven-year-old. “They do not appear to be tampered with.” Tim could feel his heart thudding in his chest. Dick couldn’t be alive. It wasn’t possible. He saw the body. Bruce was in the cave for a week going over it. Not allowing anyone in. No… Fuck…

“What did you do?” He muttered under his breath. Damian looked at him inquisitively, a determination burning in his eyes. Tim hadn’t seen any of the proof himself. And he believed Bruce unquestioningly. That was the opposite of what the man had taught him. But there was still something off. He looked searchingly at Damian. “Dick wouldn’t do that to us.” He couldn’t. Dick would never do something like that. He would tell them. He wasn’t like Bruce, he was reliable. Dick didn’t keep secrets like that. He wouldn’t fake his own death and leave them to fend for themselves. Not after Damian died. After everything they’d lost, after everything he’d lost. Dick wouldn’t do that to him. Damian’s eyes flickered toward the ground, and he frowned.

“Maybe he can’t tell us.” Is all he had to offer. It seemed like a sore spot. Tim didn’t push it. It was probably driving the kid insane. Dick, galivanting across the world, not checking in, not coming back to tell them he was okay? The odds were astronomically low. Dick was a constant. He was their brother. He was a Robin. Robins don’t do that to each other. Steph did, his brain helpfully supplied. But that wasn’t Steph’s fault. Tim dug his nails into his palms. He needed to know. He needed proof. He needed to see the footage, go over the evidence. He didn’t doubt Dick, but his mind was itching. He wouldn’t be able to sleep unless he knew for sure. Hell, Damian probably couldn’t either.

“Look, here’s the plan.” Tim said, his mind racing. Damian stared at him intently. Wow the kid really was desperate if he was willing to listen to him. “I’ll tell Kon I’m taking you home, that you need some help on a case, then will slip out. Maybe, maybe someone close to the family is compromised.” He said, a bit unsure. That could explain the lie. If there was one. Please let there be one. Damian nodded, stuffing his laptop back into his backpack. Tim crossed the room and grabbed the door handle.

A barely audible “Thanks.” reached his ears as he flipped off the lights.

Jason groaned as he checked his messages. He really didn’t want to go through the batcomputer files. It would be faster if Tim did it, plus he had a lower chance of accidentally messing something up. Not that the file system wasn’t already a disaster. Touch the wrong button and you’re locked in the cave till Alfred realizes something’s wrong.

Tim had stopped responding to his messages two days ago, and well, he couldn’t wait any longer. And so, he found himself zipping through the tunnel systems that led into the cave. It was better to avoid the manner if possible. Happy Bruce wasn’t high on the list of people he wanted to see. That dude was fucking weird. It made him feel weird. It did feel good to cross amnesia off his yearly family bingo though. Now he just needed someone to trip during an interview and he’d break Cass’s winning streak. At the rate they were checking things off, maybe he should start a second batch and make it biannual. That or change the prompts. They were getting predictable.

He rolled to a stop inside the cave, and nearly rolled his eyes seeing the mess of skid marks on the floor. Seriously, tires are expensive, why his siblings couldn’t park like normal human beings was beyond him.

Someone was clacking away on the upper platform. Oh, thank God Tim was probably here, figuring it out before he could mess everything up. Cass poked her head over the railing, Jason cocked an eyebrow at her as he removed his helmet. She grinned and jumped over it, catching the fireman’s pole and sliding down. Someone was going to break an ankle doing that, could he add that to the bingo cards? Stupid non-work related injury was already on there, maybe upgrading it to stupid broken bone would suffice. Dick broke his nose outside Denny’s at 3am last year during a post mission party. Hands down one of the best nights of Jason’s life. Too bad his family members decided to die at least once a year.

“I’m about to win bingo.” Cass whispered as she brushed past his shoulder. That jolted Jason out of his bittersweet thoughts.

“Bullshit.” He growled back, bingo was his this year. She smugly wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

“Sorry brother.” She said sweetly, leaning her head into his shoulder. She let out a long sigh. And then Jason finally remembered that it most the squares weren’t exactly fun.

“Wait, the fuck’s going on?” Fuck, he really didn’t want to deal with this right now. Nobody could have died Dick checked that off, amnesia was gone, Gotham destroyed was gone, natural disaster was checked, Joker breaks out and does dramatic shit was gone too. But that wasn’t a good sigh, that was a ‘I’m so tired of this family sigh’, which could narrow it down a bit. Cass squeezed his shoulder.

“Family secrets.” She admitted, giving him a melancholy look. Jason groaned. This family was the fucking worst. Bruce wasn’t even really part of it right now, who the hell was keeping secrets? Damian. Had to be Damian. Little monster was just like his dad. Fuck. Dick taught the kid better than that. What kind of mess was he in?

Cass took him by the wrist and started dragging him towards the stairs. He resisted briefly as they got to the base. He needed to know. “Who’s is it?” He asked, planting his feet on the ground.

Cass bit her lip, looking extremely uncomfortable. Jason pulled back his arms and crossed them, keeping his expression as neutral as he could, but she could probably read his mood anyways.

“HA. HAHAHA HA. FUCK YOU BRUCE! TAKE THAT SHIT-COMPUTER!”

Jason nearly jumped out of his skin at Tim’s screeching from upstairs, Cass was running up the stairs, not waiting to see if he was coming. Jason sighed. It was going to be on of those days. He took a deep breath and headed up behind her.

Tim was doing a victory dance in front of the computer. Damian was crawling out from under the computer, a shit eating grin on his face. They both looked (and smelled) a mess. Definitely neither had showered in a few days, probably hadn’t slept either.

“Todd, you are just in time to witness our victory over father.” Damian greeted, formal as ever. The brat didn’t even through an insult in there. Must be in a good mood. Well that at least explained who was keeping secrets. Stupid Bruce, keeping secrets even while an amnesiac. Screw him.

“Shall we?” Tim asked, offering a hand to Damian, which shockingly the kid took. The fuck did he miss?!?

“Uh, what the fuck?” He managed to get out. There was cowl footage pulled up on the screen. Cass was pulling chairs over from the table. He tiredly took the seat she offered him.

“Waaaaiiiiiit I have popcorn!” Steph called, pounding down the stairs.

“Steph no!” Tim moaned. “This isn’t a joke!”

“What’s family drama without popcorn?” Steph sung back. Damian huffed. Cass snickered. Jason had to smirk to himself. Dark humor was the best coping mechanism in this family. “Besides you haven’t told us what this is!” She accused. Well at least Jason wasn’t the only one who didn’t know. Tim shifted guilty at the computer, his eyes darting from Damian and then back to the group. Damian responded by huffing and crossing his arms.

“Drake did not ‘want to get your hopes up’.” He began, mimicking Tim’s voice perfectly, “-tt-His concern is unfounded, my research has been impeccable, Gr-” Tim shoved a hand over Damian’s mouth. Damian looked downright murderous.

“Look we want to watch the footage beforehand it might be-” Tim squawked as Cass lunged off the table, hopped over his shoulders and hit play on the batcomputer. “Cass wait!” He got out as the video began to play. Steph grabbed Tim from behind and dragged him into a seat.

The screen showed footage from a first-person perspective, they were walking through a doorway into a large room.

“I’m tired of secrets.” Muttered Cass as she slipped in a chair next to Steph. Damian staid standing, glaring intensely at the screen, looking strangely anguished.

“Hey, kid you can…” The invitation died in his throat. The camera moved forward into the room, revealing a beaten Dick Grayson in the center, hooked to countless machines, suspended in a metal cocoon, only his face and chest peeking out.

“Oh my God.” Came a familiar voice from the screen. A growl reverberated in the cave.

“Well Batman…” Luthor materialized on the right, “…You’ve found Nightwing.” He said, stalking forward.

Something clattered on the floor. The camera was rushing forward. Voices from the cave mixed with voices on the screen.

“Why would you want to watch this!?” shrieked Steph.

“Dick? Everything’s going to be all right. I’m here.” Bruce’s gruff voice sounded oddly strained.

“Shut up Brown!” Came Damian in a high-pitched voice.

“He never showed us the evidence.” Tim’s voice squeaked. “We have to watch till the end?”

“I’m sorry I shut you out. All of you. I didn’t want you getting hurt…I’m going to get you out of this.” Came Bruce’s shaking voice. Jason could feel a lump growing in his throat. He didn’t want to see this.

“Fast-forward?” Cass suggested, her voice equally shaken. Jason could barely see the others in the cave, his eyes were glued to the screen.

“No…You need to…leave.” Came Dick’s horse whisper of a voice. “You need to go…”

Damian made an inhuman noise, which allowed Jason to tear his eyes off the screen.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Muttered Tim. “We can’t fast-forward we need to know what happened.” He forced a sense of determination into his voice. “This is why I didn’t-”

THOOM. The sound rumbled through the cave. Jason jumped out of his seat. The camera whipped around revealing the exit sealed off, with Luthor, Selina, and Bizzarro trapped inside.

“-you guys can still leave.” Tim said shakily.

BA-DEEP. Blared through the speakers. BA-DEEP.

“What is that?” Came Selina’s voice, her usual smooth and silky persona dropped. BA-DEEP.

“It’s a countdown. This isn’t just a fancy pair of handcuffs, Catwoman. It’s a bomb.” Came Lex’s gruff voice. The camera turned again showing a timer counting down from 5 minutes. Jason’s stomach painfully twisted at the reminder of another countdown in another sealed building.

“We’re staying.” He managed to get out. He might have heard noises of affirmation.

WHAM. “The door. The walls. Why can’t we break through them?” Came Luthor’s voice.

“This cell was designed to hold Doomsday, Luthor.” Came Bruce’s voice again. The camera showed him messing with the panel. BA-DEEP.

“Is the countdown monitoring his heart?” Selina asked from seemingly far away.

“Yes.” Boomed Bruce’s voice. BA-DEEP.

“Why?” Replied Selina.

“The detonator is hooked into it.” Bruce responded. Jason’s heart sunk. “He died in a death trap. There was no way out.” Bruce had told him before the funeral. BA-DEEP.

“Batman…The bomb…” Dick whispered. BA-DEEP. Jason spared another glance at Damian. There were tears beginning to form in his eyes, but he stared, glued to the screen all the same. “…It only disams…If my heart stops.” Jason could feel his chest tightening painfully. “I die…or we all die.” BA-DEEP.

“Maybe Bruce had a reason for not showing this to us.” Steph said shakily. Jason glanced over. She looked green. Her sleave and eyes were both wet. The sounds of the heart monitor echoed in the cave.

BA-DEEP. “Please…Listen to me…” Dick’s horse voice started again. Tim was muttering frantically to himself. “You still have time to get yourself out of here.” The camera was so close. Jason could see every cut on his brother’s face, could see the sweat on his brow, the blood trickling down from his nose.

BA-DEEP. “I am not leaving you, Dick. I am not abandoning you.” Bruce sounded much more confident that Jason felt. Too bad Bruce didn’t sound confident.

“You aren’t Bruce. And you never have.” Dick replied. Jason’s vision was blurring. All he wanted was some stupid computer files. He didn’t come to the cave to watch this.

BA-DEEP. “The only way we’re getting out of here is together…No…The wires…” Jason dug his fingernails into his palms. “…Every time I disconnect a relay, it fixes itself.” Jason bit his lip.

BA-DEEP. At some point those in the caves had gone silent. “Then there’s only one way to disarm this bomb, Batman.” Came Luthor’s voice. The video jolted violently and Bruce’s cry reverberated through the cave. Chaos erupted on the screen. A cacophony associated with their customary brand of violence echoed through the speakers, obscuring some of the voices.

BA-DEEP. “I’m saving our lives.” Jason made out. The screen was black. Jason glanced around the room. Everyone was tense. Damian was crying. Tim looked horrified. Cass was perfectly still, her expression blank. Steph looked one step away from throwing up in the empty popcorn bowl that lie on the ground at her feet.

BA-DEEP. The camera was moving again. “LUTHOR.” Boomed Bruce’s voice again. Jason caught a glimpse of the man pressing a hand over Dick’s face. “LUTHOR, YOU HURT HIM AND I WILL KILL YOU.” Cass let out the faintest gasp. Bruce wasn’t lying. How the hell was Luthor still alive? The heart monitor was stuttering. BA-DEEEEEP

“Nonononononononononono.” Came Tim’s voice. “It wasn’t supposed to-”

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

“DICK.” Screamed Bruce. The camera rushed forward.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

“NO!” Yelled Bruce and Tim at the same time. Damian had sunk to the floor.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

A fist kept pounding Luthor in the face relentlessly. “Batman, wait-” Luthor pleaded. This was not how Jason had wanted Bruce to break his code.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

“YOU MURDERER!” Screeched Bruce, righteous fury echoing in his voice. The heart monitor cut off. A hand reached down to cut off Luthor’s windpipe.

“I have this…” Came Luthor’s strangled voice. He looked terrified. “Under control…Grayson…” The hand squeezed harder. “-kk-!” The man chocked. Bruce lessened up slightly. “It’s not too late, you idiot.” Spat Luthor. Bruce was apparently passed the point of listening.

“YOU MURDERED NIGHTWING.” He growled, tightening his grip once more. Luthor was going bug eyed. The man was going to actually die if Bruce pushed it much harded.

“Batman-” Came Selina’s voice.

“Luthor killed Dick, Selina.” Bruce said, his voice strangled.

“You said this lightning rod was from the future! Maybe we can use it to save him or something? I don’t know-!” She cried desperately.

A flash of light and crackle of electricity resounded through the cave. The screen went black for a moment.

Jason could hear metal clinking on the floor.

“Why are we still watching this?” Jason asked hoarsely. Tim looked at him palely.

“I need to know what happened next.” He whispered.

“If I hadn’t stopped Grayson’s heart, this ‘Murder Machine’ would have detonated and we all would have died. I had to make a choice, Batman. I made him flatline…after I forced him to swallow a cardioplegia pill.” The camera slowly tilted back up to focus on Luthor.

“A what?” Asked Steph and Selina at the same time.

“A drug that paralyzes the cardiac muscles surrounding the heart.” Replied Tim and Bruce in sync.

“Then…” Trailed off Damian. The boy looked up hopefully at the screen.

“And if this boy’s heart doesn’t get a shot of adrenaline right this very second he’s going to stay dead.” Luthor finished.

*kaff*

That small cough was the best sound Jason had heard in his entire life.

“YES!” Shouted Tim.

Damian swallowed. “As I expected.” He said shakily. No one called him out on it.

“Dick?” Came Bruce’s voice from the screen.

“Batman?” Dick’s wobbly voice whispered.

Cass tackled Steph into a bear hug, and Steph laughed widely as they clattered to the floor. Jason just sighed deeply and let his head drop into his hands in relief.

“Drake-” gasped Damian, “-get off.”

“You were right! Damian was right! Dick’s alive. HAHA Dick’s ALIVE!” Jason glanced up to see Tim squeezing the crap out of Damian who was going slightly blue in the face. There were words coming from the speakers still but they fell to the wayside in the celebration. Jason walked over and turned the volume down.

“I’m going to kill them.” Jason muttered under his breath. But he’d save that for later, for now, he just paced back to his chair and sunk into it. The cave was quiet for a few minutes, Dick and Bruce continued on whatever the fuck adventure they were on was. The rest of the video was a blur. By the end, Jason’s racing heart had settled, and the kids had stopped clinging to each other.

“But wait.” Said Steph as the video ended. “If Dick’s alive, where is he? How did you even know to look?”

Jason turned to see Tim babbling. “Well I have a few theories, we recovered more footage as well, you know? Like Damian found pictures of him all across the world so like, we don’t know for certain where he is, but like I don’t know for sure what happened, but maybe someone was compromised so like, he had to stay hidden or like…” Tim continued babbling as the next video began to play. It was once again footage from the cowl. “Bruce shut off all the camera’s in the cave for the next week, I thought he was sulking but like we were able to find some cowl footage that he deleted, and like hopefully from that we can figure out what happened and how to track him down-”

“Turn up the volume.” Demanded Cass from her seat. She was looking at the screen with an odd expression. Damian moved without hesitation. Jason’s eyes followed up to the screen. Dick was glaring into the camera his fists raised and wrapped.

“So, one more time Dick. But now there’s only one rule…You have to win.” Came Bruce’s gruff voice. The pair was in the cave. Dick lunged towards the camera. “You let the crime syndicate capture you. Let them torture you. You let them give your secrets to the world.” Bruce accused.

“Bruce man, what the fuck!” Steph yelled, masking Dick’s response.

Bruce continued “You let them turn you into a bomb. You let them kill you. Before Luthor rescued you, you let everyone WATCH YOU DIE.” He boomed.

“YOU GOTTA BE FUCKING KIDDING ME!” Jason bellowed, knocking over his chair as he stood. He walked away from the screen. Only fucking Bruce. Only fucking Bruce would blame someone for their death. Jason knew that all too well. He walked away from the screen, giving himself distance to clear his head.”

“I trained you to LIVE, and I watched you DIE!” CRACK. Jason flipped around to see Bruce elbow Dick in the face, drawing blood. Bruce’s words cut like a knife. It wasn’t Jason’s fault he died. It wasn’t Dick’s fault either. Neither Steph’s or Damian’s. Damian had unconsciously taken cover behind Tim, who was standing between Damian and the screen with an arm hovering over the kid’s shoulder.

“WHAT THE FUCK BRUCE!” Screamed Steph at the screen, she was also on her feet at this point. Only Cass’s hand prevented her from trying to fight the digital apparition. “WE DON’T JUST GO AROUND DYING WILLY NILLY, IT’S NOT MY-, IT’S NOT HIS FAULT!” Her voice shrilly echoed around the cave, drowning out the audio temporarily.

Dick was on his knees, wiping his bloody nose, looking up confused. WHACK. A powerful kick sent him flying off the platform, crashing into a costume display case. “I have a mission for you, Dick. I need you to do something that will hurt your friends. Your family.” Bruce commanded. He could hear Damian inhale sharply. Tim stopped hovering and pulled Damian tightly into his chest, rushing forward to pause the video, with the boy in tow. His hand was over the button before Cass sprung forward and grabbed his wrist. Jason had never seen Cass look this angry without the mask.

“I deserve to know.” She said with conviction, anger deep in her voice. “I deserve to know what kind of father he is.” She spat. Jason wasn’t going to touch that with a ten foot pole.

“But he shouldn’t, I mean I don’t know if, I mean I don’t know what, I mean-” Tim sputtered glancing from the screen to Damian and back again.

“I want to know the truth.” Came Damian’s tiny reply. He looked so young, he pushed away from Tim’s chest, but leaned into his side.

Cass pulled Tim’s hand back. “I fought him once.” She admitted. “I need to know.” She repeated.

Tim looked at her pleadingly. Bruce and Dick raged at each other on screen. Blood flowed from the cuts on Dick’s back. “I…I…” Tim stammered.

“We all deserve to know.” Steph piped up, leaning against the side of the computer.

“Fight like you’re alive!” Bruce yelled on the screen. CRACK. An oversized die broke on impact with the back of Dick’s head. Dick retaliated, throwing a question mark back.

The words were blurring in Jason’s head, his rage clouding his thoughts, and overtaking his senses. The rest of the world was disappearing, leaving only the screen behind. His vision tunneled. He crossed his arms as tightly as he could, willing himself to stay in place. Stay calm. His hearing cut out. But he could still read his name on his brother’s lips just before Bruce delivered an uppercut powerful enough to knock Dick off the dinosaur.

The next thing Jason knew Cass was sitting on him. People were yelling at him.

“-on’t break the screen-”

“-up I need to see-”

“-op fighting-”

Cass smiled apologetically before tapping a pressure point. Jason allowed himself to fade into the darkness.

He came to in a medical bay of the cave, with an intense desire to get out. This place was cursed. He needed out, he needed to think, he needed to process, but he needed to get out. He pushed himself up and swung his legs off the bed.

“Wait.” Came a voice from behind him. He spun off the bed to see Tim, awkwardly standing on the other side of the cot. Jason edged towards the door. “We know where he is.” Tim offered. Jason glanced at Tim, and back to the door.

“Can we talk somewhere else?” He asked quietly. He didn’t want to be in the cave for this. Tim awkwardly bobbed side to side.

“Uh about that. We’re moving out.” He said quickly. Jason opened the door.

“OMGIT’SREDHOODHIMR.REDHOODSIRPLEASEDON’TKILLTIM-”

Jason slammed the door in the kid’s face. He stared at Tim, who was banging his head into the wall with a hand covering his eyes.

“Do I even want to know?” Jason asked. Tim groaned.

“I called my team to help us move out, we’re going to use the bunker for Gotham operations from now on.” Tim explained. A loud crash came from outside. The door whipped open.

“Heythegiantpennyisn’t-” The kid started. Jason growled at him. “-nevermindbyebye.” The speedster zipped away and slammed the door.

“You decided this without me?” Jason asked, raising an eyebrow at Tim. Tim looked back at him sheepishly.

“You’re already out voted. Besides you really want to stay here?” He replied evenly. Jason shrugged, that was fair. He’d already tried to leave. “I know you said you don’t want to talk here, but I don’t know when I’ll get you alone again.” Jason sighed. That’s valid, he was planning on avoiding the family for a bit. “Please don’t pull a disappearing act.” Jason looked up at him.

“Why not?” He challenged.

“We don’t need Bruce to be a family.” Tim replied. It sounded rehearsed. That was also fair. “And we need each other too. We found some communications from Dick, Bruce left him stranded when he got amnesia, he’s coming back in a few days.” Jason couldn’t look Tim in the eye anymore.

“I don’t know what to do.” He said honestly, looking at Tim’s shoes. What do you say after something like this? After watching something like that. After knowing the truth.

“Neither do we, but we’ll figure it out together.” Tim offered. He looked sad, tired, his face fell before he spoke again. “He…he misses us.” He spoke softly. “On the recordings. I, I don’t think Bruce even told him about Damian.” Jason swore softly under his breath. Bruce was one fucking piece of work.

“Is there anything else I should know?” Jason said after a moment, catching Tim’s eye once more.

Tim shook his head. “The rest of the tape was mostly the same.” He said quietly. “He won.” He added as an afterthought. Jason snorted. Tim gave a warry smile. None of them ever won. Not in the ways they wanted to. Only when the prizes were more pain, more guilt, more heartbreak.

Jason leaned back against the wall. How was this the way things ended up? Was Bruce always this cruel? The man was unrecognizable to Jason. It was inexcusable. After Willis? After Cain? After Brown? Hell, even Tim’s father was emotionally abusive before he died. Why couldn’t any of them have a normal father? A stable parental relationship. It wasn’t fair. And it hurt more because he didn’t even know where it started. Bruce had been a good father to him. Had that been a lie? He’d never looked to closely at why Dick had left home, could it be that…that…? Had Jason missed something like this? Would he ever even know what he’d missed? They didn’t have as many cameras back then.

Tim had crossed the room and put a hand on his shoulder. “He’ll be okay.” He said confidently. “As long as we have each other, we’ll all be okay.” Tim squeezed his shoulder gently before disappearing through the door into the chaos that used to be his childhood fantasy. When had it all gone so wrong, he had to ask himself. He hated that he knew the answer. His death was this fucking family’s original sin. But you know what, that wasn’t his fault. Even if it felt like it. Even if Bruce still blamed him. Dick didn’t look at him like a ghost, he didn’t look at him like a kid in over his head, like a regret, like a mistake. It was time for Bruce to grow the hell up and move on. Bad experiences don’t justify beating your kids. Maybe from here, they could move on. Maybe from here on, they could heal. Maybe they could start over. Maybe they could make their own new family. Bruce had abused them, lied to them, manipulated them enough. It was time to rise from the ashes like a phoenix and fly again. He wouldn’t know unless he tried. He didn’t have to give up on Gotham. But maybe it was time to give up on Bruce.

Jason swung open the door, descending into a future unknown, diverging from the circle of heartache and abuse. He had broken the cycle once before, on his own, with a new family made of friends, one of his choosing. And now he chose to break it once more, and this time he resolved not to leave his siblings behind.

#dickgraysonweek2021 #dickgraysonweek #dick grasyon #nightwing #batfamily #my writing #tw domestic abuse #tw child abuse #tw swearing

55 notes · View notes

dessarious · 4 years

Text

Misconceptions, Miscommunication, and Misinformation Pt92

AO3 Beginning Previous Next

When Chloe pulled back Marinette kept a hold of her shoulders to force eye contact. She knew Chloe still got embarrassed showing any type of affection so if she let go Chloe would likely retreat back into herself. As it was she just looked confused.

“I’m sorry.” She watched as Chloe blinked at her, obviously not sure how to react to that.

“Sorry about what?” Where did she even start?

“I’m sorry I scared you last night.” Chloe opened her mouth to respond but Marinette just kept going. If she didn’t get this out now she wasn’t sure she’d be able to. “Sorry that I’m so used to pushing myself past my limits that I don’t even stop to think if I need to anymore. I’m sorry you feel like you need to keep up a front around me because you’re afraid I won’t be able to handle hearing your problems. And I’m so sorry you didn’t feel like this was something you could talk to me about.” She motioned to the papers still spread out on the table. “It’s obviously something that you’re passionate about and have put a lot of work into. I can’t believe I got so wrapped up in myself that I didn’t even notice you were working on something. You deserve better.” It hurt that Chloe was so afraid of adding stress to her that she didn’t even want to share the good things.

“I didn’t want to bother you with it, at least not until I had a better idea of if it will work or not.” The mumbled response just made Marinette feel more guilty.

“Chloe.” She waited for her girlfriend to make eye contact. “You are not a bother. Your ideas and thoughts are not a bother. We’re partners. Even if you don’t want my input on something, you can still talk to me about it so I can at least offer you support. If it’s important to you, it’s important to me.” Chloe just stared at her for a minute before Marinette saw tears in her eyes. The next thing she knew she was in another crushing hug.

“Thank you.” She sounded so grateful and Marinette was mental cursing at herself. She forgot to take into account how different their home lives were far too often. Marinette had parents who loved her. More than that they were present in her life. If she was excited about something she knew she could go to them and they would at least be interested in how she felt about it. Chloe had never had anything close to that. Her father gave her money and shooed her away. Her mother couldn’t be bothered to remember she had a child most of the time. Chloe had been alone for most of her life other than Sabrina.

“You don’t have to thank me. Given all the times I’ve bored you to tears with my nonsense, not to mention everything you do for me, I’m the one who should be grateful.” And she was. She honestly didn’t know what she would have done without her.

“You’re never boring and after everything I’ve done I still can’t believe you’re even willing to talk to me.” That was the problem. She felt like she deserved to be alone and ignored by everyone around her. Marinette was fairly certain Chloe expected her to just up and leave one day, or maybe even start being abusive towards her because that was really all she knew to expect.

“You made mistakes, yes. But you learned and grew from them. Judging someone on their past actions but completely ignoring their current ones is insane. We’ve both done things we regret, but letting those things define you just keeps you trapped in the past. I’d much rather concentrate on our future.” Marinette caught Selina give Chloe an ‘I told you so look’ that she was going to have to ask about later. “But to do that we’ve both got to get better at talking to each other. I need you to remind me every once in a while that I don’t have to do everything by myself anymore, and I’m going to get it through your head that just because your parents don’t think anything is more important than themselves doesn’t mean no one will ever put you first.”

“You two are so cute. I imagine this is how talks with Bruce would go if the man understood the concept of communication. Or admitting he’s wrong about something.” Chloe let out an amused snort before pulling back to look at the woman.

“So you’re saying Damian comes by it honestly then?” Marinette shot her a glare but the girl just stuck her tongue out at her.

“Between having a mother with no emotions, and a father with no idea how to show them you could certainly say so. He seems to have gotten much better at it since moving here though. We actually talked for once instead of just poking at each other.”

“Mari has that effect on people.” Marinette just rolled her eyes at the praise.

“I’m pretty sure I’m not the one calming him down.” Selina’s eyes lit up and Marinette regretted being so flippant.

“Ah yes, the mystery boyfriend that the boys think doesn’t exist. I’m looking forward to meeting him as well.” Marinette shared a look with Chloe.

“That will be on their terms if it happens at all. Given some of the things they’ve said and done, Damian’s not thrilled about having told them that much. And he doesn’t want to subject his significant other to their interrogations until they’ve had a chance to calm down either.” Selina rolled her eyes and let out a frustrated breath.

“I don’t blame him. Bruce was an only child and really has no concept of how siblings should interact versus how his kids actually do. Some of the things that come out of their mouths are ridiculous, especially Jason and Steph. Bruce always seems surprised when their teasing results in Damian pulling out weapons. It’s sad really.”

“So you’ll leave him alone to tell everyone in his own time?” Selina looked surprised by the question but Marinette had to make sure.

“Of course. When I figure out who it is I’ll keep it to myself. I promise I won’t even tell Bruce.” Chloe was eyeing the woman with a calculating expression.

“What makes you think you’ll figure it out before he tells you?” Selina chuckled.

“Because unlike the Bats I pay attention to the things that are right under my nose. Not to mention they all seem to be expecting some drastic transformation whenever he’s around this person and won’t be looking for subtle hints. I do know that Alfred and Cass have figured out who it is already and aren’t sharing, so I’m confident I’ll be able to figure it out, and keep the boys from looking too closely at the wrong things, just in case.”

AO3 Beginning Previous Next

Ko-Fi

Tag List

@noirdots @valeks-princess @chocolatecatstheron @krispydefendorpolice @bee-wrecker @kanamexzeroyaoifangirl @northernbluetongue @paradoxal-occurance @scrumptiouslyelegantchaosqueen @sonif50 @thequestionablyhuman @persephonebutkore @elspethshadow @geekydragonyt @mmwolf1605 @da-tasuky @mjisntme @bluerosette23 @anjuschiffer @littleredrobinhoodlum @tazanna-blythe @resignedcatservant @schrodingers25 @seraphichana @persephonescat @punstoppablechatnoir @magicalfirebird @crazylittlemunchkin @corabeth11 @cyborgcandy @casual-darkness @shamefullove @miraculous-simmer7 @tamoni112 @cat181818meow @littleblue5mcdork @allthebooksandcrannies @enchanted-nerd @disneyfoxuniverse @fallinginthe-void @mandy984 @goggles-mcgee @fontegagrilledcheese @dorkus-minimus @theatreandcomicfreak @zerotosiki @ayuchan07 @mindfulmagics @urbanpineapplefarmer @winter-gardenflower @mooshoon @my-name-is-michell @melicmusicmagic @7-sage-7 @hypnosharkrebeldreamer @alicesangelofmusic @caffeinetheory @nataladriana9 @multplelifes @wanderingreader1019 @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @mvaree @redscarlet95 @storyteller-d @howabouticallyou @ginamarie1512 @kurogaya913 @tbehartoo @maddrag @two-faced-biatch @senyahgirl @unabashedlyswimmingtimemachine @iloontjeboontje @kakashixobito @welcometopradasa @amirahevens @amlesi @miraculousbelladonna @virgil-is-a-cutie @18-fandoms-unite-08 @cupcakeandkisses @angelofmusickaterinapetrova @book-r-the-best @dur55 @moonlightstar64 @fertileleaf @thequeenofpotatoeunicornss @thecaptainthunder @danielslilangel @novicevoice @nyaabinch @interobanginyourmom @welcometopradasa @charlietheepic7 @im-here-for-the-content @maya-custodios-dionach @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @starwindmaden @tired-butterfly @rogueptoridactyl @emeraldpuffguide @suzen23smith @yuulxd @animegirlweeb @alovelyocean @kris-pines04 @semaalcocer-blog @cadencehood @jardimazul-blog @shethecat @silent-storms-posts @simplysslytherin @tog84 @thesunanditsangel @dast218 @tall-and-angry @the-alice-of-hearts @captainmac6 @theyellowfeverexperience @chrismarium @alessialeone6997 @heaven428 @tinyterror333 @smolplantmum @lilyellowink @naoryllis @katiegardneriscoolerthanyou @magewriter @doodledeerest @athena452 @peachedpocky @tired-butterfly @risingmoonyue @lunammoon @mylife-demonstrates-murphys-law @bobothyross @silvergold-swirl @loysydark @heaven428 @hauntedwintersweets @awesome-starfish-and-tacos @silvergold-swirl @rosesgonerogue @castielsofficialtoothbrush @myazael @aestheticnpoetic @creator-josie @sturchling @snowstar1016 @myblacknightworld @kittycatwowmeow @midnightkaito @chylou34 @hufflejournals @indecisive-mess-named-me @uwuteamleader @sassakitty @jessigurl-design @demigodgirl20031 @freshbark @soup-served-chilling @elmokingkong @unknownvsworld @thatonegaybitchfromschool @tis-i-beanbandit @damianette-is-life @peachesbackup @nobodyw8s4evr @the-fusionist @iwantwhirlledpeasandlotsatrees @chocolateherringtacofan

#maribat #bffmaridami #Selina Kyle #marinette dupain cheng #chloe bourgeois

97 notes · View notes

pl-panda · 4 years

Text

Damienette aranged marriage: part 3

Whoa... Two parts in one day. Sorry if this one is worse, but yet again I wrote this instead of sleeping.

Warning: there will be some cursing from Jason, but can you really blame him? Credits: Miraculous Ladybug team for the elements I take from MLB show. DC for their characters, @ozmav for the AU, @maribat-archive for giving me access to so many different stories to have take inspirations from, @thyladyanput for idea for Chat Damian and me for the plot.

Part 1

Damienette arranged marriage: Part 3

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

“And why would you tell her everything?!” Jason screamed, still hidden behind Batman’s towering posture.

“Because she is my wife Todd!” Damian screamed. The silence in the room was thick enough that if the assassin swinged his sword, he would be able to cut it in half. Finally, Bruce was the one to break it.

“Fuck.”

This worked like detonating a bomb. Immediately, Red Hood, Red Robin and Nightwing pushed their way into the room and surrounded the two teens.

“You were gone for less than forty-eight hours!” Dick

“How did you manage to get married!” Drake

“You are just fifteen demon spawn!” Todd

“And who is she!?” Drake again.

Talia watched this whole ordeal with no small amount of amusement. That is until Bruce suddenly appeared next to her. His frown was downright scary even for her. “Explain. Now!” The growl was low and emotionless, but it was enough to yet again put the room in dead silence.

“Beloved. It is good to see you too.” Talia smiled seductively.

“I am not in the mood. Now talk!”

“Fine.” She dropped all illusion of niceness. “I made peace with old enemy of the League. Or even a shaky alliance. But to seal the treaty, an assurance was required.”

“And that assurance was?” Jason asked confused, earning a facepalm from Dick.

“The Royal Marriage. An heir of the League and future leader of the Order.”

“And that leader would be… her?” Batman asked, not fully convinced.

Marinette was standing there the whole time, greatly uncomfortable with the attention Bat Family was giving her and Damian. She did read a bit on them, but it was always Alya who never shut up about heroes. For the most part, she preferred talk about Ladybug, but lately there was slowly forming a rift. The aspiring reporter was falling into Lila’s lies, posting unreliable videos on Ladyblog. Rossi had it for Ladybug and Alya, together with the rest of Marinette’s class, was falling for her machinations. They still hanged out with Marinette, but there was this distaste forming around her. She was no longer their to-go person with personal problems, being replaced by Lila who was awful at helping others unless it benefited her. But now Marinette had more pressing matter than a pity little liar. She looked at Batman, then at the bat-kids and finally at Damian. They were all looking at her expectantly.

“Oh right! Sorry. I did it again…” She gave them a sheepish smile. “I am Ladybug, hero of Paris and Great Guardian of the Miraculous.” She stated. Most of the heroes (bar Damian who knew a tidy bit about the Order of the Guardians) were confused.

“Paris doesn’t have heroes. There aren’t even any supervillains there.”

“Excuse me?! How does nobody knows what is going on in Paris!” Ladybug shouted. “Ugh! Seriously?!”

Batman narrowed his eyes. “Forgive me, Ladybug, but the Justice League would know if there was a threat in Paris. So who are you really.”

“Then ask Green Lantern. He was the one who laughed at my plea for help.” She scowled, but then her demeanor changed. She calmed down and gave a sheepish smile. “But guess I should thank him. I can only dread what would happen if Superman was akumatized. Or Flash. Or anyone really. I don’t think I could win.”

Batman frowned. He would have a talk with Hal once he dealt with this. If there was really a threat like that, ignoring it was not only stupid, but dangerous. And the girl was at best Damian’s age. She was dealing with this for how long? The way she spoke suggested that she was in charge. A child fighting in a war all alone.

“For now beloved, it should be enough for you that the two of them are legally married.”

“Like hell!” Jason shouted at her, waving his gun. “They are fifteen. No court would accept this.”

“Actually,” Tim started, “under some laws they can be married. For example ‘The Personal Status Law of Muslims’ in Sudan sets the minimum age at ten.” He spoke like he was reading an encyclopedia.

“But we are somewhere between Nepal and China. I don’t think there are such laws here.” Dick said, but his confidence wavered.”

“Tt. First of why don’t anyone ask me or Marinette about our opinion?” Damian asked irritated.

“Shut up Demon Spawn. Adults are working here”

“If you don’t shut up, Todd, I will make you eat your dirty socks until you choke on the stench.” The young boy threatened. Marinette cringed at this, not really wanting to imaging such situation.

“The marriage stays.” Talia stated coldly. “Otherwise, I will not be able to stop League from going to war against Order of the Guardians.”

“You are their leader.” Batman pointed out.

“That may be correct, beloved, but I am but a regent. Only after Damian finally assumes the leadership, his word will be law. I do try to reform the league, but there is little I can do in this situation.”

“Bullshit!” Jason cursed. “You are just manipulative bitch.”

“Jason!” Dick hit the back of Red Hood’s helmet, causing him to almost tumble. “Language. There are minors in the room.”

“Don’t worry Mousier.” Marinette noted that the whole debate shifted to English. She learned it years ago when she first got interested in fashion. Some of the greatest fashion critiques wrote only in English and she didn’t want to be left behind. And other foreign critiques and designers were always translated into English. “After today, cursing is the least of my worries.” During the talk, Marinette pulled her yo-yo to check the situation in Paris. The good news were that there was no Akuma attack since her confrontation with Hawkmoth. Bad news: she was gone for over forty hours already.

“What exactly is the deal?” Bruce sighted. He loved his boys, but he could practically feel his hair graying. At least the girls didn’t go around marrying total strangers. “I want the full story Talia. Don’t even try to deceive us.”

“As you wish Beloved.” She smiled and sat back at her chair. Jason was about to hop onto where Marinette sat, but Damian ‘accidentally’ tripped him. Ladybug detransformed and Tikki flew out.

“What is this flying mouse?!” Dick screeched upon seeing a kwami.

“My name is Tikki. I am kwami, or if you prefer a small god, of creation and luck.”

“Okay… I’ve totally seen weirder.” Jason shrugged and Tim was too busy trying to plug in his pocket kettle to make himself some coffee.

“Ekhm.” Bruce faux-coughted to get their attention. “Begin Talia.”

“Many centuries ago, magic jewels bestowing extraordinary powers were created. These were... the Miraculous. Throughout history, heroes have used these jewels for the good of the human race. Order of The Guardians was responsible for protecting and distributing the Miraculous for the good of all humanity. Some time in the past, League has learned about the existence of this artifacts, more powerful than even Lazarus Pit. A secret war began between two organizations. There was a constant stalemate until the Order was mysteriously destroyed without a trace. We believed all miraculous to be lost until two years ago heroes and villains using them appeared in Paris. Initially, we ignored them, long since abandoning this war. But then, some month ago a temple of the Guardians suddenly reappeared with the Order in chaos. The League attacked, but they were strong enough to withstand the initial strike and turn it into a siege. In time, we would have succeeded and wiped them once and for all. But instead, the Guardians understood their situation and reached to us with agreement. A truce and alliance, in exchange for sparing them.”

“Yeah right! Only an idiot would take such offer!” Red Hood kept arguing with the Assassin woman.

“Or a strategist. Either way, the League wins. They no longer need to worry about threat, but this way they also get an ally.” Batman remained expressionless, but he kept sending Damian and Marinette side-glares. He wanted to know how they are coping with this. The girl was a bit shaken, but that was to be expected. He would talk more with her later. What surprised him was that Damian seemed to show concern for her. The kind he usually reserved only for his brothers and father.

“Yes. While our methods differ, the League and the Order have a common goal: prosperity for all humanity. But to ensure that neither side would go against the other, there needed to be a more tangible symbol of this union.”

“Marriage of the heirs. In the past such method was often used to symbolize an alliance. It symbolized equality of both partners and parties they represented.” Tim acted as an universal encyclopedia again, which Jason did exploit to tease him mercilessly while the others focused on the discussion.

“And let me guess” Dick frowned. “If they break the deal, it means war?”

“Yes.” Damian simply nodded. The memory of his mother’s threat hanging over the girl’s live was still fresh. Now that he got to know her better Damian was surprised that someone so brave and strong could at the same time be such emotionally unstable or open. It was almost refreshing. His family was awful with emotions and beyond that women only saw his last name. Many times he dealt with liars who tried to use him to get into the pockets of his father. But with Marinette he was sure that she was genuine with her feelings. He could not find any reason for her not to be at the moment, especially after she revealed her secret to him.

“So what? We are just supposed to roll with it? What will press think? You will give Alfred a heart attack Damian.” Dick rambled. Youngest Wayne decided to ignore him and turn to his father.

“While this might be a bit inconvenient, I believe it is the best course of action for now.” Damian spoke with cold and calculative voice.

“And what about you?” Batman turned to the girl, who for the most part lately was busy discussing something with the kwami in French. Bruce was proficient, but he was too focused on Talia and Damian.

“I… I accepted that my duty as Great Guardian comes with certain responsibilities. If this is what it takes to preserve peace, then I guess… I guess I will roll with it.” She smiled at Dick, almost daringly. Damian smiled too. Anyone who teased his brothers like that earned some points in his book. “But I can’t just leave Paris. For now it’s peaceful, but I don’t know how long it will last. And there are my parents… Oh Kwami! What will I tell my parents! Or my friends! Or my class! What if they reject me for this and I will be kicked from home, then I will not become a professional designer and I will never fulfill my dream and I will be forever lonely…” She unintentionally rambled in mixture of English and French while walking in circle and waving her hands. Damian grabbed her by her wrists to stop her before she accidentally knocked someone out and then cupped her hands with his. She was still talking random stuff, which made absolutely zero sense. Damn. She is cute when she is rambling. What!? He shut down the intrusive thoughts and focused on the girl… his wife.

“Calm down. Take deep breaths. You will not be alone.” He hoped it would work, but she barely slowed down. He sighted. Damian looked her deep in her bluebell eyes and she saw the two whirlpools of jade green he had. They were more prominent that Adrien’s. “Listen to my voice. All is going to be fine. We will not leave you.” This time, it did work and she calmed down.

Rest of the Batfam watched in shock how Damian has acted. It was most unusual for him to initiate physical contact at all, much less act this gentle. They looked at Talia, but she shrugged.

“I didn’t do anything if that’s what you think.” She smirked. “But I don’t think I needed.” Two newly-wed were just standing there, starring in each other’s eyes.

“Robin!” Batman finally got him to break out of this. “We gotta go. We will figure out exactly what to do later.”

“Fine. But we are taking Marinette with us.” Damian stubbornly stated.

“Yes. She should not stay here. And I have more questions for her.”

The flight to Paris was surprisingly fast. They traveled in perfect silence, but she felt rather uncomfortable with how everyone (bar Damian) sent her a suspicious glares. Finally, they landed around 8 PM on the rooftop of local Wayne Enterprises headquarter. She walked out first, happy to finally get back onto her home turf.

“Now there are some questions that needs to be answered.” Batman spoke.

“Uhm… Okay?”

“Stop intimidating her Father.” Damian scowled.

Bruce reluctantly nodded. “Maybe it would be the best to discuss it in private of my office.” He pressed some buttons on his glove and the bat-plane camouflage. Well, it was probably more of Bat-cargo plane since it could fit six people comfortably and still have much space free.

They got into the office, where Bruce had a total of five armchairs set around the coffee table. Immediately, Damian and Dick took two of them, leaving the head one for Bruce and one in between the two Waynes for Marinette. Tim didn’t bother trying to fight with Jason over who gets the last place, instead opting to just jump onto computer chair at the desk and activating a holo-screen. He quickly connected to Batcomputer and started to pull various files (mostly on Marinette and her close ones, but she didn’t see it).

“So tell me. What is our young couple planning to do now?” Dick teased them.

Jason was standing next to the alcohol bar, pouring several glasses of whiskey. Before Bruce could protest, he brought five and placed them on the table. His reaction to disapproving glare from the other adults was to just shrug. “What? They are married. I think underage drinking would be the least of the problems. Oh! That reminds me.” Jason grinned maliciously and pulled his wallet. He tossed something square and silver at Damian. “I don’t want any demon spawns junior running around soon.”

Once Marinette realized what was that and what was he implying she turned redder than Tim’s outfit. Damian scowled. “I have a sword on me Todd, so watch what you are saying. I might not have chosen her to be my bride, but I will not let you embarrass her just for your fun.”

Jason saw an opportunity and he would be damned if he didn’t take it. “Which sword are you talking about?”

Damian hissed like an angry cat and drawn his sword, lunging at his brother. Todd initially wanted to block the attack with his gun, but fine steel cut right through it. Seeing murder in Damian’s face he did the only plausible thing: started to run.

Marinette was inventing new shades of red with her blushing. Bruce gave her an apologetic look. “Please, don’t take his comments to heart. Jason is…” before batman could find a right word there was a sound of something crashing, followed by a painful yelp. In just a moment, Damian returned happy, his sword a bit bloody.

“Please tell me you didn’t kill him…” Dick begged. Marinette was not sure whether this was a joke or not, but the longer she stayed with the batfam, the less sane they appeared.

“Nah. But he didn’t look where he was running and toppled the stack of boxes and I ended up stabbing him in his left calf. He will live.” Damian assured them. And true to his words, a limping Jason appeared in the doors. He grabbed a fresh bottle of whiskey on his way to the armchair and slumped resigned. “Demon spawn!”

“Idiot!”

“Enough!” Bruce wanted to pull his hair out. “We came here to discuss a certain situation not stab each other. Marinette?”

“Yes monsieur Wayne?” She asked, still stunned with what happened. She had to admit Damian acter chiviliarus protecting her honor, even if his way was pretty violent.

“I was trying to ask you, what do you plan on doing now?”

“I… I don’t know. This all happened so fast…”

“It’s okay. I don’t think anyone would have a plan for such situation.” Dick reassured her

“Bruce does. It’s inside the safe in the batcave in folder labeled ‘Talia never gives up’.” Tim chimed in before returning to his research.

“Well, no one sane has such plans.” Dick tried to cheer her up. It did work even if just a bit. “But ask yourself what do you want.”

“Well… I would wish to finish my education and I always dreamed about becoming a professional fashion designer.”

“And how is this plan working so far?” Bruce inquired.

“Well, I do run a small internet boutique, where I take commissions and uncle Jagged refuses to wear anything that wasn’t personally designed by me.” She said casually.

“Wait a moment… Uncle Jagged as in Jagged Stone, the world-class rock musician?!” Tim suddenly shouted.

“Uh… yes?” She got confused

“But his only designer is the mysterious MDC! That would mean you are MDC!”

“Uh… yes?” Marinette had no idea why Tim acted like that.

“Oh god! Oh god! I got to meet MDC! Can I get your authograph?” He was suddenly next to her, holding a copy of the her first album cover she made for Jagged.

“Sure.” She signed it and handed it back. It read: ‘Good luck TD, MDC’.

Tim Fainted.

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

Taglist (sorry if I missed you)

@pheonixashtree @sassakitty @unabashedbookworm @vixen-uchiha @maggiecc12 @actualdisasterwoman @tired-butterfly @shizukiryuu @floralfi @imanerddealwith @northernbluetongue @krispydefendorpolice @toodaloo-kangaroo @dast218 @bluesoulblueheart @theatreandcomicfreak @disneyfoxuniverse @mindfulmagics @alwaysnumberonetruth @nyaabinch @jardimazul @lenamau @rosep16 @dramatic-squirrel @sonif50 @daminett4life @lulutheawkwardess @weird-pale-blonde-person @mooshoon @jeminiikrystal @mochegato @moonlightstar64

#fanfic #fanfiction #crossover #marinette x damian #order of the guardians #guardian!marinette #maridami #maribat #damienette #maribat au #league of assassins #arranged marriage au #batman

546 notes · View notes

jinmukangwrites · 4 years

Text

Whumptober Day 19

Grief | Survivors Guilt

Ao3

-o-o-o-o-

It's a cold autumn night when Tim enters the manor. There's been an early snowfall this year, one that has Tim shrugging off his winters coat and hanging it up beside the manor's front door along with his gloves.

He looks around the foyer, thankful to immediately spot Alfred walking towards him from the familiar hallway leading towards the study. However, any kind of good mood Tim was in from being back at the manor for the first time in what was probably close to a month leaves when Alfred gets close enough for him to see the little, worrying details.

He's not wearing a suit or tie. Just dress pants and a white collared shirt with the sleeves rolled up. There's spots of red on Alfred's sleeves... and a rag is held in his wrinkled hands, stained with blotchy pink spots.

And Tim suddenly remembers why he's here.

"Hi, Alfred," Tim greets as Alfred finally finishes approaching. He looks haggard. Likes he's been up all night. He probably has been.

"Master Tim," Alfred says, offering a small smile. "I apologise for not greeting you earlier. I trust the travel wasn't unpleasant?"

Tim shakes his head. Roads were scary slippery, but because the snow is still fresh and the time’s approaching dawn, there wasn't much traffic to make Tim's drive from the penthouse towards Bristol too horrible. "It was fine. And you don't need to apologise… I'm sure you've been busy. Where is…?"

Alfred sighs, his hands running through the rag without much purpose. Alfred's shaken. Tim heard it was bad, but he didn't think it was this bad.

"Masters Dick and Bruce are both downstairs with Doctor Thompkins. Master Dick has yet to wake, but considering we've just finished surgery, I don't expect him to be awake in the near future."

"How bad is he?"

Alfred sighs and moves so he drapes the blood stained rag over his wrists. "Major head trauma is the worst of it. Some broken ribs, a snapped wrist, mostly bruises and cuts. Doctor Thompkins is hopeful that he'll make a full recovery in time."

"And… Damian?"

Damian was there right? He was a part of this whole catastrophe? Nightwing and Robin were supposed to be on a team up. With a sinking stomach, Tim realizes Damian must have watched Two-Face repeat his ever so famous beating of Nightwing tonight.

Tim hopes Harvey Dent and his stupid grudges stay in Arkham for a very long time this time around. If Tim sees him any time soon, Tim's not sure he'll be able to pull his punches as much as he should.

Alfred's voice pulls Tim out from his thoughts. "Master Damian is… outside. Near the Graveyard. I was just about to check up on him, it's rather cold out..."

"Know what?" Tim says. "I'll get him. You look like you could use a nap."

Alfred's face softens. "If you're sure… then I will begin making some hot chocolate for the two of you to warm up."

"Thanks, Alf," Tim replies, a genuine smile rebelliously appearing on his lips.

After he shoves himself back in his jacket and gloves, he's sure he’s prepared for how cold it is outside in the October air.

Immediately, he's pelted by a harsh, gray colored wind speckled with small, glittery flakes of snow. The snow is wet, immediately melting when it touches his coat, and just managing to glaze the grass, but regardless of that it's still cold.

What's Damian doing at the Graveyard at this time with this weather?

The trek towards the Wayne Graveyard is mostly uneventful besides a few slip ups on the stone path. He almost falls on his ass once, but by the time he sees the gate towards the family graveyard, he's relatively unharmed.

The moment Tim walks past the gates, his eyes immediately fly towards the back of the plot where a giant angelic statue stands, her face shrouded with a hood and her hands brought up in prayer.

Jason Todd's grave, Tim feels, has always been a part of Tim's life. Because his life never really began until Robin, didn't it. Which is… depressing to say but he can't really call the years spent practically alone with his emotionally distant parents anything close to a life. Tim decides to head that way. If Damian is sitting at any grave, it's probably near the ones dug recently, and not the old, weathered ones filled with names belonging to Wayne's no one actually really knows about.

Ya know, no one knows about until they’re revealed to have been a part of some super secret old-timey cult or something.

He's probably at Martha and Thomas's graves, wondering what it would be like to have known them. The most experience he has with grandparents is Ra's Al Ghul, and, well, no one wants that guy as a grandfather.

However, when Tim finally sees the form of a small teen squatting besides a grave, it's one that's no longer… valid. But one that keeps it's gravestone anyway, the dates scratched off.

Tim feels something try to crawl into his throat to choke him.

Of course the grave Damian's visiting is Dick's.

Tim immediately decides to make his approach more cautious than what he was initially planning. He can't… really think of a time where he's seen Damian sit at this grave, even while they thought Dick was actually dead. Tim was… off with the Teen Titans and if he remembers correctly Damian wasn't even in the country for long after he came back to life. Bruce got amnesia and for quite a long time, it was only Alfred and Bruce in the manor, living in a carefully constructed illusion that Bruce wasn't Batman and had never taken kids into his home.

Tim wonders when Damian found out Dick "died". How did he react? Did anyone even try to reach out to tell him gently, or did he find out on his own?

"Hey," Tim greets softly, lowering himself down to Damian's level in front of the fake grave. He sits on the balls of his feet and curls his arms over his knees before he turns to really get a good look at Damian.

The kid huffs in response, just staring ahead of him like the gravestone was the most interesting thing in the entire world. His cheeks and nose are red, a stark contrast to his normally dark complexion. His green eyes shine vividly too beneath his sopping wet black bangs. Tim wonders if he's been crying. However, he doesn't dare ask.

"Alfred's making hot chocolate," Tim continues, really feeling out of his league now. He doesn't know what to do. He's never had to confront a clearly vulnerable Damian before. "I don't think we should keep him waiting."

Damian blinks slowly, his gaze finally leaving the gravestone to flicker towards Tim.

And if eyes were the windows to the soul, then Damian's eyes have always been barred for as long Tim's known him. Barred and locked and shielded by blackout curtains. Now though? They're a stained glass window, shattered and hanging by twisted metal framework thanks to a rock that has been thrown through.

Tim can't recall ever seeing Damian like this before. It makes him ponder what really happened tonight. If Dick's injuries were simply because of an unfortunate Two-Face run in. Bruce called Tim over to help go over evidence, but now Tim gets the feeling the real reason he's been requested is because Damian's hurting in his own way too, and Bruce doesn't know how to deal with it.

Not that Tim knows how to deal with it either. The only person that really knows Damian inside and out is the very person who's just finished fighting for his life thanks to a brutal beat down via a psychopath armed with a wooden baseball bat. Again.

"Timothy…" Damian finally speaks, and Tim suddenly feels a chill enter his bones that's not from the wind. "What is Robin's purpose?"

Tim swallows, forcing surprise to stay off his face. Where has this come from?

"What do you mean?" Tim asks slowly.

"Tt." Damian turns back towards the gravestone, his usual sound of annoyance sounding half-hearted and incredibly tired. "Just answer."

And it must show how wrong this all feels because Tim doesn't even get the urge to roll his eyes at the demand. He lets out a breath that turns into a visible vapor the moment it leaves his mouth.

"I guess… it's different for everyone. There's no… job requirement when it comes to Robin. What it means can change on who wears the suit. As long as you wear the colors and fight alongside Batman, then you're Robin."

Damian frowns. "I was told Robin is supposed to be Batman's partner. Robin is supposed to watch Batman's back and protect him."

"Who told you that?" Tim asks before he could stop himself. Damian gives him an unimpressed look. "Oh. Lots of people, huh? Um… I guess protecting Batman is a big part of Robin. I know… that's the reason I became Robin. To save Bruce from his own darkness."

"Then… I am truly an awful Robin."

The words are so shocking that it takes Tim a second to realize a single drop of clear liquid that wasn't snow has dropped down Damian's cheek.

"Richard died while I was gone," Damian continues, water in his voice. "Even if his death was really a ploy to go undercover… he still got captured and tortured. I wasn't… there to protect him. And now, all I could do was stand uselessly while Dent…"

Damian brings a hand to his cheek to wipe the next tear that tries to fall. The sleeve of his jacket folds up around his wrists to reveal rope burns that definitely look like they sting.

Tim thinks he has a clearer picture now. Damian was definitely there, tied down and held back as Two-Face beat Nightwing to a bloody pulp.

Tim is so caught up trying to imagine what Damian is feeling, that he almost misses what's said next.

"If Robin is supposed to protect Batman, then… then it should have been me."

"No," Tim turns so he's facing Damian more head on. More tears drip down his cheeks and Damian looks done with trying to wipe them away. He's looking at the gravestone like he's the one who put it there. That the only reason it's there in the first place is because he wasn't there to stop it. "No, you're not allowed to say that. I take it back, Robin isn't meant to protect Batman-"

"You just said-"

"I was wrong, okay?"

Damian opens his mouth, then closes it.

Tim has to take a moment to catch his breath and gather his thoughts. "Look… Damian… you're a kid. It's never a kids job to protect the guardian. It's their job to protect you."

"That's the issue, Timothy, he was protecting me." Damian wipes his eyes furiously, his cheeks growing redder but not because of the cold. "Two-Face wanted me, but Richard tricked Two-Face into letting him take my place. Richard died because of me, and stayed away because of me, and now he's- he's hurt because of me-"

"Stop it," Tim snaps. He can feel his heart beating so quickly. His stomach feels like it's in knots. Damian snaps his jaw shut with a tiny, barely choked off whimper that almost has Tim wanting to stand up, go to Gotham, and show Two-Face what a baseball bat looks like from the other end of the beating. "Just… stop. It's… none of this is your fault. And if Dick heard you saying things like this… that it should be you… he'd tell you the same stuff.

"You didn't do anything wrong Damian. Sometimes… Batman gets hurt. But you can't hold yourself responsible for that. Sometimes Dick gets hurt to protect you… us, and we can't blame ourselves for that. Dick did what he thought was right, and it's our job now to make sure he gets better. Okay?"

Damian's silent. Sniffs. From the cold or from tears, Tim doesn't ask.

He wakes in the chilling silence of the Wayne Graveyard until Damian finally jerks his head in a tiny, ridged nod. "I… understand."

"Good." Tim then rises to his feet and grabs Damian's bicep, dragging his little brother up with him. Damian stiffens at first, but eventually complies. Soon, Tim has his arm wrapped around Damian's shoulders. Damian sniffs again and wipes his eyes.

"You said… Alfred was making hot chocolate?" He asks, and Tim smiles.

"He sure is. You think we can convince him to put in marshmallows this time?"

Damian puts on a watered-down thoughtful face. Then nods. "I'm sure if we work together, we can also get cookies."

"Sounds like a plan, gremlin."

"Tt."

"Oh, don't give me that look. You like the nickname."

"I do not."

“Yes you do. Look! You're smiling!"

"You're seeing things, Timothy."

#damian wayne #tim drake #dick grayson #robin #red robin dc #drake #nightwing #fic #fanfiction #jin writes #whumptober2020 #no.19 #grief #survivors guilt #dc #dc comics #batman comics

13 notes · View notes

isthisthingeven0n · 5 years

Text

this is real : d.d

brief summary: david proposing to you

word count: 1.9k requested: yes - by anonymous a WHILE ago so I am sorry for the fact it’s been forgotten. I finally came up with a bomb idea in the shower last night so hope you like it! warnings: none that I’m aware of

* masterlistin’ *

“Okay, guys so tomorrow I’m actually surprising Y/n.” David pauses as he releases out a shaky breath before resuming his sentence. “And I’m going to ask her to marry me.”

David’s smile grew as he knew everyone would finally be able to talk about it, how you’ll finally know why he’s been working late on long work trips to New York.

“But, in order for her to believe the whole thing, I need to create a distraction which is where our friends get involved.” Reaching over, David shuts the camera off and switches to his phone as he climbs out of his car and toward the house. “Last day as a fiancéless man, hopefully.” He chuckles to his phone as he slips his phone into his pocket and opens the front door.

“There you are!” Your voice floods the house as you rise to your feet, dragging a blanket behind you as you open it up to him. His hands wrap tightly around you as he kisses you softly. “Mmh, I missed you.”

Pulling away from your embrace, all David can think about is whether or not you’ll say yes. It’s been one of the only things on his mind for weeks, ever since he picked up the ring. “I missed you too.” He mutters in response, kissing you once again before following you to the sofa.

The two of you curl up together, and within minutes you’re fast asleep in his arms. David strokes your hair out of your face, wishing he could have more moments like this in the future. He loves how your mouth hangs open when you’re in a deep sleep, how you grip him like a koala and mumble incoherent sentences in your sleep. On second thought, it sounds kinda psychotic, but he loves you nonetheless.

Setting up his camera, you climb in the passenger seat. “Babe, mind adjusting the camera?” David asks you as he pulls out of his drive whilst you alter it to the right height before leaning back into your seat.

“We’re on our way to Hollywood Boulevard.” You tell the camera as you clap your hands, unable to hide your excitement for the prank you all have planned for those passing by. “Jason and Corinna are in her car along with Zane, Heath and Mariah.”

“Guys, we’re here too.” Erin speaks up from the back with Carly, both of them waving to the lens as they continue to finish their Starbucks.

As David drives he listens to the three of you talking, how naive you are in this moment whilst everyone knows the true intent behind the next few hours.

David knew he wanted to document this moment, the moment he contemplated how to do for almost a year. Putting a camera somewhere in the house wouldn’t be enough, he wanted to document it properly from multiple angles. And so, the skit/prank came into play.

By doing something in a public space, it ensures there are cameras everywhere filming the scene. It helps to act as a distraction so you aren’t suspecting anything out of the ordinary. And lastly, it helps David get over his fear of PDA by doing the most PDA thing possible, well other than having sex in public.

Parking his car, you walk off with Erin as you hold the equipment whilst Carly helps David. “How you feeling?” She mutters to him as he grips his camera tightly, trying to hide his shaking.

“What if she says no?” Doubt clouds Davids mind as he watches you up ahead, laughing lightly with Erin as she films for their vlog.

Carly raises an eyebrow to David, clearly unimpressed. “You seriously think she’ll say no?” Carly asks nonchalantly, and David weakly nods in response. “David, have you seen Y/n?” She points to you as you open the door to the car park, heading up the stairs and out of sight. “I’ve never seen someone that in love, okay. Having doubts is like expected, right?” She laughs to David, hoping to ease his nerves.

“Thanks Carls.” David mutters as they follow out of the car park where everyone is supposed to be meeting before the skit takes place.

Standing beside David you squeeze his hand as you walk past Jason and Corinna who take their position in the middle of the pavement. “They really going to do it?” You ask David quietly who nods to you. “They got balls.”

You glance around seeing all of your friends positioned at different points, all having their phones in hand to blend in with the crowd that’ll shortly gather.

Jason puts on his best smile as Corrina stands beside him. “Hey, everyone in LA!” Jason yells as he takes a hold of Corinna’s hand, lifting it up. “My girlfriend is expecting our first baby.” A few people stop and cheer, the crowd slowly increasing as David looks around.

“Well, my first baby at least.” Corinna comments, laughing uneasily as she places her hand on Jason's chest before he can continue causing Jason to feign aggression.

“Honey, we said we wouldn’t bring that up.” Jason turns his head, muttering to Corinna who sniffs and straightens up. “Anyway, we wanted to do a gender reveal and since all my friends are old and hers are,”

“In school.” Corinna adds.

“In college guys, college.” Jason chuckles as he looks around at slightly disgusted expressions meeting his eyes only making you smile at the fact he agreed to do this. “But you know how it works, blue is a boy, pink a girl.”

“And yellow if we decide not to assign a gender.” Corrina smiles brightly whilst Jason rolls his eyes. “Ready honey?” She beams and Jason nods, motioning to Zane who passes him the balloon.

“Okay, in three, two, one.” Everyone counts down with them as Corrina pops the balloon with one of her earrings and silver glitter explodes over them both.

The cheers die down as Jason stares at Corrina with wide eyes whilst she looks away, holding back her laugh. “What the fuck is this?!” Jason yells as he picks up pieces of glitter. “That’s not a boy or a girl, Corinna. What the fuck?!”

“Okay, so I lied alright!” She yells back, and the enthusiasm of the crowd increases as more people surround the scene, nearly all of the pavement is filled with strangers catching the action. “I’m not pregnant, but you stopped buying me shit I had to do something.”

“I can’t believe you lied to me, baby.” Jason begins to well up and bends down. “Please, please I’ll do anything.” He pleads to Corrina as she takes his hand, raising an eyebrow.

“Anything?” She asks and he nods eagerly. “Well, I do know someone here hasn’t been honest with his girlfriend.” Corrina pulls her hand away as she crosses her arms and Jason rises to his feet.

“What’s this?” You ask David, concern rising in your voice. “I don’t remember this being in the plan.” You mutter as Corrina steps around the circle, looking around at everyone.

David shrugs his shoulders as he discreetly passes his camera to Alex who appears beside him. Alex gives David a small nod before patting his shoulder lightly. “Huh,” Jason pauses for a moment and so does Corinna. “who here has been keeping a secret from their partner?”

Your eyes follow the crowd, seeing a series of hands rising and you laugh lightly. “You,” Corinna points to David, and you feel your laughter die and your heart drop into your stomach as David accepts Corinna’s hand and stands in the circle. “you’ve been keeping a secret from your girlfriend, haven’t you?” She smiles over to you as you begin to feel faint, panic rising in your thoughts.

“Yeah, there’s something I’ve been trying to ask her for a while, but I wasn’t sure how.” David fiddles with the sleeves of his clickbait hoodie before turning to face me. “Y/n, do you trust me?” He asks with a smile as he holds his hand in front of you, the crowd around you separating as they all mutter excitement for you.

“David,” You ask unsure as you step into the circle seeing Jason and Corinna standing back in the crowd. “what’re you doing?” You whisper into him, seeing him give you a half smile.

“I’ve known you since we were kids, and even then we pretended to imagine our futures. At that age, the thought of us being together was disgusting and shunned from our thought processes.” David chuckles and you join in, remembering it all so clearly. “And when I moved to LA, you supported me from back home, even when you went travelling the world and we both grew apart. We’ve both been in love, experienced heartbreak and success in all forms, but part of me felt that I was still missing something.”

Taking a step back from you, David kneels down in front of you and you gasp. “What are you doing?!” You whisper in fear, seeing his smile only growing at your rush of anxiety.

“When you moved here, it felt like I was back home. Suddenly the idea of us being together until we’re old wasn’t disgusting, it was the thing I was looking forward to and still am. That is if,” David reaches back and pulls out a small velvet box. “Y/n Y/m/n Y/l/n, will you marry me?”

Your mouth hangs open as the crowd becomes silent. “This isn’t a prank, right?” The first thing that comes to mind leaves your lips and a few laughs are scattered around the crowd.

“I can assure you, this isn’t baby.” David tells you as he pulls the box open, revealing a beautiful simplistic diamond ring with crystals on either side to the diamond. “So, what will it be? Cause I’m close to shitting myself down here.” He laughs lightly and you kneel down in front of him.

“Yes, yes!” You tell him as you place your hands on his face, pulling him close as tears fall and mix into your kiss.

Around you, your friends are filming every moment as they hold back tears. Liza stands beside Alex, smiling at their friends knowing they couldn’t have made a better choice together.

“Never felt like a prouder parent.” Ilya tells Natalie as he slips his arm over her shoulders, only to have it nudged off as she rolls her eyes. “I better be the best man.”

“You wish.” Dima huffs, causing Natalie to smile at them both but remains quiet knowing David will most likely have ten best men, that or elope to somewhere remote.

Despite it all, you feel like the two of you are in a bubble. You can drown out the applause because you’re to focus on David, your fiance, your future, your oldest friend that you’ll grow old with.

“We’re engaged.” You tell him as you rest your forehead on his. “Holy shit, we’re getting married.”

David nods to you, his smile still bright. “You okay with this?”

“Honestly, I’m relieved.” You tell him as you let out a sigh. “I thought you were breaking up with me.” An awkward laugh escapes your lips as you rise to your feet.

“Then this is a good surprise.” David smiles as he slips the ring onto your finger. “Heres to us, Mrs Dobrik to be.”

“And you, Mr Dobrik. Well, that doesn’t work but to my eventual husband?” You question and shrug your shoulders before wrapping your arms around David as the crowd begins to disperse, but your friends remain capturing the last of the precious scene.

One that was never anticipated to pan out this well.

#this was so cute to write #i hope you liked it!#david #david dobrik #david dobrik x reader #vlogsquad #vlog squad #vlog squad imagine #vlog squad imagines #vlogsquad imagines #vlogsquad imagine #david dobrik imagine #david dobrik imagines #vlogsquad fluff #vlogsquad angst #vlog squad angst #vlog squad fluff #david dobrik fluff #david dobrik angst

813 notes · View notes

thefightingbull · 4 years

Text

A Boy Needs His Father Pt. 2

@elloryia, sorry couldn’t resist another piece

Mick stopped the lawnmower as he watched his son jump out of Len’s Jetta and slam the door shut with terrible force. Leonard got out after the car turned off and shouted for Jason to stop, but the little boy ran onto the front porch, ignoring a direct command from Leonard for the first time since they’d brought him home.

“Jason stop!” Mick snarled in a deep, powerful alpha voice that froze the boy in his tracks. “Turn your ass around right now.”

“Mick, just back off,” Leonard sighed as he walked over to their somewhat frozen child. “You don’t even know what’s going on.”

“I know he ignored you and was slamming doors,” Mick growled as they both approached Jason.

When Mick got a look at Jason, he felt his rage boil over as he growled at Leonard. “What the fuck happened?”

Jason’s left eye was rapidly bruising and his lip was busted and swollen on the same side. Mick’s pup looked like he’d taken a hell of a beating and the alpha in him roared for blood. His pack, his son, his pup had been struck by a stranger and left marked! Someone would pay. That’s all there was to it.

Leonard shivered at the effects of the alpha voice and then glared at him. “Don’t use that tone on me, Mick, or I’ll leave you with more than a case of blue balls.”

Mick ignored his omega’s threat and watched as Leonard pulled Jason into his arms and nuzzled him. The omega made sure to scent the boy as he cuddled him. Mick crouched down beside the pair and sighed. Maybe he shouldn’t have snapped without knowing what was happening, but at the moment he had larger concerns.

“What happened?” Mick tried in a softer tone, hoping all would be forgiven with both his omega mate and his son.

“He won’t tell me. It didn’t happen at school, though, or we would have been called,” Lenny frowned. “Jason, come on. You need to tell us what happened.”

Mick knew deep down that Jason wasn’t going to say anything to Leonard. He didn’t know how he knew, but the kid was ashamed, and Jason didn’t like being coddled at the moment. Mick could tell by how stiff the pup was and how he tried to hide his face, keeping his eyes turned away from Leonard in particular.

“Let me have him.” Mick held out his arms.

“I can handle it.” Leonard scowled.

Normally Mick would love to sit and argue, but he didn’t have time for this. There was still a lot of work to be done in the yard before the sun went down and he wanted to finish it. He also didn’t want to wait for Jason to find his voice or for Leonard to figure out he was actually the cause of Jason’s distress. His omega would be hurt by it.

He stood up, grabbing Jason as he did and placed the kid on his hip. Jason somewhat helped as he held on, but he turned his face away again. Mick could feel the tears falling into his shoulder, but kept quiet about it.

“Fine,” Leonard hissed icily.

“Len, don’t even,” Mick stated calmly. “A boy needs his father. It’s nothing to be offended about.”

Leonard took a deep breath and then nodded before he got to his feet and headed inside. When the door shut gently, Mick was relieved. It meant his partner was seeing reason. Now all he had to do was get his pup to do the same and they could all get back on with their merry little lives.

“Okay, Jason, what happened?” he asked softly.

Thankfully, Jason turned to face him, his bruises radiating a small bit of heat that Mick was able to feel. He took Jason away from the front of the house and moved to the front of the yard near the lawnmower. Once they were seated on the ground, he shuffled Jason a bit so that the boy was sitting in his lap.

“If you talk softly, Dad won’t hear,” Mick promised.

“I got beat up.” Jason’s bottom lip trembled.

“Yes, I see that,” he said, trying not to let on how much it enraged him. “By who?”

“These older boys were calling a girl names, and she started to cry,” Jason started. “I told them to shut their mouths and we got into a fight.”

Mick nodded. “You don’t seem like the kind of pup who cries over a few bruises.”

“I’m not crying because of that!” Jason shouted. “I’m… I’m just so fucking pissed off!”

Mick covered his mouth to keep from laughing at the explanation. Once he was sure his surprised laughter had subsided, he gave Jason a stern look. “I’ll let you get by with pissed and damn, but you aren’t going to be running around spouting off the ‘F’ word, got it?”

“Yes, Pop” Jason said, nodding as a few more tears fell. “But I got so mad and then I started crying! I don’t even know why that happened!”

“Still is,” Mick snickered as he gently brushed a few tears away with his knuckles. “You need to take a few deep breaths and settle down, son.”

Once more, Jason nodded and took three big, deep breaths. “Dad kept wanting to know who did it, or how old they were and I was so pissed off because I shouldn’t have gotten beat up at all! ‘Cept they were cheating cause all of them were trying to get me and Kasey was being a useless ass!”

“Jason, language, last warning.”

The small boy looked him over and must have decided Mick was serious, because he nodded once and then continued his story.

“I don’t mind that I lost ‘cause it was four against one! But I’m so mad, Pop! I just want to hurt them worse than anything ever, and Dad hates bullies. What if he starts to hate me, too! What if he finds out I hit them first! He’ll get rid of me!”

Mick felt his heart ache at the sight of his son breaking down. Len and Lisa had some major issues with their father and his nasty temper. The man was a drunk and abusive. Everything a bully tended to be when they grew up. Was Jason hearing snippets of conversations? Had their son overheard Leonard’s talks with some of the Rogues about his hatred for bullies and abusers?

It certainly explained why the boy didn’t want Leonard to look at him.

“Look at me, Jason,” Mick ordered. He took the boy’s chin between his thumb and forefinger to be sure the boy didn’t try to look back down. “Neither of us are ever going to cast you off, do you understand? You are not Lewis Snart and you are not Willis Todd. You are Jason Leonard Rory forever and always.”

“But what if I grow up to be just like Willis? Victims sometimes become abusers; my counselor said so,” Jason insisted.

“You think we’d let that happen?” Mick asked. “Look at it this way, son, my mom and dad… they were good. They didn’t care for fire. I turned out nothing like them. And your daddy? Does he seem like a bully to you?”

“No,” Jason said, shaking his head.

“Lisa’s not a bully either, is she?”

Jason finally smiled. “No, but she’s still mean sometimes.”

“Well, that’s just Lisa’s personality,” Mick snorted. “Lewis Snart was never hurt by his old man. Dillon Snart was a good man and a good cop, but Lewis came out as twisted as they come. Some people just have it in ‘em. I know; I’ve seen it. But you? Never. Even if we’d left you in Gotham, you’d never have become anything like them.”

“But I attacked them first,” Jason sniffled. “They were only name-calling, but I was the first to throw my fist and Dad says only bullies hit first.”

“It wasn’t to stop someone from hitting you?” Mick asked.

“No, Sir.” Jason frowned.

“Then you’re right. You messed up, Jason. Don’t matter what people say, you don’t go around hitting them over words.” Mick pulled the kid into a tight hug before he got the wrong impression. “Just because you made a mistake though, it don’t mean you’re banished or disowned.”

“But Dad hates bullies,” Jason said, sniffling hard.

“Dad doesn’t hate you,” Mick promised. “Even if you turned out like Lewis Snart, you’d break his heart, but he’d never hate you.”

“Jason.”

They both looked up at Leonard. The sneaky bastard had probably been listening the whole time.

Once again their son’s pretty blue eyes filled with tears as he looked up at Leonard. “Yeah?”

Leonard dropped to his knees and held out his arms. The boy practically leaped out of Mick’s arms and into his other father’s. They hugged each other tightly.

“Mick’s right; I could never hate or disown you. I’m not that cold.” Leonard offered a smile.

To Mick’s relief, Jason laughed at his dad’s pun.

“I’m sorry I hit them first,” he said softly.

“It’s complicated, Pup,” Mick threw in and reached out to touch the boy’s hair in a show of physical support. “But you’re young. You’re gonna fuck up now and again.”

Warning, icy blue eyes caught Mick’s as Leonard shook his head. “Don’t talk like Mick or you’ll wind up with a bar of soap in your mouth. Now go inside and get cleaned up. You and I are going to have a talk about today and what to do in the future.”

“Okay.”

Jason was released from Leonard’s arms and ran into the house.

“Thanks for the assist,” Mick said with a smirk.

“Well, a boy needs his father,” Leonard said as he rolled his eyes. “You’re more than welcome to join us for the talk.”

“Nah, the pup knows I love him, you’re the one he’s scared of losing,” Mick teased.

“Watch it, Alpha,” Leonard sneered before walking over to him.

Mick leaned in and kissed his omega. “Go take care of our pup, Babe.”

Leonard headed toward the house. “Don’t worry, Alpha. I’ll make sure our pup knows he’s never getting tossed out in the cold.”

#ojtserversunday #coldwave #dc cw characters #alpha mick rory #omega leonard snart #not yet presented jason todd #adopted #mild angst #fluff and comfort #father son bonding #prompt fill

37 notes · View notes

elareine · 4 years

Text

Don't make me close one more door (DamiDick)

“Investing in health care is not just an investment in the current workforce. It’s also an investment in education and our future.” Richard gestured towards the graph projected onto the screen behind him. “Ladies, gentlemen, and gentlefolks, did you know that providing treatment for worm infections is the single most effective measure we can take to increase the days kids in developing nations spend in schools?”

Inwardly, Damian smiled. In a minute or so, Richard would switch to images of tapeworms. Watching people react to that was a highlight of these evenings.

There had been a bit of an argument, as always, about how close Damian was allowed to stand. In Damian’s opinion, a bodyguard that wasn’t close to enough to shield their charge with their body wasn’t worth a penny. Richard, of course, argued that he needed to be unencumbered and free to move on stage. (And on a walk. And doing his job. And doing his volunteer work. And—every day, all day, really.)

It was a well-worn argument, by now; a habit more than a real fight. Damian stood a few meters away, blending into the curtains of the stage as well as he could. His partner and occasional relief, Colin, was guarding the other way onto the stage. Richard had moaned and whined, but he was wearing the bulletproof vest. Damian had checked.

It was a good comprise, he thought, one that left him free to listen to Richard’s speech with half an ear, noting the rapture on the audience’s face with some amusement.

In the beginning, he had constantly imagined himself in Richard’s place. His rightful place at his father’s side—or so he had thought back then. The heir to a fortune and a heritage that was very different from his mother’s.

These days?

Well. These days, Damian carried some too-sweet cereal bars with him to make sure Richard ate.

“How was that?” Richard asked when they were safe backstage. By now, he knew better than to ask Damian these questions when the younger man was trying to focus on possible threats in their environment, and Damian appreciated his reticence. It didn’t come naturally.

“Good,” Damian answered honestly. “Too wordy when you talked about the financial situation, of course, but you convinced everyone.”

Richard laughed. “Yes, I could see some eyes glazing over. I’ll have to adjust that part of the presentation. But it’s really for a good cause, you know. That’s the most convincing thing.”

“If you say so.” Damian doubted it. Richard was much more of an idealist than he was, but he surely must have noticed that it was his personal magnetism that drew people to—there was a stranger backstage. A big hulking figure, dressed in army cargoes and making their way toward them.

Damian’s eyes narrowed. He knew that walk, had followed that back through half a dozen combat missions. If Jason Todd was here to make trouble—

“Jason!” Richard called out, sounding delighted. He ran past Damian, completely ignoring his bodyguard’s protective stance to fling himself into Todd’s arms.

Todd, to his credit, only looked mildly inconvenienced at those proceedings, returning the hug gingerly. “Hi, Dick. Happened to be in town, thought I’d stop by.”

“Oh, now you do. And you just happened to forget letting us know beforehand, thereby ensuring that Bruce isn’t here to see you?”

“Exactly.”

Richard turned to Damian, gesturing excitedly. “Damian, this is my brother, Jason. He’s a fuckwit who doesn’t call often enough.”

“I can tell,” Todd said drily. “For example, I completely missed that you have a bodyguard now, much less one that’s so… well-trained.”

His eyes on Damian were thoughtful.

“Jason? Do you know Damian?” Richard asked.

Damian couldn’t help but hold his breath. If Todd chose to betray him now…

It wasn’t that he couldn’t fight his way out of the situation. He could. Todd was a formidable fighter, but he would have no reason to go all out on Damian.

But… Richard would be disappointed in him, Damian realized. If he was exposed like that—how would he be able to convince the other man that he had never meant to harm him, had stayed on only because he wished to keep Richard safe?

He could lose Richard, and at that moment, that was the most terrifying possibility of all.

“We worked security together in Afghanistan,” Todd said. It was not a lie. “Maybe he will tell you all about it.”

“I did not realize you are brothers,” Damian replied evenly, trying not to betray his relief.

“Yes, we do not much resemble each other, do we?” Richard asked ruefully. “And of course, Jason is always traveling around the globe these days.”

“If I remember correctly,” Damian dared to point out, “that is a better option than having him deliver a speech.”

It was the kind of ribbing they had shared many times in those darker days, back when they’d been trying to scout a cave system riddled with traps, and Todd reacted accordingly, shooting back: “Oh, look, he’s saying fifteen words in a row. Is that some kind of record?”

“Great, more bickering,” Richard groaned, though Damian could tell he was hiding a smile. “Can we at least get dinner while we insult each other?”

“Sure, as long as you’re not cooking.”

“It was nice, seeing Jason again,” Richard told Damian that evening as they were getting ready for sleep. He was stripping down to his shorts again; at this point, Damian had given up on trying to get him changed into something more suitable in case of an emergency.

He himself was changing into silk pajamas, his service weapon close at hand. Richard knew better than to comment on the knife holster strapped across Damian’s back. Damian seldomly took it off, and certainly not for sleep.

As always, they met in the middle of the bed, Richard crawling into Damian’s arms with a sigh. Early on in their relationship, Damian had realized that his charge craved bodily contact, needed touch like other people water. It had only been rational to offer to provide for that need himself, instead of having Richard go out and potentially endanger himself. That was how the need for a bodyguard had arisen in the first place, after all.

It was deeply unprofessional. Damian wouldn’t have it any other way.

By his side, Richard began to laugh. Damian supposed one could call it a chuckle, though it was more of a giggle, really. Though it wasn’t clear to him what was so funny.

“You put yourself between me and literally every entry-point.” Richard shook his head, still laughing. “You can’t stop doing your job, can you?”

Damian stayed silent. It was more than that. Protecting Richard had become part of his very nature. It wasn’t about preserving the symbol anymore—Richard Grayson, born to the circus life, adoptive son of Bruce Wayne, a shining symbol of change in this city, advocate for healthcare and justice reform—it was about making sure that Richard could laugh like this every day.

“Anyway,” Richard murmured, talkative as always. “I was saying—it was good to see Jason again. I would’ve never known about your past, otherwise.”

They were so close. Damian knew there was no way Richard would miss the change in his breathing. “I am not so mysterious.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Richard mused. “A man in his late twenties, evidently terrifyingly well trained in all fighting styles imaginable, shows up with a resume that’s faked well enough it manages to fool even Bruce for a while. Instead of enacting any dastardly schemes, he’s prevented at least three assassination plots he thinks I don’t know about and cuddles me every night. I’d call that plenty mysterious.”

“I—” Damian felt lost. On the one hand, this was his chance to come clean to Richard, as he should have done months ago. On the other hand… he couldn’t bring himself to lose this; not now that he knew what it meant to him, to have Richard so close, safe in his arms.

There was a warm hand on his cheek, bringing him back into the present. “I’m giving you a blank cheque tonight,” Richard told him. “Tell me everything, and I promise I will not be angry.”

Damian shook his head. “You cannot promise that.”

“Maybe not.” Despite the concession, Richard was beginning to smile. “But I can promise you that I will not push you away, no matter how angry I am. If I am, which is less likely than you think. You’ve done more to earn my trust than… anyone, in a long time.”

“I lied to you.” A lie of omission was a lie, nonetheless. Damian had seen people killed for less.

“You earned it through your actions, not your words. Tell me about yourself, Damian,” Richard whispered, dropping the gentlest of kisses on Damian’s forehead. “Tell me about yourself, and stay.”

It felt like a benediction.

Damian took a deep breath. “I was born in 1990 in the Syrian steppe. No one knew who my father was then…”

#damidick #elareine writes #advent calendar 2019

50 notes · View notes

iwritethat · 5 years

Text

Jason Todd: Engravings

A/N: Italics are flashbacks, this ones a lil different to my usual style.

>>>>—————————>

———

"They're cool, kinda badass and luckily these ones are blank!"

"They're cheap and tacky. They haven't been engraved yet - where'd you steal 'em from?" He was always quick to pass judgement but it came from a kind place.

"Stall on the corner, I want to carve my name into it but I'm scared of messing it up."

"..."

———

"(Y/n) - Boss, we've captured the intruder and tied 'em up downstairs - want us to dispose of him?" Your peaceful drink at the bar was interrupted causing a halt to your paperwork as you glared at him.

"My my, so quick to get to the murder. You know it's both polite and resourceful to at least ask what they wanted, so come on." Placing down your pen, you ensured you looked presentable before heading down to the basement with your men strictly following like soldiers.

———

Your hands shook ever so slightly, fingers guiding the knife situated between them in sheer concentration though you'd yet to even graze the shiny steel. You winced, pulling away the blade with a frustrated sigh.

"Give it here, a knife is too big anyway." The exasperated tone of your friend reprimanded, briskly untangling the chain from your fingertips, then glaring at it before shoving it in his pocket and walking off into the alley leaving you with no explanation which left you to business on the streets.

———

The doors flung open signifying your arrival and the discovery was less than pleasant, a decently built male securely tied to a chair with guards standing on either side and his jacket and under armour folded on the table beneath his crimson helmet.

"Why did you uh... remove half of his clothes? That seems a tad unnecessary..."

"Ah that symbol electrocutes anyone in close proximity as Mal discovered but we didn't make that mistake twice." A henchmen quickly answered, sheepish expression on his face.

"Hm, clever. Is Mal okay though?" Not many held concern for their hired guns but you were a rare exception which is why your company were renowned for their loyalty toward you. Nevertheless, one of the guards nodded with a smile, once more placing down the offending piece of armour.

"Alright dumbass, what were you thinking breaking into my fine establishment?" Came your charming voice, fingers grazing across the back of the chair before stopping in front of your ravenette prisoner.

"That's no way to talk to your guests sweetheart, but admittedly it's one of the nicest places I've broken into." His icy gaze finally met yours, and that was when you noticed the reflective glint on his bare chest.

Instantly you knelt before the handsome stranger, fingertips barely brushing the heated silver before you received a vicious threat.

"Touch that and I'll personally make you regret it."

Regardless of his venomous attitude, you gently grasped the engraved dog tags - the gesture definitely not unnoticed by their wearer nor the foreign expression that briefly crossed your features.

———

"Oi!" The moment you'd acknowledged the voice, a slither of steel was slung in your direction capturing the light of the moon as it flew through the air.

You barely caught it, faltering before recognising the item and running your thumb over the new alterations.

'Name: (Y/n) (L/n)' accompanied by your birth date with enough space for another line if needed. However, you filtered through the next one as the tags originally came in a pair but this one was different.

'Name: Jason Todd'

'DoB: 16/08'

———

What surprised the majority in the room was your next swift movement, using the chain entangled around your digits you pulled him down to your level bringing your lips to his ear to prevent eavesdropping guards as a precaution.

"If you're Jason Todd, then what does (Y/n) (L/n) mean to you?" With your secretive whisper, the males muscles instinctively tensed and he looked to you with shock in his irises before scowling.

"That's a bold assumption."

"No, the fact you wear jewellery underneath your getup suggests it's sentimental. As it's a pair of engraved dog tags I would've thought military but there's no ID number and they're close to your heart aren't they?" Was your solemn explanation despite knowing exactly what they represented, though you still felt resentment radiating off of the captive as you waved your guards out of the room to speak more freely.

"How do you know I'm not (Y/n) (L/n) smartass?" Was his comeback, wrists twisting in his restraints.

"Because they're incredibly attractive, duh."

"Wait - you know (Y/n)? If you've done anything -" His voice seemed more lively now, like emotion was tied to that name and the hope of finding them.

"Just tell me why you're here already as I might be able to help." Unbeknownst to him, the person he seemed interested in stood right before him - not that you’d tell Jason that just yet.

———

"Why's your name on here?" You mischievously inquired, smirking at your now flustered friend.

"Wha- well because I made it, it's my signature duh." He shoved his hands into his pockets, gaze diverted to Gothams' skyline and pout upon his lips that only made you laugh.

"Uh-huh suuurre."

"If you don't want it then throw my one back." Came the snappy callout, Jason now looking at you expectantly.

"And split them up? That'll look weird." You shook your head, playfully pulling the tags away from his grip as he went for them and proudly clipped them around your neck.

"People probably say the same about us to be honest."

"What was that red?!" You didn't quite hear whatever he'd muttered under his breath, but knowing it would've been somewhat sentimental his defensive reply was expected.

"Nothing jeez!"

———

"I want Black Masks location. Now your turn."

"Roman has no influence over me or my club but I know some regulars who work for him so we can sort something out." With a brisk motion you'd slit the restraints on his wrists thus freeing him.

It was a stupid thing to do, your fingers instantly reaching for your necklace out of nervousness once you'd turned your back on him - it was a habit, you'd put your faith into a common criminal and were hoping he wouldn't kill you now he had the opportunity.

Instantly you realised your mistake, seconds later you ended up with your back roughly trapped against the table, knife to your throat and 6ft war god holding you right where he wanted you.

"Thanks for the assist doll, but you never answered my question about -" As he pulled back, there was a strain, a twinkle of metal against metal as the two chains kept you tied together.

His gaze flicked from the interlocked dog tags then back to you, recognition flooding him instantly as the knife clattered against the tile and his brows furrowed as of analysing you.

"You were right, (Y/n) is incredibly attractive..." Jason was breathless, a contrast of awe and snugness on his handsome features.

"Speaking of, clothes!" You’d grabbed the folded material and shoved it into his chest with a huff whilst subtly attempting to hide your undoing due to the close proximity.

It didn’t take much to detangle the chains so he could get dressed but not without a somewhat interesting reunion - it had been a few years since you were misguided street kids.

"I heard you were dead." Jason started, no doubt he’d inquired about you on the streets but judging by the last man any of your old acquaintances saw you with, you didn’t blame them for their presumptions.

"I heard you were dead."

"Touché, I came back though. Not 100%, but back." Jason commented, scratching the back of his neck which already told you this was a sensitive subject that you noted to delve into in the near future among other things.

"We really changed huh, you got adopted by Bruce Wayne, I got taken in by Carmine Falcone and now we're on the same side again. Sort of..." You playfully shrugged, offering your friend a small smirk.

"Falcone - you became a freaking underground crimelord?!" His shock was evident, jacket dropping to floor whilst he rubbed his temples then gesturing for you to elaborate.

"Says you! Look I did what I did to survive, after Falcone was killed I stayed out of everyone's way and kept this club and it’s profits under my control. No one owns me anymore. But nice to see you kept my nickname for you Red Hood!"

“I knew you’d do great and I have my reasons, it’s not just because of you. Anyway, Black Mask - we should probably y’know...” The big bad vigilante was flustered, a gift of yours that supposedly maintained its effectiveness through the change and so you couldn’t help but continue.

“Are you sure, you did call me attractive.”

“Yeah well you are so... whatever. And besides, you’re rich but kept the cheap dogtags so I guess I’m not the only sentimental one.” Jason closed the distance as he spoke, a gentle brush over your heart as he tugged on your tags with a smirk.

Since you seem in so much of a hurry I’d love to properly catch up some time if you’d allow it. So I f you’re quite done staring at my lips Jason I’ve got a club to open and there’s someone we need to speak to.” You tilted your head in a challenging manner before making your way to the staircase with a devious smirk as you finished your implied invitation.

“...I haven’t missed you at all. Just so you know (Y/n)!” Your partner hollered after you, hastily throwing on his jacket and grabbing the helmet before joining your side with a playful nudge as you walked to the bar.

———

"Even though you're rich now, you still haven't grown out of throwing things at people!" You mocked anger, huffing at the offender.

"Not people, just you." Jason wittily replies along with a wink.

"Oh wow, thanks I'm honoured." Your sarcasm was fluent, inspecting what he’d thrown at you before commenting on the chain.

"Jason what's this, they're replicas of the dog tags I wear already."

"Yeah I know, but these are silver. They're better." His light blush went amiss as he stopped before you with his explanation.

"You brought these?"

"Figured I might as well get you something, besides like you said, I'm rich now."

"Keep 'em." You effortlessly tossed them back, Jason catching them with both disbelief and confusion.

"But I-"

"I don't care - I don't want them. I like my ones - they're had crafted by Jason Todd and I have the crafters signature to prove it. Although since they are almost a matching set..." You trailed off, Jason's curiosity piqued as you unclasped the silver and walked behind the male who, despite his wealthy residence, kept his red hoodie.

"You should keep it, that way you'll have me close to your heart like you are to mine." Came your continuation, latching the tags around his neck whilst you walked around to face him, fingers lingering on the silver in the centre of his chest.

"Never knew you cared."

"Oh I don't, but I still have the original Red. And the originals are always more valuable."

———

#jason todd #jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood imagine #dc #dc imagine

132 notes · View notes

navpike · 5 years

Text

cry out what you need to: chapter 1

“Okay, so, you know my partner, Amy Rohrbach? She died, on Sunday. And she had a daughter. She’s five years old and she had no other family and they were going to put her in the system and I just felt so--” “Dick, did you adopt the kid?” “I adopted the kid.”

Or, the one where Dick adopts a child, learns to balance parenting and superheroing, and falls in love, not necessarily in that order.

Chapter One: Rona [on ao3]

Dick has no idea what he’s doing, if he’s being honest with himself. He doesn’t know what possessed him to agreed to do this, or why he thought it was a good idea, or why he thought he is at all qualified to raise a whole child by himself.

But the important thing is that he’s done it.

And now he cannot undo it.

He’s a dad now, and dear god if that is not the most terrifying goddamn thing. Scarier than facing the Joker, or an angry Alfred, or Babs after he’s done something stupid.

But what else could he have done?

Amy Rohrbach was the best partner he’d ever had, probably the best cop Gotham PD has ever seen, and she had died because he had failed to watch her back. He had been sloppy in the field, and it was because of that that Amy had died. It was because of him that her five year old daughter was an orphan now, with no close family to look after her. So what else could he have done, besides take the kid in? He had failed to look after her mother, he wasn’t about to fail the kid too. His foster license is always up to date, in case a kid in the middle of a case needs a temporary placement for a day or two until they can be safely placed into a more permanent foster home, so it was just a matter of filing a bit of paperwork. A few signatures and a hearing with a judge, and he’s a dad.

He’s only a little bit completely out of his depth.

He gains custody of Rona Rohrbach, moves her into the penthouse, and begins to make funeral arrangements for Amy all in the same day. It feels like the day drags on forever.

He can’t imagine how it feels for Rona.

The next few days pass in a haze, and before he knows it, he’s holding Rona’s hand while they put her mother in the ground. He wonders if this is how Pop Haly felt, when he stood by and watched Dick watch his parents get buried. Dick’s chest feels tight as he watches Amy’s casket lowered into the grave, and he swipes away a few stray tears. He’s never much cared about people seeing him cry, but right now, he has to be strong for Rona. He’ll have time to really mourn later. For now, he’s got a little girl to be there for.

He holds tight to her hand as they step forward to toss white roses into the grave, and then Rona turns around and clutches at Dick’s leg. As the funeral party disperses, she starts sobbing, big fat tears that soak into his suit pants, crying hard enough that not a single sound escapes her.

Dick scoops her up, and holds her tight, and walks them both back to his car, the one he “borrowed” from the penthouse garage, because his bike is not suitable for transporting a young child. He settles her into the back seat and climbs in on the other side and just sits for a minute, letting her cry out what she needs to.

“Rona?” Dick says softly, when she finally seems to settle a bit.

She sniffles miserably, and swipes her snotty nose on the back of her hand and looks at Dick with big wet eyes. “I miss my mommy,” she says, with a trembling lower lip.

Dick’s heart clenches in his chest as he reaches out to take her hand. “I know sweetheart. I know you miss her, and I’m so sorry that you can’t see her. I miss her too. But she’ll always be here with you, right here,” he says, tapping over his own heart twice. “And I’m going to be here to look after you, since she can’t. We’ll take it one step at a time, and we’ll do it together, okay? So, first step. How about we go back home now, and I’ll make us some dinner, if you’re up for eating something?”

She nods, and sniffles again, and Dick makes a mental note to stash a box of tissues in the car from now on as he climbs into the driver’s seat and takes them home.

When they get back to the penthouse, he takes her into the room that’s been claimed as hers and helps her change from the uncomfortable dress she’d worn for the funeral into something more comfortable. He leads the way back to the living room, then, and sits her down on the couch, flipping on the TV and passing her the remote, to let her switch through channels until she settles on some kids show he’s certain she’s not paying attention to.

“How do we feel about spaghetti and meatballs for dinner, huh?” he asks, hoping to get some kind of reaction from her.

She only nods, though, and mutters a quiet, “Yes, please.”

Dick sighs and heads for the kitchen. He supposes that he can only do so much for a little girl who’s just lost her mother, but he still wishes he could be doing more. He is tracking the man who shot Amy, the only one who got away from that scene, and he is going to bring them to justice if it’s the last thing he does, but that still doesn’t feel like enough.

And then, he reminds himself that it cannot be the last thing he does. He has a child to look after now, and that has to come before anything else, because he will not leave her alone again.

He pinches the bridge of his nose as he watches a pot of water waiting for it to boil.

As he watches a single bubble rise to the surface, he is hit with the most terrifying realization he’s ever had.

He hasn’t told Alfred yet.

He hasn’t told Bruce or Babs or any of his siblings, for that matter, but the more pressing thing is the fact that he hasn’t told Alfred, because Alfred is the one that scares him.

Dick spends the rest of the time he’s making dinner debating what to do about that, and almost overcooks everything he gets so distracted thinking about it. Still, he does manage to get dinner on the table without major incident. When he calls her, Rona hops off the couch and goes to the kitchen, and asks if he wants her to set the table, as though this is a routine they’ve worked on for years, even though she’s only lived with him for three days.

He dishes her out some food as she places the cutlery and napkins he’d given her out on the table, and he’s just about to hand her the plate when he remembers something that Roy had done for Lian when he’d had dinner with them once, a few months ago. Instead of handing her the plate as is, Dick takes a moment to cut everything into bite sized pieces, and places that in front of her.

As he expected she would, Rona does nothing more than pick at her food, but he doesn’t say anything about it, besides encouraging her to eat some vegetables.

“I’ve got to make a phone call after dinner, okay, kiddo? So after I clean up dinner, I’m going to do that, and then I’ll help you get ready for bed when I’m done, okay?” Rona nods, and stabs a green bean with more force than is probably necessary, dragging it through the pasta sauce on her plate. “While I’m on the phone, why don’t you pick out a book for us to read before bed? We brought a few from your house, remember?” She nods again, though she seems to perk up a little bit at that, and then they lapse into relative silence for the rest of the meal.

When Dick finally gives up on Rona eating anything more, he tells her she’s excused, and she slips away with a quiet, “Thanks for dinner.”

As he tidies up, he tries to make a plan for the immediate future.

It’s a Wednesday, and Rona’s already missed the week of school up until this point, so he figures there’s no reason to make her go for the rest of the week, so he’ll let her take Thursday and Friday off, to give her a chance to get used to the sudden change in everything. Maybe he’ll take Friday to take her out to the manor to meet Alfred and Bruce and whoever else is there. He knows Jason and Cass are in Star City working a case with Roy and Dinah, and Tim is in Metropolis running down a few leads for something else with Kon, and Damian will likely be in school on a weekday, so it’s a good time to go, so she won’t be overwhelmed. They can take Saturday, and Sunday if need be to go back to the Rohrbach’s place to pack up all of Rona’s things, and he’ll go back and pack up the rest of the house while she’s at school the next week so she doesn’t have to see her whole life put away in boxes. He’ll have everything put away in storage somewhere so Rona can decide what she wants to do with it all of it when she gets older, and have the house put on the market, and put whatever money is made off of that into a savings account for Rona for college or something.

He’s got all of next week off of work, so he’ll be able to make it work, and maybe he’ll be able to recruit Steph to help if he asks her nice and buys her a bottle of wine. Maybe he’ll offer to let her use his motorcycle too. Doesn’t seem like it’ll be getting much use, what with the kid and everything, and he’d hate to let it sit unused, and with Steph in college, she doesn’t have the income to have a car, so she’d probably appreciate it. Yeah. He’ll do that.

First things first though, he has to call Alfred and Bruce.

His heart races as the line rings.

“Hello, Master Dick, excellent timing, I’ve just finished tidying up from supper,” Alfred’s voice says on the other end of the line when the ringing stops.

Dick takes a deep breath and tries not to jitter straight out of his skin.

“Hey, Alfie, is Bruce around? I want to talk to you both.”

“Are you quite alright? You don’t sound well.” Dick can hear the concern lacing Alfred’s voice, and his footsteps as he moves through the manor.

“I’m fine, I promise, I’ve just got some big news.”

“I see,” Alfred says, and then quieter, as though he’s pulled the phone away from his face, “Master Bruce, Master Dick is on the line, he wishes to speak to us both.”

“Dick, you’re on speaker, what’s going on?” says Bruce’s voice.

Dick takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “Okay, so, you know my partner, Amy Rohrbach?” When he hears answers to the affirmative, he continues. “She died, on Sunday. She was shot while we were out on a call, and I couldn’t… I tried, but there was nothing I could’ve done. Her funeral was today.”

“Dick, I’m so sorry.”

“That’s not it,” Dick says, before Bruce can get any further. “Rohrbach… Amy had a daughter. She’s five years old and she had no other family that could be found and they were going to put her in the system and I just felt so-- I couldn’t let that happen. And you know I already had the foster license so I just--”

“Dick, did you adopt the kid?”

“I adopted the kid.”

“I know you wanted to do good by this girl, but did you really think this through, Dick? A child is a lot of responsibility.”

Alfred clears his throat. “Pot, I invite you to meet the kettle.”

Dick stifles a laugh and Bruce grumbles something that Dick can’t make out, but that’s it. He doesn’t question the decision any further.

“How is the young miss doing, then, Master Dick?” Alfred asks.

“She’s missing her mom, but that’s only to be expected. She’s quiet and a little withdrawn, but she seems to be taking the move well at least. Small mercies, and all that.”

“You’ve brought her to your apartment? Master Dick that is hardly the best place for a child to be raised.”

“I know, I know. It was fine when I would take kids in for a night or two, but I know it’s not good for a kid. We’re at the penthouse. Temporarily at least. I was going to start looking for a better place soon.”

“Don’t bother,” Bruce says, in his strained, I-don’t-want-to-show-emotions voice. “Any granddaughter of mine only deserves the best. Stay there. I don’t want you worrying about apartment hunting on top of everything else. You’ve got enough on your plate.”

Dick heaves a sigh of relief. Holy shit is he glad Bruce just said that. Sure he would’ve been able to find a place just fine, it wouldn’t have been the tallest order. But he’s so glad that he doesn’t have to worry about that all on top of worrying about Rona and packing away his partner’s life to be stuck in a storage unit to gather dust.

God he’s going to miss Amy.

As distant as he had tried to keep himself at work, he couldn’t help but care for Amy. She was nothing but a good person, a good cop, and he knew she cared for her more than anything in the world.

He shakes his head to shake the thought. He can be sad later.

“I’m gonna keep her home from school the rest of the week, and I’ve got some time off work so she can have a chance to adjust to being here, and this weekend we’re going to go back to Amy’s place so I can let her decide what she wants to pack up and take with her. But I was hoping that on Friday we could stop by the manor? I know everyone else is out of town for a bit and I wanted to be able to introduce her to you without all of… that.”

“I know what you mean,” Bruce agrees, almost too easily. Dick coughs to cover an almost laugh. They both know their family can be overwhelming when they all get into one place. Dick knows he’s not innocent on that front either. “I’ll move some things around during the day. Bring her by for lunch.”

“That’s sounds good. Thank you, Bruce. Really. This is--Just thank you.”

“It’s not trouble at all, chum. Just do one thing for me?”

“Yeah, what’s that?”

“You want to tell us what her name is?”

Dick smacks himself in the forehead. “Her name is Rona.”

#dick grayson #dickwally #nightwing #dc #original child character #fic #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #amy rohrbach #mine #cowynt au

87 notes · View notes

comicsandmakeup · 5 years

Text

A House Filled with Pretty Things

Chapter 4: Group Therapy

Notes: I finally have a beta. The gorgeous Rivkae-Winters has kindly agreed to beta my work. So we might just get some decent writing out of me.

It’s a long chapter and I tried to break it up so it doesn’t hurt your eyes. Let me know what you think. You can also read it here.

Warning: Discussion of miscarriage, infertility, and child loss in this chapter!

Three Months Later:

He hadn't wanted to share.

When Jason first joined the group at the behest of his mates, he had entertained the idea only because Chelsea, his psychologist, said that he didn't need to share just listen.

So he did.

He listened to omega after omega recalled their own journey with infertility and child loss. Each story sadder than the next. One omega lost six babies to miscarriage before finally throwing in the towel and declaring herself a childless omega. There was a bitter finality in her voice that made his stomach clench and his shoulders scrunch inward. Another spoke about how he and his mate tried for several years only to be met with disappointment after each heat. He knew that feeling all too well. Another spoke about how unfair all this was. There were so many abusive parents out there who couldn’t fathom what an absolute gift their children were. Yet he, who would adore his children, couldn't even have one. Jason had entertained similar thoughts as well.

He listened to each of these stories, his eyes always on the floor staring at his shoes. He stayed as far away from the group as he could, not interacting with any of the other attendees.

Like clockwork when it came time for him to share, he always shook his head and passed the baton on by stating "Not Ready." And like always, the group moved on to the next story.

Yet Jason continued to come to each of their weekly meeting and listen to their stories. He listened to the struggles of those around him and somehow the tightness that wrapped itself around his heart like barbed wire loosened. Their stories which were so similar to his somehow helped him breathe a little clearer. And without any conscious thought on his part, he slowly started to share.

The need to say something gripped him suddenly when they were all taking a breather from a heavy session. His turn was next and instead of passing the baton on, he gripped the metal stick harder in his fist. It signified that he had the floor and he could feel all of the attendees looking at him. Normally he would have hated all the attention but the emotions churning away at his gut held most of his focus.

He cleared his throat and shuffled his feet, uncomfortable and on edge. He very nearly passed on the baton when a pale hand clenched his. Startled he followed the hand up to a tiny face. Warm sympathetic eyes the color of caramel greeted him. It was Justin, one of the attendees who had just experienced a still-birth. The hand in his squeezed harder and he smiled gently.

Jason couldn't explain it. He normally hated when people touched him, especially strangers but Justin like the other people in this group didn't feel like strangers. They spent weeks disclosing their most intimate thoughts and deepest fears, and suddenly the words crawled out of his throat without any effort on his part

He returned Justin's squeeze before letting go and finally turned towards the rest of the group. Chelsea had a soft smile on her face and nodded for him to speak. The rest of the omegas in attendance each smiled encouragingly at him.

"My name is Todd. I'm a detective." He started. There was no way he could explain what his real job was, so detective it was. It didn't matter anyway. The identities of everyone in this room was anonymous per Sanctuary's rules. Batman made sure of that.

A chorus of "Hi Todd." sounded out around him. He smiled.

"My mates and I started trying to conceive eleven months ago. It seemed like everyone around us was having babies. And I never really thought much about it. I was happy for them but a baby never factored in my plans for the future. It was after one of my good friends gained sole custody of his baby that I even entertained the idea of having a child." He began. He furrowed his brow and returned his gaze back to the floor, it somehow helped him recall the details better.

"Being a single dad was hard and I wanted to help, so I'd watch the baby when he had to work late. Or come over to his house to help him cook dinner and make organic baby food." He smiled, recalling the early days with Lian and Roy. "It was nice. She was such a sweet baby, hardly fussy at all. I enjoyed spending time with her. Taking care of her. A couple of months later, a family friend invited us out to Metropolis to celebrate Christmas with them. My mates and I went to visit them. He and his wife were expecting. Around the same time one of my mate's friends had twins, and suddenly the idea of a baby sounded more and more appealing."

Jason could still feel that burning want inside of him as he told this story.

He hated himself a bit for that delusion.

"My mates must have had similar ideas because they were the ones that approached me with baby talk and I agreed. They seemed so happy. They had no idea I had similar thoughts for a while now." He reminisced.

"We started right away. Trying to conceive and at first it was fun." He laughed bitterly. "Then one heat passed, then the next, and the next and nothing. Absolutely nothing. Every pregnancy test came back negative. I started dreading my heats. My mates could tell, but I was determined. So we tried harder. Still Nothing."

"I started getting desperate so I read up all that I could. I researched the hell out of the subject and I started charting my heats. Recording my basal temperature and tried every baby making position Cosmo listed. And even after all of that. Nothing!" His grip on the metal baton turned his knuckles white as he recalled those hellish months.

"After six months of 'trying'." Jason let go of the baton with one hand to make air-quotes. "I finally went to the doctor. She told me that it would take a miracle for me to conceive. I had completely ruined my insides when I was younger."

He tried to take several calming breaths before he could continue. To at least make an attempt at legibility, still the words came running out of him. "Nexium. It was a prescription drug marketed to poor omegas as a heat suppressant.” And one that had quickly found its way onto Gotham’s streets as well.

“What they didn't tell you was that it caused irreparable damage. One in twelve omegas experienced drastic changes in their heat cycles. One in thirty showed signs of blood clots and loss of vision. And finally one in fifty showed signs of infertility after prolonged use."

Jason could feel the looks of sorrow even as he focused intently on his hands as they clutched the baton.

Yep, that was him.

Jason Todd, the omega with the worst possible luck.

"I was on it for two years. It was the cheapest thing on the market and I couldn't afford anything else. I didn't even read the side effects! I just wanted the burning under my skin to stop!" He sobbed. He couldn’t remember when he started crying, but the tears ran down his face, down his neck, wetting the collar of his shirt.

A thin hand, Justin's, rubbed soothing circles on his back. It reminded him of his mother, though Catherine was never well enough to comfort him.

That had always been his job.

Still it helped him carry on with the rest of his tragic tale.

"After my doctor's visit, I just shut down. I wanted nothing to do with babies. Kids in general. I threw away all my conception journals. All my charts. Everything. I refused to talk about with anyone, including my mates. They tried to get me to open up but I was dead set on putting all of it past me." Someone passed him some tissues so he took a couple of seconds to wipe his face before continuing. "I threw myself into my work, determined to move on. I acted like I hadn't spent the last six months trying to make a baby. For the next couple of months, all I did was work."

"I didn't even know I was pregnant." He gasped out. "There was no signs or symptoms. I had stopped journaling weeks ago, so I wasn't tracking anything. I wholeheartedly believed that I couldn't ever conceive, so I thought I didn't have anything to worry about." Tears continued to run down his face.

"I went out that night looking for three missing children." He explained, trying his best not to break down then and there.

"My partners and I, we found them in an abandoned warehouse, just on the outskirts of the city. They located and tended to the hostages while I subdued the perpetrator.” It should have been so simple.

“He didn't even hit me that hard. I have had worse over the course of my career, so I thought nothing of it.” Jason sucked in a breath through his nose and let it out slowly, struggling against the veritable tsunami of grief that had reached it’s crest inside of him.

“He was arrested and the kids returned to their families. It was by all accounts a win."

"I didn't even know anything was wrong until much later when the cramping began. I brushed it off at first but soon it radiated all across my back and genitals. I tried to take a bath, hoping that it would help. It didn't." Taking a shaky breath, he braced himself for the most damning details of the entire story.

"That's when I noticed the blood. I think I passed out. When I woke up, I was strapped to a hospital bed. They told me what happened. The child I wasn't supposed to have been able to conceive, I lost. The miracle baby I couldn't have, died before I could even meet him or her."

"Anyway that's my story." A bitter sob escaped unbidden, his lip quivering. Tears running down his face.

Jason passed the baton on, feeling lighter. Hollow. Lost in his own world as the Omega seated on his other side spoke.

#A House Filled with Pretty Things #brujay #brudickjay #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #my attempt at fanfiction

5 notes · View notes

lol-jackles · 6 years

Note

Why do you think jensen is so obsessed with Jared? I mean sure, he is possessive but I feel like a lot of friends are. Or his possessiveness could even be part of the persona he is supposed to act like during cons. (Remember how you said they usually have to act a little for cons too?) and if he’s jealous of Jared, wouldn’t he be the opposite of possessive?

Jealous the opposite of possessive? No offense but how old are you? You are either very young or you are missing hella lot of social cues. Jealousy and possessiveness are often considered the same thing, the difference is the former is a feeling and the latter is a behavior. You are jealous of your boyfriend’s hot female friends, but he doesn’t know unless you tell him to stop being friends with them.

Self-aware codependent’s first question are, how do I cure myself of jealousy and codependency ? Some just accept that their jealousy will always be part of them and try to curb their behavior from affecting their relationship with their partner.

Sure friends can get a little jealous and possessive of their friends, just like we have dependeny needs and healthy relationshps can meet those needs that benefit us. But ratched those items for several notches and it goes into codependency territory where friends don’t reap those benefits because they relate to others in unhealthy ways with patterns of obsession, dysfunctional communication, self sacrifice, and control. Instead of respecting each other’s separateness and individuality, they can’t tolerate disagreement and blame one another for causing their problems without taking responsibility for themselves. Sometimes, what they dislike in their partner is the very thing they can’t accept in themselves.

Check out this funny checklist on Are You Obsessed with your BFF? I like #7 on the list - “You can’t think of a future without her. While you may be able to see yourself married with two kids someday, your friend is always there, too. You know, right in the house next door.”

Lets put aside the codependency thing and look at the sad reality of grown-up friendships (generalization disclaimer… whatever you know the drill) When men hit their 30’s many cling to friends they made in their 20s, usually in college. If these don’t last ( Is it just me… or does everyone lose friends in their 30s?.) men have a hard time forming new friendships that are confidants, people who you are willing to share your innermost self to because you feel it will be valued and accepted. Women are (generalization disclaimer…. stereotype whatever) better at cultivating these relationships but men? Not so much. With one exception, men who get married to wives gets a free pass to a rich social life. Look what Danneel brings to Jensen’s social life: her himbo brother and hanger-on Steve Carlson. Losers. She doesn’t appear to have many female friends who would have brought their partners into the social ciricle.

Come on if you’re stuck with a Gino, a Jason Mann, and a Steve Carlson, wouldn’t you be a tad obsessively possessive of Jared too?

6 notes · View notes

jhe-thecreative-blog · 6 years

Text

A Selfless Love

It laid there. It was faced up on the bed, the screen easily visible. I placed it far away from me so that I could take my mind off the situation. I was sitting at the head of my bed attempting to read Paulo Coelho’s By the River Piedra I Sat Down and Wept. It was ironic for me to be even reading the book, but I couldn’t help it. It was such a beautiful story. A story of love and all that comes with it. It made me think of my own relationship. It was the complete opposite of Pilar and her soulmate. They were selfless, we were selfish – well, I was selfish.

The screen lit up, and I peeked over my book to see what or who it was. You’re supposed to be giving the silent treatment, I told myself. I am the poster child for lack of self-discipline. I placed the novel down and traveled to the foot of the bed. No new text. The notification was just an email blast from Steve Madden. 60% holiday sale. Was this a sign? Was the universe telling me to heal with heels? I exited out of the email, and went into my Messages app. He was my most recent conversation. I hated Apple sometimes for the way they let you preview the last text. I only wanted to see his name, Jason, with the lipstick stain emoji. Instead, what stood out was the last text he wrote:

Whatever, man. Do what you want.

That was sent at 10:14 a.m., yesterday. I looked at the time at the top of my screen, it was 2:26 in the afternoon. It was a beautiful Saturday afternoon at that. I looked outside my window to see the palm trees bathing in the Sunny South Florida. The tropical red hibiscus flowers danced along with the wind. Jason and I had plans to go scuba diving in Naples. That, for sure, wasn’t happening. I tossed my phone on the floor. Out of sight, out of mind, I told myself. I scooted back to my original location of the bed, picked up my novel, and attempted to get lost with Pilar and her childhood lover in the mountains of the Pyrenees. I was able to get through a few pages. I envisioned Jason and I in the place of Pilar and her lover. We were sitting at a café, having wine and cheese while laughing and being completely honest and open with each other.

I began to feel a knot in my throat, my eyes were beginning to flood with tears. I wanted this for our relationship, but how? I couldn’t even be open and honest with him. I envisioned a fairy tale love, just like any other girl would. I began to wonder what was exactly stopping me from that. Jason loved me, without a doubt. I never had to question his commitment to me. He was perfect. I am stubborn. Jason landed a job across the country in Los Angeles. We’ve talked about moving out of Atlanta. It felt good to escape the realties. Jason was a screenwriter and was hired to be in the writer’s room of an upcoming television series. I, on the other hand, was a teacher. He argued that I can teach anywhere, though this was true, the thought of leaving everything behind was terrifying. So when I hesitated on saying ‘yes’, he took it as a hard ‘no’. I choked. My brain couldn’t compute fast enough to give an answer on demand.

I couldn’t bring myself to pick up the phone to call or text him. Our argument fueled so much that we started to bring things up from the past. Who sacrificed more for who, who had to pay for who when the other didn’t have a job, so on and so forth. I hated it. I hated myself for purging old history because this was his passion. Ever since we were kids, living across the street for each other, he would pretend he’s shooting a movie. I was always his leading lady. I wanted this for him, I did, but I wanted this for him in Atlanta. I didn’t want to let go of home.

Often, I would find myself jealous of him. He was so courageous and only the courageous lived out their dreams. I settled to be a kindergarten teacher. I didn’t choose that for my life, but I just dealt with the hand I was given. As a young girl, I wanted to sing. I’ve always loved music. I played the piano up until college. Jason had even tried to tie in my musical talents with film. “You can be a music composer for films,” he would tell me. Always optimistic, that’s what I loved most about him. I could never match it. I was so afraid of failing that I just gave up. My parents always wanted me to have a job with some security. If I told them that I wanted to pursue music, they would hound me with a slew of questions. Do you have benefits? PTO? 401k? Life insurance? Vacation days? Pension?

I kept playing yesterday over in my head. From waking up to loving on each other, to me screaming, and him walking out. He’s never been out this long. Usually, he’s back home, we make up, and go back to the regular us. In By the River Piedra, her mate teaches her about saying goodbye to The Other. The Other is your negative, fearful self. The self that is blocking you from your true destiny. The Other will lead you to a life of mediocracy and loneliness. The Other is who I want to no longer be. I sat on the edge of my bed. My idle mind began to spiral. Is he going to break up with me? Is this it? Six years down the drain? Why can’t he just stay? Why should he? If it was the other way around, would I stay for love or follow my dreams? In all fairness, why should he be held back? Why should my fears hold him back? My fears on my own. Why did I project it on him? He didn’t deserve that. I didn’t deserve him.

I got off my bed and headed to the kitchen. Traces of him rested across the counter. His half-empty cup of orange juice laid there. The emotions began to pour over me. I pictured the morning before in my head. We were cooking breakfast together and talking about the future. He was talking about he will be a big screenwriter turned director, and I was speaking about going back to school for my Master’s in Education Leadership. The conversation then switched to me pursuing music, as a hobby, and maybe leading it to be a potential career. I dismissed it, of course. He went on and on about using the talents god gave us; my life was mirroring Pilar and her lover. From my parents, I had to listen to lectures about job security. From Jason, he wanted me to follow my dreams. My fears were so in control, that I became annoyed anytime Jason brought it up. One time, I even told him that he’s just lucky that he’s able to actually be in a career that he loves. He began to preach about it just having faith and listening to God. I realized that I was being selfish, not with him, but with myself. I was ungrateful and so blind to my blessings. I had a man who loves me so much that he wanted me to follow my dreams so I could be happy. Not just content, but filled with joy. I took that for granted.

I heard my phone ring from the bedroom. I dropped the sudsy cups I was washing in the sink and ran before it went to voicemail. It was an unknown number that I’ve seen before. Bill collectors, I rolled my eyes. After the disappointing phone call, I plopped down on the bed. My body felt weak. My brain was fried. I was depressed. I felt like I’ve lost everything, thanks to The Other. Why can’t I be like Pilar? Why am I comparing myself to a fictional character? I tried to picture myself in Los Angeles. I pictured myself in a beautiful high-rise condo. Jason at the breakfast table, looking out at the view of the city, writing, sipping his coffee—black. I was at my beautiful grand piano that sat in the dining area. We are working on Jason’s first feature film, his directorial debut. I was his composer. I felt myself smile. I could be happy in my love life and in my soul. But what if it doesn’t work out, The Other popped in my mind and depression came back. I sat up and headed towards my bathroom. Showering helped me think.

Another piece of Jason laid on the bathroom floor— his jeans. I cracked a smile. Normally, I would’ve been annoyed at the fact that he completely missed the hamper, but I loved him despite it. I picked up the pair of jeans and something fell out of his pocket and crashed down on the top of my foot. It hurt like hell. I instantly dropped the jeans to bend over and caress the pain from my foot. I looked over to see what had fell out of the pocket. And there it was. A square, blue, velvety box. The box. The box that every girl dreams of being presented with. My heart stopped beating. My lungs stopped inflating. The world was still. I’m not sure how I managed to direct my hand to the box, but I picked it up and opened it. The symbol of eternity stared at me. A beautiful princess-cut diamond smiled at me. It managed to twinkle brighter than our dull bathroom lights.

The man who I was madly in love with found me worthy of being his eternity. His partner in life. And here I am, letting fear rip us apart. I felt sick to my stomach. I didn’t deserve this. I didn’t deserve him. I worried about the things that haven’t happened. Jason always said faith and The Universe brought us together. It went over my head because my faith in God diminished due to past relationships.

I ran through the timeline of our relationship from day one. From meeting randomly at the train station because my lesson plans blew away, and him running across the street to pick them up. Even as a stranger, he made my day. He always knew the right things to say when I felt defeated, when I wasn’t sure of myself. He wanted me happy, not just with him, but happy within myself. He’s asked nothing from me, yet given me all of him. And here I was, rejecting the one thing he wanted, my support. I was so ashamed of myself. I felt my soul began to purge. I thought about how my actions are just a projection of my own issues; and how Jason has been there trying to help me through. Yet, he still was going to propose. That meant he had faith in me. So I should be able to have faith in us?

After five minutes of my purge, I picked myself up from the bathroom floor. I needed to tell him that I love him and that I was ready to follow. Not because of the ring, but because I loved him. I headed back to the room and I grabbed my phone; there was a text message from Jason:

I hate this. Let’s talk.

My heart felt as though it had woken up, I felt a smile on my face. I texted back:

When should I put in my two weeks?

Sohni Mahiwal Love by Ricky Ajnoha

11 notes · View notes