#but yeah uh Damian goes through it

[starry-bi-sky]

part five of "clone danny"

Danny returns home later that night with a dislocated shoulder from Skulker and his fair share of scrapes and bruises after facing off with a handful of ectoplasmic animal shades. (All of them stuffed inside his thermos with Skulker that he'll toss in the Zone tomorrow after school.)

He shoves his mask back into his pocket, and hides his bat in the bushes at the side of his house under his window, then rounds back around the front to go through the door.

...Mainly because if Bruce Wayne was still awake, it'd be suspicious if Danny made it home without ever using the front door. He sneaks back in, and slooowly starts closing the door.

"You're back late." Says a surly, young voice that startles Danny into slamming the door instead.

"Fucking--!" He cuts himself and breathes in slowly, trying to slow his elevated heart rate before looking over his shoulder to see who the hell scared him.

Glaring at him like an upset parent would, with eyes cutting like sea glass, is Wayne the Sequel... or perhaps he was the seventh sequel. Danny is silent for a moment. "...You're up early." He says, maybe a bit petulant. "Does your dad know you're up this late?"

"Father permitted me to stay up and wait for your return, actually." Damian sniffs, and if anyone could make 'scowling' into a vocal tone, Danny would have thought it'd be Sam. But Damian beat her to it.

Danny turns around slowly to face him, arms crossing. "Yeah, uh-huh." He nods slowly, "Like I'm gonna believe that. Do you normally sit in a random stranger's kitchen and interrogate them when they get home?" He tilts his head for good measure.

"No." Damian says. (He is, in fact, lying.) His eyes narrow at Danny as if he had committed a terrible crime by being in his presence. He looks down to Danny's hands. "Father said you left with a bat. Where is it?"

"I lost it." Danny replies, biting the inside of his lip to prevent himself from smiling.

"You... lost it?"

"Yup." He says blandly. "Whoops."

-------

Danny goes up to his room immediately after that and collapses on his mattress to pass out for the next three hours until his alarm goes off.

Much to Danny's luck, Bruce and his son are literally only there for a few days, and he spends as much time during it to avoid them like a plague (while also dealing with his dislocated shoulder, which should reliably heal in half the time thanks to his ectocontamination). Damian does whatever during the day since he doesn't go to Casper High.

Something to note as we get out of the 'fic'-y part of this post -- Daniel J. Fenton was, largely, the sexual awakening to many people in his grade in Casper High School, including many A-Listers. However he is still "Daniel Fenton" so many of his classmates will take that fact to their grave. And to their personal friend groups.

Does this have any impact going forward? Not really so far, no.

Dodging a Wayne-sized bullet doesn't mean that Danny can dodge the Wes-sized bullet, and finds himself nearly nose-to-nose with an irate Wes Weston who demands to know where he was last nice.

Of which Danny, not needing to drop his smartass comments in front of the guy who already knows his ID, responds by calling him a jealous ex and sidestepping him completely. following up with if Wes isn't careful, then Danny might just think that Wes has a crush on him

(Wes does, in fact, have a crush on Daniel J. Fenton. He will take this secret to his grave.)

Ellie shows up in his kitchen, sitting on the table with her legs crossed while chatting amiably with Bruce Wayne a few days later when Danny returns from school. When Danny asks how she got inside (the door is typically locked), Ellie smiles toothily and fangily, and happily tells him that she came in through the window. And that he needs to tell his parents to invest in locks. She has long hair the same length as him. It's like looking into a mirror, one he is welcome to see into.

It is endearingly Ellie-like to know that she all but broke into his house, and seeing his sister-clone-twin relieves some of his tension. Only a little though when Bruce Wayne was still in his house.

Normally he sits and talks for hours with Ellie. But instead he takes it to the stairs, telling Ellie that he'll be in his room when she's done talking to Mister Wayne. He is a stubborn ass who doesn't even bother to ask where Wayne the Sevquel is.

(He runs into Wayne a one or two more times the following nights. Wayne asks him where his bat is on the second night, his son says he lost it. Danny agrees with him, and Wayne asks with a touch of concern what he'll do if he comes across a ghost.)

(Danny shrugs and says he hasn't before. And comes back home with a bruise the size of a large cat on his hip and a couple more along his torso and legs. his knees hurt from rough jumps with poor landings. Damian is waiting when he gets home. They exchange a few barbs and Danny hightails it up to his room.)

(Danny's face is obscured by the lack of lights and the shadows in the corner. Its the only reason he feels even a modicum of comfort in exchanging a few words with Wayne.)

(Ellie is waiting outside for him the day she meets Wayne, and asks him if Wayne knows. Danny says he wouldn't be avoiding him if he did. Wayne probably wouldn't be as nice as he was now if he knew.)

("You don't know he won't be nice after finding out." Ellie points out while he's digging his bat out from the neighbor's bushes this time.)

("He's not me, Ell." He says, frowning. "We don't know that.")

(Ellie sighs sadly, and Danny feels a tinge of guilt. "You can tell him if you want," he offers, "you don't have to hold back on my behalf.")

("I want to tell him with you, though. C'mon, we're twins.")

(That night Danny avoids breaking his other arm after a run in with a large ecto-serpent. Ellie nearly rips out its tongue for it. She's more ghost-like than he is. Possessive and violent and very, very passionate. As if he wouldn't do the same if pressed.)

(Ellie gives Danny a piggyback ride home, the wind filtering through the grills of his mask and force-feeding him the taste of freedom. Damian is there while they sneak back in, stifling their laughter under the meat of their palms.)

(Danny may or may not have reached out and ruffled his hair in his joviality when he passed him by. Grinning painfully when Damian bats at his hand like a disgruntled kitten. His hair feels like feathers and the sensation sinks itself deep into Danny's star-in-the-sky sized core-obsession like a suggestion.)

(He might regret it in the morning. It will fade in time after the Waynes leave.)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 4.5 (Dani interlude) Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 7.5 (Dan Interlude) Part 8

Taglist: @thought-u-said-dragon-queen @gin2212 @youracearocroatneighbour

#danny phantom #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #danny fenton is a clone #danny phantom au #dpxdc #dp crossover #no funny tags rn folx #masterpost when #danny fenton is not the ghost king #danny fenton #ellie having the scary dog privileges is top tier choice on my part personally

[quindread]

THE COTTAGECORE MARI AU PROMPT THAT NOBODY ASKED FOR

Pairing: Daminette (edit: they’re like 19/20 in this, post high-school)

Rating: It has mature themes, you have been warned. But it’s pretty tame at the same time. Violence + Sexual Themes

________________

Mari is diagnosed with PTSD and anxiety disorder after she quite literally removed her beloved city’s supervillain (and her dear partner’s parent) from the plane of existence. Like she removes the suffering from the minds of all of Paris and has Gabriel written off in a car accident a year after his wife’s disappearance. Only her Court (Adrien, Kagami, Zoe, Alix, Max) and the Order remembers. Mari and Adrien decide not to pursue a relationship. They’re both healing and are decidedly better off friends - siblings in everything but blood.

Lila, who was not punished due to her not really being a miraculous holder and upsetting the balance, continues to slander Mari. Her class isn’t hostile but has no desire to interact with the “new and mean Marinette” Lila was painting her to be. It’s still a huge betrayal given the fact that Mari was supportive and very generous to these people.

So here’s how her new housing arrangement works: have you ever wondered how Gina can afford to travel around the world without a job? Yeah, I think she came from money. Like, old money - real estate old money to be precise. Passive income and such. Hearing about her Fairy’s situation, she offers an unused property at the countryside of Metropolis.

Marinette’s therapist and parents approve of her vacationing there for the summer when they realize that her stressors and triggers where all environmental. So off our girl goes!

Note: She does not have the mother box with her anymore, just Tikki, Plagg, and Kaalki. (She does have unrestricted access to it as the Grand Guardian though - she trains with the Order once a week in Tibet until she doesn’t)

Mari is aware of the Supers and was relieved that the Kwamis don’t show up in x-ray visions and with the fear of them eavesdropping she learns FSL to communicate with them.

The townhouse and the verdure around the property inspires Mari to start a garden. The quiet oddly soothes her and when she feels lonely she goes into town or the nearby farmer’s market where she charms the locals. She meets the Kents - they love her! Martha enjoys baking with her. Lois uncovers her identity as Jagged and Clara Nightingale’s exclusive (and reclusive) designer - they bond over fashion trends and the gossip surrounding the industry. Clark and Jon were another story.

She figures them out having sensed the same soul in Superman and Superboy in this father-and-son duo. They x-ray her as a precaution and finds the mysterious cracks and evidence of past injuries that should have killed her. There’s a very anti-climatic reveal that Martha and Lois are not privy to with respect to Marinette’s wishes.

At least one Kent would be in her home during the day. The Kwamis are free to roam around when it was Clark and/or Jon visiting. She ends up bonding with Jon who also grew up too fast (metaphorically and literally).

She ends up extending her stay in Metropolis indefinitely. Her parents also decided to open a branch of their patisserie there which Mari managed. They visit her as often as they could.

Mari was dismayed to find that no, Metropolis had no schools with both a fashion and business degree - that’s how she ends up in Gotham University.

Jon tells Mari about a Damian - a friend of his.

J: He’s…. uh… he has a big heart.

M: …

J: He’s a bit of an asshole(?)

M: Ah.

Mari meets Damian who reminds her of Kagami - antisocial and proper. They share a few business classes and are both members of the art club.

Mari is still this ball of anxiousness and has only allowed Mia “Maps” Mizoguchi and Katherine Karlo into her life, the former she learned was close to Damian - she didn’t mind when she and the girls met up with Damian, he was quiet, honest, and minded his own business. Through their hangouts Damian finds out about the friendship between Jon and Mari.

He’s hesitant to befriend her at first due to the conflicting rumors about her: due to her timid personality she had a split reputation. One side called her sweet, shy, and kind. While the other calling her arrogant, high-maintenance, and rude. He soon finds out that the latter half were spread by cliques who’s offer of friendship she declined and men she rejected. He was glad that he relented to Maps’ insistent invitations - she was a decent person to hang out with and it didn’t hurt that she was pleasing to the eye. (She also enjoyed sharing her vegetarian salads with him - he starts appreciating it more when he learns that she picks the vegetables straight from the garden she grows.)

As her luck would have it, a robbery unfolds at one of their favorite coffee spots. Mari and Damian - who were both pretending to be civ - try to find a way to protect their friends. The robbers recognizes Damian as a Wayne and takes him and another GU(a school for rich and affluent people’s children) kid - Marinette - who had stood in front of her friends.

They’re gagged, blindfolded, and carted off to who knows where. Damian discreetly activates a distress signal and the bats spur into action. Mari, aware that she was sturdier than Damian, draws the men’s attention to her (she purposely pisses them off and gets beaten up when they start to pester Damian).

M: [removes her gag somehow] Really? A ski mask? And in black? How boring can you get?

*Damian shaking his head furiously in the background*

Kidnapper(KN): Shut up, girlie!

M: You know I always wondered how Kidnappers could have a secret a warehouse as a hideout. It’s not like you can afford the rent—

KN: Are you trying to get yourself killed?

M: You’re backed up by some politician aren’t you?

KN: H-How the fuck did this bitch know?

M: There’s literally a stack of campaign papers behind you.

KN: Wha—

M: That’s some shit graphic design by the way. I’ve seen grade schoolers that can do better.

KN: [points a gun at her] Shut up or I’ll blow your brains out.

M: You wouldn’t.

KN: The fuck do you know—

M: You need me alive to get ransom from my parents.

KN: …Nobody said you had to be in one piece though.

M: Touché—[get slapped hard]

*Damian basically starts convulsing in the background*

M: …Damn. You punch like a cunt—[And the kidnappers basically start to rough her up]

The bats arrive in five minutes and it’s Red Hood that finds them first. He sees these mf’s beating up a woman and goes ballistic(pun intended). Red Robin and Spoiler has to forcibly restrain him when he starts to use his fist instead of his guns.

M: [bleeding and bruised] And that’s how you deck someone, you amateurs.

D: [who was released by Black Bat is confused, mad at himself, and in awe] You blithering idiot! Why the fuck would you aggravate our captors like that?

M: [delirious] It was either you or me Damian. Can’t have your pretty face damaged now, can we?

D: [Is floored and very concerned] And what of yours?

M: … dun worry—my assets are…elsewhere… [passes out from the pain]

D: …

Later, his family would tease him about the flirting when he isn’t all sensitive about the incident.

Winter break comes, most of the Batfam visits the Kents(they have a penthouse/some ridiculous property in Metropolis) as a tradition. The Kents went to visit Gotham and stayed at the manor last year.

(Batfam who went: Bruce, Dick, Jason, Steph, Cass, and Damian)

They visit Mari too. Dick and Steph are absolutely thrilled about her cottagecore lifestyle. So much so that they match her aesthetic and begin helping out in the garden - they send pictures to Alfred who request they bring back fresh produce.

Jon and Jason plot to get Damian and Mari together. Unbeknownst to them that Damian was already resolute on courting Mari like the decorous man that he was - he didn’t know what he was doing but Mari’s flush when he initiates flirting tells him he’s doing okay.

Because of his childhood, Damian was never the type to be touchy but imagine his shock when he finds out that one of his more prominent love languages was physical touch. He realizes he’s touch-starved almost immediately when Mari starts giving him small touches like a hand against his bicep, she had a fondness for touching his hair which never failed to deliver a shiver down his spine, and hugs from her are comforting - she felt like home.

Meanwhile Mari does not have any idea how she survived the early stages of Damian’s advances. He was blunt and did not pull his words with insults but it apparently translated to him being verbally open with his affections.

M: I always wanted to be the Knitting Fairy while growing up.

D: Does it not please you that you became a garden fairy instead?

M: Huh, that doesn’t sound so bad.

D: Well, you certainly look the part.

M: [turns into the same shade as the poppy beside her]

And then when the tension between them became more prominent he wasn’t shy with dropping innuendos too.

M: [open’s the door for Damian, haggard from lifting sacks of garden soil] Oh, I didn’t know you were coming so early. I’m a bit of a mess. Sorry.

D: [Tilts his head] You say that as if I wouldn’t appreciate you sweaty and tousled after a rigorous activity.

M: [self-combusts]

And when the touching began?

M: Damian, what color do you think looks better with this shade of blue?

D: [places a hand on her side while looking over her shoulder] I think the a more neutral cream would do.

M: [stops functioning]

Their first kiss?

Pulled straight out of a book that Marinette only read in the privacy of her bedroom.

They’re teasing each other, it evolves to a game of cat and mouse with Damian skillfully evading her. She corners him by turning on some of her sprinkles. He gets wet, growls in the way he would in Mari’s dreams, and pulls of his shirt. She’s too distracted by the hard planes of his stomach to notice him prowling towards her like a beast moving to claim his prey. He picks her off the ground with ease - he’s a foot taller than her - and takes her to the sprinklers.

(I’m going to write this part out properly, maybe to inspire myself or a potential adopter of this prompt)

“Nononono!” Marinette shrieks as the first round of water splashes her. She writhes but Damian had her arms held down her sides.

“All is fair in love and war, Ya Amar.” She ignores the endearment in favor of closing her eyes as the sprinkles rotate in their direction again. But she knows what it means. Ya Amar. My moon. His moon. The water had nothing on the chill that ran down her spine

The water stars seeping into her intimates and she’s soberly aware that the light fabric of her dress would betray her. It doesn’t take long for Damian to discover that fact, he releases a strangle sound. She opens her eyes, he snaps his eyes from where he was clearly looking at her chest. He scrambles to drop her.

“Shit— I’m sorry. This was not my intention—“ he starts but she’s faster. Her now free arms grasps his shoulders and without a second thought, she drops her lips to meet his. Damian inhales sharply and he tilts his head, temporarily breaking the kiss before raising her higher and pulling her by the back of neck - he kisses her with hunger and passion that has Marinette melting further against his chest.

She wraps her legs around his back and he moves to tightly grasp both the back of her thighs. She would worry about bruises later when she didn’t have Damian’s tongue caressing her own. He drops them to the ground and Marinette does not release her hold over his waist. She whines against his lips when she feels the consequences of their activity.

His hands start wandering as he greedily collects and files the sounds that leaves her lips. He begins to trail kisses down her neck to the neckline of her dress that now clung to her body like a second skin giving him his first peek at the maddening shape of her body. And just when he trails a finger against the underside of her breast a loud noise pulls them apart.

Jason finds them and the sight in Mari’s garden has him dropping the shovel he was asked to bring over.

J: Fuck! No, don’t stop! Hell—I’ll leave—I didn’t see shit!

D: [moving to cover Marinette who covered her face in embarrassment] Fuck off, Todd!

J: I’m sorry! [slams the door shot]

D: Tt.

J: [shouts from inside the house] Use protection!

D: Todd!

They started officially dating that day and Jason had no reservations in sharing that he definitely cockblocked his little brother much to Mari and Damian’s horror.

Both keeps the PDA to minimum in school but it was very clear how amorous they where in “private”. There is a table in the art hall that Mari can’t quite look at without blushing to her roots.

She finds out he’s Robin after her first encounter with his alter-ego. He confesses his past when she confronts him. There’s fear of abandonment in his eyes when he gazes at her after his spiel but she kisses his worries and doubts away. She even goes to show her appreciation for his years of service to Gotham.

Her reveal happens when she unceremoniously drops a vial in Jason’s hand claiming that it would remedy the effects of the Lazarus pits with continuous use - it was completed after a year in the making.

Cardinal joins the Batfam occasionally as part of Batman’s contingency plans. They respect her choice as a retired super-soldier and try to keep her out of the business which she appreciates. She is officially initiated as a member of Justice League Dark as an informant/magic specialist and a wildcard.

Years later, she legally inherits the property from Gina when she and Damian get engaged. Damian moves in with her and she lives her cottage life all while being a reclusive designer that comes out once in a while for fashion week.

FIN

AN:

Maybe there’s a Lila take down somewhere but I don’t have the energy to write her at all. We all know its Damian and Tim that makes sure she never sets a foot in high society ever again.

Ig add some details about learning to healthily cope with her anxiety disorder under the guidance and love of her found family? (I have a similar illness but me and my therapist are still figuring it out so I have little idea how to write this) Her PTSD does not need further discussion (miss ma’am had to kill someone) but her anxiety disorder stems from the fact the she’s a person who’s in charge of world-ending powers - everyone and even yourself can become untrustworthy. She starts to get nervous from misreading body languages and everyone is suddenly out to get her.

#mlb x dc #i wrote this instead of studying #daminette #marinette dupain cheng #bamf marinette #maribat

[justedledamianfan]

Fic idea where justice league is hiring new heroes and they ended up interning the supersons. The supersons disbanded and these two we're focusing on their own gig while catching up from time to time. I think they're like 18 21 here or 16 19

They ran through a few heroes but the one they liked the most was superboy jonathan kent 

They also ran down through a few heroes but they commented on damian in particular. They feel like damian is competent but they felt like he's a bit too cocky and just uncooperative in general from the last time they met him. (Basically no social skills but peak in everything else 💀💀, just like father frfr 💀💀) 

But supes went like, "oh its fine if superboy is there" And batman supports him with a hn and wonder woman trusts both of their judgement. Flash is also likes the idea + thinks it'd be entertaining. Green lantern, green arrow and aquaman is a bit sceptical. Martian is quite neutral but he does like jon kent. (Gen idk what is the current justice league members in the comics you do you) 

In the end they went through with it anyways. 

The next day Damian appeared first, he had same batman glare look and ominous in general but he seems a lot more approachable and a bit bit bit more "friendly" than he was before. They made small talk and that. 

And then jon appeared.

They both didn't know they were interns for the justice league so it was unexpected for the both of them. 

Jon being the person he is just zooms towards damian and hugs him going like "I didn't know you'd be here" Cheerfully.

And damian dumbfounded going like "Why is this buffoon here!", he tried to struggle out of his hold but it was futile. 

The majority of the Justice league finds this interaction quite intertaining. 

Scenes:

- For a few days they watched their duo and they were pretty amused and likes how they work well together (they do know they were a team prior but they also knew they disbanded years ago so it's quite surprising when they think about it, one joked they're probably really good friends) 

- They find their young adult/teenage antics and banters quite amusing, kinda brings life into the team (esp with their fathers) 

- The JL finds it surprising that Damian shuts up when Jon retorts him, esp when Damian was interrupting a member of the justice or when Damian wasn't nice. (the league went ooh so this is why supes says its okay if there is superboy, Dami is like an angy kitten) and another time when Jon is around Damian they noted that Jon looks like a dog following his owner.

- where the league listens to both of their earcoms (they were trying to figure out why they worked so well together) and its just them bantering with each other throughout the entire fight. 😭 (flash jokingly said opposite attracts, plus points if they ended the fight with "wanna order some chinese takeouts?" "Yeah sure")

- Stupid scene where Damian gives a very elaborate reasoning and jon going just Nu Uh and Damian rages. 🤣🤣

- when they reveal infos about each other to the JL through casual talk like damian being a vegetarian, liking animals and liking mangas (damian beats jon up for revealing the last one /j) When Damian reveals info about jon, its like a info bomb that is dropped out of nowhere (when on a mission etc.) 

- When Batman and Superman debates and the JL goes huh this is so familiar, looks at the supersons duo, oh so they get everything from them no wonder.

#damian wayne #jon kent #super sons #jondami

[piedpiperart]

Phantom of Gotham 9

Chapter 8

Jason wasn’t worried. He wasn’t. He was just coming by to drop off some case files and say hi to Alfred. It was just a coincidence that he would check on Danny when he got there. It just so happens that he was also here to drop off some of Danny’s stuff from the Pizzeria. Jason was not getting attached.

Danny had been through a lot the past few days, what with being homeless and dealing with winter only to be snatched by the big bad Red Hood and dropped off at a literal mansion. As a street kid himself, Jason knew the change could be a bit overwhelming and he didn’t want any of his brothers making anything worse. Tim and Damian were not the most helpful, and neither had been on the streets like Danny and Jason. So maybe he was worried and a bit attached to the snarky teen, but he definitely wasn’t staying at the manor longer than he had to. 

Climbing the stairs with a duffel bag of the kids' stuff, he made a beeline for the kitchen to hopefully sneak in some of Alfred’s breakfast platter. Imagine his surprise when he heard voices coming from the kitchen so early in the morning. 

Jason turned the corner to find the usual arrangement of breakfast foods on the counter, but with the demon child sitting petulantly by the counter with Danny on the opposite side, holding a spatula out to him menacingly. 

“It’s supposed to be a giraffe!” Danny exclaimed, exasperated. Jason could see he was in some of Tim's clothes, but more baffling was that he was… making pancakes… in Alfred’s kitchen. 

“This looks nothing like a giraffe, Folson,”Damian scowled at his plate. “You should stop making those and eat before it goes cold.”

“You just don’t appreciate art,”Danny sniffed playfully, turning back to the stove. 

Damian gaped indignantly, about to retort when Jason entered the room. “What’s all this about giraffes?” Jason asked. Danny turned to him, a bit surprised, but elated all the same. 

“Pancake art!” Danny exclaimed, turning to plop something on a plate and pushing it towards the counter. “I helped Alfred with breakfast, he’s going to wake the other people that uh, live here, but he’ll be back soon.”

“I would not call it art,” Damian grumbled. Jason snorted and sat down at the counter next to Damian, passing the duffel bag over the counter to Danny.

“Red Hood dropped off your stuff,”Jason explained when Danny raised an eyebrow at him. The kid perked up and took the bag to rummage through.”I’m Jason by the way, second oldest around here.”

“Ah, thanks for the stuff. I’m Danny,”Danny smiled. He eventually closed the bag and slid it to a corner that would be relatively in disturbed. Jason couldn’t help but wonder where he used to live, or if he had any family. Tim was supposedly doing a background check on the kid last night though, so Jason figured he’d get the information sooner or later. Meanwhile Jason looked at the plate he was handed, only to find what looked like a gingerbread man in pancake form and what was maybe a butterfly. Or a clover. 

Whatever. Jason shrugged, piling other things on his plate. He cut into the human pancake only for something red and squishy to come out of the middle. “What the fuck?” Jason frowned.

Danny looked up from where he was at the stove, confused before looking towards Jason’s plate. “Oh! The human pancake has strawberries inside, so when you cut them up it’s like guts.” Danny informed him.

Damian looked offended, and Jason barked out a laugh. “Why would you do such a thing?” Damian scowled. 

Danny shrugged. “Used to make pancakes with my sister. We got creative,”Danny smirked. “Besides, art is subjective. I can see why you wouldn’t appreciate such a masterpiece.”

“Yeah Damian. You wish you could have a pancake as cool as this.” Jason laughed, taking a bite of the surprisingly good strawberry pancake. He wondered what Bruce would think of the human pancake. Did this count as murder?

“I am not surprised that you came up with something so childish. The one you gave me definitely looks like something a child would do,”Damian stated flatly, busying himself with some eggs.

“I told you it’s a giraffe! Look, it’s got eyes and spots and everything!” Danny complained, gesturing with the spatula. Jason grinned, leaning over to catch a glimpse of the thing, and he could kind of see the resemblance. It looked more like a hippo with chocolate chip spots and a long neck with a head so small the two blueberry eyes barely fit on it. 

“Yep, looks like a giraffe to me,”Jason confirmed, smiling easily at the glare Damian returned. “Still not as cool as the human pancake, or this other one. Butterfly?”

“Exactly! See Damian, even Jason knows art,”Danny proclaimed. Seeing Damian getting worked up over pancake art was pretty funny, but Jason had to admit he was surprised Danny hadn’t been stabbed yet. “But it’s okay, I can teach you my secret pancake art making skills next time. Then we can make them together!”

Jason smirked as Danny’s offer halted the rage in Damian’s eyes. A glint of challenge lit up in the kids eye. “You would not need to teach me anything, I have no doubt I’d be better at it than you and your… giraffe.” Damian scoffed.

Danny pursed his lips, turning mysteriously,”We shall see, young grasshopper. You may have much to learn from master pancakers like me.” He said sagely. 

“Stop that. Pancakers is not a word, idiot, and it can’t be that hard,”Damian frowned. Danny just hummed, and Damian sighed, seemingly given up on entertaining the conversation any longer. “Now stop making your abominations and eat already. There is enough food here and it’s getting cold.”

Danny sighed dramatically. “Alright,”he drawled, but abandoned the pancake station to grab a plate. Jason couldn’t tell what pancake he’d gotten, but it looked like a ghost from where he was sitting. “Hey Damian,”Danny whispered. 

Damian huffed, but turned to Danny sitting next to him and asked in a normal yet exasperated voice,”What?”

“What do ghosts eat?” Danny whispered, and Damian frowned. 

“What are you talking about?” Damian squinted. 

“Boo-berries,”Danny whispered, and  lifted his plate so Damian could see the ghost shaped pancake with blueberries for eyes. The teenager looked on with a satisfied smile as Damian got the joke.

Jason snorted when Damian gave him a flat stare in return. “How old are you?” Damian asked seriously. “I refuse to believe someone so childish is actually attending highschool.”

“Don’t let Dick hear you say that,”Jason smirked. 

“Grayson is worse than Danny,”Damian grunted. Danny blinked at the two of them, out of the loop a bit. “But at least he doesn’t look like a twelve year old in addition.”

“I know I’m short and all but I’m actually 16,” Danny complained. Jason frowned, seeing Danny had only put the single pancake on his plate. Was the kid not hungry? Jason wondered. 

Before Damian could say anything, Tim bounded around the corner, coffee in hand. “Jason, you would not believe what I just found out about- Danny!” Tim cut himself off to exclaim when he caught sight of the teen sitting next to Damian. Tim looked between the three, bewildered. “What uh, what are you doing here?”

“Tim?! Did you get kidnapped too?!” Danny exclaimed with wide eyes. How many people lived in this mansion, he thought incredulously.

“What? No, I um, I live here. What happened?” Tim asked, looking between the three of them. Jason just snorted, so Tim shot him a glare, knowing it was somehow Jason’s fault he was unaware about his friend. 

“Um. Well,”Danny started, rubbing the back of his neck. “You know the vigilante Red Hood? He kinda picked me up and brought me here last night, but I’m only staying until the weather lets up, and then I’ll go back home.”

The three of them frowned at the explanation. “Huh, okay, why would Red Hood kidnap you?” Tim asked, shooting Jason a look. 

“I dunno,” Danny shrugged. “I was fine on my own, but I think he thought I was ‘unprepared for winter’ or something like that.”

“I heard you were camped out in a building with no heat or water, so he brought you here so you wouldn’t freeze to death during the blizzard,”Jason scoffed. Danny shrugged again.

“Same thing,” Danny said, much to Jason’s exasperation. He glanced at Tim, fidgeting uncomfortably. “Sorry, this is probably really weird for you. I’m not staying long, I promise.”

Damian turned his frown on Tim, surprisingly, and Tim scrambled to reassure his friend. “What? No- no you can stay as long as you need to, I don’t mind. And you’re always welcome here.” Tim finished lamely.

“Yes, and I doubt anyone here would let you go back to being homeless when we have so many resources to help you,”Damian added. Danny’s face contorted to one of panic.

“I really don’t need help, promise,”Danny said hurriedly, glancing to his bag of stuff. Jason rolled his eyes at his siblings. They were obviously freaking the kid out. 

“Quiet down,”Jason said. He looked to Danny,”No one’s gonna force you to do anything you don’t wanna do. We just wanna make sure you’re okay, whatever your plan is.”

Danny paused, but nodded after a second. The table was quiet after that, mostly because Jason was glaring at the other two to shut up about it. He didn’t really understand why Damian was so adamant about Danny staying either, but it really wasn’t helping. “So,”Jason started. “Have you had the tour yet?”

“Oh- no,”Danny stammered,”I saw the library though. And a living room? I think?” 

Damian nodded. “He arrived late last night, but had cocoa with Alfred in the living room,”Damian reported. “I am not sure to when you visited the library though.”

Danny’s smile turned sheepish,”I uh, couldn’t sleep so I went to get some water. Ended up at the library and just, read for a while.”

Jason perked up at the mention of books, but didn’t get a chance to ask before Damian pointedly passed some fruit over to Danny. “You know there’s plenty of food. You don’t have to eat so little.”

“Uh, I’m not that hungry,”Danny said nonchalantly, but picked out some fruit anyways, if only to get Damian to stop staring. 

Tim startled at the comment, but soon picked up his own plate, piling food onto it and staring in confusion at the precarious pile of mishshapen pancakes. “Uh, what are these?”

“Pancake art!” Danny chirped, mood sufficiently brightened. Damian on the other hand, frowned at Tim. 

“Alfred and Danny cooked breakfast this morning,”Jason crowed. Tim’s eyes widened in awe when he looked to Danny.

“He let you cook?” Tim asked. Danny nodded, confused at the reaction. “He never lets anyone cook. Except Jason.”

“Really?” Danny asked, looking thoughtful. “It was fun. How come no one else can cook?”

“Because they suck at it,”Jason smirked, dodging the blueberry thrown at him by Damian. “Timbo’s only allowed to touch the coffee machine, but otherwise the rest of the family is banned from Alfred’s kitchen.”

“Cooking is a waste of time when Pennyworth is perfectly capable,”Damian reasoned. 

Danny sighed. “I guess you don’t want to learn the art of pancakes then,”He teased, making Damian freeze.

“I am sure I would be allowed in the kitchen to participate,” Damian stated, albeit hesitantly. 

“I’ll have to come by for breakfast tomorrow then to help judge,” Jason mused. 

“You could join us!” Danny exclaimed, then continued mischievously. “Tim and Damian can be on a team since they suck and we can be on the team of winners.” 

“Wha- that’s not fair,”Tim complained. “Why not split up the good cooks and bad cooks?”

“You saying you can’t beat us?” Jason wiggled an eyebrow challengingly.

“No,”Damian objected at the same time Tim said yes. They traded looks. 

“Alright then, Drake and I will prove to you we are superior at your weird pancake art. Even if Drake is unhelpful, we’ll still make better art than your human pancake.”

“Human what?” Tim asked. Jason snorted, but stabbed one from the pancake plate and plopped it onto Tim’s plate. 

“Try one,”Jason said, and the other two watched in anticipation as Tim warily cut into the pancake. 

“What the fuck?”

Chapter 10

#Phantom of Gotham #dcxdp #dpxdc #danny phantom #danny fenton #tim drake #damian wayne #jason todd #dick grayson

[ladytauria]

Jaytim for 38?

thank you for the prompt!!!

i took it in a bit of a different direction—i was a little stuck on what to do, actually, lol. @waffleinator-inator made a suggestion they got the wheels turning, though, even if i didn’t end up going in that direction either! <3

it’s also a little bit inspired by this series which is among my favorite jaytim fics ever lol. the inspiration was mostly the tim driving bits; i don’t remember which fic it’s in, but there’s a line in jason’s pov abt tim driving that just… gets me

this is… either a no capes or jason lives au, w/ a side of possible hs au xD

posted & half-written on mobile so pardon any mistakes <3

i hope you enjoy!!

There is nothing hotter than watching Tim drive.

Well—

Alright.

That isn’t true. But something about watching how calm and confident he is in the driver’s seat is… intoxicating. Maybe it’s the way his long fingers wrap around the gearshift, or the steady grip he has on the wheel. Maybe it’s the way his sleeves are rolled up; exposing the corded muscle of his forearm, and the leather bracelet Jason wove for him tied around the sharp bones of his wrist. Maybe it’s the control he has, coolly certain that the vehicle will do exactly as he tells it to.

It’s enough to make his mouth dry.

Cool blue eyes glance his way. “Can’t get comfortable?” Tim asks, the dry humor in his tone bringing a flush to Jason’s cheeks.

“I—uh.” He has to stop and raise his green tea to his mouth, taking a few sips to wet his throat before he can continue. “I’m plenty comfortable, thanks. Just—a little lost in enjoying the view.” Fuck. Normally he’s more suave than this. Or he thinks he is, anyway. He can’t really say for certain. He doesn’t—do this much. Date. Most of the people in Gotham’s upper crust wouldn’t sully themselves with dating a street rat—except for those who can look past it to get at Bruce’s money.

Tim’s—different.

Jason watches his lips quirk—though, gratifyingly, there’s a bit of pink to his cheeks. “What, Mr. Wayne doesn’t take you out of the city much?” he asks.

“It’s different with you,” Jason says—and he. The cheesy romance of the line makes his stomach flip, but it’s true. Everything is different with Tim. There’s a diner he goes to with Dick and Cass, and Damian if they buy him something vegetarian first, but. He took Tim the other day and— It was almost like going somewhere entirely new.

The blush on Tim’s face gets a little brighter. “We’re almost there,” he says, instead of replying to that. Which suits Jason just fine—he likes when they flirt, but it also leaves his insides squirmy, and skin tight and tingly.

Today was a more—spontaneous date than Jason was used to. Tim was like that sometimes; he’d get an idea in his head and then just decide to act on it. An impulsivity that Jason… well. He wouldn’t say he lacked it, he was plenty impulsive but—

He liked plans.

But it was nice, following Tim’s lead, even when Tim was just making it up as he went along. He had a way of seeming so confident and assured in his plans that Jason couldn’t even tell he was improvising.

Today, Tim had decided the plan of the day was to ‘go fast.’ There was a stretch of road between Gotham and Bludhaven that almost no one used—a place Tim liked to go and see just how fast his car could really go.

Jason is excited. It’s one thing to watch Tim drive in the city. It’s going to be another thing to watch him out here. Couple that with the privacy—the lack of cameras or nosy siblings or overprotective fathers…

His heart thrums in his chest. He doesn’t know how far he’s ready to go, but… It’ll be nice to find out, maybe.

Tim turns onto another road. “Ready?” he asks, rolling the windows down.

Jason grins. “Yeah,” he says; wrapping one arm around the door handle. “Let’s go.”

Tim presses harder on the gas pedal. The engine rumbles, no longer whisper-quiet but a low, rolling growl Jason feels in his belly.

The wind whips through his hair, mussing his carefully styled curls. It brings more color to his cheeks, and roars in his ears. The scenery begins to blur together.

Jason’s grin widens. The wind steals the saliva from his mouth, leaving it dry again, but he doesn’t care.

He glances over at Tim—

He’s gorgeous, a crooked grin on his face; eyes bright and shining. The wind pulls his hair from where he tied it back; the feathery strands whipping around his face, some of them getting in his mouth and sticking to his cheeks. He looks— just as calm and relaxed as he does on the freeway, driving down a neighborhood, rolling his eyes at main street traffic.

Jason wants to kiss him.

He wants—he wants to climb over the glovebox and straddle his thighs, wants to feel Tim’s hands on his hair, splayed over his ribs, on the back of his neck. Wherever he wants, as long as they’re on Jason.

He wants—

He wants.

Tim glances his way. His eyes widen a moment, like he can see Jason’s desire written on his face. Maybe he can.

“Do you want to—“ Tim has to shout to be heard over the wind. He doesn’t get to finish his sentence, though, before sirens blare behind him.

“Shit,” Jason says, as he watches Tim’s mouth form a similar word. Both expletives are stolen, though.

Tim’s mouth twists as he slows down, pulling onto the shoulder as soon as it’s safe. “Sorry,” he murmurs to Jason as he rolls down his window. “There usually aren’t any policemen here.” He reaches into his pocket.

“It’s fine,” Jason says, waving his hand. He’s still not the biggest fan of cops—avoids them, if he can get away with it. But the instant paranoia they cause is easier to swallow these days, if only because he trusts that Bruce would raise hell if any of ‘em tried anything.

He glances in the rear view—and swears.

“Motherfucker.”

A very familiar figure steps out of the vehicle behind them. Jason didn’t talk to Dick for a week when he announced he was going to the police academy. He should have held his tongue for longer.

Tim glances up at the vitriol in his tone, license now clutched between his fingers. He glances in his mirror, and Jason can tell the moment he recognizes Dick. Unlike Jason, though, Tim breathes a soft sigh of relief.

Jason doesn’t have enough time to tell him his relief is premature before Dick approaches the window.

He flashes them both a bright, sunny grin. Jason wants to punch him.

“Do you know why I pulled you over?” Dick asks, politely.

Of all the stupid fucking—

“Because you’re an asshole you—“

Tim cuts him off with a gentle touch to his knee. “No, Officer, I don’t,” Tim says; and Jason knows, despite Tim facing away from him, that he’s wearing his polite gala smile.

Dick’s smile dims a bit, but he holds it in place. “This is a forty mile-per-hour zone,” he says. “Wanna tell me why you were doing over a hundred?”

Jason looks in Tim’s mirror; biting his lip to hold back his smile when he sees Tim’s eyes widen, mouth parting. He looks like the picture of innocence.

“Was I? Sorry, Officer, I’ve been meaning to get this looked at,” Tim says, nodding towards his speedometer. “Part of why I drive on back roads; according to it, I was only doing fifty.” He glances at Jason. “Right, baby?”

Jason nods immediately, his shoulders starting to shake.

“Uh-huh,” Dick drawls. “You know it’s a two-hundred sixty dollar fine, right?” He pauses and glances at Jason. “Not to mention the aneurysm Bruce’ll have when he finds out.”

“I think you mean *if* he finds out,” Jason says. “Since, y’know, you’re a cool older brother and will let us off with a warning?”

Dick snorts. “But then how will I know you’ve learned your lesson?” he raises his brows. “It’s a backroad, not a speedway.”

“Like you didn’t do way worse at our age!” Jason has heard the stories. Some of them he wishes he hadn’t.

Dick snorts. “I’ll let you off with a warning this time,” he relents. “But, seriously. If you want to speed, I know of a couple places you can go. No more speeding on the backroad.”

Tim nods seriously.

Dick gives him a pink slip. “Alright, you two. Have fun, be safe, don’t do anything Uncle Clark wouldn’t do. I’ll see you at dinner, Jason—Tim?”

Tim shrugs.

“Probably,” Jason answers for him.

Dick nods, and walks back to his car. Jason pauses, then unbuckles his seatbelt to lean out the window and shout, “And stop following us, asshole!”

Dick gives him a lazy salute before slipping into his car. Jason doesn’t trust him a bit.

He flops back in the seat, buckling himself back in. “Sorry my brother is such a dick,” he says.

Tim smiles at him. “Don’t worry about it, Jay,” he says, leaning over the console. Jason meets him halfway, receiving a short, sweet kiss for his trouble. Both of them linger, breath mingling.

“Sorry your plans are ruined,” Jason murmurs.

Tim hums. “I wouldn’t say they’re ruined. I’d be happy just to drive with you.”

The flush is back in Jason’s cheek. “I, uh. That sounds nice. Maybe, uh. Maybe we could find a nice place to park, too?”

Tim turns cherry red. “I— Yeah. Um. We could. Probably do that.”

Jason grins.

If Dick tries to get them for public indecency, Jason’s going to commit fratricide. Hopefully Tim will be willing to go on the run with him.

#is it obvious i didn’t decide they were teenagers until 3 paragraphs in? #jaytim #timjay #dcu #lovely anons #asks and answers #tauriawritesfanfic

[alittledoseofchaos]

Marvelous Miracles (Please Disregard the Ghosts)

Note: bold and italic means that it is said in french.

First, Prev,

'In. Out.' Marinette thinks to herself as she clambers out of the van.

"Here you go, Miss Marinette." She feels her nose crinkle in displeasure as she turns to accept her suitcase.

"Just Marinette, please." She feels her eyebrows furrow as Alfred chuckles quietly. Bewilderment spreads through her as he just keeps walking up the steps. Realizing she's being left behind, she rushes forward. She's just in time for him to reach the door. She turns to him to repeat herself when she hears a crash.

Spinning around to face the oak door, she finally takes in the sight around her. A vast, stone building looms infront of her. The manor's windows are small, but plentiful and built with stone mullions. The manor is clearly old with all the chips she could see in the stone. Gray skies threaten rain and pale vines blanket the walls.

'Goth and elegant, just like Juleka.' As soon as the thought forms, a rush of inspiration and aching loneliness fills her. Pushing aside both, she pulls out her phone to take a picture.

Her thumb hovers over the button as the feeling of being watched overcomes her again. Her grip tightens. She finally understands how people can feel like they're suffocating even when they're outside. The overwhelming sense of walls closing in, inch by inch. A pressure presses against her neck and cuts off her air flow.

Another abrupt crash brings her back to reality. She takes in a large, greedy breath. Feeling the air fill her lungs grounds her slightly. She opens her eyes, and shudders when everything appears to be tinted green.

"Miss Marinette, are you alright?" She turns towards the voice hesitantly. Meeting Alfred's eyes, she goes to answer when the front door slams open. A young man rushes out, his black hair being the only distinguishable thing as he runs through.

"I'm going to kill you Drake!" Another blur yells. The limited sunlight glints off the sheen of metal. The second blur tackles the first and their both sent tumbling down the remaining steps.

"I do hope you both decided to wash your own clothes, since you've clearly decided to ruin them." Alfred cuts in. The blurs freeze before scrambling apart. There before her stands two boys.

One appears to be nineteen, with incredibly pale skin and calculating blue eyes. The other boy has forest green eyes and looks to be about twelve. She watches as the older boy takes a knife out of the other boy's hands and throws it to the side. Why does he have a knife? The boys stand straight and tall. The youngest's face scrunches into a scowl.

"Really, another one?" The boys say in sync. Seeing that the boys were close to murdering each other, Alfred steps in.

"Master Tim, Master Damian, if you would please refrain from attempted murder infront of our guest, that would be wonderful."

"So successful murder is still on the table, then?" The shorter boy says dryly. Marinette watches in awe as Alfred raises his eyebrow and the boys reluctantly shuffle inside. Following them into the foyer of the mansion, Marinette eyes everything around her with bug eyes. Alfred clears his throat, staring at the boys pointedly.

"Oh, right, I'm Tim and you are?" The older boy greets. Taking a closer look, Marinette sees that eyebags as dark as an abyss weigh down his eyes.

"Uh, Marinette, Marinette Dupain-Cheng." He nods solemnly.

"Cool. Bye." She flounders as he walks off. She hears Alfred sigh behind her.

"I guess that means you're Da-" She stops as she realizes that Damian is no longer with them. "What in camembert cheese is happening?"

She ignores Alfred's quiet "pardon?" and turns to a man descending the stairs. His black hair falls into a careless look, but his dark blue eyes are full of careful consideration. He appears very relaxed, which should've been her first clue that things were only going to get worse.

"Hello! I'm Dick! You must be Marinette."

"I- yeah?...Isn't that a cuss word?" She mumbles.

"It's an old nickname for Richard." He replies breezily. Marinette nods her head.

"Yeeeaaahhh, Alfred may you please take me to my room now? Or back to Paris, atleast I'm used to the crazy there."

Alfred smiles at her warmly and Dick laughs. Heat blooms across her face. She crosses her arms as she tries not to throw her arms up in exasperation.

"Tired of us already? And here I was, hoping you'd enjoy your stay here." A man in a suit says from her left. Another person with black hair and blue eyes She feels her eyes widen as she realizes who he is.

"Th- that's not what I m- meant Mr. Wayne! I'm really grateful for you helping me out and-" Bruce Wayne smiles and cuts off her rambling with a wave.

"I'm just joking, Ms. Dupain-Cheng."

The next hour is a blur for Marinette as she goes through a brief tour and Bruce lists off the ground rules. When she finally gets to her very large guest room, her mind is whirling. Her phone lights up as a shrill ringing fills the room. She reaches for the phone and answers it absent-mindedly.

"Hey Nathaniel..."

#marvelous miracles (please disregard the ghosts) #mass crossover #maribat #maribat marinette dupain cheng #maribat bruce wayne #maribat damian wayne #so on and so forth

[vee-crytraps]

Good Luck, Babe! | Ch 1-6 | Ice Cream for Breakfast

{Trigger Warning/Themes Masterlist} This is split into a billion parts because it's long as hell! Read on Ao3 to avoid the headache!

The wind howls as it rolls over the rooftop, the stale smoke in the Gotham night air filling your lungs. Silas slaps his palm against the brick wall, right next to your head. “Who was that?” If you're intimidated, you don't let it show. You cross your arms, keeping your voice level as you answer. “He’s a friend of Damian’s. From like…Kansas.” “Kansas.” He repeats, huffing out a laugh as he leans away. "Right, okay."

You seem to have said the right thing, as you watch the tension in his posture melt away. “Yeah? Silas, what’s-“ “Sorry. It’s just. You seemed real friendly with him, y’know. You just. Fuck, you look so good tonight, and so happy, and you were dancing with that prick and I just-“ “Just what?” Your brows furrow, and you try to slot the pieces together in your mind. No matter how much you think it through, you can't find anything that changed between now and your call this afternoon. “It’s nothing, baby.” The pet name makes you freeze. You can taste the remnants of his iced coffee on his lips as he presses them to yours with the confidence of a boyfriend.  Confusion rolls through you, but you manage to act nonetheless.  You rest your hands flush against his chest and gently try to push him backwards. “Uh…?” “What’s wrong?” He mumbles against your lips, his fingers curling in the front of your sash. You couldn't see it hours earlier, through your pre-party jitters and the barrier of a screen. It's clear now, that he's looking at you through a much different lens. “Si. Come on,” A nervous chuckle escapes you, and you suddenly regret not moving from your position against the wall the moment you could.  “We’re not like…like that.” You try, tensing as you feel his grip tighten in his sash. You're somewhat relieved when his lips fall away from your own, his head resting on your shoulder as he registered your response.  It was clearly not the one he was hoping for. “What about-” His voice dies, and you can feel him take that deep, shuddering breath that often comes before rage. "Last week, I thought..." “Last week was different.” You remind him, refusing to shrink away. Everything about your little pact had been platonic down to a science. You'd had discussions, made a plan and followed through. He hadn't even kissed you! Sure, Silas is cute, but the only way the sex could have been any more clinical is if you did it through a hole in the sheet. He releases your sash, the cheap glitter sticking to his palm as he begins to pace. You rub at your temples, beneath the prongs of your plastic tiara. “We hooked up two times, okay? Like, for the bit. And you swore that it wouldn’t be weird-” “Well it is fucking weird!” He shouts, and you push off from the wall before he can become tempted to trap you against it.  You hate this- the way your body instantly taps into the fear response that comes with being along with an angry man.  “It…it’s so weird, princess. Too weird.” “Si,” You try, taking a hesitant step forward as he runs his hands through his hair- slicked back just like you requested. "You said-" “I know what I said." He snaps, but you recognize the look in his eye. He's clearly more upset with himself than with you.  "I’m just tired, alright?! I can't keep fucking pretending like I don't want to text you every minute of the day, or hold your hand, or kiss you breathless-” He yanks his friendship bracelet off of his wrist with a little too much force. The white plastic beads that spell your name on scatter across the concrete.  “Your friendship means so much to me, princess, but I've been out of my mind all week. I want more.” Silas reaches for your wrist, holding you steady as he goes for your bracelet. “I just want-“ Someone calls your last name, and you turn to spot Damian in the doorway, Jon peaking over his shoulder. “What’s going on?” Part 7

#glb! #v.fic

[berriusagi]

Bunny's Masterlist of Fics

Finally got around to compiling all the fics I've posted so far into one master list. All of these have been posted on my Ao3 as well so feel free to check them out Here.

Current Fandoms Included:

Miraculous Lady bug and Batman Crossover: ( 1 ) Fic(s)

Call of Duty: ( 5 ) Fic(s)

All of my fics and links to their chapters are under the cut. Hope you enjoy!

Miraculous Ladybug and Batman Crossover

Stomach Bug

Rating: Teen and Up

Word Count: 64,779

Summary: Marinette and Damian try to keep their relationship secret from their two families but that all goes up in smoke when Marinette comes down with a stomach bug. Marinette is panicking, Harley and Ivy are supportive, Damian is happy, the batfam is insane.

Notice!!! Discontinued Rewrite in Progress but slow going!!!

( 1 ) ( 2 ) ( 3 ) ( 4 ) ( 5 ) ( 6 ) ( 7 ) ( 8 ) ( 9 ) ( 10 ) ( 11 ) ( 12 ) ( 13 ) ( 14 ) ( 15 ) ( 16 ) ( 17 ) ( 18 ) ( 19 ) ( 20 ) ( 21 ) ( 22 ) ( 23 ) ( 24 )

Call of Duty

A Good Night's Sleep

Rating: General

Word Count: 505

Summary: After a long job, all Soap wants is a shower, his bed, and to sleep for an undetermined amount of time. Ghost helps him get what he needs.

( Oneshot )

A Name's Worth

Rating: Teen and Up

Word Count: 7,377

Summary: "Give me yer name,” Soap said leaning in close, "Give me yer name and it’ll be like it never existed and you’ll see just how much the name Simon really means to ye.”

Ghost chuckled rolling his eyes as he took another slow drag of his cigarette before stubbing it out in the ashtray, "Is that so?"

Soap nodded looking as serious as a drunk could while spread out over their superior's lap, "Can I have your name Simon?”

Ghost chuckled readjusting Soap in his arms, "Yeah you can,” he nodded leaning back as Soap calmed down and settled back in his arms.

( 1 ) ( 2 ) ( 3 )

Target of My Affections

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 10,681

Summary: The man stumbled back thrown off by Johnny’s sudden spike in energy and watched wide-eyed as the man fell to his knees clinging to him and practically begging him to murder his husband. He felt a small smirk tugging at his lips as he looked down at the wide blue eyes still shining with a few remaining tears in the corners, "I shouldn’t like this as much as I do.” he chuckled.

Johnny paused in his begging to blink up at him and tilted his head slightly almost like a curious puppy, "uh… killing?” he asked.

"No,” he grinned reaching down and running his fingers through his mohawk, "having a soon-to-be widower begging at my feet.” he chuckled gripping his hair, "How about we head somewhere more private and talk shop on how you want this to go.”

( 1 ) ( 2 )

SCP-1221 "Ghost"

Rating: Teen and Up

Word Count: 7,096

Summary: "Hey Ghostie,” a man with a Scottish accent said, the sound of him settling onto the floor on the other side of the door filled the silence of the hall, "Oof my knees aren’t what they used to be.” he chuckled leaning back against the wall beside his door, "So how was your day of testing? I heard they were seeing how your uh… tentacles worked?” he asked, his tone changing on the word tentacles as if he was unsure if that was the proper word to use.

Ghost didn’t reply but felt a small smile pull at his lips as he listened to the Scot ramble on about everything and nothing at the same time. It had been a few months since he was found by the SCP Foundation and he turned himself in. It took only a week for him to start getting his late-night visitor, unprompted and he never needed to speak, the other man was happy to chatter away on his own. He was thankful for a sense of companionship, it helped him from going completely crazy while locked away in the dark all alone at night.

( 1 ) ( 2 )

Snowy Escape

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 7,671

Summary: As the winter season comes into full swing Roach starts to feel its effects. He isn't able to effectively work in these conditions so like years prior he's sent on leave and naturally his boyfriends have to accompany him. Tucked away in the English countryside amongst the comforts of home and with his lovers, there isn't much to do besides the obvious.

( Oneshot )

#fanfic #call of duty #cod #miraculous ladybug #batman #Bunny's Fics

[winterskywrites]

so i saw this post asexualbert. tumblr. com/post/678896279350280192/a-yes-agreed-b-im-officially-choosing-to-only and i was wondering if you could write part b of the reblog? maybe dick spinning the story to the other robins while bruce is just facepalming in the background? idk, the post made me laugh and i was hoping to see it fleshed out

A link to the post in question, by @asexualbert and @penny-anna

"I'm just saying," Jason said as he and the others made their way upstairs, "I think I got some of the worst training, because B had Golden Boy as his baseline for what a kid can do, and that provided a seriously messed up baseline."

"I was trained by the League of Assassins, Todd," Damian said flatly.

"So was I, you're not special," Jason replied. "Also, we're just talking about Bruce's training, so you definitely didn't have the worst. You'd already been trained by the League and by Dick, so B couldn't have had to train you that much."

"You definitely didn't have the worst training, Jason," Tim argued. "It was only after you died that Bruce got super overprotective and neurotic about making sure we were so over-prepared that we could each stop a full-on apocalypse on our own."

"At least you made it through training," Steph countered. "I just got fired."

"Uh, guys, is this supposed to be encouraging?" Duke asked warily. "I thought you guys were going to be giving me tips on getting through Batman's training."

"Not so bad," Cass said, patting him on the shoulder.

"Easy for you to say!" Steph cried. "You were already a perfect fighting machine by the time you joined Bruceman. Did he even have anything to train you on?"

Cass shrugged. "Speaking. Barbara helped."

"What are you guys talking about?" Dick asked as he and Bruce joined them at the top of the stairs.

"Who had the worst training from Bruce," Steph said. "So we can give Duke tips."

Duke looked at Bruce with wide eyes, but he just sighed. "And I suppose you're all competing for the first place spot?"

"Well, Cass isn't," Tim said, which was a confirmation in and of itself.

"You guys can compete all you want, but you won't win," Dick declared. "I definitely had the worst training."

"Oh, as if," Jason argued immediately. "There's no way you had the worst training."

"I was the first kid, and B had absolutely no idea what to do with me," Dick said. "He was a disaster. I swear, I probably would have died if Alfred weren't there."

"Yeah, but the same goes for all of us," Tim replied.

Cass nodded sagely. "No food."

"You want to talk about no food?" Dick asked. He leaned forward conspiratorially. "Bruce made me sleep in the Cave and eat rats."

Duke's eyes went wide. Bruce groaned. Damian tutted, and the others tried their best not to laugh.

"Will you ever let that go?" Bruce asked.

Dick grinned. "Never."

"Wait," Duke cut in, "he didn't actually- I mean, he wouldn't-"

"I never made Dick sleep in the Cave and eat rats," Bruce said, sounding like he was very tired of clarifying that. "Dick would tell people that when he was mad at me. It led to some very awkward conversations with Commissioner Gordon and the Justice League."

"You should have let me go to Batburger after patrol," Dick said, utterly unrepentant. "And you definitely shouldn't have tried to sideline me when the League was having a meeting in the Cave. You knew how much I wanted to meet everyone. You've only got yourself to blame for that one."

"My children are menaces, every one," Bruce told Duke. "Don't believe anything they tell you."

"Okay, don't believe Dick's whole rat story, but you should definitely believe the rest of us," Jason countered. "B's training is hell."

"It's rigorous, but it's not too bad," Tim said, taking pity on Duke. "He's just trying to make sure you're prepared for anything. And the rest of us can help when he's being really impossible."

"I'm right here, Tim."

"Father's training is nothing compared to the League's," Damian dismissed. "You should be able to bear it, Thomas."

Dick slung an arm around Duke's shoulders. "Fifteen year old jokes aside, B is a pretty good teacher, and the rest of us are here to help. You'll be okay, Duke. I know you can do it, and we won't even make you eat rats to prove it."

Duke blinked. "Uh, thanks?"

Dick grinned widely. "Of course, you won't be a true member of the family until Bruce makes you sleep in the Cave with no blankets-"

"For the last time, I have never made any of you sleep in the Cave!"

#dick grayson #nightwing #jason todd #red hood #damian wayne #robin #tim drake #red robin #stephanie brown #spoiler #cassandra cain #batgirl #black bat #duke thomas #signal #bruce wayne #batman #dc #batfam #batfamily #all star batman and robin #my writing #prompt #anonymous

[hintofelation99]

Damian is Nice for a Week:

-> Monday, Breakfast <-

Damian: Richard, I have prepared a bowl of the sugary styrofoam that you call food.

Dick: Aw thanks Dami! That's so nice!

Damian: You are welcome. Drake, here is your coffee.

Tim: No.

Damian: Excuse me?

Tim: No. I am too tired for a murder attempt today, so no.

Damian, trying not to get annoyed: I am not attempting to murder you.

Tim: Take a sip.

Damian, gritting his teeth: What?

Tim: If it's not poisoned then take a sip.

Damian: Just drink the coffee.

Tim: No.

Damian: Drink the coffee!

Tim: No!

Damian: DRINK THE COFFEE!!

Tim: NO!!

-> 5 Minutes Later <-

Damain has Tim in a head lock and is trying to force feed him coffee. Meanwhile Dick is in the background calmly eating his cereal.

Damian: DRINK IT!

Tim: NO!!

Bruce: ...Do I want to know what's happening?

Dick: Nope.

Bruce, pauses to think: Okay.

Bruce leaves.

-> Tuesday, Lunch <-

Damian and Duke are having lunch at school, Damian approaches Duke's table where he's sitting with his friends.

Damian: Thomas, I wish to sit with you.

Duke: Oh, uh, okay?

Damian: Thank you. You are... an adequate brother.

Duke: Oh, thanks Damian.

Izzy: Aww Duke, is this your little brother?

Duke: Yeah this is Damian.

Izzy: He's adorable!

Damian, grinding the words out through his teeth: Thank. You.

Duke: So, Dami, what's up?

Damian: I have brought you one of Alfred's cookies.

Duke: Oh, thank you Dami- uh, this isn't like breakfast with Tim is it?

Damian: What does that mean?

Duke: Well, you sorta tried to poison Tim yesterday...

Damian: I did not try to poison Drake! He was over reacting!!

Duke and his friends slowly back away.

Damian: Eat the cookie Thomas! It is not poisoned!!

Duke: I'm, uh, I'm good.

Damain: You will eat this cookie and be happy!!

Duke runs away.

-> Wednesday, Dinner <-

Damian: Brown, please pass the dinner rolls.

Stephanie: There you go.

Damian: Thank you.

Stephanie: ...

Dick: ...

Duke: ...

Tim: I TOLD YOU HE WAS POSSESSED!

Damian: I AM NOT POSSESSED!

Tim: I'M CALLING CONSTANTINE!!

-> Thursday, Dessert <-

Damian: Here Gordon, you may have my slice of cake.

Babs: Damian please stop trying to poison us.

Damian: I never even tried to poison Drake!

Babs, raises an eyebrow.

Damian: I never even tried to poison Drake this week!

-> Friday, Patrol <-

Damian goes to crime alley, without telling Jason, to help him out for the night.

Damian: Red Hood I have-

Jason shoots at Damian.

Damian: What are you doing?! I am here to help!!

Jason, puts his gun down: Huh, oh, okay. Sorry just assumed you were gonna attack.

Damian: ...

Jason: Just don't try to poison me.

Damian: I DID NOT ATTEMPT TO POISON ANYONE THIS WEEK!

-> Saturday <-

Damian: There. I was nothing but nice to my siblings for an entire week and they did not appreciate me at all. I have not only proven my kindness, but I have proven superiority to my siblings.

Jon: You started Monday?

Damian: Yes.

Jon: A week is seven days.

Damian: ...

Jon: Not five.

----------

<- Original Ask | Next ->

#bruce wayne #batman #dick grayson #barbara gordon #nightwing #oracle #jason todd #red hood #cassandra cain #black bat #stephanie brown #spoiler #batgirl #tim drake #red robin #duke thomas #the signal #damian wayne #robin #jon kent #superboy #mypost

[woahajimes]

the batfamily is stupid as hell and they're self isolating because SOMEBODY got covid (steph) and then SOMEBODY (cass-- who also has covid bc uh stephcass) sneezed on tim who drank from jason's cup without knowing it was jason's cup and anyways everyone in the manor got covid so ✨self isolation for 2 weeks✨

ANYHOW they were all bored out of their minds and jason was about to throw damian out the window bc siblings right

SO BASICALLY cass came up with the big brain idea of a competition (prize being complete immunization of sibling interaction UNLESS they ask for it-- eg. "hey can you open this for me")

teams were made (just two people per team-- duke/damian, jason/cass, steph/harper, dick/tim)

there were "rounds" and these consisted of

round 1: person a has to feed person b a whole jar of peanut butter and they could switch places ONCE (team to finish last was disqualified)

round 2: they had to recreate this picture and had ten minutes to do so, at the end every team compared pictures and alfred decided whose was the worst and that team was out

round 3: they had to run five laps around the manor with their team member on their back, first person to get through the finish line (for the fifth time, there was a picture taken each time they crossed it) won.

simple, right?

WELL NO

first round basically went like this:

jason: NO FUCK YOU AND YOUR STUPID PEANUT BUTTER cass: jason: okay okay ill go first

tim went first, harper went first, and duke went first (duke didn't want to go first but he lost to rock paper scissors so)

tim puked in the first two minutes but alfred had forgotten to clarify that if you puke you're out so basically he kept eating

cass and jason were the first ones to switch

dick and tim switched immediately after (they were waiting for someone else to switch)

steph and harper fucking DIED

"im never eating peanut butter after this"

"by GOD EAT FASTER ITS NOT EVEN A SOLID"

"CAN YOU NOT SHOVE THAT SPOON DOWN MY THROAT"

"IM NOT GOING TO LOSE IN THE FIRST ROUND FUCK YOU"

duke and damian finished first and when ppl asked how (they're the youngest ones, people were sure they couldn't handle it) damian was like "i simply moved all my internal organs to the side" and duke was like "tf you literally ate two spoons and a half"

STEPH AND HARPER LOST and tim laughed (his team got to the next round by literally a second) so harper and steph both threw him the containers and spoons

second round:

tim thought he had a big brain for calling dibs on being on the pool mat but nOOO (duke was on the pool mat, damian was the lightest so yeah--- jason was on the pool mat solely because cass called dibs on jumping and crushing him-- imagine all the chaos)

literally they(jason/cass) took 14 pictures total and all of them were fucked up because of jason (his hands weren’t in the right place, both his legs were picked up)

duke and damian couldn’t do it skjdfhskfh they were D Y I N G (every two minutes you heard a really loud scream/groan with a sudden splat and yeah)

steph and harper had never laughed harder

cass was so done with jason she literally shoved him off the pool mat

tim was literally dead they had taken the shot around 20 times and none of them looked good it was horrible (dick didnt even apologize for crushing tim 90934757894 times -- not every shot was decent so they deleted around 40)

when the timer went off, alfred carefully took all the phones (jason’s phone was somehow at the bottom of the pool and jason was tired(tm) so he asked cass to get the phone pls and cass just got in the pool and shoved the pool mat over (and then got out)

after around 20 minutes of alfred going through the pictures, he decided that the best ones were dick and tim’s (how i have zero idea but)

and then the worst ones were duke and damian’s (so jason and cass made it to the third round)

cass asked alfred why theirs weren’t the best, and alfred said “well master jason’s arm looks very off and he looks genuinely scared” and cass was like “GODDAMNIT JASON” and lost her shit 

LAST ROUND: 

so they did think this through and basically cass on jason’s back and tim on dick’s back

jason: HA! YOU’RE NOT FASTER THAN I AM! dick: i don’t need to be??? you’ve got CASS on your back. you know what that means? jason: .... you wouldn’t.. tim, on dick’s back: *snorts* YEAH OKAY

cass: what are they talking about?  jason: NO NOTHING jason: you might want earbuds or something to like... block the sounds... they’re gonna be wanting to distract you cass: yeah well. I’m not distracted easily

the timer goes off, tim on dick’s back, and they’re pretty even for the first two laps, but then tim’s shoe falls off and tim’s like “WAIT MY SHOE” and dick goes “WHAT THE FUCK” 

and tim is like “whoa youre right KEEP RUNNING” 

cass on jason’s back: HEY STEPH CAN YOU PASS ME THE PRETZELS

update: cass does get pretzels and gives jason a few  jason: CASS THATS MY NOSE cass: OH OOPS LOL

dick: tim i think its time to pull out our secret weapon tim: yeah you’re right tim: tim: HEY CASS *starts humming to ‘levitating’ by dua lipa* tim: 🎶 if you wanna run away with me-  🎶

jason: NO  jason: NOOO CASS COVER YOUR EARS DONT LISTEN TO THEM cass:  🎶 IF YOU WANNA RUN AWAY WITH ME I KNOW A GALAXY WHERE I COULD TAKE YOU FOR A RIDE  🎶

(you may ask how this distracts jason but it just DOES)

dick takes this as a head start and runs faster (theyre on their third lap now- both)

tim gets a bit too excited and leans too much and makes them both fall over (they were abt half a lap ahead)

tim: GET UP GET UP dick: THIS IS YOUR FAULT TF YOU MEAN 

cass:  🎶 YOU WANT ME  🎶 jason:  🎶 I WANT YOU BABY  🎶  *runs past them*  dick: HOW jason: JUST DONT FIGHT IT 

karma’s a bitch (and dick paid steph) and jason slipped, causing them to fall almost the exact way that tim and dick fell

dick and tim have now caught up to them, as jason and cass pick themselves up

jason: we should switch cass: yeah alright do you want me to momentarily kill you so we can distract the others and then you wake up and we run jason: ...no cass:  jason: ... maybe

*two seconds later*

cass: HE’S DEAD! MY POOR BROTHER HE’S DEAD! steph: YEAH WE KNOW YOU MOMENTARILY KILLED HIM GET UP cass: ok jason lets go stand up 

they keep going and dick stops for a second (theyre ahead)  dick: hey its your turn now tim:  dick: yeah i know you cant cmon climb on

COMEPLETE HEADCANON jason and cass won anyways thank you for coming to my ted talk

#batfamily #jason todd #red hood #tim drake #red robin #robin #damian wayne #the signal #nightwing #dick grayson #batfamily headcanons #cassandra cain #blackbat #orphan #stephanie brown #spoiler #batgirl #harper row #bluebird #dick and tim #tim and dick

[nitewrighter]

Headcanons for Robin/Nightwing and Starfire’s future in the animated series?

>If we're assuming they got together after "Trouble In Tokyo" I imagine they'd be together for about... two to three years. During this time Robin finally has the confidence to put on the mantle of Nightwing and move away from being Robin, but also something's still off.

>Like the thing about 03 Robin/Nightwing, at least in my interpretation, is that he's going to continue to be a hot-headed over-competitive asshole consumed by their hero work until Starfire's like, "Okay but do you actually see yourself having a life outside of this. Do you see yourself as a whole person outside of this." And Robin doesn't actually have an answer for that. So... she dumps him. She loves him, and she knows he loves her, but like... she also knows that the Dick she knows now will just keep throwing himself at a wall until he falls apart if it means getting the mission done, and she knows that's not healthy for either of them. She knows she's not helping him get past that.

>So Starfire goes into space for a time to get some perspective--and it hurts, but like... also Earth is a planet she got really attached to because she essentially crashed onto it after a series of really traumatic events, so she kind of needs to see how big the universe is because she let her world get so small so fast. She loves her friends, but she also needs to see what's out there, you know? So she goes among the stars, nearly gets recruited into the Star Sapphire corps, helps Razer find Aya (because goddammit I need closure there), has long philosophical sessions with The Android, hangs out with the Wonder Twins, kicks some Apokolips butt, hooks up with a Thanagarian hottie, gets fuckin' blasted with Lobo, gets in a bar fight with Lobo, has a long weird bonding session with Lobo, and drunkenly cries to Space Cabbie about how much she misses the Titans (and Dick) while Lobo's like, "You don't NEED them, you are a strong, beautiful, independent Tamaranean!" Helps Lobo patch things up with his own daughter, does her best to patch things up with Blackfire (Things are still really awkward between them but there are fewer coups involved, at least.) Does a whole bunch of humanitarian (tamaranean-tarian?) work on Tamaran, and honestly just kind of gets a great sense of like, "Okay, you know... I actually feel like a whole person now." Like she's seen enough of the universe that like... she doesn't feel like a fish out of water back on earth. But ultimately... she misses earth, and she misses her friends, and that's her home, so she returns. It's been like... 3 years, but she finally feels comfortable saying that's her home.

>Now in that three years, Dick's been going through it, too, but this is not a "Getting Your Groove Back In Space" situation. He's doing a lot of work in Blüdhaven. He has a kind of intense relationship with Barbara Gordon. Like the whole thing there was that Babs was hardcore a childhood crush for him, so it's like, "Yeah! This is what I've actually wanted the whole time! Guess I just have a thing for redheads!" But... nah. It's... not quite like that. Like Babs thinks he's cute but it's also like Dick represents her trying to get emotional fulfillment out of the whole cape life and everything's all tangled up in them trying to prove themselves to Bruce and why the fuck are they still trying to prove themselves to Bruce?! It's that situation where you think it's what you want and you convinced yourself its what you want for so long that you don't want to admit how hollow it feels when you finally have it... Dick's still willing to try for it, but Babs was always the brains between them and she breaks it off.... then she gets paralyzed and that fucks both of them up and Dick is like, "Hey let me be here for you" but she pushes him away. She's done. (Don't worry give her like a year and a half and she'll be kicking ass as Oracle--it'll all work out.)

>So Dick is like, "Fine. I can give up the cape life too. All it's ever done is fuck me up anyway." So he does. But it's not like he can sit around and do nothing. And that's where all of the fucking "Spyral" shit starts. Spyral sucks. He feels like a goddamn idiot with Spyral. But then everything starts funneling back toward Gotham again and uh oh it turns out Gotham has gone to shit--like way more to shit than usual. And that's when Damian pops up in Dick's life like "Bruce disappeared. You have to be Batman now. Also you suck and you'll never be Batman. Now put on the cowl. Fuck you." And Dick is like, "Wow. I cannot stress how much this is the last thing I want." And just to rub his nose in it further Tim Drake is just absolutely vibing as Red Robin so it's like, "Huh I guess all your Robin hangups were a you problem." But... somehow chasing Damian's freaky little sword-wielding-ass around and getting the shit kicked out of him by Jason and then kicking the shit out of Jason helps him work through a bunch of stuff? Like it's ugly. It's an ugly situation from all angles. But it's also Dick confronting literally everything that fucked him up about being Robin, while also trying to steer Damian to a healthier mindset as the new Robin.

>Eventually Bruce returns from the Phantom Zone or whatever, takes up the mantle of Batman again like, "Oh god I'm so sorry I never meant to put that on you and I realize I put a lot of shit on you" and Dick comes out of it finally being able to say, "I'm never going to be Batman. But if I'm going to be a symbol, and I know I want to be a symbol, I'm Nightwing." And Bruce is like, "Hey, that's great. So like... this is totally optional... but the league is putting together a kind of junior team. It's gonna be run a lot more cleanly that the first iteration of the Titans, but we can't be babysitting them the whole time... what do you say." And honestly being a mentor has like... really grown on Dick, so he's like, "yeah totally." And Hal fucking Jordan cuts in like, "Great! You'll be co-leading with Kory!" and Dick's like "What."

>Oh my god working as co-leaders is so fucking awkward. Like basically each sees the other like, "Oh fuck. They've gotten so much hotter and they seem so much more mature and together and I've just been a hot mess for the past three years." But then they start catching up more and more, and they start talking about their adventures, and god, they are such good co-mentors to the new Titans. They become really good friends and that whole guardedness about not wanting to hurt each other actually lets them develop a really deep and respectful non-romantic relationship. But also there's still that "Oh no they're hot" tension going on.

>To their credit it takes about like... a year and a half for them to finally hook up again, and then shit gets gross. They're just making out all the time, having cutesy little inside jokes during briefings, walking around the tower with shit-eating grins, it's unbearable. But also good for them. They are absolutely the team Mom and Dad and their shit is together.

>Eventually they get married and have Mar'i and they keep showing goddamn baby pictures to the league and the Titans when no one asked. The End. :)

#Dickkory #Robstar #At all hours of the day I'm trying to reconcile the 03 titans with all other DC canon #...you said 'headcanons' and I wrote out a goddamn biography #DC #DC comics

[sky-berrie]

Stitch - Damian

Summary: Another favorite trope - reader patches up a wound. Warning: mentions of blood. 

The window opened behind you and you felt a cool summer night breeze brush against your neck. You didn’t bother to give the intruder any attention because you knew that Damian was the only person who could disarm the alarm and crack lock mechanism with ease. You thought the whole system was overkill but it pleased Damian to have it installed so you didn’t complain.

“Hey, Damian,” you greeted him robotically with your gaze still transfixed to your laptop screen and your back to the window. You were watching the events of the latest episode of your favorite show unfold.

You heard Damian land in your room with a grunt. He was usually quite graceful, however you guessed that his ribs and hip were still sore from the last sparing session he had with his brothers and sisters. That family took everything to a whole other level.

You heard Damian shut the window after himself. The sound of the latch being secured came next. Then you heard electronic beeps as he reactivated the alarm. “You –” he let out a sharp exhale. “You took home economics, right?”

“Yeah,” you replied, nonchalantly with a mouthful of popcorn. You didn’t take your eyes off the screen, but you heard the sound of his heavy boots carry him across your room.

“Good,” he said. A shaky breath infiltrated his normally self-assured voice. “And you remember most of it?” The bed springs creaked under his weight.

“Uh, yeah, I guess so.”

“Great,” he said. “What grade did you receive?” This wasn’t all that out of character for him. Damian was competitive in all aspects of his life. You wouldn’t be surprised if he wanted to compare home economics grades just so he could vaunt his skills.

“I don’t know, Damian,” you said honestly. You turned up the volume, hoping that Damian would get the hint that you wanted to watch your show in peace and quiet. “I think it was a good mark.”

Damian let out a heavy sigh of relief. “Excellent.” His voice sounded less troubled than before.

“Jon did most of my assignments,” you admitted unapologetically.

Damian was quiet for a moment. “Okay, but you attended the classes, correct?”

You didn’t answer right away. You were too focused on the climax of the episode. “Oh my goodness,” you muttered under your breath to yourself as the plot twist unveiled. “Um,” you said, remembering that Damian had asked you something. “Yeah, yeah, more or less.”

“Do you remember how to sew?”

“Sort of,” you told him. You had sewn on a button once. It didn’t look great, but it definitely wasn’t going anywhere.

“Well enough,” he said. “I need you to suture a laceration.”

“What?” you choked out. He said it so nonchalantly that you weren’t sure if he was serious or not, because a sane person would not be so stoic. You whipped around to find Damian lying on your bed in his Robin uniform. It was soiled with a layer of black, like he had been charred. It was so dark that it masked the staining of his blood and you wouldn’t have known he was bleeding if it weren’t for the pool of red soaking through your white comforter. He was holding his side with his hands at an awkward angle.

You had seen him with cuts and bruises and even broken bones, but never with the life bleeding out of him. “Oh my goodness!” you shrieked as panic filled your lungs. Your face contorted into a horrified grimace as you tried to stifle an expression of disgust. The strong stench of metal made your stomach churn and your head woozy.

You immediately felt horrible for not paying attention to him sooner. “Damian, why didn’t you say something? Holy crap! What the hell happened? You need an ambulance!” You turned around to reach for your phone.

“No,” Damian choked out. “Secret… identity,” he said with his eyes squeezed shut.

“What about your brothers and sisters? Your dad? Alfred?”

“On their way. No time to wait. First aid kit,” he implored weakly.

You ran for the bathroom and tore into the cabinet to find the massive first aid kit that Damian insisted you store. You had opened it once or twice to grab a bandage for a paper cut but you never touched the majority of the contents. You didn’t even know what half of the kit was for. You guessed that you might find out today.

When you returned to your room, Damian was moving slowly to unbutton his uniform. You helped him with the rest, trying to do it quickly without jostling anything. You tried to ignore the squishy wetness of the uniform, but your hands came away covered in a layer of crimson blood. Beneath the outer coat, his white undershirt was seeping with blood. There was a large tear in the fabric and a bit of the raw wound peeked through.  

You didn’t have a fear of blood, really. You had no qualms about donating blood or seeing it on TV. This, however, was completely different. You were more terrified than you had ever been in your entire life. You had no idea what to do - everything you knew about CPR and standard first aid had inexplicably disappeared from your brain. Silent tears began to spill from your eyes as your breaths tore in and out of your throat, ragged and shallow.

“Y/N,” said Damian, firmly. Through your blurry, wet vision, you could see him straining to make eye contact with you. “Breathe. Everything is going to be fine. Just follow my instructions.”

Normally you trusted Damian, but this time his reassuring words didn’t have any kind of soothing effect on you. Your whole body was shaking now. You couldn’t find your voice. Instead, you shook your head.

“Yes, Y/N. It is going to be fine, but you must listen to me. Do you understand?”

You tried to take a deep breath, but an uncontrollable sob cut it short. If Damian could lie there halfway to death and still be composed, then you could at least pretend to be calm for his sake. You nodded your head this time, trying your best to even out your breathing. It was no use though. You couldn’t remember how to breathe.

“Thank you. Cut it,” he said, motioning to his undershirt.

You did as he ordered and cut a line right down the centre of his shirt. It was warm and wet and clung to his skin, so you peeled it off to reveal the full extent of a nasty looking wound. Even through your distorted, teary vision, you saw enough to know it was not good.

You felt faint at the sight of his insides. Or maybe it was your hyperventilating making you dizzy.  

“Breathe, Y/N. Breathe and then get the sterile solution to irrigate it.”

You returned with freshly washed hands, a pair of gloves and a jug of irrigation solution. Following his instructions, you squeezed the syringe and expelled the liquid over his wound. It ran down his side and carried even more blood into your comforter.

“Okay,” he breathed out. “There should be a small white packet with a curved need and thread and a pair of suture holders. They look like scissors but without the blades.”

Your trembling hands had a difficult time picking out the items. Once you collected the materials, you looked at Damian for further directions.

“It’s a bit deep so you’ll need to close the layer under the skin first. Can you see it?”

You shook your head. His side was a giant red mess. You couldn’t make out anything except for blood and jagged skin. It was nothing like the clean and clear-cut diagrams you’d seen in class. “This is crazy! I can’t do this,” you cried. People spent years studying and training to do procedures like this. Stitching up a body was not something that a person should wing, and definitely not on their best friend, lying in an unsterile room.

“You can,” he assured you. “Pretend like you’re sewing some fabric. Start with this layer here.” Damian pulled at his skin and pointed to the inside with a pair of suture forceps. You couldn’t help but turn away and shut your eyes as he prodded himself. “Y/N,” he called your attention back. “Make sure the needle goes in like this and comes out like this,” said Damian as he demonstrated.

You were shaking your head. “You are absolutely insane! Sewing fabric is nothing like sewing a wound! Can’t we just wait for your dad or someone?”

“No time,” he said.

“Please, Damian,” you begged. “Let me call EMS.”

“No,” he asserted with what little strength he had.

“Please! I…”

“No,” he repeated. You could tell his patience was wearing thin.

“I understand you have to protect your secret identity, but Damian, come on. There won’t be an identity to protect if you die.”

“Batman…Nightwing…” he said weakly.

“They’ll understand!” you argued with desperation.

“No,” he mumbled. He shook his head.

Without any thought, your next words came flooding out straight from your heart. “Damian, I love you and I don’t want you to die!” Oh. That came as a shock to you. You’d never said anything like that before. In fact, you’d never even had a thought like that, but you knew it was the truth. Your hands almost flew to cover your mouth in regret, but the blood dripping from your hands stopped you.

Damian didn’t seem to notice your confession, or if he did, he didn’t acknowledge it. Had you not been utterly distracted by the emergency before you, you might have run away with embarrassment from your sudden proclamation.

“Please try for me, okay?” His eyes were starting to close, but you could see him struggle to keep them open.

You searched his eyes, to see that his once vibrant green eyes had a dull, hazy colour to them. Seeming to find what you were looking for, you conceded. You swallowed a lump in your throat. “Okay.”

It was the worst experience of your life. Damian walked you through the process, but nothing could prepare you for the nauseating feeling of piercing his skin and pulling the nylon thread through the thickness of the tissue. Seeing the inside of his body made you want to vomit but his life was at stake, and you had to be brave for him. Besides, he was the one who should be worried, not you. Your technique was obviously non-existent and you were certain that you were hurting him a hell of a lot more than he was letting on. He hissed and groaned and you apologized profusely but he insisted that you continue.

“Thank you,” said Damian after you tied the last knot. His eyes were heavy and lidded and you could tell he was barely hanging on to consciousness. “Knew you could do it.”

You had no response. Now that the worst part was over, the adrenaline had left your system and you were in shock. His hand lolled out in an attempt to offer you comfort, or maybe to seek comfort for himself. You weren’t certain which is was, but nevertheless, you instinctively clasped his hand in yours.

Then he said something that caught you off guard. His voice was so faint that you barely heard him. “For the record, I love you, as well.”

You weren’t sure if he really meant it. Maybe he was delirious. He did lose a lot of blood. You pondered it for a moment and wondered if you should feel mortally embarrassed when he was fully lucid, but just then, a gentle squeeze on your hand told you that you didn’t have to worry.

#Damian Wayne #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x y/n #BatFam #batfam x reader #batfam x y/n #damian wayne imagine #batfam imagine #batboys #batboys x reader #batboys imagine #robinchicklets

[mischiefandspirits]

Bernard Figures It Out

Was reading through all the comments on @frostbittenbucky's post and all I could think of was that it was Bernard talking to Tim. Then I got to thinking...

"I've connected the two dots."

"You didn't connect shit."

"I've connected them."

Bernard figures out Tim's a superhero... sort of.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tim fidgetted nervously as he waited on the front porch of his boyfriend’s house. Bernard had sounded so serious when he’d called during Tim’s lunch to ask him to come over after work so they could talk about something.

Which Tim had done, after spending an entire board meeting just going over the past week trying to figure out what he’d done.

The only thing he could think of was that he’d ducked out halfway through their lunch date on Wednesday to give Duke some backup, but Bernard had seemed understanding when Tim explained there was an emergency at GRC Labs. It couldn’t have been a tipping point, either, since Tim had managed to only flake on three other dates over the past few months they’d been dating. Kate had been happy to cover for him as often as she could “out of queer solidarity” when she found out Tim was dating a boy for the first time and Tim had managed to trick Bruce into covering a few actual Wayne Enterprises emergencies for him when they came up.

There had to be a reason Bernard was breaking up with him, though. Had he missed something? He definitely wasn’t forgetting an important day. He was good with days and Tam was even better, so she would have reminded him on the off chance that he had forgotten.

What was he missing?

Bernard was smiling when he opened the door, but there was a nervous energy to it that had Tim’s stomach sinking. “Hey, Tim.”

“Hey.” Tim gave his own nervous smile then slipped inside.

They went into the living room and sat down on the couch.

Tim frowned when Bernard grabbed a manila folder off the coffee table. Crud, had he screwed up enough that Bernard had had to make a list? He knew he was new to dating a guy, but he hadn’t thought he’d done that bad. He’d really been trying, especially with how his and Stephanie’s relationship had fallen apart at the end. “What -”

“Just let me speak, Tim,” Bernard said, waiting for Tim’s nod. “Okay, so you know Clark Kent, right?”

Tim blinked as Bernard opened the folder to show a picture of Clark. It looked like one of the employee pictures from the Planet’s website, with his dorky “I’m just a humble country boy” smile and the golden globe from their roof photoshopped in as the background. “Uh, yeah? I think so. He works for the Daily Planet, right? I think he’s worked at a few of Bruce’s events. Not a lot of outside reporters are willing to come to Gotham.”

“Exactly!” Bernard said, snapping his fingers and pointing at Tim.

“What?”

He pulled out the picture to show the next page was an article titled, “DAILY PLANET REPORTER… BATMAN!?”

A wave of relief washed over Tim and he placed his face in his hands. “Were you up all night on the hero conspiracy boards again?”

“No. I mean, I found this on a board and was up all night thinking about it, but I found it reasonably early.”

“One in the morning isn’t reasonable, Bernard.”

“Says the guy who’s always wide awake when I call to infodump.”

“Touché.” Tim leaned against Bernard and gave him a smile. “So tell me, why is some reporter from Metropolis from all places Batman.”

“First of all, living in Metropolis is the perfect cover. Everyone assumes Batman would live in Gotham, no one would consider he could be from anywhere else. Metropolis is outside the GMA, but close enough that the commute is still possible.”

“But it’s Metropolis.”

“And who would think Gotham’s Dark Knight lives in the sunshine capital? Plus, I hear he disappears a lot on the job. There’s gotta be a reason for it!”

Tim made a note to let Clark know he needs to cut back on the disappearing act some since people are catching on.

“And have you seen the guy? He is swol AF, babe.”

“Please don’t call me babe while you’re talking about how hot another guy is.” Especially Tim’s honorary uncle.

“You know I prefer twinks.”

“BERNARD!”

“I’m just saying,” he continued, ignoring Tim’s shout. “The guy is definitely hiding something! Besides, Kent is an investigative reporter. He’s gotta know a lot about cases and the underground and detective work.”

Not as much as he likes people to think, but more than he likes people to know Superman does, Tim mused. “But what about the other vigilantes?”

“Well, Kent has a cousin…” Bernard flipped through a folder and pulled out a picture of Kara. It looked like a screenshot of her interviewing Lena for CatCo. “She’s obviously the latest Batgirl. Look at her hair. And the first Batgirl and the current Batwoman were obviously Lois Lane, the red hair is just a wig. Did you see how she kicked butt at that last event she went to? She’s not as subtle as Kent. That means their son is the latest Robin. He’s exactly the right size.”

Oh, Damian better not hear about this, Tim cackled internally. His youngest brother hated being reminded that Jon was the same height as him despite their two years age difference. Damian definitely took after Talia when it came to body type, no matter what he said.

“And Kent also has a brother.” This time he pulled out a picture of Kon. The clone must have been caught by a reporter out shopping with Ma since he was carrying some paper bags and glaring at whoever was behind the camera. “At least, he’s supposedly Kent’s brother, but he was a teenager when he first showed up with the Kents. A lot of people think he’s actually Kent’s son, that Kent got a girl pregnant when they were teenagers and something happened to the mom so Kent had to take him in. Now the Kents are trying to hide it by saying the two are brothers.”

That was… scarily accurate actually. Especially given Luthor and Clark were close friends at the time that Kon would have theoretically been born.

“And that beef would explain why the younger Kent brother went all crime lord on Gotham for a while before reconnecting with the family.”

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah, Kent Jr.’s got the perfect build for Red Hood.”

Tim bit back a comment on how Kon was shorter than Jason by a good foot. Timothy Drake-Wayne should not know that. Add Jason to the list of people who can’t hear this theory.

“And then there’s this girl,” Bernard picked up a picture of Lois, Jon, and Natasha Irons walking down the street together. “No one’s sure exactly who she is, but she’s been spotted with the Kents a few times. I think the cover story is that she’s Jon’s babysitter.”

“And the actual story?”

“She’s Black Bat, obviously. That’s why she wears a mask that fully covers her face. She doesn’t want to stand out as the only African American Bat.”

“Isn’t Signal also Black?”

“Yeah, but he works in the daytime so he’s already a standout.”

“And who is Signal in this? And what about Nightwing and Red Robin?”

“Well, Nightwing’s just a Blüd who came to Gotham. He doesn’t count.”

Ouch. Sorry, Dick.

“And Red Robin is obviously an older Robin, the one who was Robin when we were kids. Kent wanted to keep him on, and I don’t blame him. As for Signal, he’s got the same backstory as all the other Robins Kent picked up, he just went the Signal route because he didn’t fit the usual Robin mold.”

“Because the female Robin fit the mold,” Tim snorted. Robin Mold, as if he and his brothers were even the same ethnicity. Or even had the same hair color. Jason dyes his hair, Dick’s is brown-black, Tim’s is pure black, and Damian’s is more a dark brown and it’s only getting lighter as he gets older.

“She didn’t, that’s the point. Kent tried to give breaking the Robin mold a chance by letting his cousin have a go at it, but he realized it just didn’t work so she went back to being Spoiler and he got a new Robin.”

Not touching that with a ten-foot pole. “Right, and where does he get the usual Robins? Please tell me you’re not back on the secret government orphanages theory.”

“No, no, no. Kent travels sometimes for his job, right? And a lot of the time he’s going to places that have been hit by disasters or major crimes. So he’ll take in some of the displaced children to train as his robins.”

Tim pressed his face back into his hands.

“You see it, right?”

Honestly, Tim was just wondering how his boyfriend could be so close, and yet so far off. “How would Kent even afford taking care of a bunch of secret -- possibly illegally acquired -- children without anyone noticing?”

“Simple. Bruce Wayne is funding him.”

“Bernard, I love you, but what the heck?” Tim blushed and looked up as he realized what he’d said, but Bernard didn’t seem to notice as he steamrolled ahead.

“It’d also explain how he can afford all the gear and how he’d be able to travel to Gotham or anywhere else Batman goes without anyone noticing. He probably has a secret Batplane or something.”

“Why would Bruce do that?”

“Because Wayne cares about Gotham, everyone knows that, and this way he can make sure someone’s taking care of the city without anyone putting two and two together.”

“And two plus two is?”

Bernard gave him a hard look. “I’m not stupid, Tim. Bruce Wayne is obviously Superman. His face is right there.”

Oh, the others are going to love this! Too bad I can’t tell Damian or Jason. Jason especially would have loved this. “Right. Bruce is Superman.”

“He is. Superman is known for being nice and Bruce Wayne’s basically all that’s keeping the city running at this point. That’s nice as hell.”

Oh my god.

“And Wayne does charity for the victims of cataclysms, doesn't he? I bet he first saves people from them as Superman and then builds them new homes for free.”

Oh my god! Why am I not recording this!?

“And the Wayne’s were rich enough to hide the fact they adopted an alien baby.”

Tim raised an eyebrow. “If you’re about to tell me this is why Bruce’s parents got killed, you might want to stop while you’re ahead.”

“It’d make sense. There’re all sorts of unanswered questions about their deaths,” Bernard muttered under his breath, flipping through the folder. He pulled out another picture of Kara. This time she was in full Supergirl attire with a bus held overhead. “So if Wayne is Superman, then that’d mean your ex-girlfriend could be Supergirl. They look a lot alike and it’d explain how she got involved with you all.”

“Bernard, she has a human dad. You know, Cluemaster. The supervillain.”

“Yeah, her dad. But we don’t know anything about her mom!”

“Let me guess…”

Bernard pulled out a picture of Karen. She and Helena were suited up and talking to a group of cops, two goons held over each of Karen’s shoulders. “Her mom could be Power Girl! Some makeup and a wig and she could look just like Crystal Brown! And Damian Wayne is obviously the new Superboy! That’s why his background is such a mystery, right? He had to stay a secret until he could control his alien superpowers. That’s why he’s always so mean. It’s a cover since everyone knows Superboy is super sweet!”

Sure, when he’s not helping Damian pull pranks or using his adorable powers to put the blame on Kon and I. “No, Bernard. Damian and Steph are just very human hellspawn. And Bruce and Crystal are human too. I can’t believe you called me over here just to tell me you think Superman is both Batman’s sugar daddy and my adoptive dad.”

“Well, that’s not exactly why I called you over,” Bernard admitted, the nervous energy coming back. He grabbed Tim’s hands. “Tim -”

Tim’s stomach sank. “You are breaking up with me!”

“What? No! I don’t want to break up!”

“Why are you acting all nervous and serious then!?” Tim asked, pulling his hands away to throw them up in the air.

Bernard shook the folder. “Because I’m trying to tell you I figured out you’re Superboy!”

Tim’s brain blue-screened and his hands slowly dropped. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I know you’re Superboy. The older one, obviously. By the way, you and Damian really need to figure out separate names.”

Forget Jason and Damian, Kon can never find out about this. He’d never let me live it down. “Bernard, you called me a twink five minutes ago. Su-” Shoot, I can not risk getting Kon’s attention! “The older one might not be as big as Superman, but he’s not a twink.”

“Well, yeah, that’s the shapeshifting at work.”

“The what?”

“Obviously you Kryptonians can shapeshift. Why else would you look so much like humans?”

… Why do Kryptonians look so much like humans? Was there some - Wait, no! Break into the Fortress of Solitude for research later! Reassure your boyfriend that you’re not an alien now! “Bernard -”

“And that explains why your step-mom was so hot.”

“Gross.”

“She and your dad were actors hired by Luthor so you could have a normal life! But now Bruce has custody so he adopted you.”

“No.”

“That’s why you and your dad were so weird with each other when I met him.”

“We were weird because he’d just gotten out of a coma not long before to find that his wife was dead so he decided to actually be a dad for once in his life, but overcompensated and became a helicopter parent to a kid who was mostly on his own for his entire life!” Tim blurted out. “I am not an alien, Bernard!”

“Well, not technically since you were cloned from Superman on Earth.”

“Oh my god! You were just talking about Steph being Supergirl! Why would I date my dad’s cousin?”

Bernard blinked. “Supergirl and Superman are cousins?”

Right, Timothy Drake-Wayne wasn’t supposed to know that. “I thought they’d said something like that before, yeah. Are people seriously saying I’m Superboy on the internet?”

“NO! No, I swear I would have led with that if I thought your identity was compromised. A few people have mentioned Wayne and Damian, but not you or Steph or Jason.”

“Wh-Jason!? You think Jason was an alien too!”

“No, not exactly, but a few times when I’ve visited I swear I’ve seen a guy in the manor who looks like Jason. It’s just been out of the corner of my eye and he’s gone whenever I look so I’ve always thought it was just Dick or Bruce or some picture of Jason that my mind was playing tricks with, but it makes sense now that I know Wayne is Superman. He must have been able to heal Jason with alien tech, but couldn’t say anything because that would give away that he’s Superman.”

Damn it Jason! And damn it Bernard! I’m dating the smartest moron in the world! “Bruce did not bring Jason back with alien technology and none of us are aliens!”

“It’s okay, Tim. I won’t tell anyone.”

Tim grabbed Bernard by the jacket and pulled him into a kiss. When he started to feel lightheaded, he pulled back, “Could someone whose skin is as solid as stone kiss like that?”

Bernard blinked dazedly at him for a moment. “How do you know what Superboy’s skin feels like?”

Tim screamed internally. “He’s saved me from a kidnapping before.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I can get you the police report if you want.”

“Huh… And the others?”

“Not Supers. I can stab Damian the next time we’re at the manor if that’ll prove none of us are aliens.” He’d rather stab Jason, but that would probably only confirm to Bernard that Bruce used alien technology to bring him back.

“You probably shouldn’t stab your brother if he isn’t an alien.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “I won’t stab him anywhere deadly.”

“That’s not the point,” Bernard said slowly.

“He’ll be fine.”

“If you say so.”

“So do you believe I’m not an alien now?” Tim huffed, letting go of Bernard’s jacket.

The blond’s eyes dipped down to Tim’s lips. “If I say no, will you kiss me like that again?”

“You’re ridiculous,” Tim said, but he kissed him anyway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Okay, but I still say Clark Kent is definitely Batman.”

“Sure, Bernard.”

#Tim Drake #robin #red robin #bernard dowd #timber #fanfiction

[quillsareswords]

1:20

Damian Wayne x reader

SUMMARY: You're lucky you've memorized Robin's schedule: it might me the only saving grace you've got left.

WARNINGS: blood, near-death

Master List in bio

It's 1:20 on a Tuesday morning in early June.

Gotham never really gets hot, but the humidity suffocates anything that might think that's a relief. You didn't check the weather this evening. You probably should have.

It's 1:20 on a Tuesday morning. He's gonna be here. You've had mixed feelings about knowing his schedule this well in the past, but now it's the deciding factor of your fate.

It's 1:20. That means you've been bleeding like a stuck pig for ten straight minutes, even if it feels like it's been hours. Or seconds. You don't really know anymore. You're getting dizzy.

So you've leaned against the wall. Some little roof access point that stands tall above the gravel covering the rooftop. The brick digs into your shoulder, even through your jacket.

You're starting to think you've gotten it wrong. Or maybe he just didn't show today. Maybe you're out of luck this time.

It was dumb. Stupid to think that you could stop this. Stupid to think you would end any way other than alone.

It was on purpose, after all. Isolation, that is. You pushed and shoved everyone away with a friendly smile and kept them at arm's length, lest they wiggle their claws beneath your mask and expose you for every ugly thing you are.

You're a mole. An informant. Someone who plays every side all at once and somehow manages to stay neutral the whole time. You've been passing tips to the Bats for months now, means be damned. Trust was meager between you, but what little there is is mutual.

You'd hoped it'd be your saving grace. Hoped the side playing would leave you with at least one friend, even though it was the entire reason you're in this position in the first place. You had hoped your downfall would save you.

He appears before you two minutes late. 1:22 in the morning and he's late. He doesn't seem to have noticed you, a few feet away, surveying the street below him like it's his job (and it is), with his back to you.

"You're late, Birdy." Your voice comes quieter and rougher than it should, and the force it takes nearly sends you to the ground.

He spins around at the sound, hand already curled around the hilt of his sword by the time he faces you. He says your name lowly, like a warning, like always. His posture relaxes nonetheless. "You come with useful advice, I expect. The skirmish by the docks sounded quick, but Batman thinks–"

"I didn't know where else to go," you say suddenly, because you already know you aren't going to be conscious long enough for this conversation.

The effort gets you this time. Your knees, shaky as they've been, finally give out. You understand, and you forgive them; they carried you all the way here, after all. Your body turns on the way down, back of your jacket scraping terribly against the brick as your heels slide through the gravel. The noise you make is somewhere between a groan and a cry.

It rips the breath out of his lungs. Your name is in his mouth again as he drops to his knees beside you, gloved hands already pawing at the hand you have clamped around the knife still sheathed into your side.

"What happened?" he demands, and he's reaching for his pager with the other hand. "Who did this?"

You're too focused on the way your first name sounds in his voice. There's something nice about the way he spaces the syllables.

He says it again, all panic and worry, like he hasn't the time to mask it anymore.

You wonder for a moment if it has anything to do with his lingering stares and gruff get home safe's.

But then he's shaking your shoulder and you're wincing because it's bruised beneath the jacket.

"Stay awake, hey, stay with me. Batman is on his way. We'll fix this." There's a pause where he's sucking in a deep breath and you're trying to focus on his voice. "You're going to be fine."

You think it's a little funny. You managed to get all the way here, up a goddamn fire escape, but the moment you think he's got you, you lose all ability to keep yourself upright. You just want to sleep. You want to lay down and take a nice, long nap.

You hate to admit that it just might be because you trust him more than anyone else you know. You've only known him for a few months, but you're sure that you're safest with him. You're safe with him.

It shouldn't be much of a comfort, with Death staring you down like a lion on it's last meal. You won't need protecting if your decline doesn't level out soon. It's surprising what such little comfort feels like when you're staring Death down like a gazelle with an attitude problem.

You don't remember being moved. Or how you ended up in a medical bed with stiff, scratchy sheets and a nearly flat pillow. You do remember hearing Damian's voice, fading in and our with your consciousness. The words are all garbled and quiet, but you know the recall the sound.

Alfred is the first person you see. He's unfamiliar, but he introduces himself and offers you a warm smile and a glass of water. He brings you a bowl of soup and hands you a bottle of painkillers and another of antibiotics.

You fall asleep again, listening to some little body of water just outside the white room you're settled in.

When you wake up, it's to the sound of an argument. Batman and Robin. It's hushed, angry and patient whispers back and forth, but it's an argument all the same. You've heard them bicker enough over the last few months to recognize it.

You can't quite make it out. You hear your name a few times, something about time, something about healing, something about help. Batman finishes it.

Robin swings the squeaky door open a few moments later.

He stops halfway into the room when he sees you're awake.

You wiggle your way up the mattress to lean against the pillows behind you. "Birdy."

He sighs. "You nearly bleed out in my arms and that's how you greet me?"

He doesn't sound quite right. A little deflated, maybe. Relieved? As if he'd been holding his breath before he entered the room, and just remembered how to breathe when he caught your eye.

Course, you can't be sure he caught it at all, with those white lenses.

You cock a shoulder. "I'm sure you've seen worse. I'm sure I'll have worse."

His posture shifts as he crosses the room. He shakes his head. "That's not funny."

"It's kind of funny," you try, throwing the best carefree smile you can manage when everything beneath your skin is so sore. "I'm the one who was bleeding, that means I'm allowed to make all the jokes I want."

"That's an unhealthy coping mechanism."

"So is dressing up in red and yellow and calling yourself a bird."

His shoulders drop again. You think you might see a smile, but he turns his head away too quickly. "You should be more careful. I can't always be there to drag you out of every fire, you know."

You cross your arms, raising both knees to take some pressure off of your abdomen. He takes it as an invitation and makes himself comfortable in the chair beside the bed. He finds a comfortable position with a little too much familiarity. "I don't expect you to. I wouldn't have even been there if I wasn't getting information for you."

"For Batman–"

"Potato, pa-tot-oh."

He goes rigid again. "I never would have asked you to put yourself in danger like that."

It's defensive. Appalled, almost. Offended.

You don't know how to reply. That doesn't seem to matter though, because he's not done.

"And even if I had, I would have gone with you. I would have made sure you had backup, I would have– this never would have happened."

There's a certain distain in his tone that catches you off guard. A resentment, toward you or his partner you aren't totally sure.

He runs gloved fingers through slick black hair. Heaves a breath. Pushes himself to his feet. Falsely composed. "You may stay as long as you need. Alfred will take care of you."

"Where are you going?" It slips out before you can stop it. And perhaps you could play if off as a standard question—you are in an unfamiliar place, with unfamiliar people, aside from him—but it's much too quick. It sounds a little too much like don't leave me.

And you know he hears it too, because he turns back around so quickly you wonder if he even considered it. "Patrol. It's Wednesday night." And yet he makes to move to leave.

You nod. "Right. Yeah. You're, uh, what? You're over by the city museum tonight, aren't you?" You want to smack yourself. What are you doing, making small talk? He's got places to be, people to save.

"Yes." The top seal of his mask flexes when he raises an eyebrow.

You nod again. An awkward smile on your lips. "I, uh, I didn't know how to feel about knowing where you'd be most of the week, but I guess I'm glad I do. Saved my skin last night, didn't it?"

He drawls in a deep breath. "Suppose it did."

There's a long pause. You aren't sure if you're breathing, but you're sure he isn't. He looks tense, like he's torn between saying something and leaving, body angled not quite toward you.

"You can always come to me," he says suddenly. He must read something on your face, because he tumbles straight into the next sentence. "Last night, you said you didn't know who to go to. I'm telling you now, you can always come to me. I'll fix it, whatever it is."

His voice is tight. A little unsure, but not in the statement. Like a hiker on a rocky trail; unsure of his footing, but certain in his destination.

There's something else in his words. Something scrawled between the lines in thin, fragile letters. Something deeper than wounds and needing backup.

I'll fix it, whatever it is.

Your heart rate picks up, and the heart monitor reveals your secrets on the screen beside you. What it can't reveal is the way the poor organ soars, throwing itself to the clouds with reckless abandon, completely uncaring of the hard trip back down.

You still don't know how to reply. You'd like to say something witty. A little sarcastic, maybe a smidge mean. He's giving you a glimpse at his heart, beating bloody in his hands, and there's a large part of you that wants to poke it. Nothing too wounding, just enough that he never makes the mistake again.

But you can't help it. There's a much larger part of you that wails, who wants to snatch it from him to shield and cradle, because he obviously can't be trusted with it. Not if he's baring it to you.

The deciding party is the reminder of last night. Dragging yourself up a rusted fire escape, praying to anyone who might listen that he'd be there. That he'd help you. You remember thinking he wouldn't. You remember the thought hanging above you like gravediggers as you settled into a coffin: you pushed everyone away, you don't leave room for those who want to help you.

"Thank you," you attempt, and it comes barely above a whisper. You allow it to be tender. You let it embody the raw little piece of you that utters it; the piece that wants so desperately to let him in. The piece that knew he'd save you. The tender little sliver of soul who still believed you deserved to be trusted and supported. The one who still hopes for meaningful connections, even among your collection of throw-away contacts.

You can see the way he relaxes. The way he melts inside his skin, like he'd been expecting you to poke when you could have. Like it lifts a weight off of him, knowing that you'll trust him enough to come to him in the future.

"I'll be back in a few hours. You should sleep."

You roll your eyes. "Sleep in some weird ass white room I've never been in, surrounded by a bunch if people I barely know. Yeah, I'm sure I'll sleep like a baby."

He recognizes that you aren't entirely serious, but he also recognizes the orange pill bottles on the table beside you. "If Alfred has you on those, I trust you will—no matter where you are."

You chuckle, he offers you the tiniest smile, and then he's gone. Vanished into the rest of whatever strange building he whisked you into.

You should be worried about it. Not knowing where you are, exactly who you're with, who has access to you. But you aren't. And it might be the medication making you compliant, and you'll look back on this in a week and be horrified—or it could be that you've broken all your own rules and thrust all if your trust into the hands of a boy you've never seen without a mask.

#damian wayne #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne x reader

[marauderundercover]

Taking Chances Ch. 25: Fighting Alone (Grounded)

AO3

Prev

Marinette was exhausted. Adrien’s father had sent him out of Paris for a week for some fashion show that he couldn’t be bothered to go to in person. Instead, he had Natalie with Adrien. Since Marinette herself wasn’t in Paris, she usually wouldn’t mind Adrien’s week-long trip. Except, she wasn’t in Paris. And now, neither was Chat Noir. Which means for nearly a week, she’d been sneaking out of her dad’s house at random times to do patrols in Paris. Luckily, there hadn’t been any akuma attacks. She knew her dad would be beyond angry if she was the only one to show up for an attack. And if he knew that she knew about Adrien’s absence ahead of time and didn’t ask any of her family to help? She’d been in big trouble. Even more if he knew she’d been not only going on patrol in Gotham under his supervision, but also in Paris. Getting next to no sleep. So yeah, she was ready for a nap. Just as her eyes are about to close, the shrill akuma alarm screams from her phone. Groaning, she sits up. 

“Marinette, you’re exhausted.” Tikki admonishes her, her tiny arms crossed. 

“Tikki, I have to do this. I’m sorry, and I promise I’ll sleep when we get home.” Marinette says, giving her friend a pleading look. Tikki huffs, letting her little arms drop. 

“Fine, but when we get back you are going to talk to your father and stay home from patrol tonight.” She says. Marinette frowns, but quickly agrees. It never went well arguing with the goddess of creation. 

“Tikki, spots on!” She says, letting the warmth of her transformation flow over her. She glances at Kaalki. “Ready?” She asks. The Kwami nods and Marinette combines the transformations, quickly opening a portal and dropping into Paris. She could do this. 

---

The sudden blaring of the akuma alarm breaks Bruce from his thoughts. He raises an eyebrow and quickly pulls up the newsfeed of the attack, letting it play in the background as he continues working. 

“Ladybug has just arrived on scene! No direct confirmation on the akuma’s powers yet. We just have to hope it’s a weak one today folks as it appears speculation is correct and Chat Noir is not currently in Paris.” The reporter says, making him snap his attention to the video. His jaw tenses and his phone starts ringing and flooding with text messages. No doubt the boys were also watching the video. He answers the phone as he swiftly walks towards the elevator. Work could wait. Right now he needed to get home and take the Zeta tubes to Paris. 

“Hello.” He says, not even bothering to look at the caller id. 

“How many of us are going to Paris?” Dick asks. Bruce frowns. 

“I will be going alone.” He says. Dick snorts. Bruce hits the button for the garage, shifting impatiently in the small space. He could’ve taken the stairs, but he had a reputation to uphold. He couldn’t sprint down the stairs like he could as Batman. People would talk. 

“Yeah right, B. There’s no way you’re gonna get Jay and Little D to agree to that. You know the three have been attached at the hip lately.” Dick reminds him. 

“Will you please monitor the tubes until I get there? I don’t want your brothers rushing off and doing something stupid.” He says. 

“Sure can, B.” Dick says. Bruce hangs up the phone and stares at the number indicating the floor the elevator is on. The second it switches to ‘B’, he’s prepared and storms through the door, not slowing until he’s in the car. He pulls up the news feed immediately, pushing down on the gas as he drives through the city. 

“It’s been confirmed that the current akuma has a sword and appears to be skilled with the weapon. Ladybug herself has urged citizens to remain in their homes until this battle is over.” The reporter says. Bruce curses under his breath and pushes the gas pedal down even more. Almost there. Almost there. The car alerts him to a phone call and he answers. 

“Father, why have you locked us out of the Zeta tubes?” Damian demands, his voice harsh. “The akuma has a sword, Marinette is not skilled with a sword yet.” 

“Damian, I don’t want you or Jason going to Paris. I already told Dick that I’m the only one going.” Bruce explains, pulling the car over at the front of the manor and switching the call to his cellphone as he rushes into the house. 

“Yeah B, that’s what Dick said before we tied him up. But how the hell did you lock us out of the tubes? Even Timmy can’t figure it out.” Jason says, and Bruce freezes. She wouldn’t. She…. she couldn’t, right? 

“Jason, untie Dick and have him put in my alternative password.” Bruce orders, rushing through the manor to get to the entrance of the cave. If his suspicions were right, his daughter had managed to shut down the Zeta tube in the Batcave. And maybe even halted any attempts to enter Paris. 

“Still not working, B.” Tim’s frustrated voice comes through the phone. Damnit. Bruce storms into the cave, slipping only a domino mask on. Protocol be damned, his daughter was in danger. He hangs up the phone as he storms in, walking past his sons and straight to the tube. He quickly changes the destination to the watch tower and steps through, ignoring his son’s protests. Once at the tower, he tries Paris. And then he tries again. How the hell had she managed that? He quickly returns to the Batcave, looking at his sons with a tense face. 

“Somehow, your sister has cut off the Zeta tubes’ ability to go to Paris.” He says with a clenched jaw. 

“Why the hell would she do that?” Jason asks, looking both angry and hurt. 

“Does she not trust us?” Dick asks, frowning. Bruce pinches the bridge of his nose, trying hard not to yell. He wasn’t mad at his sons. They hadn’t done anything. His youngest daughter, on the other hand. 

“I’m sure she does. But I’m also sure that this is her idiotic way of keepin all of us safe. Even if it’s a danger to her.” Bruce says, glancing at the giant computer screen where the battle was playing out live. The boys had muted it, and Bruce was glad. Glad that he didn’t have to listen to the reporter constantly mentioning that this was dangerous and that Ladybug was alone. She didn’t have to be alone. But she was, and he had no way to help her. 

---

Damian Wayne is not one to give up. He had been trained by the best of the best his entire life, and he refused to back down from a fight. Especially one where his sister was so obviously unqualified. His thoughts rush through his head as he attempts to find a different path, a different way to go and assist his sister. He nods slightly as it comes to him. This could work. 

“I will be upstairs, if you need me.” He informs his family, ignoring the questioning. They would only slow him down. He remains in his uniform though, no need to cause panic while he goes through with his plan. Once he is out of the cave, he calls out: “Jon? I require your assistance.” He walks outside the manor and stands just outside the front door, waiting for his acquaintance- friend- to arrive. 

“What’s up?” Jon asks, hovering slightly above the ground. 

“We are needed in Paris and the Zeta tubes are down. Care to join me?” Damian asks, and Jon grins. 

“Let’s go!” He says excitedly, grabbing Damian and flying away from Gotham. Damian briefly wonders if he should have told his Father his plan. After all, he had his own friend- acquaintance- with the ability to fly. Hmm. He doesn’t bother thinking on the subject long as the Eiffel tower comes into view. He scans the ground quickly, looking for the tell-tale red and black of his sister’s uniform. 

“Have you spotted Ladybug?” He asks Jon. He had shown Jon videos of previous battles, in case he ever needed assistance to find Ladybug rather than Ladybird. 

“Found her! Wanna drop in?” Jon asks. Damian nods and Jon flies over, the two landing right behind Ladybug. She whirls around, a shocked look on her face. 

“Really, Robin?” She snaps. Finally able to look at her up close, instead of through a screen, he is able to see the exhaustion on her face. And how worn down she looks. 

“You blocked the others from assisting. I had no such trouble. Now, let's finish this.” He says, pulling out his katana and shifting his position. She could be angry at him later, right now they had a job to do. 

---

“-and reckless, and totally irresponsible and-” Damian cuts off her ranting. 

“Are we still discussing my actions, or yours?” He asks, quirking an eyebrow. Marinette glares at her little brother, dropping down to sit on her bed, slouching her shoulders. She was tired. 

“There’s a reason I blocked the Zeta tubes from going to Paris during attacks, Damian.” She sighs, running a hand over her face. She cared about her brothers and her father and Cass. She really did. But while she loved them, Paris was her fight. She needed to get through the battles alone. Or with Adrien.

“No matter the reason, it was still reckless. And Father-” Damian starts, but is cut off. 

“Is very angry.” Her dad says, and Marinette winces. She turns towards her door, smiling awkwardly at her dad. 

“Hey, Dad, uh, fancy seeing you here.” She says, laughing awkwardly. 

“How long has Adrien been away?” He asks. 

“Only a week.” 

“And you have been patrolling both Gotham and Paris during that time, correct?” He asks, and she sighs. 

“Yes.” 

“I see. How much have you slept this week?” He asks. She opens her mouth to respond when Tikki zips out. 

“Twelve hours. Total.” She rats her out, and Marinette huffs at the Kwami. Traitor, she thinks, but doesn’t say it. 

“You also messed with the Zeta tubes.” He says and she purses her lips. 

“Paris is my fight, Dad.” Marinette says, standing by her decision. 

“You made it nearly impossible for any of us to help you. What would have happened if this had been another akuma that killed you? Marinette, no one would have been there to take the earrings. No one to cast the cure. You would have stayed dead, Marinette. And we would have been stuck here watching it happen, unable to protect you.” Her dad lectures her, and she can tell by the tension in his shoulders that he’s mad. Really mad. More than the Batmobile incident or the sneaking off to the Watchtower. Really, really mad. 

“But-” She starts, almost glad when he cuts her off as she didn’t really have a good comeback for him. 

“You are grounded. You have to take one of us with you to Paris when there’s an attack until Adrien returns. And you’re benched on patrol here. If you insist on patrolling in Paris while Adrien is away, you will also take one of us with you. Do I make myself clear?” He asks, and she wants to argue. She’s a hero, she knows the risks. She knows that she could handle that akuma alone and if she couldn’t, she would have brought in a temporary hero. She would’ve been fine. But then she looks at the tension in his shoulders and remembers the time that her whole family watched her die. On tv. Remembers that her dad has had to go through the death of a child too many times, even if they’d all come back (and formed the aptly named chaos trio), he’d still had to watch them die. So she decides she’ll accept the punishment, will go along with the new guidelines. If only to give her dad a little peace of mind.

Next

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