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woahajimes · 3 years

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Have you ever wondered how Damian would handle an instagram account?

For starters, Damian doesn’t even know he has an instagram account. It’s until Bruce answers a question at an interview that Damian finds out he has an instagram account. Bruce had created it for him, for god-knows-what reason. Yet Damian has to act like he has known all along, that he has an instagram account.

Once Bruce gets him settled into a username that very literally is just Damian’s name as the son of the billionaire, Damian does absolutely nothing. He doesn’t follow anyone, he doesn’t post anything. He doesn’t even have a profile picture. For all everyone knows, Bruce Wayne could have lied and that account is just some rando’s.

And months pass, Damian’s account is the literal same every single day, and trust me, people have checked. Damian couldn’t actually care less about his instagram account, the only reason he hasn’t deleted the app completely is because he rarely even uses his phone. He just carries it around in his pocket when he’s out as Damian Wayne.

It’s almost a year, and Damian is out with Dick, they’re getting lunch or something. Dick has ordered a burger, Damian stuck with a veggie option. And they’re about to start eating and Dick takes out his phone, snaps a picture.

“What are you doing?” Damian asks him.

Dick stares at Damian. “It’s for my instagram story.” And then he starts typing some caption or something.

And even though I, op, don’t have younger brothers, I do have a younger sister and I can tell you that little siblings copy like, everything you do. And I know we’re talking about Damian, but still. Damian took his phone out and he snapped a picture, Dick in the shot as well. He posted it in his story, he didn’t put a caption.

And then later that day, Damian remembered that he hadn’t saved that picture he took. So he opened the instagram app and he saw a little circle around his empty profile picture. He decided that he liked it. It went from purple to pink to orange to yellow to orange to pink and back to purple.

So this became a routine of his, after all, it would cost him next to nothing. To take a picture and post it on his story. It would keep the little ring around his profile picture. And he’d get replies to his stories and he’d get tagged in pictures and he’d get thousands of followers and he’d get tagged in comments and new requests and all those things that famous accounts get.

And it’s not like the pictures ever made sense. The first week they were things like the cover of his sketchbook, or this plant he found in the garden. Maybe it was the map on his wall, or alfred the cat and titus. He wouldn’t even take time with these pictures. He’d just remember every day about the little circle around his default profile picture and he’d grab his phone, and he’d take a picture of the nearest thing he could find. He never bothered to write a caption, nor put a song, anything.

And as time passes, the logic of the pictures becomes blurry. Why would the heir of the richest man in gotham post a picture of a crack on the pavement?

But sometimes, people doubt that Damian even takes these pictures. Because sometimes they’re pictures of gotham at night, when the sky is pitch black, starless. And this one time, Damian is out on patrol, the sun is rising, he still hasn’t gone home. The sky reminds Damian of the little ring around his profile picture. So Damian sets his phone to record automatically and so it records towards the sunset. And because Damian would place himself against the light, the figure would look pitch black, a plain shadow against the sunset. So Damian sets his phone and he takes his cape off, he has his grappling hook, but he’ll use it once he’s out of the camera shot. And then he gets the video going (his phone is leaning on a plant pot, there’s another building that ends nearly as the camera shot begins. So Damian swings from where he set his phone, to the other building, and he just.

Jumps.

He’s jumping headfirst and he’s whooping loudly, laughing almost. He’s done this so many times yet something is just nicer.

it was awesome.

And he posts the video, but silences it. Nobody can see Damian’s uniform, nor his mask. For all they know, Damian hired someone to jump, or maybe he even threw a mannequin or something.

That was the only video Damian posted on his story. The rest, every other day, theRE were just pictures.

We skip time a bit more and Damian was with Jon, when he still lived in hamilton. They were by the tree they were always at, and Damian was taking a picture of the bark of the tree. Because bark.

And Jon just stares at Damian. “What the h are you doing?”

Damian shrugs. "Just taking a picture.”

Jon snatches the phone from him. They’re close enough friends. He goes to the camera and holds the phone up straight, he sets it to the front camera.

“My mom does this all the time,” he says. “She calls them selfies.”

Jon snaps a picture. Then he checks it. He’s smiling, Damian is not. “You’re so lame! Did nobody ever teach you how to smile?”

Jon snaps a second picture, Damian’s still not smiling. Third picture, Damian’s expression moves a bit, but it's just him rolling his eyes.

“Come on, Damian! SMILE!” Jon takes another picture, he checks it. Damian’s smiling dramatically, he looks like Jon looks in family pictures he doesn’t want to take. He’s not smiling with his teeth, his eyes are practically closed, his nose is scrunched up. If anything, he looks more disgusted than happy. “Ugh, we’ll just try another day, i guess.”

This became a sort of routine. Every day they saw each other as civilians, Jon would take a selfie with Damian. Sometimes he smiled, if he was in the right mood. It didn’t really matter, Damian never posted those pictures on his story.

Now we take Damian’s fourteenth birthday. This, Damian decides, is a much better way to spend his birthday than the last one. Bruce isn’t there, but his brothers are, his best friends also are. Alfred and Jon, Dick, Tim, and Jason. They’re eating strawberry cake, with the ‘happy 14th!’ in pink frosting and everything. It is now his first option, thanks to Alfred.

Anyways, they’re slicing the cake, Damian just blew out the candles. Jon takes his phone out, the one he got when he turned eleven. He doesn’t have an instagram account, Lois wouldn’t let him, but Jon still takes a picture of everything.

Alfred asks Damian for his phone, so he can take a picture. Damian shakes his head, yet he takes out his phone. He’s at the head of the table, he puts his phone on the front camera. He hands it to Alfred.

“Jon likes to call them ‘selfies’,” Damian explained. He showed Alfred. “Here, you take them like this.”

Damian took his phone back from Alfred, he stretched his arm with the phone. He called out Tim’s name, and all of them looked up.

“Smile!” Damian snapped a picture, he grinned. He looked at the picture, he liked it. Alfred was grinning, like in that picture in which he’s with Bruce when he was little, and they’re both laughing at something.

Damian decided that this picture was too nice for it to go on his 24-hour ring. Besides, he had already put a picture of Jason helping prepare the frosting. He didn't need two stories in the same day.

So he drafts the post, and there’s the option to edit the image, but Damian skips it. It’s nice as it is.

He posts it, he doesn’t write a caption.

taglist: @hauntingsonofrobin @bikoncon @catxsnow @screennamealreadyused @thesporklecat @thesesickfics-justmakemesick andd i think i got it all idk

#OKAY ALSO DAMIAN LOOKS AT THE PICTURE AGAIN AND HE NOTICES HIS NOSE SCRUNCHES UP WHEN HE SMILES AND HE GOES huh #damian wayne #jon kent #dick grayson #nightwing #robin #alfred pennyworth #dick and damian #jason todd #damijon #ALTHO NO BUT LIKE HAHA #damian wayne headcanon #damian wayne x reader #or not but like it's an existing tag #lunatick #if you wanna be in my taglist send me an ask or comment lol i- you HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH GUTS IT TOOK TO WRITE A TAGLIST I HAVE LIKE FIVE

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chocolate1721 · 4 years

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Hello chocolatiers here is a new idea, and this is one of my altime favorites so far.

Ok so, Marinette and Jason are siblings who got separated. Jason is adopted by Bruce and Marinette is adopted by Tom and Sabine. Jason becomes Robin and dies. Marinette is informed of his death but isn’t able/allowed to attend the funeral. She never meets Bruce. Marinette is bullied by Chloe and then Lila and the class. She becomes ladybug and chat is useless.

Even though things in class are tough. Marinette makes a fabulous class trip. She has them set to go to New York (with tours of Stark Industries, and New York Times along with Broadway production tickets), then they are to go to Starling City (where they get to tour Queen industry, and their parks), next they go to Central City (they have some basic tours of some museums and stuff), finally they will end in Gotham (tour Wayne Enterprise and the gardens).

Marinette had a good time in New York, Lila lies all day every day, but she ignored it. They had a fligh to Starling City and Marinette had to use the restroom or something before they left, but when she got back to the gate the plane was gone, and so was her class. She had no clothes (those were on the plane) and she didn’t have a lot of money. She was having a hard time breathing when all of a sudden Tony f*cking Stark struts his way over to her and helps her breath again (couldn’t decide if she has a panic or anxiety attack).

Tony and Peter were coming back from Wakanda. Peter knoticed Marinette and points her out to Tony, making some joke of if she is a lost Stark or something. Tony looks at Marinette and immediately knows she is having an attack, he knows how that feels, so he immediately goes over to her and helps her through it. He finds out that Marinette got left behind by her class and this pisses Tony off. He then tells her he can/will help her out. All three of them then head to the Avenger’s Tower.

[[More]]

She meets the Avengers, and she is totally normal. No stuttering, spasming, tripping, or anything but treating them like they are normal. This intrigues the Avengers. They invite her to watch some of them train while Tony looks into getting her back to her class. While she watches them train she ends up handing Steve his shield (like it was a piece of paper), and Thor his hammer (like it was nothing), this shocks everyone.

Steve: Hey Thor, does this mean this kid is now the new ruler of Asgard?

Thor: . . . . . I must introduce her to the Allfather. Come child of earth.

Tony: *runs into the room, body slamming the door on his way in* DONT GO WITH HIM!!!!!!! IM ADOPTING HER!

Pepper: *appears from nowhere* no you’re not

Peter and Marinette become close friends. The hulk also meets Marinette. The team is worried, but Hulk just kinda picks her up and says “Baby” and tries to burp her. . . . . . . . Tony gets plenty of pictures of this. Marinette is a grumpy sunshine child, and she threatens Tony and Peter if they post any of those pictures.

Tony tells Marinette that he has a friend in town that lives in Starling City and he has agreed to take her with him when he returns home. Marinette will be getting picked up in a few hours, so Tony, Peter, Steve, Thor, and Pepper take Marinette out to get some clothes. This ends in chaos, mayhem, emotional trauma, and the Avengers learn how truly terrifying teenager girls are. Pepper is now wanting to adopt Marinette.

Later that evening Oliver Queen and Roy Harper show up at Avenger tower to pick Marinette up. Roy thinks she will be like all the other girls he knows, shallow and a gold digger or a super hero. He isn’t prepared for the absolute angel that is Marinette. He is love struck, and he becomes the gentleman that Oliver has tried to teach him to be. The only thing Oliver is thinking is “did Bruce get another one?”

Marinette and Roy hit it off very well (roynette is endgame people) they talk for hours. They exchange numbers. Oliver finds out that no, she isn’t adopted by Bruce <not yet anyway>. But she was born in Gotham, she had an older brother who died when she was younger. Oliver found out she is MDC and immediately wanted to commission a suit. She agreed and they were talking suit styles and colors until they arrived in front of her hotel in Starling City. They told her not to hesitate if she needed anything.

Her class didn’t even knotice she was missing. She got her room key and went to sleep. The next morning she was the first one up and downstairs. The breakfast pasteries were gross so she went to the kitchen and taught the staff how to make a good crossaint. She was putting a fresh batch out in the buffet area when her classmates arrived. Lila pauses when she saw her. How had Marinette gotten here? She made sure to destroy her plane ticket. Anyway Lila lies the entire trip as well. She convinces Max to hack into Marinette’s phone and change her alarms. On the day they head to Central City, Marinette’s alarm goes off 30 minutes after the bus leaves.

Marinette sighs and calls Roy. Roy is pissed that her teacher left her behind AGAIN. So he calls up Barry Alan (I watch the Flash tv show so those are the characters I will be using). Roy tells him about how the teacher is incompetent and left a student behind. Roy arrives to pick Marinette up, only to see two guys hitting on her. Roy stops that sh*t real quick. Then they head to Central City. They swing by Star Labs and Marinette meets Barry and his friends. They fall in love with Marinette. She is sweet and kind and adorable. Barry sees her as an innocent sister who must be protected. They take her to her class. He convinced the chief to let the class come visit the precinct. Lila is taking credit for everything, while Marinette gives out pasteries that she made at Star Labs. The officers love Marinette, especially Joe. He sees his daughter in Marinette. Some of the officers offered to teach the class some self defense, in case they were in trouble, and they refused to say how scared they were when Marinette took them down. It was way too easy for her to take them down. The tall kid with frosted tips didn’t do half as well as she did. Roy and Barry only seen that level of skill on hero’s or black belts. Lila started gushing about how she trained with some famous martial artist but had to stop due to her arthritis. The class got held hostage by Captain Cold. Marinette distracts him long enough for the hostages to escape, and the police and hero’s to arrive. She talked about everything from how he could make more money by hiring himself out as a ice machine to people in third world countries to his lack of fashion. By the time the hero’s arrived she was redesigning his entire wardrobe. He was just confused. The officers that arrived on the scene recognized Marinette and were horrified that her class left her in the hands of a criminal. Marinette just brushed it off as no big deal, she was used to it. This had them in near tears. The Flash helped her get back to the hotel. Barry was freaking pissed, so he took a couple pictures with Marinette, took her to get ice cream, and then took her back to her hotel; all before the class arrived.

When the class did arrive at the hotel they started accusing Marinette of working with Cold, but then they saw the Flash. Alya immediately started interviewing him. Only for him to snatch her phone out of her hand and delete the video. She wasnt happy about that, but Barry didn’t care. He stalked over to Bustier and started tearing her apart for abandoning a student. He then went to the police chief and let him know what happened.

Joe finds out what happened and knows that the class’s next stop is Gotham. He calls an old friend, Gordon, and tells him what’s going on and to keep an eye out for Marinette. Gordon agreed but doesn’t think that any teacher can be that stupid.

He is proven wrong when he goes to greet the class only to find that Bustier left Marinette behind. Gordon is dumbfounded, then furious when she said that Marinette can handle herself. Gordon then calls for a manhunt for this child. 15 minutes later he gets a call from Bruce that he has Marinette in his custody. He has permission from her parents to take care of her while she is in Gotham. Gordon starts compiling evidence of criminal neglect to send to the French Board of Education.

Roy was woken up to a call from Marinette. She got left behind again. He calls his friend Jason and tells him about what’s going on and if it’s ok if he stays with him until Marinette goes back to France. Jason,doesn’t know this is his sister, says yes. Roy and Marinette become an official couple on the way to Gotham. Bruce is trying to get everything ready for a non hero to come to their house, even if only for a few hours.

What no one expected was, when Alfred led them into the house. For Marinette and Jason to lock eyes, and for Mari to body check Jason. They also didn’t expect for Marinette and Jason to start crying, or for them to be siblings. Marinette slapped Jason a few times for making her think he died.

Roy pales when he realizes that Jason is her brother. Jason is furious at Roy for dating his sister. Marinette tried to keep her brother from killing her boyfriend, which is a struggle. She tells Bruce what happened with her class and he excused himself to go call her parents and inform them of what has happened. They give him permission to take care of their daughter while she is in Gotham. He also sets up future visits for Marinette to come to Gotham.

While Bruce is away, Damian arrives, sees a new dark haired minor, and immediately concludes his father has adopted another. He then proceeds to attack her, but Marinette takes a sword from a nearby knight and parries him. She barley keeps him at bay, when he realizes that she has some very basic knowledge of swordsmanship. He stops attacking her and starts teaching her. Thus an impenetrable sibling bond has formed. She cookes with Alfred. Dick teaches her how to trapieze. She gives Tim her illegal coffee recipe. Her and Jason talk for hours.

She also finds the Batcave. Only because she went to the library and tried getting a book, that happened to be the hidden enterance. She chews Bruce out for not dealing with the Joker in time to save her brother. She was just letting out her frustrations and everyone knew it. She met Louis and Clark, who she pulled to the side and told him to find a better disguise because it is obvious he is superman. She pats his shoulder and walks away. Louis slips Bruce $10.

Bruce invites the class to the Wayne Gala and provides clothes for them to wear. Marinette refuses the offer and makes her own dress. She also makes gifts for the Batfam.

Marinette is finally able to see Lila’s lies fall apart, at the Gala, and she refuses to forgive the class. What they did is not something that she can get over that easily. All of the abuse, the lack of loyalty, the manipulation, and demand for her time, energy, and supplies to give them what they want. She. Is. Done. She burned those bridges.

When the class is heading back to Paris their notifications go off. They are getting tagged in pictures of Marinette with the Avengers, Oliver Queen and Roy Harper, of the Central City Police force, with the Flash, with the Wayne’s, and Louis and Clark. They were shocked. How could Marinette get the opportunity to meet all of these people when she was with them the entire time. That’s when they realized, she wasn’t with them. The only time they remember seeing her is when they were on tours or she suddenly appeared in the places they were heading to. She was never with them when they left.

#maribat prompt #big bro jasonette #roynette #roynette is endgame #mlb x dc au #mlb x avengers au #mlb x avengers #class salt #lila salt #alya salt #adrien salt #bustier salt #caline bustier salt #the police have marinette’s back #she is the only one who is capable to take over the world

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redhoodssweetheart · 3 years

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Blackbird | One

Pairing: Dick Grayson x Fem!Reader slowly turning into a Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2K

Requested: No

Warnings: Swearing, angst, some fluff, talk of having a dark soul and not being a good person, death mention, shot with a gun

Description: You were once a member of the BatFam known by the moniker Blackbird. You and Dick Grayson were close, but when a tragic accident left many members of the team thinking you were dead you went into hiding and tried to build a new life for yourself. But now Dick is back and he’s about to find out your secret.

A/N: You may recognize this from @writersfortheworld which I was once apart of. I am moving my Marvel/DC stories from there to here. Enjoy.

The rooftop was dark, little light from the street lamps below casting light this far up. She preferred it this way, less time for her prey to catch wind of her if she were up here with no light then trying to avoid the yellow tinted pools the street lamps caused.

Below her was a man stalking an instant pedestrian. She wondered why someone was out this late at night and alone no less. The city wasn’t known for being safe in the nighttime. She also wondered why the person hadn’t called a cab or hired one of those drivers from one of the apps they had nowadays. That certainly would have been safer than this.

If she was going to act it had to be now before the mugger got any closer to the other person. Swinging over the side of the building she dropped down in front of the man who came skidding to a stop. “What the fu--”

“Ah, ah,” she chastised. “There’s no need for such harsh language.”

The mugger was clearly frustrated that some masked vigilante had just interrupted his heist for the evening. He lunged for her, but in a swift move she kicked him in the stomach and set him sprawling backward until he hit the pavement. He was stunned for a moment before sitting up, “You’re gonna pay for that.”

She merely inspected her nails, “Am I though?”

The person who the mugger had attempted to rob had fled the scene the moment the masked woman had jumped down from the building behind them. Their phone in their hand as they dialed nine one one to alert the police of what was going down on the corner of sixth street.

The mugger clamored to his feet and tried to come at her again, his fist aimed straight at her face, but she was quicker and ducked out of the way. She laughed, which only spurred the man on. “Come here!” He yelled as he lunged for her again.

She jumped into the air and used his back as a springboard. “Is that really the best you can do?” She taunted, the distant sound of sirens piercing through the air. “Well it looks like our playtime is over, now be a good boy and wait here until the cops show up and arrest you.” She took his head and rammed it into one of the light poles knocking the man out.

Handcuffing him to that same light pole she took off into the night once more. She was trying her hardest to go unnoticed by the law and others around her. There was a reason she didn’t want to be discovered and had managed to protect her identity pretty well except for a few fuzzy photos bystanders had managed to snap of her.

The night was relatively slow after that as she picked her way across the city back to her apartment. She was tired and just wanted to get a few hours of sleep before she had to be at her job the next morning. Maybe tonight she could finally shut her brain down long enough to get some actual rest for once.

Doubtful, but a girl could wish.

She carefully opened her window and discovered that everything was how she had left it. Pulling the mask from her face she headed for her room to turn on the shower. Hunting down bad guys gave her a thrill like nothing ever would, but she always felt icky after a night out on the town.

Steam poured out of the bathroom letting her know that the shower was nice and warm. The hot water relaxed her muscles and she hummed in content. This was her favorite part of the evening. These few minutes to herself where she could just relax and not have to worry about anything else.

When the water ran cold she grabbed her towel and stepped out of the bathroom to finish her nightly routine. Tomorrow was going to be a good day, she could feel it in her bones.

Dick Grayson walked into the Batcave with a folder in his hands. There was a new vigilante that had popped up in Preston City, no one knew much about this new player and the only photos there were, were all blurry and dark. He wished that he could find out more about this new vigilante but it seemed he would have to go to Preston City himself and see this person up close.

“Bruce, I’m going to be out of town for a few days,” he said without looking up from his file.

“What for?” Bruce had noticed Dick come in with the file in his hands and wondered what the former Robin had discovered.

Dick finally closed the file he was holding and met Bruce’s gaze, “There’s a new vigilante that’s sprung up in Preston City. I was gonna head there tomorrow and see if I could recruit them. Maybe offer them training and get them on our side.”

“No,” Bruce shook his head. “The League and I have discussed it and we’d rather not bring in the vigilante.”

Dick was confused, “Why the hell not? We’re always looking for new members to bring in and they could be useful to have around.”

“Don’t worry about it, Dick. Just leave this one alone for now.” He turned his attention back to his computer and hoped that Dick would drop the subject.

Dick stood there for a moment just staring at Bruce’s back wondering what the hell was going on with him. Normally the League looked for new recruits, it was better if the vigilantes that sprung up were watched by the leaders than running around causing problems on their own.

When Dick saw that this was no longer up for debate with Bruce, he huffed and left the Batcave. He still had plans to go to Preston City no matter what Bruce or the League had to say about it. His gut was telling him something different and he was going to listen.

Bruce waited until he heard the doors to the elevator slide shut before he picked up his phone and dialed a number. “It’s me,” he said. “Dick’s going to be heading your way tomorrow. Be careful.” With that, he hung up and set his phone down. Steepling his fingers together he leaned back in his chair and stared blanking at the computer before him.

“How do you know Master Dick is going to be heading her way, sir?” Alfred asked as he emerged from the shadows.

Sometimes Bruce swore that Alfred had a superpower of knowing when something was bothering one of the people living under the same roof as him. “Dick is impulsive and if he thinks something is for the better good of the world then he’s going to do it. Tomorrow he’ll be heading for Preston City and I’m not sure he’s going to like what he finds there.”

She set her phone back on the nightstand and stared at the wall in front of her. This was the exact reason she had been so careful. She didn’t need him coming into her city and messing up the life she had built for herself.

“What am I going to do?” She whispered into the darkness of her room.

She could take a few days off. With Nightwing in the area he could handle any small crimes he came upon. The city would be safe until he grew tired of waiting for her to come out. But she knew she wasn’t going to do that.

Growling she stood and headed into her living room to try and find something to watch.

Another sleepless night on the books.

“You ready Blackbird?” Dick looked over at her, his usual carefree grin on his face.

She rolled her eyes and pulled her gloves a bit tighter, “I’m not the one that needs to be focused right now. Keep your eyes on the prize, Nightwing.” He chuckled and knew that she wanted to use his last name.

“Focus you two,” came Bruce’s voice over the earpiece. “We can’t let Luthor or any of the others escape. Remember what’s at stake here.”

Luthor had banded together with the likes of Poison Ivy, Deathstroke, Black Atom, Deadshot, and Killer Frost to try and steal a nuclear reactor. The League had called in all the help that they could get to stop them before it was too late.

Dick’s eyes scanned the road and tapped her on the shoulder, “There.”

She followed to where he was pointing and saw the flash of headlights in the distance. “They’re here,” she warned.

Things hadn’t gone as planned though. There were more villains there than the intel had said and the heroes were ambushed. She and Dick were on the roof fighting off Harley Quinn and Joker when the Joker had pulled a gun and shot her.

“Blackbird!” Dick had shouted as she went falling over the side of the building, pain blooming in her chest.

That had been the last thing she could remember before the world went dark around her and she was lost in a sea of pain.

#Dick Grayson x Reader #Dick Grayson x Fem!Reader #Jason Todd x Reader #Jason Todd x Fem!Reader #Jason Todd #Dick Grayson #Jason Todd fanfic #Jason Todd fanfiction #Jason Todd angst #Jason Todd fluff #Dick Grayson fanfic #Dick Grayson fanfiction #Dick Grayson angst #Dick Grayson fluff #Nightwing #Red Hood #Red Hood x Reader #Nightwing x Reader

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pl-panda · 4 years

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The vines that bind us - Chapter 6

Chapter 1 || Previous || NEXT

Elevator took her all the way to the highest floor. When she exited, the floor was back to perfect condition and several more plants were awaiting her. She promised them silently to check on them soon and went to the main office. She knocked several times on the doors, but nobody answered. Hesitantly, she pushed the doors open, but no one was in the office. After double-checking with security, it turned out that Tim Drake did not show to work. She sighed. Looks like more work for her… Just like Nathalie said.

“Didn’t you cause enough drama…” Lila never got a chance to end that sentence, because Mari delivered a straight one strong enough to send her flying several feet back before she came crashing down. Blood pouring from her nose.

The girl was about to launch herself at the liar and pound her into the ground when two strong arms grabbed her. She noticed the characteristic spikes on the sides of black gloves and stated to trash around. “Let me go you overgrown furry!” She screamed. “I will mix her face with the concrete until it’s nice and even!”

She tried to wiggle herself out of his grip. Most of the class surrounded Lila and were trying to help her. It only served to irate Mari more. She kicked her leg back, hitting Batman’s shin. It was finally enough to let her go. The girl fell down... right into the embrace of Chloe and Adrien who managed to get to her on time. The two blondes hugged her tightly.

“There. It’s alright Goldie. You got her good. Rest.” The girl cooed and pressed her best friend to her chest, muffling the sobbing. Adrien was just silently there and hugged them both. When Batman tried to approach again, the boy sent him an angry glare. The warning was clear and the vigilante didn’t really need anything from the girl right now.

After a bit, Mari fell asleep in their embrace. The stress finally caught up to her and she couldn’t hold exhaustion at bay any longer. Chloe easily picked her up and started to walk toward a taxi that was conveniently parked nearby, waiting for them.

“What!?” Angry Alya looked from Lila who was now being cared for by a pair of paramedics. She turned to Commissioner Gordon who was discussing something with Batman. “You!”

The policeman looked at her curiously. Alya continued her shouting. “You’re letting her go just like that? She just assaulted Lila! She might’ve ruined her modeling career! Arrest her!”

“Miss.” Gordon shook his head. “These are some of the braves men and women in Gotham, but I doubt any of them would dare to try and arrest her right now. They don’t get paid enough.”

“What?!” Several kids started to protest, but Gordon just ignored them and directed Harvey to start taking statements. He wasn’t paid enough to deal with these brats.

--------

Bruce sighed as he exited the Batmobile. Almost immediately, he was swarmed by the rest of his family. Jason and Dick practically carried him, still in the suit, to the movie room.

“Now, Ladies and Gents, we have some of the greatest shows for you. We call it… The Demon Trashing!”

What followed was a clip taken from monitoring in the anteroom of the CEO office in Wayne Tower. He watched as Damian, dressed in civilian clothing, and carrying a simple ninjato on his back entered the room. He walked around for a moment before knocking on the main office doors, but whatever answer he got seemed to have irritated him given the scowl that formed on his face. He walked over to the PA’s desk that stood there, but no one was here. After a short moment, one could see the elevator doors open again and a small girl in a smart outfit walked in. Damian dashed to the shadows before she had a chance to notice him.

Bruce resisted the urge to facepalm. He could already see where this was going.

When the girl started to walk to the desk, his son suddenly reappeared with the sword drawn. He pressed the blade to her neck. From the angle, it was impossible to see either of them expressions. The man did not expect his son to kill a civilian for trespassing, but the amount of glee on Jason’s and Dick’s faces was suggesting that his headache hadn’t really started.

The girl suddenly grabbed the blade and pushed it away. Damian, probably acting on instinct, tried to cut her, but she just walked out of the way and disarmed his son before knocking him out. There was a short skip to when Jason and Dick entered the room. The small girl was clearly very much irritated with them from the start and when she reached her limits, she used a pencil as a projectile to open the elevator doors.

A small smirk made its way to Bruce’s face when he saw her storm past his three sons, carrying the ninjato through a tissue. The video ended with Damian waking up.

“And that’s how Drake’s new PA trashed a certain Demon Spawn. I swear, she could probably give Luthor’s bodyguard a run for her money when it comes to being a badass” Jason commented on the silent video in his typical fashion.

“Tt. She stole my sword.” Damian huffed.

“You mean the sword she later used to stab Riddler’s man before disarming him?”

“I still consider the best part of today when she called B. an overgrown furry,” Dick said trying to hold back on laugher.

“Wait. I have a new personal assistant?” Tim asked half-awake.

“Yeah. She was supposed to be an intern, but apparently, Sarah hired her on the spot and quit.”

“Oh… Cool.” Tim said and took a swing from his gargantuan cup.

“Did you manage to pull the video of her taking down Riddler?” Bruce asked.

“The cameras malfunctioned before she even entered.”

“It was me,” Tim confessed. “I was still in my office when the alarm sounded. I keep a separate copy of my suit in a hidden compartment. To save time I dressed there, but I had to disable the CCTV…”

“Yeah yeah. Whatever.” Jason shut him up. “I also got the part when Damian’s eyes roll back as my new screensaver.”

“Tt. You’re lucky I don’t have my sword.”

“Don’t think you’re getting it back any time soon,” Bruce said in a stern tone and sighed. “What exactly do we know about her?”

“She is from Gotham, but she lives in Paris for some years. She said she was practicing martial arts since she was five.” Dick started

“She is also one bada…”

Jason was interrupted by Alfred, who entered the room with a plate full of cookies and tea. “A young woman just called. She asked me to forward a message to young master Damian.”

“Tt. What is it?”

“I quote. ‘Good luck getting your sword back now. Police took it as evidence. Suck it, Wayne.’ I believe the woman was young miss Chloe Bourgeoise.”

Dick, Jason, and Tim were literally rolling on the floor laughing. Bruce just facepalmed.

“No, you can’t break into the evidence room. You might jeopardize the whole investigation if you taint the evidence.” Bruce said in an exasperated tone.

----------

It was late after midnight (or even early morning, depends on your definition) when the vigilantes returned from the patrol, only to meet Tim and Barbara working on something on Batcomputer in tandem. Whatever it was, they were completely devoted to it since neither realized they had company until Bruce made a coughing sound.

“Not now.”

“What exactly are you doing?” The father inside Bruce resisted the urge to force-feed Tim some sleeping meds.

“We’re doing the background check,” Barbara said while typing frantically.

“On my new personal assistant.” The boy supplied.

“oh?” Bruce raised an eyebrow.

“Like… from what we found she is either the worst bitch on the block or strongest badass around.”

“Langauge master Tim.” Alfred scolded him.

“Sorry. But like seriously! There are so many contradictions.”

“Check this out.” She pulled out a scan of a letter. It was largely creased, but still perfectly readable. “Her adopted parents one day disappeared, leaving her everything they owed sans some of their clothes. It was like they packed and left.”

“You suspect a foul play?”

“I’m not sure. The investigation was a joke and so was the follow-up proceeding. The interesting part is the custody battle that followed.”

“Jagged freaking Stone and Parisian Mayor.” Tim interrupted Babs. “It ended with a compromise that Jagged was lawfully named her uncle and Mayor became her guardian. She was the one who suggested it.”

“How can one be lawfully named someone’s uncle?”

“Apparently one can in France. Or they just made some concessions to a celebrity. Seen weirder things.” He shrugged. “She was also his designer for years now. You remember that mysterious MDC?”

“The one you used to fawn over?” Bruce asked.

“She is brilliant so sue me.” The boy huffed. “Also, it stands for Marigold Désign et Création. She runs an internet boutique where she takes commissions from both commoners and celebrities.”

“What does it have to do with anything?”

“I’m getting to that. Gee.”

“Maybe I will get there?” Babs tried to take over. “She’s been working part-time as a babysitter to get funds to buy materials for new clothes and received nothing but praise. She also became a class representative. A successful one at that. She also holds the national championship in U-17 Mechastrike.”

“How is that important exactly?”

“You wanted to know everything about her B., so we are giving you everything.” Tim sassed

“Just… get to the important parts.” He shook his head. What did he do to deserve this?

“Fine. Her school records are a mess. Skipping that they wouldn’t hold to any official inspection, they straight-up contradict each other.” Tim waved his hand in some undefined gesture. “On one hand, she receives nothing but praise from the teachers, but at the same time, there are multiple bullying reports and even several assaults in here. Most of them were met with harsh punishments.” Tim opened a separate file. “Too harsh according to the school charter.”

“It didn’t help that the letter from her parents also mentioned these kinds of things.” Babs chimed in, trying to regain control of the tale. Bruce just gave an exasperated sigh. He just gave up and allowed them to solve it, mentally already cataloging the information.

“Except! There were statements from several people that contradicted this. Especially Chloe Bourgeois. She said, ‘Puh-lease! Mari is the kindest doormat in the world. I was mean to her for years and she still welcomed me back with open arms.’ Given her track record, I’m inclined to believe it.”

“There was also this Drama, capital ‘D’, with MDC stealing designs. Several tabloids caught the wind of it and it even led to the police investigation. Only after Jagged Stone intervened, the thing quickly shut up.”

“Now onto the juicy parts!” Babs smiled.

“And that was what? An introduction?”

“Yup. She has a certified black belt in two different martial arts, is a master gymnast, has an IQ of over 130 and owns two separate businesses in Paris.” She quickly read. “As we mentioned, she is the honorary lawful niece of Jagged Stone, but also designed for Clara Nightingale, Nadia Chamack, worked with Gabriel Agreste, was offered an internship from Audrey Bourgeois before she became her ward. She was seen hanging out with Kagami Tsurugi, world-renowned fencer, and Luka Couffaine, the rising star under Jagged Stone’s tutelage.”

“That was fast.” Tim summarised.

“Yeah. Also, she was adopted some nine years ago. She originally comes from Gotham.”

“Do we know her biological parents?” Bruce asked, getting serious.

“That’s where it gets juicy. When I tried to pull out her adoption files, the computer shut down to avoid detection. There is some serious encryption on it. Probably due to who her father is. We got some of it. She described her mother as ‘wearing an outfit that showed more skin than her beachwear’, so we suspect she was a prostitute.”

“Hm… It’s not unheard of. You say she was with her mother until she was eight?”

“Between seven and nine the file said.”

“Hm… Do you think she is a threat?”

“No. But I have a different question. Why didn’t the league investigate Paris’ supervillain?”

“We were made aware of him only recently, after what our satellites mistook for Poison Ivy attack,” Batman said in an irritated tone. The fact that there was a supervillain running around for close to four years completely undetected grated on his nerves. “Diana Prince has been investigating for some time now. She has it under control.”

“The only problem I see is that she is only sixteen,” Barbara pointed.

“I mean I’m barely seventeen and I ran this company for two years now. And don’t act high and mighty. You started playing Batgirl at fifteen.”

“Played?!” She screamed.

“You wore a hoodie and carnival mask at first.”

This quickly developed into an insults contest until Bruce finally had enough. He just shook his head and left. Alfred silently followed him, carrying a plate of sandwiches.

-----

The next morning, Mari woke up in her bed, with Chloe and her curled together in a mess of limbs and clothes. Of course, she panicked and jumped up, waking the blonde.

“Honestly, Goldie, five more minutes. I need my beauty sleep!” She murmured.

“Um… Why are we in one bed?”

“Because you fell asleep hugging me yesterday and refused to let go at any point. I swear I wanted to get a crowbar. Ridiculous!”

“Sorry…” Mari gave her a sheepish smile.

“None of that! You ruined Lila’s face in one punch. Adrien texted me that in the end she lost seven teeth and will require plastic surgery for her nose not to look like a mashed potato.”

“No…!” Her eyes widened.

“Yup.” Chloe grinned, popping the ‘p’.

“That’s awful! I can already imagine how much the class will hate me now! And the employees that saw this! There were cameras there!”

“Some people actually applauded you. It could be also because you called Batman an overgrown Furry though…” Chloe’s voice wandered off. Mari collapsed onto the bed, head buried in the pillows.

“Kill me…”

“Can I kill you with hugs?”

“Fine…”

When the panicking bluenette finally calmed down, Chloe got her to sit down and showed her the headlines.

Brave WE employee saves dozens of lives!

A hero without a suit!

Civilian stopped Riddler!

Personal Assistant takes down a dangerous criminal!

They were all overly positive and showed much support. Only one tried to vilify her based on Lila’s comment and her being punched, but it quoted Ladyblog as a reliable source, so it was dismissed. The majority of the comments were also positive. The ‘overgrown Furry’ was already trending too.

Only one of the articles contained the list of names of people killed in the attack.

Ted Black - a security guard, put himself between the bullet and another employee Sigfried Osborne - a security guard, died when he tried to stop them from entering Molly Bishop - a PR specialist, called the police when she thought the guards were busy Heidi Dickson - a security guard, killed in crossfire Craig Lloyd - an HR employee, wrestled the gun from one of the henchmen before he was shot in the back. Ethel Arson - A lawyer, killed in crossfire Christian Thorn - a security guard, shot two of the riddler’s henchmen in defense of a group of hostages.

Their room had several live plants on the rail. Mari walked to them and allowed her powers to flow. Slowly, the flowers bloomed. She picked seven beautiful flowers and put them on the table.

“Mari… I’m sure they will understand if you don’t come to work today…” Chloe placed a hand on her best friend’s shoulder.

“No… No. I won’t be scared into hiding by Riddler of all people.” She said with determination and some coldness in her voice. She stood up and walked to her suitcase. From there, she gathered a different outfit. Now she would wear a red shirt, a black blazer with the Ladybug logo on her right breast, a black pencil skirt, and black leather ballet shoes (she still hated heels). But the greatest change was her hair and eyes. She let go of her twin pigtails and allowed her wavy hair to run free. It was no longer black, instead turning dark blue with purple highlights. Her eyes also changed. Her bluebell eyes also changed. The iridescent green she used to suppress was now mixed with the normal eye color, giving an entrancing effect that was hard to stop looking at.

“It’s time to rock this place.” She smiled at her best friend.

------- (Play ‘Confident’ by Demi Lovato) --------

Marigold and Chloe entered the Wayne Enterprises in full stride. Flashing her pass, she got them through control without the queue or checking, much to the shock of the class (who still had no idea Mari was now technically their boss). Adrien showed the girls thumbs up. Lila was seething, but neither Chloe nor Marigold paid her any mind and guards didn’t let her follow them and straight-up kicked her to the back of the queue.

Mari gave a nod to the receptionist, but they didn’t slow down. Elevator was about to close, but one of the employees held it for her. Once they entered, she quickly checked her tablet and the to-do list she had for that day. First stop: PR. Chloe was going to HR to receive a new mentor after… the previous day.

When she entered the Public Relations department, Mari didn’t stop to chat with the employee that looked at her in awe. Her goal was the department’s head office and that’s where she would go. Gently knocking on the doors before entering, she pushed the doors. While she was smiling kindly, her whole posture screamed professional.

“Hello. Mr. Drake will need the Friday press conference plan adjusted in response to what happened yesterday. There needs to be a mention of the event, as we won’t want to sound too detached. The press would tear us apart. Some gesture to show the public that we care…”

“Maybe a memory board in the lobby? And perhaps schedule Mr. Drake to visit each of the families somewhere next week?”

“I think it will be okay…” For a short moment, Mari allowed her confidence to drop, but she quickly gathered herself and made a note in her calendar.

“If that’s all…”

“I will also need a press statement no later than by lunch.” She said quickly. “Make it a priority and forward it to me to read before you post it.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” The man smiled. Mari was about to leave when he spoke again. “And thank you for yesterday. Many people owe you their lives.”

She stopped in her tracks, unable to say a word. Finally, she regained her composure. “Thank you. I… I’m coping.”

As she left the office toward the elevator, Lila and Alya, who were interning in that department, tried to speak with her, but she didn’t even spare them a glance. Alya tried to grab her, but she was stopped by one of the older employees. As the elevator doors closed, Mari could see the girls receive a serious scolding. A grin made its way onto her face. Lila and Alya would have a really hard life for the next two months. Especially if she had anything to say about it.

Her next stop was the security office. She entered it with a neutral expression, but it lasted only maybe five steps from the elevator. She didn’t tear up. She was a Gothamite inside. Right as one walked out of the elevator, there was a small bar, behind which a board was filled with pictures. Some looked really old, black and white or even sepia, while some others were high-quality and new. Roughly half of them were the clean pictures one would attach to a resume. The other half were profile pictures from social media. Or a photo that was taken in the forest. One was even a detailed drawing of a person. There were maybe fifty of them in total.

“It’s a reminder. Guards who lost their lives since the founding of WE” An older man said. “Silas Wayne started the tradition after he served in the Great War. You’re here for something miss?”

“Oh… Yes. The security on Friday press conference. We must increase it by about fifty percent. And make sure that only those with invites can enter.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He saluted her.

“Um…” Mari suddenly felt a bit uncomfortable.

“Don’t worry. It wasn’t your fault.” He said in a comforting voice.

“Thank you, sir.” She allowed a weak smile to enter her face before she left. Only two more stops.

The elevator next took her to the Legal Department. She had many things that needed to be done here. Chloe met her as soon as she exited the elevator. Mari managed to regain her professional posture and once more emanated the aura of confidence. She wasn’t sure how long she could keep it up, but she was determined to show that she was okay.

“I already forwarded your requests. At first, Madame McKinsley was reluctant, but apparently, our entrance is already the top corporate gossip. Good job Mari-bear.”

“Good. Thanks, Chlo. Now get back to work before someone sees me get friendly with an intern. I have a plan.” Before they separated, Marigold let a smile ghost her face. “One more thing. You’re free to unleash the foxes of war.”

Chloe lit up at that. Her whole demeanor changed to almost beaming light. She immediately started planning. Mari left her to the devious scheming and instead went to McKinsley office. The head of the Legal Department was a middle-aged woman with short, slightly graying brown hair and no-nonsense composure.

“Miss Bourgeoise informed me of your visit. I already had several documents prepared, but I will need clarification on several things.” She offered the young PA a chair, but Mari refused with a shake of her head. She opened her tablet and started to go through the list.

“First of all, the video that caused the attack was leaked by an intern. What actions exactly can be undertaken in response?”

“There are several options. We could terminate their contract entirely, but as it’s their first offense, it could’ve been seen as too harsh. It would also require to terminate all internships.” The woman was clearly unamused by the situation. Mari just raised her eyebrow and gave her a quizzing look.

“I’m not sure who in their right mind wrote their contracts, but when I track them down they are gonna get their ass demoted to toilet cleaner. It’s one big mess.”

“Don’t I know it…” Mari deadpanned. “So, other options?”

“We can move them between departments, so having them demoted to Toilet cleaners could also work, but it’s not exactly a legal punishment. The fact that it was Riddler really threw a wrench in any legal proceeding as he is clinically insane and the video was not directly calling him out and only speaking about him. I could give you the legal mumbo-jumbo, but the gist is that they are somewhat protected.”

“What about revoking their privileges?”

“Take that to HR.”

“Will do. Now, about the next matter.”

“It was much easier. She can’t do anything to you, not even forward the bill. You were in shock and there are several recordings showing her taunting you. If she pushes it, she will lose. You’re a public hero right now. Good job by the way.”

“I was only doing what had to be done.” Mari brushed it, doing her best to keep a professional face.

“Sure…” It was clear that McKinsley did not believe her.

“Now about the last thing?”

“Ah. The slander. I already directed it to our French and Italian departments, but it’s slow-going. That witch made it an international case. It will definitely bite her, but we have to be patient.”

“Brilliant. Thank you for your time.” Mari left the room with a grin on her face. Now onto the HR.

As she strode through the floor, people turned their heads to look at her. In the killing outfit, she looked older than she was and the aura of confidence and professionalism made her seem like a powerful woman. They had no idea just how powerful she was, but the way she carried herself was enough to make them shake in their shoes.

----

When the doors of the elevator opened, Juleka and Rose were waiting for her. Both looked furious. Before either got a chance to say anything though, Marigold silenced them with a murderous glare that took away their voice. She strode past them looking fabulous. Any other employee removed themselves from her path to avoid her ire. The rumors were already circulating and the fact that she took down Riddler before Batman even arrived did wonder to her image.

“Hello. I had an appointment.” She said when she entered the head of the department office.

“Yes. Miss Dupain-Cheng. I was told you forwarded a list of topics, but an intern lost it.”

“Was this intern from my class?” She asked in a cold voice.

“Um… Yes actually.” The woman said after checking a small post-it.

“Then it was probably sabotage.” Mari spat the words. “I asked to have a list of possible punishments in regards to the newest intern group prepared. Two of them were responsible for the leak. Sadly, as one of them is the class representative, she is quite popular.”

“Ah. Well…”

“First of all, both Alya Cesaire and Lila Rossi are to have all possible privileges revoked for breaking the rules. They leaked or were involved in the leak of video. Neither of them is to be handed anything more important than refilling a stapler or bringing someone coffee, to ensure they are no further threat to this company. They will also receive an official warning and an entry to their acts. They are also restricted to the lower floors. If possible, I want their access to electronic devices restricted. Maybe assign them a pager each so it doesn’t negatively impact their work.”

“Hm… I will see what can be done, Ma’am.” The woman replied, already going through her notes.

“Good. Onto the next business, while it pains me to do it so fast, we need to hire more security as soon as possible. But make sure to triple check their backgrounds.”

“Understandable.”

“And the last thing. Why was Damian Wayne allowed to bring a ninjato into the building?”

“There is actually no restriction on bringing swords ma’am. We’re trying to fix it, but we’ve been blocked at every turn even when Mr. Wayne was the CEO.”

“And whose permission is needed?” Mari allowed a small grin.

“Yours would do. Sarah was always too stuck up to even leave her desk unless forced so she didn’t care that much.”

“Consider my permission granted. Forward the paperwork to me.”

“And if Mr. Drake disagrees?”

“He can try.” She said coldly, remembering how close she came to being cut in half.

“Oh…”

“Last thing. When is the top floor scheduled for repairs?”

“It should be done already. It was made to withstand an assault from a much larger force, so we only had to replace the furniture. Following the instructions that were left, we repotted the plants into bigger and more decorative pots. As per your request, we added some more plants.”

“Thank you. Plants always calm me down.”

“I prefer cat pictures.” She pointed at the wall where a cheesy calendar with a cat giving her thumbs-up was hanged. It took all of Marigold’s willpower not to burst into laugher at the image of Chat Noir posing for such a calendar.

“Good. Thank you.” With that, she left. This time, Rose and Juleka did not try anything. They were too terrified of her.

----

#maribat au #maribat #marinette dupain cheng #redeemed!chloe #Good!Adrien Agreste #Batman #miraculous lb #miraculous ladybug #Miracuolous #DC #mlb x dc #Mother!Ivy

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fleur-de-violette · 3 years

Text

A good butler

A3O

A good butler is often polyvalent, as the job includes many various tasks. A good butler must know how to take care of everyday household tasks, as well as when help is needed to fulfill them. A good butler must know how and where to hire said help and have excellent leadership capability in order to direct the other aids, even in stressful situations. A good butler must have great organizational skills and make sure everything from the house master schedule to the planning of a social event is running smoothly. On top of that, a good butler is sociable and outgoing. A good butler is able to greet guests with a smile and perfect etiquette.

A good butler is also, apparently, supposed to know what to do about crying children.

Or: several times Alfred dried Bruce’s tears over the years.

Whumptober 2020 day 11: crying Note:In case you didn’t guess, this one gets angsty! This is less fluff and angst than fluff and angst and then some fluff and then some more angst. Warning for major character death, and discussion about mourning. Hope you’ll enjoy the story!

It’s the beginning of his service, and Alfred wonders if he can be a good butler.

A good butler is also, apparently, supposed to know what to do about crying babies. Because the childminder isn’t there at the moment and mistress Martha Wayne asked him to watch Bruce for just five minutes. Of course, that is when one of the branches outside chooses to move, tapping lightly on the window and frightening the child. The infant, really.

So, Bruce is crying. And Alfred should do something about it. He tries to smile, to reassure him, but nothing seems to work. Finally, he decides to resort to drastic methods.

He puts his hands in front of his face and prepares for what he had planned to do. Finally, he removes his hands, making a funny noise and twisting his expression.

Bruce blinks. Lets out a surprised coo. Alfred does it again, and the kid smiles. He does it one more time.

Bruce is laughing when Martha comes back.

Alfred doesn’t know if he’s a good butler. But he knows he’s not alone.

It’s a few years later, on a sunny day, and Alfred is alone inside the manor as everyone else is outside. He’s interrupted in his preparation of the afternoon tea by a noise, followed by a harsh cry from the grounds. Leaving the kitchen, he hurries up to where, sure enough, his youngest master has gotten himself into yet more trouble.

Sure enough, Bruce is on the ground next to the swing that had recently been installed for him. He looks up when he sees Alfred, wailing loudly. The butler crouches down next to him.

“Could you tell me where you’re hurt?” he asks, and Bruce shows him a scratched hand. The boy then stands up to show his left knee where a bruise is already forming.

Alfred sighs in relief; looks like his young master is more shaken than hurt by the incident.

“Come on,” he says. “Let’s get that cleaned up.”

He extends his hand and Bruce takes it without hesitation. It’s weird, the absolute trust Bruce has in him. Not weird about Bruce, because he’s a child, but weird because Alfred has worked around liars and traitors for so long, he doesn’t really remember what trust feels like. He’s not sure of his place in Wayne Manor just yet.

He puts a Band-aid on Bruce’s hand and checks his knee, confirming it’s nothing worse than a bruise. He then washes the child’s face with a cold cloth, removing the tears.

“Now,” he asks. “Would you like some hot chocolate and cookies to recover from this fright?

Bruce smiles, and Alfred goes to wash his hands.

It’s a year and a half later, and Alfred’s hands are full of blood and dirt as he is burying a bird in the garden. Bruce had found the animal two days ago, probably injured by a stray cat. Despite their best effort, the bird hadn’t made it.

“I won’t cry,” says the kid next to him.

“Oh?” he says. “Why is that?”

“Tayler Cobb said boys shouldn’t cry.”

Alfred feels his heart tightening in anger and sorrow. Tayler Cobb is one of Bruce’s classmates, and he wonders absently who put such an idea in the young lad’s mind. He wonders why such belief is still taught to children.

One thing he’s sure of: the child in his charge won’t have it.

He squats down. “You can cry if you want to. Crying helps release emotions. This is not something shameful, or unmanly.”

“Do you cry?” Bruce asks.

“Sometimes,” Alfred answers honestly. “When I’m hurt, or sad, or feel any strong emotion.”

“Can I cry for the bird?” Bruce says, his eyes already filling with tears.

“Oh, my boyn” Alfred puts a hand on his shoulder. “You can cry.”

And Bruce cries.

It’s six months later, and Bruce doesn’t cry.

He doesn’t cry, no matter how much Gotham High society and journalists expect him to. No matter how many people gather around him, looking for a sob story.

Alfred pushes them away to the best of his ability. He doesn’t cry either, not until he’s in the quiet of his own quarters. There, he can cry. He can cry for Thomas and Martha, his employers who he wouldn’t call friends but sometimes allowed himself to think of in that way. He can cry for Bruce, the young, so young boy who doesn’t. Who stays silent through the funeral and the months following the tragedy.

The boy who Alfred is scared will never talk again.

It’s almost a year later, and Bruce is loud. He’s loud and hurting and he wants to hurt. He wants to punch the walls, to say harsh words, to hurt his teachers and classmates, to hurt Alfred, to hurt himself.

And Alfred doesn’t know what to do. Doesn’t know what to do about this child who is hurtful and hurting.

So he tries. He tries to talk to him. Tries to calm him down. Tries to absorb his hate and sorrow.

Bruce resists, until eventually, he grows tired.

Until he caves in, buries his head in Alfred’s shoulder, in the only thing he has left in the world beside pain, and cries.

Alfred lets him. He knows it won’t solve things, but at least some of his pain is leaking out of his eyes, lost in the butler’s tuxedo.

Just when Alfred thinks the boy finally fell asleep, Bruce murmurs, “It will never happen again.”

The caped crusader won’t cross Gotham’s night until years later, but this is the day Batman is born.

Born from the tears of an orphaned child and a promise.

It will never happen again.

It’s fifteen years later, and it has happened again. Alfred had prepared a meal for when Bruce came back from the circus, ready to hear some of the details of the show and maybe a new project he has to improve his nightly activities.

Instead, he opens his arms for a trembling man. A boy, really, who never ceased to be Alfred’s boy, not since that fateful night. He knows Bruce had been exceptionally good at handling things back at the circus.

He also knows the pressure has to be let go of at some point. And Alfred intends to be there for his housemaster.

For his son.

So, he sits Bruce on the bed after an embrace. Brings him food and water. Lets him stay silent all he wants. Washes his tears with one hand when they eventually fall.

But when he looks up into Bruce’s eyes, he does not see sorrow or despair. He doesn’t even see the anger that will cloud them in the next few months, when they will battle social services.

He sees nothing but utter determination.

“I’m not leaving him alone,” Bruce says. “I can help him.”

It’s several months later, and Bruce is lost. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” he confesses to Alfred in the early hours of the morning. “Sometimes I feel like I can’t help him.”

“My boy,” Alfred says, sitting next to him as Gotham gray down gives them light from the window. “Having a child is hard, especially a child who’s been through so much.”

Bruce opens his mouth to argue but closes it almost immediately. Dick isn’t his child, in the same way Bruce isn’t Alfred’s. But it doesn’t matter right now.

Alfred puts a hand on his back. “I think,” he says. “You know what to do.”

Bruce sighs. He knows what to do. Neither of them likes it.

And Robin is born.

It’s more than ten years later, and Robin is dead.

Bruce is silent again. There are no tears for Alfred to dry, every attempt of comfort rejected.

He watches, powerless, as the man he raised throws himself toward death. He watches as he cuts away his other son and friends. He watches as he tries to cut away Alfred. Alfred won’t go away, he’s like a bad weed, there’s no getting rid of him.

But that doesn’t mean he knows what to do.

No child should lose their parent. But no parent should lose their child.

It’s several agitated years later, and no child should lose their parent. Let alone twice.

But Alfred isn’t sure how much comfort he has left to give to the new Batman and Robin. He wants to be with Dick and Damian. Wants to help them the same way he helped Bruce, all these years ago. He’s just not sure he can when he, too, feels like he’s dying.

Because no parent should lose their kid.

And every day he wakes up is a day he won’t see Bruce. Every day he wakes up is a day he won’t take his son’s hand in comfort. Every day he wakes up is a day he won’t hear his voice.

It’s another five years later and Alfred can hear Bruce talking on the phone in the living room as he enters.

The man seems a little dazed as he puts down the phone and Alfred immediately goes alert.

“What is it?” he asks, getting a chair for Bruce to sit on.

“Nothing bad,” Bruce reassures him, but he still seems a little lost. “Nothing bad at all.”

He takes a deep breath. Smiles. “I was just on the phone with Dick. Koriand’r is pregnant.”

A tear that isn’t born out of sorrow but of the joy of an unexpected new falls from his eye. Alfred wipes it anyway.

“I’m… we’re gonna be…”

He doesn’t have to finish the sentence for Alfred to understand. Tonight, Alfred will open the most precious scotch of the manor, and he will share a drink with Bruce.

To celebrate the fact that the manor is about to become a lot livelier.

It’s some long, happy, and less happy years later, and the manor is quiet.

Alfred stopped his duties as a butler years ago, just before Bruce stopped his as Batman. There is a legacy, because of course there is, and Alfred didn’t feel like leaving the manor.

Like leaving his home.

So, it’s in his room, surrounded by his family, that he’s ready to go to sleep for the last time.

Bruce is crying, holding his hand, but he’s not alone. He’s got someone else now, a lot of them, to dry his tears.

Alfred smiles.

Closes his eyes.

He still doesn’t know if he’s been a good butler, but he’s sure of one thing. One more important thing.

He’s been a good father. -

Endnote: The theme is crying for me crying while I wrote this. Hope you enjoyed the story, many thanks to JustJellyJackal for beta reading.

#batfam #fanfiction #my writing #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #angst #angst and fluff #alfred pennyworth is a good parent #major character death #whumptober 2020 #crying

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maribatlife · 4 years

Text

Unexpected Joys of Motherhood Pt. 2

Jagged is Jagged, Bruce and Dick find out about the shop, and Damian is disappointed

AO3

Pt. 1

As they landed in New York, Marinette felt the pull slip to the South-west, straight towards their final destination of Gotham. By the time they landed in Gotham it was Midnight, she had a cranky toddler, and had to deal with customs. Luckily, over the past year Marinette had learned how to get through Customs quickly, and, with just the slightest bit of help from Tikki, they got through Customs in record time.

Next to the baggage claim, stood the familiar figure of Penny Rolling. Penny had already, efficiently gathered their bags and had a car waiting for them. Damian was asleep by the time they were in the car.

“Jagged wanted to come pick you guys up, but I figured you would rather skip the media attention.” Penny spoke in low tones to avoid waking up Damian.

“Thanks, Penny. Do you know anything about the direction Jagged wants to go with?”

“That’s why he’s insisting on working with you. All he says is that it needs to be…”

“Rocking,” they finished together.

“So probably location inspired looks. Do you have the tour schedule?”

“I’ll have it for you first thing tomorrow.” The car pulled up to the Gotham Omni. “You’re already checked in, room 815. I’ll be able to hold Jagged off until 11, so he’ll probably want the consult around then. There’s a fabric shop down the street, that has excellent reviews.”

“Thanks again, Penny.” Marinette got out of the car, hefting the still sleeping Damian onto her hip, as Penny instructed someone to bring their bags up to their room.

Marinette barely got them both changed into pajamas before collapsing on the bed.

Damian woke her up at 10:15 that morning. “Maman, where are we?”

“Oh, ma puce, we’re in Gotham. Oncle Jagged and Tante Penny will be here soon. So, we should get ready, right mon lapin?”

“Oui, Maman.” Damian rushed over to the open luggage to start preparing for the day. “What are we doing today?”

“It’s a day with Oncle Jagged, so it’s going to be a surprise.” Under her breathe she added “Even to me.”

At 10:55 the room phone started to ring. When Marinette answered it, she was greeted by Penny’s voice saying “He’s on his way up.”

Before she could respond, Penny hung up and there was a knock at the door. Peering the peephole gave her an amazing view of Fang’s tail thumping against the door. Opening it with a smile she was immediately tackled by the overeager reptile before Damian dragged Fang into a weird game that only the two of them understood. She got up, only to be immediately swept into a hug by Jagged.

“How’s my favorite niece?”

“I’m doing go-ack” Jagged released her suddenly as Fang’s tail whipped across his shin. She shot a glance over at Fang and Damian, who suddenly wouldn’t meet her eyes. “I’m doing good. Do you want to jump straight to the consult?”

“Nope, we gotta wait for Pen. I’ve gotta surprise for ya.”

“Jagged, what did you do…” She trailed off as Penny entered the room.

“Don’t worry Marinette, I approved it.”

“Somehow that’s not helping me feel any more comfortable with this.”

“Come on,” Jagged grabbed her wrist as she grabbed her purse and dragged her out of the room. Penny following behind them with Damian, still riding Fang.

They finally stopped in front of a fabric store up the street. “Surprise!” Jagged exclaimed, a grin beaming from ear to ear.

“A fabric store?”

He followed her puzzled stare, “No, that!” he adjusted her positioning so that she was looking at the empty storefront next to the fabric shop.

“Jagged, no.”

He pulled a key out of his pocket. “Jagged yes!”

“Penny, I thought you said you approved.”

“I did, I talked him down from the entire block to just the building.”

“Penny-“

“Marinette, you always wanted to open a boutique. Now you can, plus the third floor has an apartment for you and Damian.”

“But-,” She thought about how right Gotham felt and sighed. “Thanks Jagged.” She grabbed the key. “Time to explore?”

Walking in just cemented how perfect the building was. The ground floor was a large, open space with a small kitchenette, perfect to greet potential clients and hold any ready-wear designs she had available. The next floor was one room. She danced across the room, as she pictured shelving units for bolts of fabric. Even with everything to do custom designs, there was still space for Damian to have a space of his own while she worked. “What was this before?” She wondered.

“No clue, but I knew it was perfect for ya. So watcha gonna call it?”

“Hmmm,” she pondered. “how about Coccinelle et Chat Couture. What do you think mon lapin? Should we bring a little of Paris’ light to Gotham?”

“I like it Maman.”

Jagged insisted on furnishing the store, he said it was for missed birthday and Christmas presents. Marinette, of course, pointed out that he had already bought an entire building for her, be he ignored that in typical Jagged fashion. Penny had later pulled her aside and told her it was written into her contract with them as a signing bonus.

As Marinette was trudging away at opening her boutique, low level hench-people were whispering and capturing Batman’s attention. He found out shortly after Robin was kidnapped by Riddler’s goons. Actually, Robin found out because the two goons on guard duty were gossiping, and then told the Big Bat.

“Ya know,” Goon 1 started. “I heard from Chris who heard from Nan that Jessiee is applying ‘round places.”

“Jesse, from Two-Face’s Gang?” Goon 2 replied.

“Naw, the girl one, runs with Scarecrow.”

“Now who’s gonna hire a Scare-girl? Ya gotta think, dummy.”

“There’s this new place Uptown, gotta weird foreign name. Benny told me that the chick who owns it has this weird interview thing.”

“It’s Gotham, it’s always weird here.”

“Naw not Gotham-weird, weird-weird. Like this guy, Benny knows he’s on the up, 100% legit, comes in and 5 minutes later he’s running out like Batman’s on his tail. Says the chick wanted him to pet a crocodile and then her kid came downstairs and he threatens this guy with a sword and like 2 secs later Ivy walks in with a plant and leaves with a dress.”

Before they could discuss anymore, Batman crashed through the ceiling and that was the end of that. A week later, Batman still wasn’t letting him go anywhere alone. The Dynamic Dou was staking out one of Penguin’s warehouses, when Robin overheard more. While he was perched on an overhang over a door, a few goons came out. There were the usual complaints: the weather, the night, the boss, Batman, the usual, and then, he heard it.

“You, did ya hear that Jess is outta the biz.”

“No way.”

“Yeah she found herself some job at a fancy-shmancy clothing store Uptown.”

“Who Uptown would hire someone with her record?

“The Priss who owns it apparently “liked her aura” or some shit like that.

Robin scurried back to Batman with the information. “B, you’ll never guess what.”

“Robin-“ he warned.

“Fine, I’ll tell you. That girl from Scarecrow’s gang got a job Uptown in a new store. AND Ivy was seen there too, we should investigate.”

Batman just stared.

“I’ll do it myself.”

“Maybe, if things slow down, we can investigate it next week.”

“Fine,” he huffed but recovered quickly. “Last one to the Batmobile is a rotten egg.” And he leapt off the building. If while swinging to the Batmobile he took a slight detour past the new shop, Batman would never know.

Marinette was headed for bed, when she just happened to look out the window as a flash of yellow shot past her bedroom window. No, it wasn’t possible. Chat Noir and she were the last child heroes. There was no way. With that thought plaguing her mind she tossed and turned until she eventually fell into a fitful sleep.

After he returned from dropping Master Dick off at school, he returned to the manor to find Master Bruce had disappeared into his super-secret sulking room, instead of reviewing the papers for the Wayne Enterprises Board Meeting he had tomorrow. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Alfred descended into the Bat Cave. “Master Bruce, what do you think you are doing?”

“Investigating,” he answered not taking his eyes off the computer.

“Indeed, then you have already read every paper Mr. Fox gave you to go over for the board meeting tomorrow?”

“Alfred this is-“

“Obviously more important than continuing the family legacy that funds this habit.”

“Alfred, Ivy bought a dress from this woman.”

“Ah yes, the shopping habits of an environmental extremist are infinitely more important than the future of Wayne Enterprises.”

Bruce sighed as he moved away from the computer. “Where are the papers?”

“On the desk, in your study. Do you need a reminder of how to reach there? It has been a while since you were in there.” Bruce moved past him, ignoring his last comment.

Across town, Marinette was sitting at her sewing machine, the store closed for the day to work on commissions. Jessie was amazing but she wasn’t quite ready to run the store without Marinette being available to help. As she sewed up one of Jagged’s jackets her mind wandered back to the small form that darted past her window last night. She would have heard of any child heroes left. Someone in Gotham would have mentioned it, wouldn’t they have? But what if? No, she shook her head, trying to banish the thought from her mind.

Damian watched her from across the room. Something was bothering his Maman, what could it be?

Reaching a point, to pause she decided to stop for the day. “Ma puce,” she called. “How would you like to bake today? I think Tikki might like some Macarons.”

“You’re done for the day?”

“For now, I might do some embroidery later tonight. Shall we?” She held her hand out to him.

“Okay Maman.”

While Damian patiently watched the Macarons cook through the front of the oven, Marinette started her computer. She had to know for sure. Lost to time she trawled through webpages, searching helplessly for information that went against what she found, until she had to accept it. Batman’s “partner”, Robin, was about the same age she was when she was given the Miraculous. And then she saw red, and it had nothing to do with Tikki blocking her screen. How DARE he? She was startled out of her rage, when a small hand grabbed her arm.

“Maman, the macarons are ready.” Damian said proudly. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, bebe,” She replied as she took them out of the oven to cool.

“But you’re upset.”

She hastily searched for an acceptable answer. “I just learned that Heroes Day, doesn’t exist here. No one celebrates Batman and Robin or any other heroes here.”

“What if we leave cookies out for them Maman? Like you used to for Chat Noir?”

“That’s a good idea, mon lapin.” She replied as she filled the piping bag to put more Macarons in the oven. “Do you want to get a box together for them?”

“Okay Maman!” Something was wrong with his Maman and he was going to figure it out.

As dusk cloaked the city, Damian and Marinette carefully placed the box of cookies on their balcony. Later, after Marinette had fallen asleep, this was confirmed by Plagg, Damian slipped back out to the balcony with Xuppu and Trixx and carefully whispered his plan before climbing into a plant pot. Trixx’s Mirage covered the pot and hid him from anyone’s sight, while Xuppu waited for his cue in between the floorboards. And so, Damian waited and waited. What could have upset Maman so much? He had heard the slight tone of anger in her voice when she mentioned Batman. What had his father done? Hours past until he heard the tell tale thump of heavy combat boots, followed by a lighter thump indicating that both Batman and Robin had arrived.

“Robin, report.”

“All quiet here B. Only thing out of the ordinary is that box on the table. From the looks of it, someone left out cookies. Want me to check it out?”

Batman must have nodded because Damian heard Robin move towards the table. Perfect, the trap was set and ready to be sprung. As he poked his head out of the bush, he saw exactly what had angered Maman. Infuriated he leapt out. “How dare you?” He hissed. That was Xuppu’s cue. With a whisper of “Showtime” as he floated through the floor, a thin layer of oil spread beneath Batman and Robin’s feet. They turned suddenly and slipped due to the oil. “How dare you Father?” As he raged, he slipped into a mixture of French and the language of the guardians. “How dare you betray, Maman’s trust like that.”

“Who are you?” Robin asked, half in awe of the tiny toddler who was probably cursing Batman out in a different language.

“I am Damian al Ghul-Dupain-Cheng, and you Father,” he sneered as he stalked past the two heroes, still on the floor limbs akimbo, “Are a disappointment.” With that final proclamation he entered the home and locked the door.

Robin looked towards Batman, "So should I grab the cookies before we head to the cave or..."

#brucinette #The Unexpected Joys of Motherhood #maribat #My writing

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afni-fics · 3 years

Text

Elder Scrolls DC - A Reluctant Dragonborn - Chapter 6: Enter Lucien Flavius

Elder Scrolls DC - A Reluctant Dragonborn - Chapter 6: Enter Lucien Flavius by C_R_Scott Chapters: 6/? Fandom: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Red Robin (Comics), DCU (Comics) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Characters: Tim Drake, Lucien Flavius Additional Tags: Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Skyrim/DCU crossover, Reluctant Dovahkiin | Dragonborn, Not Beta Read

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter

Summary: Tim returns to Riverwood before attempting to trek to Bleak Falls Barrows. However, instead of gathering supplies to prepare for his assignment, he ends up picking up a companion.

(NOTE: I'm in the process of reblogging the initial chapters of this story because, for some reason, Tumblr won't let me edit the earlier versions that I created using the Tumblr app on my phone. I'm also in the process of creating a masterlist for this series)

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

The next morning, after spending the evening at the Bannered Mare Inn in Whiterun and visiting the apothecary to pick up some salve for his burns, Tim reversed his journey back to Riverwood. As he walked, he thought about something the woman in the apothecary shop said as he made his purchase that morning.

***

"A severe lingering wound like that really needs to be looked at by someone with skills in healing arts. The damage is deep and basic healing potions aren't going to be strong enough to heal it completely. Perhaps if I had some stronger ingredients I could brew up a potion powerful enough to fix this, but I don't have any in stock," the elderly alchemist Arcadia said with concern. "There's a temple of Kynareth up the steps in the Cloud District. It would take a few days, but my friend Danica and her apprentice could heal that completely for you."

Tim had sighed and shaken his head. "I wish I could, but the Jarl's given me an assignment that needs to be completed as soon as possible. I don't have a few days to spare." At the even more concerned look Arcadia gave him, one that was very similar to the kind Alfred used to give him when he'd overwork himself, Tim relented. "When I complete the Jarl's task and return to Whiterun, I promise I'll visit the temple."

***

The salve Arcadia gave him would ease some of the pain and prevent the burn from becoming infected, but it wouldn't heal the wound outright, and she was insistent he visit the temple as soon as he returned to Whiterun. Tim wished he could have taken some time to do this, but Balgruuf was right. With that dragon on the loose, the Jarl and his wizard needed as much information as they could get to protect the people of the hold.

Besides... He was used to working while injured. It almost felt... normal.

What wasn't normal was how little money he now had. The medicine, though necessary, had eaten up nearly all the Septims he had leftover after his night the Bannered Mare Inn. With a deepening sense of dread, Tim realized he couldn't remember ever being so broke before. It was an unsettling anxious feeling that he really didn't like. Is this what it was like for people who had to live paycheck to paycheck, just one medical disaster away from financial ruin? Is this what it felt like to be forced to work on a job not just out of a sense of duty or responsibility, but because if you didn't you'd have to potentially starve or be homeless?

***

"Ah! Good to see you again!" a friendly voice shook Tim from his thoughts. Apparently, while lost in his thoughts on his journey to Riverwood, he'd entered a sort of autopilot and hadn't been aware of how far he'd travelled. He glanced up, startled, to see he was already on the bridge entering Riverwood. He glanced at the sky, noting the color of twilight and the few stars starting to peak out across the expanse. Then he turned to the voice, which belonged to Gerdur.

"Oh. Hello," Tim said.

The blonde Nord woman smiled. "I see that your meeting with Balgruuf went well," she said as she walked over to meet Tim at the gate leading into the town. "The guards from Whiterun just arrived a few hours ago and set up camp on the other end of town. They're already patrolling the area between here and Helgen. Thank you so much for seeing the Jarl for us."

Tim smiled as well. "If it makes Riverwood safer, I'm glad to have been able to help."

Gerdur inclined her head toward the Sleeping Giant Inn. "Come on, let me treat you to a meal and some mead. I'm meeting my husband Hod there, and we would love to hear about how things went with the Jarl over a pint or two."

By reflex, Tim almost declined. But he swiftly remember his current financial state and, of course, he didn't want to be rude to Gerdur. "A meal and some mead sounds wonderful. Lead the way."

***

Because Riverwood was such a small town, news apparently travelled like wildfire among the townsfolks. As Tim settled in at the Sleeping Giant Inn, he had folks coming by every few minutes to thank him for speaking with Jarl Balgruff and sending the guards. So many people were offering to buy him drinks he just couldn't physically consume that the owner of the Inn, a woman named Delphine, actually set up a tab for him that she allowed the citizens of Riverwood to pay into. In the end, as long as he was in Riverwood, Tim would't have to worry about food or drink for a good week at least.

"So the Jarl's mage wants you to fetch something from Bleak Falls Barrow?" Hod, Gurder's husband, asked curiously.

Tim nodded. "Something called a Dragonstone. Have you or anyone else heard of it?"

Gerdur shook her head. "I've lived beneath the shadow of the Barrow nearly my entire life and I've never heard of such a thing."

"What is the Barrow anyways?" Tim asked.

"I forget you're not from Skyrim," Gerdur started. "Back in ancient times, during the Merethic Era, when there was a cult who worshipped dragons instead of the Nine Divine, Bleak Falls Barrow used to be both a temple for them to worship and a place to bury their dead. Of course, now there is no Dragon Cult, and the Barrow are ruins. However, a dark magic lingers in that place, and rumor has it that the halls of the Barrow are still walked by the restless dead, forced to serve their ancient dragon cult masters even now."

"So dragons, magic, and zombies... great..." Tim muttered sullenly into his mug of ale before draining the last bit of it.

Hod regarded Tim with concern. "Are you sure you want to go to the Barrow? Last we saw you, you weren't in the best of shape after Helgen."

Tim force a reassuring smile. "I'm fine now. I visited Arcadia in Whiterun and she gave me some medicine. Nothing to worry about."

Hod breathed a small sigh of relief. "That's good. Even a healthy warrior visiting the Barrow would find exploring that accursed place a challenge."

***

Gerdur and her husband lingered a bit longer at the inn with Tim. But as the hour grew late, they rose to leave. Being woodcutters, their day started early. "Make sure you come to our home after you're done here," Gerdur insisted. "Don't go wasting your coin on the inn for the night."

"Of course. I won't be much longer. Just want to finish this pint."

By now most of the patrons of the inn had gone, and once Hod and Gerdur left, there were just one or two left. Tim's smile faded as he stared into mug.

"What am I going to do?" he whispered to himself.

"Excuse me, sir. I don't normally do this, but... erm... have you got a moment to talk?"

Tim barely heard the footsteps approaching him, but he did notice when a stranger took a seat on the bench next to him where Hod had been just a short time before. Tim glanced at the man. He clearly wasn't a Nord. The accent was more... British, and he wore clothing that clearly spoke of someone with money. It confused Tim and immediately put him on guard. "I might," Tim responded cooly before feigning taking a sip from his mug.

The stranger smiled. "Marvelous. My name is Lucien Flavius. I'm a scientist, philosopher, amateur wizard, and something of a musician, though I supposed that's more of a hobby..."

Tim narrowed his brows as he stared hard at Lucien, silently willing him to please get to the point.

Lucien appeared to get the hint. "Ah- I couldn't help overhearing that you are going to be making a trip up to the Bleak Falls Barrows in the morning."

"I might... What is it to you?"

"Well, as a matter of fact, I'm here in Skyrim on an expedition - academic mainly. I'm currently employed as a researcher for a new museum based out of Solitude. I was sent to this region on a few errands, and one of them is investigating those same Barrows. I'm to investigate the ruins and determine if they're of enough significant archaeological importance to fund a fully manned excavation into it.

"Alas, when I got here, I found out that in addition to the Barrow being crawling with Draugr, the outer area around the ruins has become the infested with bandits.

"Trouble is, I'm really not much of a fighter. I know a few spells and can just about swing a sword, but beyond that I'm pretty useless in combat. Skyrim's no place for a... 'milk drinker' like me - not on my own anyway. So I'm looking for someone to travel with.

"My original plan was to make my way to Whiterun in the morning and hire a mercenary to escort me through the Barrow, but since you're already heading that way, perhaps I could tag along with you instead? It would save me a couple of days of travel between here and Whiterun."

Tim began to shake his head. "It wouldn't be safe--"

"I will, of course, compensate you most handsomely for putting up with me."

"Really, Lucien, I don't think--"

"Would three hundred Septims up front be enough?"

Tim was so startled by the amount he couldn't mask his wide eyed look of surprise and his protest against Lucien seemed to be cut off at the knees. Sensing a crack in the young man's resolve, the scholar pushed forward, sweetening the pot even further as he pulled out a bag bulging with coin and set it on the table between them.

"Here. You can have this now. After that, I'll top you up every time we come across something useful to my research. This is all at your discretion, of course. No obligations, save that you take me with you, and assist in keeping me alive wherever possible."

He wanted to say no. Tim wanted to push the bag of coins away and encourage the scholar to go to Whiterun and hire a proper mercenary to keep him safe. It would be better for him that way. However...

"I suppose we have a deal," Tim finally relented with a sigh as he picked up the bag of coins and weighed it thoughtfully in his hand.

Lucien's face lit up. "Oh, splendid! This is going to be quite the adventure!"

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

NOTE: Lucien Flavius is an original character Joseph Russell that can be downloaded and added to your Skyrim game as an immersive, fully voiced unique follower.

(https://www.nexusmods.com/skyrimspecialedition/mods/20035)

Normally, you would find him in the inn of a different town, but I've made some adjustments in this story so that Tim meets him w/out going there. In this story, Lucien is a scholar working for a special new museum based out of Solitude (https://www.nexusmods.com/skyrimspecialedition/mods/11802) and he's actually on the "relic hunter" initial storyline that comes if you use the "Alternate Start - Live Another Life" mod where your main character chooses to go to Solitude via ship and you have a life where you are a relic hunter invited by the museum's curator to Skyrim (https://www.nexusmods.com/skyrimspecialedition/mods/272).

#elder scrolls dc #tim drake #red robin #fanfiction #batfam #wip #crossover #skyrim fanfiction #spoiler warning: skyrim

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scaryscarecrows · 4 years

Text

Up on the Van Top

AN: I HAVE BEEN SITTING ON THIS. FOR MONTHS. MONTHS. I hope you appreciate the self-control that required.

* * *

Bruce isn’t sure what he’s expecting when Gordon calls him with a curt, “You need to come to the Iceberg Lounge.”

It isn’t this, he’s sure. Nobody could expect this.

The Lounge is fine. It’s been decorated for the season, glistening baubles all but cackling about being bought with money obtained through illegal activities. It’s suspiciously empty, though that could be explained by the presence of GCPD.

Or not.

Oswald Cobblepot is tied from ankles to head in what appears to be ribbon. A big, sparkly red bow sits atop his hat. A…ball of reindeer socks…has been crammed in his mouth. He looks furious. It doesn’t help that there’s an envelope with ‘Batman’ scrawled on it taped to his chest.

There are two possible reasons for this, and Bruce is doubting it’s some new, holiday-themed vigilante introducing themselves, which leaves…

He reaches forward and plucks the socks free. Cobblepot makes a face reminiscent of an enraged terrier Bruce once saw on the internet.* He breathes deeply for a few seconds, nose wrinkling, and finally snarls, “Control your brats!”

No, it is not a new holiday-themed vigilante. Part of him dies a little inside.

Where did I go so wrong?

Bullock swallows a snicker. Gordon has a little more tact.

“Come on, Oswald. Let’s go.”

“Go? Go where? I have done nothing to warrant being attacked by that--that festive fiend--”

Gordon holds up a flash drive wrapped in polka-dotted washi tape.

“I got a present, too. Let’s go.”

Bruce tugs the envelope free before stepping aside. Gordon cuts the ribbon and guides Cobblepot towards the door. Bruce will follow in a few minutes-he has to know, now, what happened here-but first, card. Alfred’s stringent rule of ‘card, then present’ is deeply ingrained. He’ll know if Bruce ignores it--what’s that?

It’s a small box, wrapped nicely, with ‘Agent A’ scrawled on it. Ah. He’ll deliver that, then.

The card is blue, with a little silhouette of Santa’s sleigh going across it. The inside, on the other hand, is filled with that spiky writing he remembers so well.

I gotcha an angry bird, B! :D <3, J.T.

Bruce has never been good at leaving things alone. Even things that he’s probably going to regret. So, of course, he follows Gordon to the police station, arranges for a private interview with Cobblepot, and swallows the Parent Voice that he used to use for parent-teacher conferences when he says, “What happened.”

* * *

Earlier that evening…

Honestly, this is probably the biggest spur-of-the-moment thing Jason has ever done. Or at least one of them. But…well…he was hungry. That’s how this started.

He’d been standing in the Circle K, looking for food. All they’d friggin’ had was Hot Cheetos, and honestly, after the Hot Cheeto Disaster of ’08, he’d seriously consider starving rather than touch one ever again.

(Oh, God. After everything, that incident still held the power to make him shudder.)

And then it was there, on an endcap, surrounded by candy canes and snowman-topped PEZ machines, that he saw it. Somewhere, Alfred wept. Dick felt a warm sense of…maybe pride. Bruce was probably suddenly stricken with the need to sulk on a gargoyle.

…well, a bigger need than usual. A primal urge, if you would.

And that’s why Jason now has a Santa hat and beard on over his helmet. It took a bit of superglue to get them to stick, but he did it, in the end. So here he is, crouched on a crane by the docks, empty bag in hand.

Penguin is late. The guys he’s meeting are here, but the man himself, petty bastard that he is, is nowhere to be seen--wait.

He hears a van. It’s a clunky, crappy sound. He knows that sound.

Ho, ho, ho, motherfuckers.

He straightens up, stalks to the edge of the shipping crate he’s settled on, and waits for the van to sputter to an almost-stop before stepping off the edge--

--and landing on the hood with a nasty-sounding CRUNCH! The driver blinks at him in confusion before things come together for him and he hollers, “WE GOT A PROBLEM, BOYS!”

Jason waggles his fingers at him, hops to the ground, and saunters towards the back, smacking his palm against the side of the van on the way. There’s shouting inside. He doesn’t hear Penguin, but to be fair, he didn’t expect him to show up in this piece of crap. Oz has self-respect.

Or. More self-respect than the suckers he hires.

He stops a foot or so away from the doors and waits. Now that the pounding’s stopped, it’s quiet in the van. Well. Almost quiet-there appears to be a hushed argument over who has to open the door.

Well? Come on! Are you men or mice?

Silence from the van, broken only by a whispered, “Rock, paper, scissors, shoot--I hate you. I hate you all.”

“Get out, bitch.”

“Screw you,” the first man snarls, and then he straight-up kicks the door open like this is some 90s white-man-learns-karate movie. “Come on, Red Hood!”

“Someone’s on the naughty list.”

Apparently figuring go big or go home, Naughty List shoots at him. He misses, because no Gotham Goon can shoot straight, but he tries. Which means, of course, that anything Jason does to him now is in self-defense and absolutely legal in every way.

Honest.

Even though the bullet would have missed him by a mile, Jason decides to boost Naughty List’s morale by hurling himself to the side...and hopping on top of the van. It’s like popping a pimple; there’s yelling, and then a stream of men spill out. Now that they’re all out, he grapples away to get a better look.

And also to scare them shitless, because what’s the fun in being nice?

“Is he gone?”

“Maybe he’s gone.”

“Holy shit, you scared him off.” Pfft, nah. “Dude, I’m sorry I called you a bitch.”

“Eh, no offense taken.”

Well, isn’t that nice. He resists the urge to give ‘em his Tiny Tim impression (probably not so good, now) and swings to the roof of the little office overlooking the dock.

“Check the area to make sure,” somebody says. “F’we bring his head to Penguin, we might get bonuses.”

Yeah, they might. Penguin’s got it in for him, a little, even if he did...sort of...apologize for asking about the bottle in his eye.

Sorry, Oz.

Well, if they’re gonna be all gung-ho about it…

He throws a smoke pellet into their midst and when they start screaming (and one of them is crying, Christ), leaps down after it.

“Doncha know the song, boys? Sing it with me, now...you better not pout, you better not cry, you better not shout, I’m tellin’ you why…” SCHWING! A head rolls and he has to dive to grab it and shove it in his bag. “Santa Hood is comin’...to toooown!”

By the time the smoke clears, there are three headless corpses, two crying mooks, and one horribly bloody machete. Jason tosses the machete to the ground and looks at the survivors. They’re unarmed. One of them is literally unarmed, meaning that his arm is lying on the ground, and the other one is bleeding from the side. Huh. He doesn’t remember doing that.

“I’m feelin’ the holiday spirit tonight, boys,” he says. “So tell ya what. You tell me where your boss is, and you can run right along to the emergency room.”

To the shock of none, the, uh, unarmed one rolls over immediately.

“He had a meetin’! With Dent, they’re at the Dos Amigos club downtown!”

“‘preciate that,” Jason says sincerely, hefts the bag over his shoulder. “You might wanna get that checked out. Looks like it hurts.”

Now. He has a present to give to Penguin.

THE END

*Tim sent Bruce a video of Mr. Bubz. Ask and ye shall receive the same.

#Jason Todd #unlucky goons #Jason ruining the holidays for criminals #Santa Hood #Bruce is so tired #he can't even disown him because Alfred would be #ANGRY #(and he would never)#the three M's of Vigilantism: mockery maiming and murder

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tessatechaitea · 5 years

Text

Batman #442

Can you believe thirty years ago, DC was trying to convince a bunch of adults that it was okay to read their kiddy mags?

There wasn't this much sexual tension in the last porn I watched.

This is my reputation on the line so I'd just like to point out that the above scanned panel is all off-kilter because the entire stupid page was wonky. I fucking scan like a champ! Meanwhile, Two-Face struggles to set off the explosives in the basement where Batman and Nightwing are trapped. First he needs to argue with himself about how to flip the coin. Does he catch it and flip it over onto the back of his hand? Well, to decide that, he's going to have to flip the coin. But if he's yet to decide how to flip the coin, how does he flip the coin to decide how to flip the coin?! It's a wonder Two-Face ever comes to any conclusive decision at all! I'm suddenly realizing he's Batman's least believable nemesis! And Batman sometimes fights a guy with eyes on all his fingers! Two-Face flips his coin (I suppose he's long ago figured out the procedure for coin flipping. I bet getting stuck on how to flip the coin meant he got his ass beat by Batman one too many times. Being a lawyer, he realized he needed to be prepared for pressure situations like this). The results allow him to blow up Batman and Nightwing. But he still has to wait until 2 in the morning. Or 2:02? Maybe 2:20? 2:22? I guess this time, 2:00 A.M. is fine. And being that Tim mentioned earlier that it was almost two, it looks like it's over for Bruce and Dick! But wait! Help is on the way!

If Alfred and Tim are doing what I think Alfred and Tim are doing, who's driving?!

Tim puts on Robin's suit not because he's been stalking Batman for six years and he's desperate to become the new Robin but because he has to! To save Batman's emotional psyche! It's the most unselfish thing Tim Drake has ever done! It's not like he knew at this moment that he'd eventually get to fuck Stephanie Cluemaster! That was just a reward for being so selfless! I mean Stephanie Cluemaster has agency and her sexuality isn't anybody's trophy! Also Tim is just thirteen and it's 1989 so he probably doesn't know how to have sex. You can only glean so much from MTV and the occasional nudie magazine dredged up in the bushes outside the local high school. I mean, I was pretty sure I knew how to have sex when I was thirteen from watching Lionel Richie's video for "Hello." Seriously though, I have no idea when I went from not knowing what sex was to knowing what it was. I remember seeing Clash of the Titans at the theater when I was ten and not knowing what a virgin was. So I probably didn't know what sex was at ten. It's also probable I knew at ten but just didn't know there was a word for what I am. I mean was! At ten! But by twelve, my friend Hobby Benline had had sex, so I must have known what it was by then. Unless he did it wrong and I got the information from him! Really though, I just don't know where the information came from. I think it must have just sort of condensed inside my head from a whole bunch of disparate notions and experiences.

This fucker is crazy.

Some of you Internet denizens who probably overuse the word "meh" (overuse constitutes a single use) are probably furiously typing, "You just realized that?!" Obviously I knew Two-Face was crazy! That's the whole point of all Batman's villains or else why would Arkham Kiddy-Care be a thing? But that little speech he just gave is really fucking overplaying the whole double thing! I thought maybe he was going to get all excited about the two nines in 1899 or how 1899 is sort of two 18s or maybe he was going to marvel about how he has two grandfathers! This fucker is finding twos every Goddamned where! You can tell Marv Wolfman doesn't write too many Two-Face story because across three Batman issues, he's really blown his wad on finding ways to incorporate the doubling theme. Alfred and Tim arrive just in the nick of time to see the house explode. Tim punches Two-Face in the jaw but only once so it doesn't hurt him. That's what happens when you jump right into the Robin costume without learning about the criminal you're after. Two-Face manages to pick up a crowbar to swing at Tim's head while Alfred can only watch while shitting himself and thinking, "Why the fuck can't I keep the number of a child psychologist on hand at all times?!"

The face of a man culpable for the deaths of too many children's innocence. And also just their deaths. Real deaths. Of children. One at least. Maybe now two. Fucking monster.

Robin manages to jump out of the way without mouthing off which makes Two-Face suspect something is different with Robin. He's all, "Where are all your terrible jokes, Boy Wonder?" And since we know there's an afterlife in the DC Universe, Jason Todd hears Two-Face's critique of his one-liners and his heart hardens. That's why he comes back willing to kill. Alfred finally jumps in to stop Two-Face from killing Tim while yelling, "He's only a boy!" No fucking shit, Pennyworth. Maybe you should have considered that before you allowed Bruce to never get therapy so that he eventually begins wearing a batsuit which eventually leads him to bringing in a young boy to help fight murderers which eventually led him to bringing in another young boy who was killed fighting murderers which eventually led to you driving this "only a boy" to the feet of a murderer while also lending him a superhero outfit to die in. Fuck you, Alfred! You fucking suck. I actually really like Alfred! But fuck is he problematic!

Jesus Christ, Alfred! Code names, you putz!

Alfred is making me so angry this issue! I hope Batman fires him at the end of this. He needs some time off to get his head together. Enough with being an accessory to child endangerment! Tim helps dig out Batman and Nightwing who both survived Two-Face's terrible explosives. I guess BOGO explosives aren't too reliable. And since it was Two-Face, if one of them survived, both of them had to survive. It's part of Two-Face's rules of conduct. Batman sees Robin and tears the mask off of his face, declaring there is no more Robin. But Dick and Alfred are all, "You should have seen him! He's so smart and agile and he's got terrific legs!" But Batman is apparently the only sensible one in this fucking bunch of child-murdering lunatics.

Look, I know how this ultimately turns out. But at least for one panel, I can think, "Way to go, Batman. Good decision! I'm proud of you!"

Tim is all, "Batman needs a Robin!" And Batman is all, "Fuck you!" But then Tim counters with, "What if The Joker brags about killing Robin and everybody is all, 'Hey, yeah. Where is Robin?! Man, we can kill anybody now, I guess!'" And Batman is all, "Well, I mean, it's dangerous work!" And Robin is all, "I know! That was your initial reason to not let me be Robin!" And Batman is all, "Well, I'm not hiring right now! I need to catch Two-Face! He's gotten away!" And Robin is all, "I put a tracker on him!" And Alfred and Nightwing are smiling and elbowing each other and winking and not saying at all, "Batman is going to get this kid killed!" Finally, Batman relents and agrees to discuss it because he's argued against it long enough to make it seem reasonable. Fans can't say Batman just gave in! It was an emotional debate that sorely tested my reading comprehension. Such powerful arguments on both sides! With minimal help from Robin (but enough for Batman's heart to melt), Two-Face is captured!

Later in, presumably, Alfred's bedroom.

Batman eventually relents and decides to train Tim on a trial basis. I guess all of the arguments convinced me as well. Batman totally needs a Robin! How else would, um, Batman do the, um, thing or the other, um, I mean, he just needs Robin! Duh! Batman #442 Rating: C. This issue wasn't really any worse than the others but somehow I can't bring myself to believe Dick and Alfred would be so excited about getting Batman a new Robin. I guess it's like when a friend loses a pet and you have to watch your friend spiral into a severe depression and you don't know how to make them feel better and finally the only thing you can think to do is to buy them a new pet. Then you're happy and giggly and excited when you see the way your friend's eyes light up even if they act like they resent the attempt at making them feel better. And you know the pet is going to quickly worm its way into their heart and you don't care that your friend often throws their pet off of high bridges attached to home-made parachutes because you're not thinking about the safety of the pet at this moment. Your whole purpose is just to make your friend feel better. And that's whey Alfred and Nightwing are so happy putting Tim's life in danger. Because they love Batman that much!

#Batman #A Lonely Place of Dying #Dick Grayson #Tim Drake #DC Comics #DC #First Tim Drake as Robin story

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justwhymsical · 6 years

Text

E.R. (USUK)

Summary: "There are rumours, you know," Alfred whispered into Arthur's ear. "That the Head Nurse likes the new driver."

Just a little thing I found and polished up. Full story can also be read on my AO3! Link’s at the top of my blog under the ‘My Writing’ link~

The volunteer E.R. ambulance driver really was hot. Twenty-four, American, with blond hair, bright blue eyes, and an extremely well-built form. Arthur had been taken with him since the moment he saw the man nearly four years ago. But he was only around from May to the end of August, so the English nurse figured he was in school and volunteered whenever summertime rolled around. Arthur didn't see him too often as he usually stayed in the ambulance, but it made his day a little brighter whenever he caught glimpse of him.

"Oi, Arthur, your little lovebird's got a shift tonight." Gilbert, another nurse, chuckled as he passed. "Do ya even know his name?"

Arthur huffed. "That's not- what?" He frowned. "It's October."

"Yeah!" Gilbert's strange laughter was heard all the way down the hall. "He's here full time now, maybe you'll have more of a chance!"

"Piss off!" Arthur called after him, though his thoughts were racing with the glimmers of possibilities. He glanced at the clock periodically throughout the day, and finally in the evening smiled. The next shift was about to start, so perhaps he was still in the drivers' office. It wouldn't hurt to walk past, surely…

As he was rounding the corner he crashed into someone, and being the smaller and lighter person, he ended up on the floor. Rubbing his head and blinking, he looked up and froze.

"Hey dude, I'm so sorry! Are you okay?"

And who was leaning over him, concerned, other than the very person he’d been hoping to see? Arthur took the hand proffered to him and scrambled up, looking quite firmly at the handsome driver's shoulder. "I'm all right, it was my fault, I wasn’t looking where I was going-"

"No problem." The man shook his hand enthusiastically before Arthur could let go. "Hey, I've seen you around before! You're Arthur Kirkland, head nurse for the E.R., right?"

"Y-Yes, I am." Arthur stared at him, dumbfounded. His name was known?! And oh, how lovely it sounded, falling from the American's lips. He wondered how it would feel breathed against his skin- "And you are…?"

"Oh, right! Sorry. I'm Alfred F. Jones! Just got hired full time like two weeks ago." Alfred grinned.

"A pleasure to meet you." Oh it was much more than a pleasure.

"You too!" Alfred let go of his hand and glanced at his watch. "Uhh, I should probably get going out to the ambulance, check if everything's okay, y'know?"

"Yes, I suppose so. I'll see you around then, Mr. Jones?"

"Call me Alfred. And sure, see ya!" Flashing him another smile, Alfred continued down the hallway.

There was a small, warm smile on Arthur's face for the rest of the day, something that didn't go unnoticed by Gilbert. The albino teased him mercilessly about it at first but soon stopped after Arthur increased his workload. The Englishman did indeed catch glimpses of Alfred during the way when someone new was brought in. They didn't have long, perhaps a few seconds at most, but Alfred waved every time and Arthur smiled back.

"You've gotten simultaneously more easy and also a bigger stick up your ass," Gilbert complained to him one day a few weeks later, sprawling over the front desk. The clock showed half twelve in the morning, and all was quiet. Well, at least it had been until a few moments ago.

"How so?" Arthur turned away from the book he was reading to face him. He always took his shifts with Gilbert so he could keep an eye on the man.

"Alfred," Gilbert stated flatly. "How long you gonna keep dancing around him?"

"Shut up," Arthur immediately snapped back.

"See? There's that massive stick!" Gilbert suddenly smirked. "Though maybe you're just getting ready for some nice hot American di-"

"Piss off, Beilschmidt!"

Gilbert snickered more but went back to his computer screen. Arthur was sure it wasn't even remotely work-related, but he didn't comment. The room returned to blissful silence for a few minutes, before it was inevitably shattered once more. This time it was by the very object of Arthur's affections.

"Hello there, my cousin-"

"Artie!" Alfred cut across the other person who was speaking.

Arthur glanced up, shocked to see two Alfreds. Then he looked closer and saw one of the figures was not Alfred at all, just someone similar in appearance. He focused on the actual Alfred, who was bleeding quite heavily from the arm. "What the hell happened to you?"

"One of Mattie's rabbits got out so I had to chase it and I might have gotten a bit impaled on a chainlink fence. But I got the rabbit!" Alfred looked incredibly proud of the fact. "And this is Mattie!" He pushed the other man forwards.

"Ar-"

"Gilbert Beilschmidt, the Awesome," Gilbert interrupted, shoving Arthur to the side to hold out his hand for a handshake.

"Matthew Williams," Matthew replied, shaking it with a small smile. "I'd like to sign my idiotic cousin in."

"Oi! You call me idiotic now, but who was beggin' me to get your bun?" Alfred protested, pouting and wincing slightly as he pressed the towel more firmly against his arm.

"Right. Gilbert, you stay with Mr. Williams and complete the process while I take Mr. Jones to get treated." Arthur turned to Matthew. "I'm Arthur Kirkland, Head Nurse, and I assure you he'll get the very best care here."

Matthew suddenly smiled more. "Oh I'm sure he will." He chuckled when Alfred jabbed him and then turned back to Gilbert. "So can you help me with this process?"

Arthur meanwhile touched Alfred's sleeve and guided him to a quiet room. "Get settled on the bed, please."

"Will do, Nurse." Alfred grinned and hopped onto the bed.

Muttering softly under his breath, Arthur quickly took all of his vital signs and disinfected the bloody area before lightly pressing a fresh towel against it. "You'll most likely need stitches for that, so I'll get the doctor now. You'll be fine with him." He turned to leave, but paused when Alfred suddenly latched onto his arm. "Alfred-"

"Stay with me. Please," Alfred said, eyes wide. "Stitches mean anaesthetic and anaesthetic means n-needles, right?"

"Yes… Are you afraid of needles?"

Alfred nodded.

"All right then. I'll stay. But let me get the doctor, hmm?" Arthur gently pried Alfred's fingers off his wrist, though he was loath to do so.

"Okay."

"I'll be right back, Alfred, all right?" At the American's nod, Arthur returned one and left the room. He was smiling slightly; he was treating Alfred and Alfred wanted him to stay.

Along the way Gilbert came up to him and gave him Alfred's papers, the entire time going off about Matthew this and Matthew that. Arthur didn't really pay attention too much, though he did store the information away for future blackmail. Finally the albino wandered off back to Matthew and Arthur continued to the doctor's office. He was back with Alfred less than three minutes later.

"He'll be right with you."

Nodding, Alfred gestured him closer. "Okay. That's okay," he muttered, grasping at Arthur's arm the moment it came into reach. "Sit."

Arthur settled down next to him and watched him from the corner of his eye. He could practically feel every nerve in his arm tingling, especially in the spot Alfred was touching. He watched the American for a few moments before he realized he should probably be comforting. "You'll be fine, Alfred."

"I- I know." Alfred gazed back at him, fingers twitching. "It's just still- the sight of it makes me queasy."

"I understand." Arthur glanced to the door as the doctor entered before patting Alfred's knee. "You don't even have to look."

The doctor seemed surprised that Arthur was there, but allowed him to stay. He checked on the cut and then took out the anaesthetic. Alfred flinched, but Arthur offered him his shoulder and he eagerly agreed. Then, nose buried against Arthur's neck, he endured the stitching. The little tugging sensations felt strange, but thanks to the anaesthetic it didn't hurt at all.

When he was finished, the doctor praised Alfred for sitting still like he would a child, but Alfred seemed much happier so Arthur did as well. Then it was time for Alfred to go home, and Arthur found he really didn't want him gone.

"You feel all right?" Arthur asked, stalling for time a little bit.

"Yeah. Hurts a little bit, but that's just cuz the anaesthetic's wearing off." Alfred gave him a grin. "Thanks for stayin' with me."

"It's no problem. Will you be in tomorrow?"

Alfred shook his head. "Nah. I'm gonna stay at home and rest a bit." He saw Arthur's almost imperceptible disappointment and grinned. "Why, will ya miss me?"

"Wh- No-"

"It's okay." Alfred cut across his sputters by hugging him. "There are rumours, you know," he whispered into Arthur's ear. "That the Head Nurse likes the new driver."

"Gilbert, I swear I’ll flay him-" Arthur had turned fully red by this point. He buried his face more in Alfred's neck, though only because it was the most convenient place. Of course.

"Heh. Well that particular driver finds the Head Nurse real cute too." Alfred lightly stroked his back. "Why don't you swing by tomorrow? Or uhh, I guess later today. We can watch a movie or somethin'."

Arthur pulled away and looked at him skeptically for a moment before nodding, his expression softening. "If you'd like."

"I would." Alfred leaned in and kissed his cheek. "So come by just whenever you get off, kay? I'll be in all day."

Arthur’s cheeks flushed. "I'm actually not working later today at all. Once this shift is over I'll be going home until the next day," he explained. "So I'll be able to come 'round in the late afternoon after I've slept for a bit."

"Sounds good!" Alfred glanced past him into the waiting room. "Though you might not be he only one comin' by." he snickered.

"What, Gilbert?" Arthur followed his gaze to see Gilbert hitting on Matthew in a painfully obvious manner. At least Matthew seemed not to mind it. An arm settled across his shoulders and he looked back to Alfred. "Yes?"

"Nothin'." Alfred gave him a squeeze. "We should be gettin' out there..."

"I suppose so." Arthur slipped out from under his arm and stepped into the room. "You should keep that clean- and perhaps stay away from that rabbit for a few days?"

Alfred followed him, albeit reluctantly. "If ya say so, Nurse!"

Matthew and Gilbert broke off from their conversation to face then, the blond with reddened cheeks. Gilbert smirked. "Lovebirds number two have returned."

Arthur smacked him. "Shut it, Beilschmidt." He turned to Matthew. "He's all done. If there's any pain then some simple painkillers will do."

"Thank you." Matthew handed Alfred his coat.

"It's no problem. I'll see you later, Alfred?"

"Yeah!" Alfred gave him a grin and wave. With a nod at Gilbert he grabbed Matthew and pulled him out of the hospital.

Arthur watched him leave fondly, a smile coming to his face when he saw Alfred pat the ambulance he drove. When they were out of sight he settled back at his desk. He felt Gilbert's gaze on him and shook it off, but a few minutes later it was still there. "What do you want?" he asked, looking up to meet Gilbert's smirk.

"Loosened up enough to land a date? If you're lucky you'll land in bed-"

"Oh shove off, Beilschmidt!"

#hetalia #usuk #aph england #aph america #hetalia fanfiction #my writing

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isaiah-lee · 3 years

Text

FLASHBACK: Jakarta, Indonesia

ISAIAH: This is not his first time that Graham invited him to join the oldest children's annual meeting in every family. A nurturing environment made by Hiram resulted to makes him conscientious every time he turned up to Jakarta to fulfilled his grandfather's every expectation. During the trip, Isaiah never stops thinking about his performance to show up throughout his studies at MIT. He has to fortify his position in the family but has nothing to eager the blood.

A few hours later, Isaiah's plane touches down at the airport then makes his way to the car. In the car, on the way to the mansion, his private servant gives out an idea.

"Should I talk about that? Pointless."

KIANA: “Miss Kiana, I’m afraid you’ll hurt your cheekbones if you keep grinning like that.” The young lady emitted a clear laugh upon hearing the butler's words. The kind of laughter that will brighten up your mood even on the worst of a day.

“I couldn’t help it, Alfred. I’m so happy to know that I get into my dream university, ” her voice a fraction softer. Kiana has been anxious about her college submission. She was confident at first, but then she found out that the University of Southern California decrease its acceptance rate, which means an international student like her have a lower chance to get in. It was so hard to convince Graham that studying communication instead of business is a better selection for her. There’s no way Graham will continue to let Kiana make her own education choices if she fails the only chance he gave her.

But today, that fat acceptance letter finally came. The moment she lay her eyes on it, Kiana could felt her heart skipped a beat and her head got lighter. Her name is written boldly and proudly on the paper.

Not long after she got her hand on the acceptance letter, Graham Lee summoned her for a meeting. Alfred, the head of butler who delivered the news, aided Kiana to the room her grandfather chose to hold the meeting.

”It’s the annual meeting for the first-born, Miss Kiana,” Alfred added. She nodded as their enter the main hallway of The Lees Mansion. Kiana never felt this kind of excitement when her grandfather requests a family meeting. Aside from special occasions like Christmas Dinner or weekend cruising in Bahamas, just like all of her cousins, she tried to keep the encounter minimum.

But today is different. She. Got. Into. Her. Dream. Universe.

Kiana bit her bottom lip and refrain herself from screaming out of excitement. She doesn’t remember exactly how many times she glanced at the letter. Kiana sure it’s already more than ten times, but she does it again anyhow. That was when Alfred faltered in his steps. ”Oh, I forgot to tell you something, Miss,” he remarked. They were only a few steps away from the room when Alfred suddenly stops walking. It annoyed Kiana that the man is slowing her down. Doesn’t he notice that telling Graham the acceptance news is an important agenda for her?

”Tell me, Alfred!” she chimed rather impatient.

”Isaiah is coming home.” His lips curled into a thin smile, and as if on cue, Kiana squealed like a little girl.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?!!”

”My apology for—” Alfred couldn't finish his words because the young lady left her to strode the hallway.

Alfred saw Kiana looking so happy. Well, maybe today is about feeling and witnessing all the things one never had before.

Acceptance letter. And Isaiah.

She already arranged numerous plans for how they’re going to spend the weekend. Brunch at Isaiah’s favorite restaurant, horse riding, movie date, and so on. A perfect weekend for the two of them.

Kiana and her favorite man in the family.

It’s unusual for Kiana not to knock before opening a door at The Lees Mansion. Especially when she knows Graham is the man behind the door. When she successfully swings open the heavy wooden door, Kiana called out a name that lit up her every nerve on fire.

”Cassius?!”

ISAIAH: Isaiah arrives on the terrace with a lot of thought in his mind. The idea of his private servant to talk about his participation in volunteering. But, it does not support the central vision of Graham to excel in business. After all, after him being accepted in MIT Sloan. He not sure about what else to brag about in the meeting.

Another idea of his private servant gave is about his current closeness with a friend, Anastasia, which he supposes is another pointless mark to be served. Even though their closeness is worth brag since her family was all known in the United States and academically, she is a top honor in Harvard. But, talking about this might end up raising Graham's expectation about him having a partner anytime soon. So, he wouldn't talk about this at all.

He spends a few minutes moving along the lines before he ends up at the huge mansion that he supposes to call home, but as always, it feels like a throne of judgment. A maid serves him a cup of coffee in a tray as he takes a few minutes to rest after the long exhausting thought. A while later, the sound of Kiana echoes through the room, calling his first name. The sign of weariness that appears a moment later swiped away through her arrival as his eyes glanced immediately toward Kiana and flashed a smile.

"You come? Any good news?"

KIANA: Kiana knows that she looks silly right now, but being under the same roof with Isaiah completely overwhelmed. She couldn’t wipe the stupid grin off her face. Being part of The Lee means you must always be the best amongst your peers. The expectations the elders set for the kids are unbelievably high, and people from outside their family don’t understand the struggle Lee’s heir is going through. No. Sometimes not even her cousin could understand what kind of burden their grandfather put upon the firstborn of the family. But just like any other bad things in life, one could always find the good thing from an unfortunate fate. Isaiah and Kiana bonded through their struggle.

That’s the reason why Isaiah's presence brings so much joy to her.

“Guess what comes to the mailbox today!” she chimed full of glee. Kiana plopped to the sofa next to Isaiah before handing him the heavy, brown envelope. She darted her gaze between Isaiah and the envelope. “I give you a clue. I’m going to Cali.”

“You’ll be so proud of me once you read this,” she declared confidently with her gaze fixed on his... -and their eyes met. And her big hazel eyes stared at him adoringly.

No matter how hard Graham tried to create a competition between his two eldest grandchildren, Isaiah always managed to find a way to let Kiana know that he is her friend rather than her opponent. As far as Kiana could remember, Isaiah had always been someone she looked up to. The way he never showed fear no matter how hard the challenge he had to face as the oldest grandson and hire of The Lee is the fuel that keeps Kiana going. He is her reason never to give up.

That’s Isaiah to her.

ISAIAH: The silences upon his empty chamber suddenly filled with an indescribable feeling. But one thing he was so sure of, it was a fine one. Kiana, as expected, successfully to bring down all the tense expectancy that his grandfather demand among the firstborns for a while.

People don't have to remind him how these forbidden feelings are slowly growing within him. He knew and always knew about this better than anyone.

Just for a moment, let him relish the presence of Kiana, just, for now, Kiana as a whole to him.

Isaiah adjusts his position to move upfront to face Kiana before received the letter. He doesn't have to tear open the letter, easily his finger could take up the letter while putting the paper away but nearby.

"Congratulation! I am pleased to offer you admission to the University of Southern California." He slowly recites everything in the letter. "Damn, that's where you're going? Cali?" He exclaimed. Eyes widen. Hearts open. "Congratulation." Isaiah's hands fondle her hair. Other than being discouraged with his situation by now, he feels so proud.

"God, you will—" Before he finishing the sentences, the arrival of Graham successfully shut him down in a blink of an eye.

Crap.

KIANA: ”Am I interrupting something?”

The younger turned her ahead to the direction of a low baritone voice that interrupted Isaiah. On the contrary to her cousin’s worried expression, the corners of her lips are curled heavenward and her eyes filled with joy. She usually gets nervous at every first-born meeting for Graham always demand an achievement announcement or at least report progress of their current project.

But tonight might be one of the night she’d earn praises from her grandpapa.

“Isaiah..” she softly uttered while she took the brown envelope from his hands. Anyone in the room could tell that she couldn’t wait any longer to tell her grandfather about the acceptance.

“No!” She chimed full of glee, “you didn’t interrupt anything, grandpapa.”

That’s HOW MUCH of a self-centered person she is. Deep down, she knew that Isaiah has a lot going on inside his head, yet she refused to adjust and go for what she wanted. Without a second glance, she strode across the room and sat on the arm of the couch where Graham sit.

He probably had heard about the news from his team that is keeping track of each family member. But Kiana knows better than anyone that she’s a good storyteller and Graham is the biggest fan of her accomplishment tales. He’d love to be reminded about his overachiever granddaughter day and night, over and over again.

Her heart pounds against her rib cage. Excitement went through her veins.

”I hope you’re not bad at a long-distance relationship because I’m going to California.” She declared in a cocky-cute voice.

Letting out a breath, she settled her back on the couch and looked down at her hands. A smile formed on her cherry-colored lips as she admires the ring on her right index finger.

Her mom gave it to her on the day of the entrance exam. She said the crystal would bring good luck to her life. And her mother wasn’t wrong at all.

”They even offered a full-ride scholarship?” She drifted her attention back to Graham. ”Yes. And I’ll be giving the speech at the faculty party as an outstanding freshman.” Just when Graham thought his golden child couldn’t impress him further, Kiana proves him wrong.

”But are you okay with staying at the dorm for one semester?” ”Do you want me to talk to the faculty and arranged the condition?” Oh, how easy her life is.

Her lips were pressed into a thin line for a moment. She was hesitant about sharing a room with a stranger she never met before.

”Well...” she’s unsure about whether she should say the next words or not. ”It’s okay. I’ll manage. It’d be an interesting experience to know how middle-class kids live.” But she said it anyway. Kiana's description of how living in a dorm room is equal to a social experiment elicits a laugh from her grandfather.

”You never cease to bring joy into my life, sweet child.”

He said with a wide smile on his wrinkle face.

ISAIAH: The moment his grandfather presents a wide smile on his wrinkled face, it irritated him, somehow, but he never angry because it is Kiana, the reason why his grandfather made his lips drawn smiles. However, he later regretted being irritated for her achievement because he has nothing to be shown off to his grandfather.

"I believe you didn't sit there without having anything to tell me, right?" He was gazing at Isaiah with those wistful and sharp eyes.

"I have nothing to say, Father." He said. Willful enough to make declarations which his grandfather loath to listen to it. However, it didn't make Graham stop digging into his situation.

"How about university life?"

"Everything went well. I excels in everything."

"That boring."

"I know."

He found the situation preposterous. All his life has been devoted to the family, never lack for a single bit to make them proud. He knew that this wasn't right for asking praises in this family. But maybe a thank you won't hurt. He has been in Kiana's place, but he didn't get the commend still. As if getting into MIT Sloan was easy.

And now, he has nothing to say because everything went perfectly. But, for Graham, perfect doesn't mean enough.

"Then you shouldn't be here." Graham said. A small part of him felt relieved somehow; yes, perhaps he should leave.

KIANA: She once read about what favoritism is.

The term is pretty self-explanatory, but the article said that the correct definition would be "favoring someone not because they're doing a great job but for reasons outside of their achievement." But it doesn't explain the treatment Isaiah received from their grandfather just now.

If anything, the man who's sitting across the table, is an absolute overachiever. Isaiah aced in so many things and got into MIT Sloan without the family's help.

He's more than capable than Graham believes.

Or perhaps, the bias occurs because Graham and Kiana have developed a friendship through their similar interests. Party, spotlight, luxury, they both valued those things which Isaiah has zero interest in.

Amongst her cousins, Kiana is seemingly the only one looking forward to showing up at parties and business gatherings their grandfather forced them to attend.

“It’s in my blood. I got it from you, grandpapa,” that’s what she always said. But that still doesn't justify how Graham treated Isaiah.

The man dedicated his spare time to fly back home, and (supposedly) the least his family can do is not to treat him like shit.

"Grandpapa, I planned to take Isaiah to our new country house and-" Graham cut her off, and she couldn't do anything but stare at Isaiah with a tearful gaze.

"Don't even bother. He doesn't deserve leisure time." He said it so calmly while sitting stoically on the couch. "But grandpapa!" Kiana mustered up her last courage and got off for her seat. "He is visiting us! His family," her voice is shaking when she tried to stress the word 'family.' The fact that they have to beg for decency from their grandfather is far from the concept of family Kiana knows. Does the word 'family' she just said cringed Isaiah the way it did to Kiana?

"Isa deserves to get some rest.” ”I’m taking him to our clubhouse.”

ISAIAH: 'As the future heir of the Lee, you shouldn't let yourself loosen up even for a minute.' That's what's his father always said to him, with a high tone, right at the exact moment he went it right now. The apple doesn't fall far, but he will never get used to it. The indignity after all the hard work to shape himself better than anyone around him. He deserves the praise above all. His tearful eyes turned into a furious stare, and his eyes redden with hands holding a fistful of outrage toward his grandfather as if he was ready to beat his aged face in second.

"You mad? Really? Isaiah?"

His breath getting heavier, heavier.

KIANA: v

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stay--satan · 6 years

Text

What I Want - Dick Grayson x Reader

Alright, since I got these two requests with the same number at the same time, I'll go with Grayson because there's too much Jason in this blog (as if it's a bad thing) AND mixed with another request.

Can I have 20 w/ Dick Grayson? ♡ Can you do the prompt 20 where the reader(fem) is about to get married but Jason comes and interferes the ending up to you #19 I can’t buy you things like him w/ Dick Grayson one shit please 💛 I’m also new to your blog and I’m excited to read some of your work 😃

20. “Please don’t be with someone like her/him. I wouldn’t be able to handle it” 19. I can’t buy you nice things like him.

Fluff and a little heat

"You're what?" "I'm engaged... To Freddie." Your voice came out in a low tone "You don't even have a ring, that's ridiculous Y/N" Dick said a little louder as frustrated he was "Can you not make a scandalous about this?" You frown your eyebrowns berating him "I do have a ring, I just came to talk to you before he makes an announcement." You look back to the living room that was fill with your friends and people you consider as family "I thought... I thought it would be better if I did" "Better for who? You're gonna married with this stupid suit and tie dude?" Dick's voice didn't calm down at all as he gets more red "I love him!" "Don't lie straight to my face. You never even like weddings before" He recalls the one time when the two of you had this conversation. Oh yes, Dick Grayson was your ex boyfriend. It started in the early days of Nightwing and he really needed his own "Alfred" to his missions, so he hired you. A ex intern from Wayne Tech who had discover Bruce's identity before he ever did, you were brilliant. Eventually you became this is huge hacker and lived on your own until he knocked on your window. Of course you two fallen in love. With his flirts during the mission talking to you in his microphone, the Wayne Gala's that he made you go so you could "complete a mission on the ground" and the late nights chat turned into something you couldn't even imagine.

But unfortunaly, two years and half later you were tired of watching him almost die every night and left him with a broken heart. You two reunited not quite longer after that and discover that couldn't live without each other, so you made a deal for not look so miserable: You would continue to kiss, the flirting and have sex but without the whole comprimise stuff. Of course that not that deep down you two were so in love, but it could ruin everything again. After another year doing that, you met Fred. He went to you looking for discover his girlfriend stealing his money, and after the job was done, he offered you a date. You broke up with Dick soon after date, he accepted hoping that would end soon, but there you were, eight months later telling him the news.

And honestly, Dick was right. You never cared about getting married or stuff. You hated everything that could draw attention to you, specially a whole party about you and another person.

"I was thinking about something" you said on top of Dick as he was close to you kissing your neck and your head were brushing through his hair "If it isn't about us then why bother?" you felted him grim on you as you let out a chuckle "The whole Selina and Bruce drama" he let out a groan saying that you cut off the entire mood "I'm serious!" you smiled as held his face "I don't get it, they are literally the cat and mouse. Why on earth this will work? I'm just worried that will end soon and he'll get all.. you know?" she makes a stupid scary face that made Dick smile so hard "Well, they always loved each other. They're willing to put all the selfishness aside and put this in the works" "But do they need a stupid party and a signed paper to do that?" "You don't believe in marriage?" he says closing his face a bit. He wasn't angry, he was just really surprised. All of his exes were obsessed about marriage. God he almost got married himself when he wasn't even old enough to drink. "I just don't get it. It's kinda of pointless to have to prove to other people that you wanna be with that person. Why can't you just... be?" she finishes looking so peaceful. God, he loved that woman and how little you think about other people and how comfortable you expressed your opinions. "Because baby, stubborn heads will always be stubborn heads" he smiles again to her as you cupped his face again "I want to be with you forever." you say looking deep into his beautiful eyes as that was the most deep thing you ever said. He puts the most melt face you ever seen it and he pulls you into a deep kiss and laying you on the bed like a precious crystal.

Now back into the present you were with your back in the wall facing a really mad Richard. "I'm sorry, I don't know what to say" "Just... Don't." he walks away going back to some alone counter and you see Wally running to him. You let out a deep sighed and look to your own feet feeling the sadness overhelm you.

"Excuse me everyone?" Frank stands up as he leans his hands to you so you could join him "I have some exciting news" You look over the room and find your friends faces in curiosity, there were a few friends from his company too. Frank was the son of a very wealthy man from Bruce's competitor's company. He heir his company and was such a good man, you were really proud of him even after finding out how shitty his father was. You definitly feels something with him, something that you can't have with Dick. Safety. Plus your friends seem to like him, he gave almost the entirely equipament for the titans knewing that you worked with them a few times and personally he was really nice to everyone even offering a job to Jaime so he could complete his extra hours on the school and help his family. They also joked about the "Y/N's Rich Boyfriend" saying that she didn't had to handle with someones bullshit "But why pay for your cellphone company when you can just own it" Wally used to say whenever she complains about expensive bills.

You do your best to avoid Dick's eyes and look just to your fiancée, you honestly didn't even hear him saying the words, you just hear everyone's clapping and cheering. Artemis and Wally are the first ones to hug you and give you the congrats, as a little line start to form behind them with people congratulating you. You look to the corner and you see Jason talking to a altered Richard as he pushes Tim out of the way and storms out his way out.

You sit down at the swing from the outside of the manor with a wine in your hand. Thinking about how did you ended up there? "Careful with that ring, girl. You could blind someone" you hear a voice as Tim sits down in the next swing. You let out a soft chuckle "If you're not sure about this you have to tell him" "No.. I can't." "You can't be with someone for the rest of your life because you don't wanna face desisions Y/N" Tim now looked a little more serious "I just.." your voice dies as you look down your feet "He was so happy you know? It was out of nowhere and when I realised there was this" she looks at her hand where the huge ring was "Plus, he treats me like a princess. I don't think I'll find much better, I'm lucky" "Y/N you're unhappy. Sure you may like him, but you love the idea that he pass to you." he says turning back to you with the swing "You can't just expect that this will be enough for 80 years" "And you expect me to do what? Break up with him and run back to a man that couldn't decide what he wanted for his life? A on-going thing until the day he doesn't come back?" Now it was Tim's turn to look back down "He's going to be a mess from now on" he talks in a low tone to her. Taking a deep exhale, you get up from the swing putting your head high "Well, it's not my problem anymore."

For the next two months you try to keep away from the Titans boys as much as you can. Of course with Artemis being your maid of honor maked difficult, seeing Wally picking her up from your house not looking in your eyes anymore was disapointing. You knew it was because of him, you talked to Bruce after a few days and he said that he hasn't spoke to him since the annoucement, that can't be good. It mad you so mad that everyone's seems to be upset with you when he was the poor boy. What they did expect? You lay around forever? Ugh, you shake your head as Frank made his way out of the bathroom into your bed kissing you deeply. But not as Dick Grayson once did.

"That has got be the most breath taking dress I ever seen" Stephanie says behind you as the other girls, Barbara, Cass and Artemis agrees. "I'm feeling a little stuck with him" you say laying your hand on your stomach like it was suffocating you "No, no no no" Cass pulls your head behind your ears looking to you in the mirror "You look so pretty, and everything is gonna be fine" "I can't believe I'm gonna be on a actual fairy tale wedding" Barbara says dreamy behind her and you give her a warm smile.

Not believing that you actually got away with her bachelor party you made your way through the streets in peace. All you did was wait until the girls were on their fifth shot and made her way out without noticing dueing their exciment over the loud music.

The wedding was in the next day and Freddie was in some party of himself with a few friends. That would be your last moments of peace. Of course with the strong shots you had, you weren't in your right mind to walk alone, so you asked for a cab giving him the address and rested your head on the window closing your eyes. The cab called out for your indicating that you had arrived in destiny. You look outside of the window with arching your brow "Are you sure this was the address I gave you?" "I'm not a telepathic kid, this was the one"

"Coming" Richard finally said after the his bell ringed for the fifth time finally giving up his I-hope-they-think-I-died-and-eventually-go-away mood. He has some difficults going his way to the door stepping in a few bottles of whatever he was drinking early that night and putting the tv on mute. "If it is you Jason, I swear to God that I'll learn how to shoot especially for-You?" he looks wide opened to the door not believing in his wildest dreams You couldn't believe that you really didn't walk for a few miles get a new taxi to bring you home, instead there you were at his door wearing this really tight black dress and a trench cloat. You both say hi so low that was almost impossible to hear. You noticed that he grew a beard that it suits him, had lost a few pounds and grew a little of dark circles under eye. But he insisted to answer the door shirtless and you lightly bite your lip over this He notices that you let your hair grow, your eyes had become a little less lifely as you gave him a half smile. Dick recomposes himself holding the door as you held yourself tighly to your coat. He can't help but noticing your damn long legs uncover under this cold Bludhaven weather and the dress that you were wearing didn't help a lot too. You fell a bit from your heels as standing up for too long "Are you drunk?" he says arching his brow over your "I don't know?" You loosely says and you both let a soft laugh between the two of you "You didn't RVSP" he can notice the sadness in your tone "Are you serious?" he stands closer to you, but knowing that a fight would not help right now "No, I didn't" "I wanted you there. I can't do anything without you ya know?" "You seem pretty fine. I've been watching in the news the wedding of the year coming up" "Yeah but..." You sounded a bit more angry and frustrated and start walking in circles in his doorstep complaining "But I don't wanna this!" you hit your fits in the air like a child. Dick cross his arms around his chest as he watch "It's like Y/N it'll be worth it. Y/N you look beautiful. Y/N I wish that my wedding was like this. But nobody cares of what I want" "And what do you want" That was all that took for you to look deep in his eyes and pull him over for a kiss. It's a rough kiss, the type she never had with Frank. Dick let himself blame on the alcohool in the next morning. You pull his hair letting his hands go all over your body under your coat moaning a bit when his warm hands met your cold legs, it was the sign to Dick lead you into inside the house. Slamming the door behind you, he takes your coat in a super speed and pulls your hair aside so he could kiss the neck that he missed so much. You go over his body with your sharpen nails as he left deep breaths under your skin making you closing your eyes in pleasure. As he removes your dress and finally looking at you with your exposed body, you cup his hands in his face the way he loves to and you both smile larger than you did over the last year.

Falling down in the top of Richard's body, you both try to catch your breath as he puts his arms around you kissing your head. Staying like this for a while, you don't know what to say by only hearing his raced heart beat and staring the window you once did a long time ago in a room that it was a few times smaller of the one you were used to now.

"Please don’t be with someone like him. I wouldn’t be able to handle it" Dick's voice came out raspy near your ear as he slightly stroke your hair. You though about this moment for so long that now you don't know what to say. You get off his top and sit down on the bed starring at his naked breathless body. "Dick..." "Please, Y/N hear me out.." he says standing up his torso to get close to you "Do you honestly think that you'll have what we just and always had?" you look down trying not to meet his eyes as he looked deeply to your face "I can't get you nice thinks like he does, but I can give you endless love." "I'm not looking for his money, Grayson" You say serious finally meeting his gaze "I don't wanna live with the feeling that I might not be able to see you when I get home. Or worst, be the first one see you dead somewhere. You say that you wouldn't handle see me with him, but what about me? The endless nights that I spent crying while you were blackout on the floor and I just had to wait? When I had to make excuses for you not being in there because you were to wounded to show up in public?" "Then I'll be better" he says holding the side of your head with sweetness "Goddamnitt I'll stop-" "Don't." knowing what would come next you interrupt him "The whole question here is that I don't wanna make you choose" "But I'll always choose you, Y/N. If I have to I'll burn my uniform right now" he says gripping the other hand on your hip pulling you closer "You say it and I'll. Tell me that you're gonna stay and I will burn the entire armory down" now he met his nose with yours with his eyes shut.

If this had only happen early. You let a tear come down as you remembered what Freddie told you this morning. His entire family coming from England and the excitment in his voice preparing this whole thing. You couldn't do this to him, not right now. Maybe in a few years when he realises that you're not in love and leave you. Maybe, but you couldn't put Dick to wait for this. He kisses your tears away, which made extra heart to open your eyes and touch his face for the last time "I love you Dick Grayson. I always will for the rest of my life." "I'll wait for you" "I don't want you to." you lie knowing that is for the best. You noticed that a few tears had started to falling down from his face. You clean them away with your thumb kissing his lips and his head for the longest time.

The next day you find yourself in front of a huge mirror again while the stylist was making the last details on your dress. You see Artemis coming next to you smiling "Someone left this on your doorstep" she gives to her a wrapped box and the woman in her dress leave them alone. The gift was with a note 'Your Something Blue." She frowns removing carefully the note as she opens the tiny box. It was a stupid blue bird pin. You feel your heart stops for a huge second taking carefully out of box. Artemis is by your side giving an encouraged smile removing the pin from your fingers and carefully placing in your dress on a spot that only you could see it.

You feel your mouth drying a bit as you made your way to the altar. Surrounded by the 200 faces which mostly you've never seen it you find Freddie's gaze on you. You smile noticing that he did what you asked that was no photographers around or cameras. You stand next to him and starts to panicking noticing that you can meet his eyes so close "Are you okay?" he whispers as the priest starts talking. You only nodds trying to focus on the words.

You could felt that the cerimony was taking 3 days to get over. Your feets hurt, it's too cold for a open sky wedding, and the cold metal of that pin over your body was bothering you way more than it should. "So before we made the actual blessing, I need to say: Is there someone here who may be against this event?" You close your eyes ready for his next words as you hear everyone gasps behind you. Freddie turns over frowing his brows and you slowly turns to see.

Richard Grayson, dressed as a homeless boy between that fancy people with flannels and jeans with that huge ass beard, walked in your direction.

You were sure that your eyes had come out of your face. Everything around you was a blur. You had seen this scene several times in movies, thinking how embarrassing that was, now it was happening to you. You were pretty sure that you head Wally's laugh on the background, but it wasn't that important. Making sure you weren't the only one seeing this, you hear Freddie's voice "But what on earth is this?" You try to come up with words turning your head to him but not being able to turn your eyes too. Dick still stood there in silent finally realising what he was doing he puts his hands on his jeans pockets embarrassed. You feel a little grin coming in the corner of your mouth "Y/N, explain!" Freddie sounded again in her eyes. You finally give Freddie's entire attention "I can't do this. I never could" Fred eyes met yours with a certain desperation "Fred I could give you my full I do but I could never give you the life you want and deserves. And I'm sorry that I've waited so long to do this, I'll never forgive myself. But this time I have to get what I want" she smiles empathic to him as she pushs her dress up.

Dick Grayson could honestly die in a horrible way right now that he didn't care. When he sees you running to him he recomposes as he hugs you so tightly you could break. He hears yours and his stupid friends cheering up in the backgroud as he held your hand outside of the garden. You wait until you're in his car to dare to say anything "Why-What just happened?" you say breathless as you had runned a marathon "I can't let anyone think that they'll spend his life with him while I stand" he smiles to her letting the adrenaline run off. He holds your face and kiss you desperatly finally having on his arms and his arms only.

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson #dick grayson imagines #dc comics imagines #nightwing x reader #nightwing #nightwing imagine

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drawingsanddrabbles · 7 years

Text

Joke’s On You

chapter three: Hit List

betaed by @ilovebeingintroverted

links

After Tim had gone shopping for the tools he was missing he saddled up his pants and jacket. Tim then made a list of Gothamites he was going to look up.

1. Catwoman

2. The Penguin

3. Commissioner Gordon

4. Vicki Vale

5. Harley Quinn

These people were intimately connected to Gotham, if he wanted to know anything about what had happened in the last five years since he died they would know. Tim paused as he read the list over. His pencil hovered over paper, itching to write out a name. Tim couldn’t help himself. He had to check in on him.

6. Alfred Pennyworth

Next he dressed in his new uniform. He stared at the domino mask (his only impulse buy) before stuffing it in one of his numerous pockets. Then he placed the mask over his head. He took one last look in the mirror, recognizing his new look. The Red Hood. Tim ripped his latest list out of the notebook and stuffed it into his jacket. Then he glanced at his watch. Nine fifty two PM. Time to go.

When he ran across Gotham he felt wind whip around his uniform. He couldn’t feel it through his rather overgrown hair because of the mask, he missed that. He took out a grappling hook when he got to the end of the part of town he was in and shot it out, it wound around a piece of iron holding up a gargoyle and Tim swung. For the first time in years he swung. God, he had missed that. He landed on the gargoyle and unhooked his grapple before firing it again and then swinging once more. It was almost as good as flying.

When he finally crossed downtown he went straight to the first name on his list. Selina Kyle’s.

Selina Kyle smiled as she pet her black cat. The cat purred and rubbed its head against Selina’s leather glove. Selina used one of her claws to scratch under the cat’s chin. Tim slipped open her window and she jumped backwards, claws out.

“I’m not here to hurt you Selina, I just want to talk.” Tim said as he slipped out of the night air and into her apartment.

“How do you know my name?” Selina’s cat hissed at Tim. Tim glared at it and it licked a paw, deciding that it had said its piece and now wished to ignore him.

“I know your address; why wouldn’t I know your name?”

“How do you know my address, then?”

Tim sighed. “Look, Selina that’s not really importan-“ Selina pounced, and Tim rolled his eyes behind his mask. Tim blocked Selina’s punch and grabbed her wrist. He slammed her front into the closest wall and sighed. “I don’t want to hurt you Selina.”

“Yeah? Doesn’t seem that way to me.” It was the grim smile that slithered onto Selina’s lips that made Tim release her.

“Ew, Selina. Just… ew.”

Selina frowned. “Do I know you?”

Tim barked a laugh. “Well, my voice has changed a little.” Tim slipped the hood off his face. “Recognize me now?”

“No.”

Tim sighed. He didn’t want to have to do this but… Tim stuffed a hand in his pocket and Selina flexed her claws. “Just getting a clue…” Tim told her, but Selina didn’t relax. Tim slipped on the domino mask and grinned. “Remember me now?”

“No… Robin-? But you’re not Rob—you’re…” Tim watched as Selina’s brain figured out what was happening. She laughed. “I can’t believe you’re alive. Batman is going to kill you. You know he went ballistic when you died. Bad day for him. Bad day for all of us.”

“I know. Selina, I need you to help me. Tell me about the new Robin.”

“What about him?”

“Is he… is he good?”

“He’s… different. Playful. Not like you or your older brother. How is ‘Wing by the way?”

“Still too young for you.”

Selina grinned. “Your father figure’s more my type. But the new one he’s raw, he smells like the street. Not high class like you two. He has the accent too. But he’s good.”

“Street?” Tim frowned.

“Yeah.” She must have sensed his confusion because she asked, “are you okay there, ex-Robin?”

“Yeah. Fine. Look, Selina I should go-“

“Does Batman know?”

“What?”

“Batman. Does he know you’re alive?” Selina asked. She removed her mask and began removing her gloves. She was showing Tim that she was letting her guard down. Trying to get him to lower his.

Tim crossed his arms. “No. And you won’t tell him.”

“Why not?” Selina asked, fingers running down her cat’s back.

“He won’t believe you.” Tim came up with.

Selina smiled before kissing the black feline’s head. “That is true. But tell me, if you aren’t going to tell him you’re alive then what are you going to do?”

Tim didn’t respond. Selina walked into her kitchen to get something. “You know,” she called from the room, “I’ve been thinking of getting myself a little protégé.”

Tim raised an eyebrow. “And you’re offering me the job?”

Selina walked back in and cracked open a bottle of water. “Well I don’t see why not. You already have training, I could get you all dolled up in leather, with long diamond tipped claws… A mini-whip. Or maybe you’d like another weapon.” Selina took a sip of the water. She licked her lips. “A staff might look good on you…”

“I’m not a petty thief, Selina.”

“Nothing ‘petty’ about it.” Selina took another swig. “Imagine the reveal! You and Batsy on a rooftop, and a batarang slices your mask and goggles off. His eyes widen as he recognizes you and you say something clever before jumping off the edge and into an endless crowd. When he rushes to the border he can’t find you.”

“You have weird fantasies.”

Selina snapped her fingers. “They could call you Catlad!”

“That’s even worse than Robin.”

“Speaking of which, what’s your new moniker? Unless, of course, you’re going to go by your real name.”

“Nice try, Selina, but why would I tell you that?”

“We’re villains, kid. We share. That’s how the Gotham underworld works, we share, we network.”

Network, huh? “I’m not a villain.”

“Really?” Selina snorted. “Sorry, with the whole faking-your-death thing and the getting-recon-on-the-local-heroes thing, I figured you had switched sides.”

Switched sides. “Does killing the Joker count as switching sides?”

Selina frowned. “What are you talking about, Kid?”

“Never mind.” Tim walked to the window. “See you around Selina.”

“See you around… Not-Robin?”

“Just call me Red Hood.”

Selina raised an eyebrow. “A little on the nose, don’t you think?”

“Says Catwoman.”

“Touché, Hood.”

Tim slipped out onto the fire escape. “The offer still stands, kitten.” Selina called out to him.

“Somehow, I think I’ll manage as Red Hood. Thanks again Selina.” And just like that he was gone. Selina shook her head, Batman taught him well.

The Iceberg Lounge was completely overdone in Tim’s mind. Tim thumbed through an accounts book at Oswald Cobblepot’s desk. The Penguin’s office went with the theme of the club, behind doors the color of ice a lavish black chair sat at an ice colored desk. A TV was hung across from the desk, the only thing on the walls. Tim put his feet on the desk and put down the accounts book, there was nothing interesting in it. No one who he could use. Tim began opening drawers and searched through them for a remote.

The click of a gun was what made Tim look up. “What are you doing in my chair?” Cobblepot asked.

“Looking for the remote.” Tim responded. “Do you have Netflix?”

“I would advise you to stand up very slowly with your hands in the air. What are you doing here?”

“Looking for information. I bet you are too. Want to know how I got in here?” Tim asked with a smirk. The Penguin narrowed his eyes. “You have really bad firewalls, and really lazy guards. I took them both out easily. I told you, now you tell me: who runs Gotham? Who has been in the big leagues for the past five years?”

The Penguin frowned slightly. He lowered his gun. “Smart.” Tim complimented.

“Get out of my chair.” Oswald snapped.

“Tell me what I want to know.”

“Get out of my chair.” Tim stood and Oswald waddled over to the desk. “No one.”

“What?”

“I said no one. No one has been ruling Gotham, not recently.”

“That’s a lie. Someone’s always ruling Gotham City.”

“Who are you?”

“My name is Red Hood. Spread the word. Now, tell me the truth.”

Oswald snorted and sat in his chair. “The Red Hood is already taken, try Dead Hood. Because that’s what you’ll be if you try to work your way into the big leagues, kid.”

“I know Red Hood is already taken. I’m being ironic.”

Oswald frowned. “Whatever you’re planning, don’t do it. You’re good. In fact, if this is an audition-“

“It isn’t.”

“-I’ll hire you. But you aren’t ready.”

“Humor me.”

“I, of course, handle finances for my clients. Catwoman is Gotham’s resident crook, Poison Ivy the resident eco-terrorist, Scarecrow scares people to death, and the Joker… well you know the Joker if you’re taking his name. But for drugs and weapons, Gotham goes to the Black Mask.”

“Thank you.” Tim turned to the ice doors to leave. He then sighed. “Oswald, please put down the gun. Shooting a man in the back is a little rude.”

Tim watched Oswald’s reflection in the ice doors and the Penguin put down the gun. “You sound like the Bat.”

“Don’t let him hear you say that.”

As Tim walked out the doors, winding through the glacier themed halls of the Lounge, he took out his list in his pocket and a pen. He added a name to the paper.

7. Black Mask

He struck off The Penguin’s name and he folded the paper back up, stuffing it into one of his pockets. He glanced at his watch: eleven ten. He wondered if the Commish was still up.

As it turned out, he wasn’t. Tim sat on Commissioner Gordon’s fire escape staring at him in what was probably a stalker-ish way. The Commissioner lay on his bed, alone. His wife had died recently, if Tim remembered correctly. He looked so stressed, even in sleep. He had deep lines on his face and his body seemed tensed; a hand clenched around the corner of the pillow next to his head. Tim felt bad for the man, head of Gotham’s police department yet nothing ever changed crime-wise here. And he was such a good man too. Tim even considered letting him sleep through the night. Going to the next name on the list and letting the poor Commissioner have a moment of rest.

But then Tim remembered what had happened to him, then he remembered what had happened to Steph. His mind invented her reaction. In his mind’s eye he saw the Joker raise his gun, he saw Stephanie’s blue eyes widen behind her mask and then the loud bang! Only this time the Joker’s gun wasn’t a novelty one, this time it was real. And Stephanie’s Kevlar didn’t protect her this time. Tim felt his hands shake again. His stomach churned in his belly and he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Deep calming breaths, that was all he needed. When he felt the nausea pass he opened his eyes. He placed a hand down on the decaying metal rail, tightening it into a fist to stop the quaking. Deep calming breaths.

Here goes nothing.

Tim jimmied open the window and slid into the room as quietly as he could. He looked at the Commissioner, still sleeping soundly. He must have had a really tough day (that was the only type of day Gotham ever had).

“Jim.” Tim whispered, nudging the officer slightly. “Jim...”

The Commissioner jumped up from his sleeping position, gun in hand (did he keep one under his pillow? Good man). Tim raised his hands. “I’m not here to hurt you.” He told the other man softly.

“Who the hell are you and why the hell are you in my house?”

“Don’t want to know how I got in?” Tim asked. Jim Gordon cocked the gun. Ohhhkay, no joking.

“You have five seconds before I shoot you.”

“Jim,”

“One.”

“You don’t want,”

“Two.”

“To do this.”

“Three.”

“I can’t believe you,”

“Four.”

“Don’t recognize me.”

“Five.” Then the Commish paused. “Why would I recognize you?”

Tim shrugged. Dammit, I shouldn’t have said that! Tim was thankful for the mask, which hid his sudden ‘oop’ facial expression. “Because we’ve met before.”

“Did I shoot you before?”

“Not that I remember.”

“Did I count to five already?”

“Please, Jim. There’s no one in all of Gotham who could help me more than you right now.” That was a lie, but what did Jim know.

“So you break into my house?”

“Really? I’m wearing a mask and I’m in Gotham. Are you surprised?”

Jim didn’t answer.

“Jim, please. Put down the gun.”

“I feel safer like this.”

“Fine, but at least hear me out.” The Commissioner hadn’t shot Tim yet so he figured he could talk. “I need to know what happened to Batgirl.”

“Nothing has happened to Batgirl.”

“The old one. And before you tell me to look it up, I have. I need to know what happened out of the report. I need to know what happened to the Bat.”

“Why? So you can take him down?”

“No!” Jim narrowed his eyes as the desperateness in Tim’s voice. “Please, Jim. Tell me what happened.”

“She got shot.”

“There’s more than that Jim, there’s more than that and you know it. I need to know it too.”

Jim frowned. Tim could see the gears turning in his head. Tim watched as Jim’s trigger finger tensed and then he heard footsteps. Slight, but there. There was a gasp, and both the Commissioner and Tim looked at the door. A little redheaded girl stood there, eyes wide as she looked from her father to Tim.

“Daddy? What’s going on?”

“Daddy’s just talking to a friend. Why are you up? It’s past your bedtime.” Jim said, eyes snapping back to Tim.

Tim couldn’t believe how much she’d grown in the five years he was gone. She had to be… what? Seven, now? “I wanted a drink of water.”

“Honey, you just had a drink of water.” Jim argued.

“I need to pee.”

“Fine. Go to the bathroom, Babs, but then straight to sleep.”

“Fine…” Babs mumbled. Before she walked away she glanced at Tim. “Hey Mister Vigilante, you better leave. Mister Batman doesn’t like other heroes in his city. That’s why Superman is never here.”

“Vigilante is a big word, how do you know it?” Tim asked. Jim glared at Tim but did nothing.

“My Daddy taught it to me. Also you should do as he says. He’s very good at shooting people.”

“Babs, go to bed.”

“But I gotta pee.”

Tim couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up. James Gordon sighed. Barbara Gordon smiled at Tim before waving and walking the rest of the way down the hall.

“She’s cute.” Tim complimented.

“If I ever see you near her I will castrate you.” Like you’d even know I was there.

“How do you even know I have balls?”

“Really?” The look on Commissioner Gordon’s face almost made Tim want to laugh again, but he held back.

“Batgirl?” Tim prompted.

“Joker did what he always did, and she got shot. End of story.”

“Jim.”

“She was protecting someone… a child. The Joker was going to kill the girl and she offered herself up in the child’s place. He had Batgirl with her back facing to him, arm around her neck, gun to her back. Three shots in the same spot to the lower spine. Pierced right through the Kevlar.”

“And,” Tim took a breath trying to hide the voice crack. His vision changed automatically, now there were more gunshots, he could see their faces from the front. The Joker’s bloody grin and Steph’s blue eyes… “After?”

“She fell. Batman ran to her. The Joker got away. We never saw her again.”

“Not even you?”

“Not even me.”

“Th-thank you, Jim.”

“You-you said I knew you.” Jim mumbles when Tim backs out of his room, eyes never leaving the armed Commissioner. “Who-?”

“Sorry, Jim. Gotta leave some secrets to myself.” And Tim was gone.

Vicki Vale, Gotham’s finest investigative reporter, was still awake and working. Tim snorted, if this whole killing-the-Joker-thing didn’t work out maybe he could get paid for prying into Bruce’s other nightlife like Vale. Red hair pulled into a messy bun, a steaming cup of coffee on her desk, Vicki Vale was deep in her work. She stood and walked to the other side of the room, chewing on a pencil eraser. The wall she stared at had what looked like a large Murder Board, papers strung together with yarn, markers, post-its. Tim wondered who she was chasing.

Vicki’s lips moved and it took Tim a minute to realize that he was blown. I can see you. Tim watched as she turned towards the floor to ceiling windows and opened one. “Come on in, Batman.”

She thought he was Batman. She turned around again and continued to stare at the Murder Board. Tim swung into the room, as light on his feet as possible. “I actually expected you a little earlier. You know, this Black Mask guy might be my Lex Luth-“

“Black Mask, huh?”

Vicki Vale jumped, turning around. “You’re-you’re not Batman.”

“What gave me away? Was it the non-grumpy exterior?”

“Who-why are you here?” She took a deep breath and straightened her back. Eyes hard, chest puffed out. She wasn’t afraid. She was confident.

“Who? Call me Red Hood, and as to why? I wanted to ask you something…”

Vicki Vale raised a manicured eyebrow. “Shoot.”

Bang. “The Joker, what do you know?”

“About him?” Vale snorted. “Anything you can ask me about, and you ask about the Clown?”

“All I need from you.”

Vale frowned. “Hmm…” She mused. “How about a trade? Tell me why and I’ll tell you what’s he’s been up to.”

“Think of it this way, whatever you tell me will determine the biggest story of the decade.”

“… Will determine what about the biggest story of the decade?”

“Whether or not the story exists. Now spill.”

“I get first dibs on this story.”

“Miss Vale, if this all goes right I won’t be able to tell it to you. But Batman will.”

Vicki Vale narrowed her eyes. “This… do you think this will cause you to die Red Hood?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. But I intend to follow it through. Spill.”

“I don’t know where he is, if that’s what you’re asking. You’ll probably want to go to his girlfriend for that. But I have heard that something big is coming, the Joker doesn’t just break out of his comfy Arkham jail cell for nothing. He has something planned and it’s going to be as big as poisoning the water, as big as shooting Batgirl, as big as killing Robin.” Vale spoke like she was writing. The tones she spoke with were almost lyrical.

“And you have no clue what it is he’s planning?”

“Nah. Not that informed.”

“Well, thank you.” Tim turned to leave.

“Red Hood?” Vale asked before he swung out the window. “Why did you chose the Joker’s old moniker?”

“You’re an investigative reporter. You figure it out.”

Sunrise. Tim’s second in Gotham since his revival. He could get used to this. After a few minutes he shook himself from the awestruck gaze of the morning and began searching for a coffee shop. Villains didn’t vanish when the sun went up.

He looked at the last three names on his list:

5. Harley Quinn

6. Alfred Pennyworth

7. Black Mask

Tim hummed as he shoved a pastry in his mouth. He kept forgetting to eat, that was problematic when organizing an assassination. He should set a reminder or something. Tim hesitated a second before scratching out the last two names and switching them. He could save Alfred for later.

Now… how would someone go about finding Harley Quinn?

“Harley Quinn? Who the hell is Harley Quinn?”

Talia tossed the newspaper at Tim’s feet. Tim stared at the picture under the Gotham Gazette headline; a woman wielded a mallet larger than her over her shoulder. Her masked white face was split into a maniac grin. The costume she wore was split down the middle, red and black. The sections alternated as they went down and red colored diamonds decorated her black shoulder.

“The poor girl was seduced by the Joker.” Talia told him as she stretched, loosening her muscles. “I hope you will not fall into the same trap.”

Tim snorted. “Please, the Joker is the last Gotham villain I would sleep with.”

“Stand.” Talia ordered. Tim tossed the paper and stood. Talia attacked.

Tim paid and decided to start at the bottom. First he set a program to find any mention of Harley Quinn within the last hour, his phone began buzzing like crazy and it took him a moment to scan through them. None mentioned where she was, mainly just memes. Tim stuffed his phone into his pocket and went to the next step.

The first drug dealer he found knew nothing, but he did helpfully point Tim to his superior who in turn (with a little incentive) told Tim that he didn’t know anything about Harley Quinn but hey, Poison Ivy was in town recently and she had been seen around Harley, why didn’t Tim check the Botanical Gardens which had recently closed down?

Tim thanked him and started towards the center of downtown, where the Botanical Gardens were. Tim raised his eyebrows when two masked bandits ran by.

Really?

Tim heard the nearest bank alarm go off and he ducked into an alley and slipped on his helmet, turning in the direction of the bandits. This would be fun. Tim ran them down, sirens beginning to blare in the distance. They didn’t have a getaway driver and they were in the middle of the city, either they were extremely stupid or they had another escape route. Only when Tim followed their dust into a dead-end alley did he realize their escape plan.

And Tim had been sewer-free for six months...

Grudgingly, Tim slipped open the manhole cover in the alley way and climbed down onto the dry path next to the pungent stream of shit water.

“Aw, c’mon! It’s day, the Bat ain’t gonna show!” Tim heard the echo of one of the bandits.

“Dude, it’s the Bat. He’ll show up at the hideout.”

“We’re in the clear, dude!” Tim hedged around the corner to see two unmasked bank robbers. The two of them were dividing up money into small bags they must have stashed here.

“Not quite.”

One of them jumped, dropped his bag and money spilled out. “Shit! I knew we was gonna get caught!”

“Dude, do you see a Batsymbol on him?” The other asked him.

“Robin don’t have a Batsymbol.”

“Yeah, but Robin’s Robin.”

Tim snorted. Couldn’t have said it better myself. “You two sound like a married couple.”

“We are!” The upset one chirped. He waggled an ungloved finger with a ring on it.

The other nudged him. “Dude!”

“Oh, don’t worry.” Tim said, grinning behind his mask. “You haven’t lost any cool points for being married.” They shared a loving look and Tim sighed. “But you’re both going to jail.” Tim took out a pair of handcuffs. “You have five seconds to surrender.” He told the happy couple.

“Yeah, right.” The over-confident one said.

Tim sighed. It didn’t have to be this way. The fight wasn’t much of a fight, but more of a they-tried-to-attack-him-with-a-bat-and-Tim-took-it-away-and-bopped-them-on-the-head-until-they-submitted-to-being-cuffed. Tim refilled the bank bags with money and grabbed the chain on the handcuffs. The married couple grumbled.

“I told ya we’d get caught.”

“I was trying to be romantic, okay? Plus, he ain’t a Bat. So you were wrong.”

“Really? Calling me wrong? That really the best idea right now?”

Ah, young love.

Tim dragged them out to the first police precinct he saw and handed them off to the first uniform he saw. Then he handed the rookie’s partner the money. “The bank robbers from about thirty minutes ago.”

Both rookies seemed a little speechless so Tim left them to their duties. After checking for a tail for a couple blocks he took off his helmet and found himself a street away from the Botanical Gardens. Cool.

Tim scaled the fence, and dropped into gated gardens. Tim slipped his mask back on now that he was out of the public’s eye. He looked around, he’d been here once with Bruce and they’d spent the entire day learning about plants. In Bruce’s defense it was technically Robin training, the more that Tim learned about plants the safer it was for him to fight Ivy. It made sense that she would set up camp here, but Tim couldn’t help but see the cliché-ness of it.

“Yooo hooo. Ivy? Anyone home?” Tim called. He walked through the rows of plants. Here were a bunch of lilies, water and non, some roses, some different type of palms…

Something wrapped around Tim’s leg. Tim tugged on the vine gently. This climber had no fruit or flowers on it, but it did have hand-size green leaves. Tim prayed it wasn’t poisonous and took out a knife from his jacket. He moved towards the vine and the vine shrunk back, as if afraid of the knife. Huh.

“Listen,” Tim told the plant. “I don’t want to hurt you. But if you don’t let go of me, I won’t have a choice.”

The plant stayed there for a second, as if thinking, before retreating. Tim thanked the plant. Ivy had created sentient flora, that was… spectacular! Tim wondered how she did it, when she did it.

“Who are you?” He heard someone purr. And it wasn’t Selina, fancy that.

“Name’s Hood. Red Hood. Pamala, I was wondering if I could ask you some questions.”

“Pamala…”

“Isley? You know, like your name?”

“I know my name, Hood.”

“Can I ask you some questions?” Tim repeated, turning around.

The redheaded eco-terrorist pet one of her plants. “Okay.”

“Harley Quinn. Where is she?”

“Why?”

“I need to ask her something.”

Ivy frowned. “She doesn’t need another man in her life. The last one wasn’t so kind and she still isn’t over him.”

“Oh, I know. That’s why I need her, Isley. I want her to tell me where the Joker is.”

“Why? So you can weird him out with hero-worship? It’s not his style, you know.”

“I thought I was being cryptic, but apparently not well enough.” Tim rolled his eyes behind his mask. “I want to kill the Joker, Ivy. So tell me where the only person who can lead me to him in the world is.”

Ivy chewed her berry-red lips. “You want to kill the Joker?” She asked.

Tim didn’t respond. He just held her gaze.

Those rose-colored lips curled into a grin and seemed only a little too insane for Tim’s taste. “I haven’t heard from her in a while, but I can tell you where she probably is. She has an apartment from before the Joker. It’s officially abandoned but every now and then she goes back there. 19th and 92nd. Number twenty-two, apartment one.”

“Thank you, Pamala.”

“Hey Hood? Kill him for her. Kill him for me too, but mainly, kill him for her.”

“Isley, I’m killing him for everyone.”

Harley’s apartment was small. Tim hesitantly knocked on the door. The door swung open and a blonde girl in pigtails with a white tank top that professed PENNYWISE IN THE STREETS, HARLEIQUIN IN THE SHEETS poked her head out.

“Harley Quinn, I presume?”

She popped her bubble gum. “That’s Doc-tah Harley Quinn to ya. Who are ya, anywho?” She popped her gum again.

“Sorry.” Right, she used to be a psychiatrist at Arkham Asylum before her spiral into mass murder-hood. “Doctor. Can I ask you a question?”

The blonde hummed. “Sure. Is it medical? Want me to look at a wart? ‘Cuz y’know y’have a big red one on your face.” She pointed to Tim’s helmet and Tim crossed his arms over his chest.

“I’m looking for the Joker. Do you know where he is?”

Harley shook her head. “Uh-uh. I ain’t with him anymore. We’re broken up for good this time.”

“This time?”

“Yeah. Finally got sick of it, y’know. A gal can only take so much.”

“So you don’t know where he is?”

“Nah.”

“Do you know what he’s planning?”

“Uh-uh.”

“So you’re no help at all.”

Harley popped her gum. “Uh-huh.”

“Well, thanks anyway.”

“Hey! How’d ya find me?”

“Poison Ivy. You know, you should really give her a call. She cares about you a lot.”

Harley smiled, leaning against the doorframe. “Yeah. She does. It’s nice, ain’t it? Havin’ someone care.”

Yeah. It probably is.

Tim stared at his list. Five down, two to go. There were two ways to get to every crimelord: get their attention, or do business with them. Doing business with them was actually much harder to manufacture than getting their attention, doing business had to deal with things like money and relied heavily on how much weight your name carried. Tim’s moniker carried no weight yet, only about seven people knew that the Red Hood had been revived.

So getting the Black Mask’s attention it was. Tim heard his stomach growl and he walked into a café to eat and began planning. It took Tim a half hour to find his first Black Mask dealer. It took Tim another hour to find one of Black Mask’s lieutenants. They were all in the hospital by five pm, each with varying degrees of broken bones. Attached to the last one (a dickwad who Tim had found organizing new locations to start selling whatever he was trying to hook the local kids on) was a note addressed to the Black Mask.

9 PM

Crime Alley

When Tim arrived at eight forty five to scope out the alley he was pleasantly surprised to see armed guards strolling the block. So Black Mask wasn’t stupid, well Tim couldn’t win all of his battles. Tim waited silently on the rooftop he was on for another fifteen minutes, a black stretch limousine pulled up at the head of the street and Tim rolled his eyes behind his mask. The man himself stepped out of the car, bodyguards on all four sides. To the right of him stood a man with a clipboard, probably armed to the gills.

Black Mask quickly surveyed the area before crossing his arms over his chest. “You called?” He asked.

Tim swung down from roof the building he stood on, and sighed as every goon in sight pointed a gun at him. “Really?”

No one spoke.

“I feel much safer talking without lethal weapons pointing at my head.”

“I feel much safer talking with lethal weapons pointing at your head.”

Fine. “So it’s going to be that way, huh?”

“Who are you?”

“Red Hood.”

Black Mask seemed disinterested.

“It took me less than half a day to incapacitate your narcotics lieutenants.” Tim added.

“What do you want?”

“Information. What do you know about the Joker?”

“Nothing. I’m new to town.”

“Five years new? I don’t want old stuff. I want now. Where is he? What’s he planning?”

“I told you, I don’t know. And even if I did, why would I tell you?”

“Wow. You are new to town, Mask. Didn’t you know that Gotham villains network?”

Tim was sure that Black Mask was giving him a particularly threatening glare, but he looked kind of idiotic with a Halloween mask on. Then again, this was Gotham.

“I don’t know.” Black Mask repeated, his voice stony.

“Fine. I also came here to warn you, I’ll be operating in Gotham and I will be operating in your turf. If you or any of your men get in my way, I will kill them without a second thought. I won’t be here for long. But I will be here for a while.”

“Why the forewarning, Hood?”

“I’m nice like that.” Black Mask didn’t seem impressed. “That’s it.” Tim said when no one spoke. “You can go home now.”

“Or I could kill you.”

“I took out a good amount of your organization in half a day. Imagine what I could do to targets that I didn’t have to track down and a surplus of guns.”

“But you don’t have the guns.” One of the goons pointed out in a very hostile way.

Tim snorted. “Yet.”

Black Mask nodded, slowly. He held up a hand, and turned to the man to his right with the clipboard. “Let’s go, Mr. Li.”

The man beside Black Mask nodded and nudged his head sharply in the direction of the car, telling the goons to follow.

Huh. Well that was easier than expected.

Tim checked his list over again even though it was unnecessary. He knew who the next and final person on the list was.

He just wasn’t able to admit to himself that he was terrified to look in on him.

Tim found himself at the Manor in what seemed like a time ellipse, he wasn’t quite sure how he’d gotten there, but he knew he had done it. He stood outside the gate awkwardly before he left, he couldn’t do it. Not now. Not yet.

Later.

On his way back to the hotel he was staying at he crossed off the final name.

Tim stared at the bed. He didn’t want to sleep (he never did), after all, he’d slept while he was dead. So he did what he always did when he wanted to ignore a bodily need (even before his death), he opened his computer and began typing.

By the time the sun had come up, Tim had done what had taken years of deductive work the first time around in just the few hours between when he got home and sunrise. Then again, this was his second time through, and he was a better detective now than ever.

He only discovered one name, but that was all he needed. He wasn’t interested in the girl anyway. The name burned in his mind, his mouth itched to say it. To spread the word, because Tim Drake, once again, figured out the identity of the Boy Wonder: Robin. Only this time, it wasn’t Damian Wayne.

Tim allowed himself the smallest of victories.

“Jason Todd.”

#diana writes #diana writes dc #diana writes batman #joke's on you #robin!reversal

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