#damian and jason should know better than to reveal their weaknesses | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

arty-shadow-morningstar · 3 years

Text

My Maribat Betrothal AU: Take Two

Okay so people like that post that is more of a train wreck produced by my sleep-deprived brain. I expanded on it and added some changes. Fair warning: Most of my ML and DC knowledge came from Maribat fics, a few episodes and the DCU movies like son of Batman. I have Mari's pov and background stuff written and it needs some editing. Anyways, enjoy <3

It is not a continuation but: @alysrose-starchild, @buginetye, @lookatthestars1, @blackroserelina, @macncheesemonster, @mochinek0

[Masterlist]

(Part 2)

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

PART 1

Damian groaned.

He was not having a good day.

First, Father decided to pair him with Todd, TODD of all people, for patrol.

Second, while doing a stake-out for the warehouse near the docks which might be used as storage for criminal activity and enduring Red Hood's annoying taunts, they both were knocked out by tranquilizers and his mother's face was the last thing he had remembered seeing.

"Don't worry, little one. You are just fulfilling your duties as heir to the Demon's Head. Then, all will be perfect." She had said, just before he fully lost consciousness.

Third, he woke up to being chained up with a major headache. Taking a bearing of his surroundings, the room he was imprisoned in had two exits, an iron door and a window that had the view of his childhood home. He was dressed in wedding ensembles of the League of Shadows. Red Hood was chained up next to him as well but unlike him, still had his suit and helmet on. Glancing to the other side, he saw a raven-haired girl, chained up and dressed in the black and gold robes of a bride. She had also retained consciousness and was staring at him.

Bluebell eyes met his piercing green.

His betrothal was petite with Asian features. She had freckles dotting her button nose and rosy cheeks.

She is fragile and will break easily, he thought. Why did his mother want him to marry such a weakling?

"Savez-vous où nous sommes? (Do you know where we are?)" Her voice was sweet and trembling with fear. Her eyes were wide and seemed filled with innocence yet carrying great sadness. She was an Angel, an ordinary girl, not fit for this harsh and unforgiving world she was forcefully going to get married to.

She opened her mouth to ask another question and suddenly, she went limp, appearing to be unconscious. Damian furrowed his brows in confusion. Why did she-

A moment later, he heard footsteps approaching and the iron door opened to reveal his mother.

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

Jason woke up to the sight of the Bitch Talia and Demon Spawn, face to face, glaring at each other.

Talia broke the tense silence.

"Damian, I hope you know what you should do."

"To be forcefully married to that little girl. She is no one special. Why am I getting married to her?"

Married? The Demon Spawn is getting married?!

Jason saw through his helmeted vision, a girl about Damian's age, chained up like them but not yet awake. He raised his hand and saw the shackles around his wrists. The chains were connected to the wall. He experimentally yanked the chains, drawing Talia’s attention.

“Well, Jason, you are awake. You can be the best man for the wedding.”

“No. I don’t know what game you are playing but you better release us. B is gonna find us and you will pay. Let the girl go. She is innocent in all of this.” Jason said vehemently.

"Ladybug may not seem like it but she possesses great power that my father converted for centuries. Speaking of, she should be awake by now."

Talia stood up and grabbed Ladybug’s(?) hair and yanked so that her eyes met the girl's. The girl, who unfortunately was going to be the Demon Spawn's bride, lets out a cry and starts to tear up. Jason felt anger at how she was being treated, seeing the girl as a little sister already.

"Tch, See, she is more pathetic than I thought. She is not powerful." Demon Spawn growled out. The girl starts babbling in French. From the little French Jason knows, she was begging for mercy.

“Like I thought, weak. She is not deserving of the title of my wife.” Damian spat out.

"Appearance can be deceiving. Despite her demeanor, she is the current wielder of the Ladybug Miraculous and the Current Guardian. The old Guardian, the old fool had promised her in exchange for his protection." Talia countered, letting go of the girl.

Miraculous? Guardian? What the hell?

"That doesn't mean I want to marry her. She is not worthy of an Al Ghul or a Wayne. Look at her, crying at the slightest feeling of pain."

The mother and son begin to bicker. Damian refusing to marry and Talia trying to change his mind.

“Yes, both have to be willing to be married but the curse placed on both of you will ensure that you will agree.”

The dark haired girl had stopped crying and started whispering in a strange language when the fight started, fiddling with the silver ring she wore. Jason saw a terrifying smile crossed the face of the girl across him that chilled him to the bones. Later, a black blur came out of her robes and went through the door. He wondered if he imagined that before he was a determined glint in her eyes.

He blinked.

Talia was choking on the chains that were previously chained to the wall and were now around her neck. Fortunately for them, Talia had closed the door after her entrance and the guards most likely to be stationed outside didn’t storm into the cell. The girl whispered something in Talia's ear, making the woman's eyes widen with what could be fear.

The experienced assassin struggled to get free and gain an upper hand on the girl but was unsuccessful, passing out from the lack of oxygen and strangely strong grip of the small girl.

What happened next was surprising. She breathed hard on her shackles which instantly disintegrated into flakes of rust.

Holy Shit! Demon Spawn's girl is magic. Jason knows his mouth was hanging open under his helmet at that realization. Damian seems to be in the same state.

Talia didn't have the keys to the locks. Being crafty like that. Bitch

"Call me Lady." she said in lightly accented English as she summoned black orbs at the tip of her hands. “Stay still.”

She then proceeds to place her hands on Jason’s shackles, turning them into nothing more than specks.

"I am Red Hood." said Jason, rubbing his wrists.

"The little shit here," as he kicked Damian's leg, " is-"

"Damian Al Ghul" she said the last name with venom. She moved on to Damian's bonds. "Son of that bitch over there, grandson of Ra's, demon heir, blah blah blah. Hold still, mon mignon. I am sure you don't want to lose a hand."

Damian stopped moving at that, due to the pet name or fear Jason couldn’t tell but by the red at the tips of his ear, it could be the former. And she used her powers to free him.

Lady somehow managed to use what remained of the chains to hog tie Talia up.

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

“How do we get out?” Damian asked, inspecting the blade that he flinched from his mother.

“Hey, kit.” A nasally voice called out. “I checked out the place we are in. Like you asked. The way to the Throne room is heavily guarded and they seem to think old Ra’s the target. The Pits are guarded too but they are nothing you can’t handle.”

“What is that?” Jason shrieked.

“Thanks, Plagg, you will get that camembert danish when we get back. This is a kwami, a god of sorts and his thing is destruction so I wouldn’t insult him if I were you. He likes to go by Plagg”, answered Lady, which doesn’t clear up Jason’s confusion.

“So, Pigtails, what’s the plan?” The floating, black cat-shaped god(?) asked.

“I was thinking of destroying the Pits to give Al Ghul a middle finger and call Maman to use the Horse to get home.”

“We need Tikki to get rid of it..”

“I will just tell Maman to bring the earrings.”

Damian snorted, “That sounds like a foolish plan. You are insane and not strong enough to take on the League alone, despite having a ‘god’ of destruction at your side. This Tikki or magic earrings will destroy the Pits, many have tried. And sorry to disappoint but no horse can make it up the mountainside of Nanda Parbat.”

“Have to agree with Demon Spawn here and I rarely do that. Your plan sounds insane, Pixie. You are just one girl. Let us help, we know the League better than you. We can come up with a better one.” Jason was worried for the girl, she was crazy if she thought her plan would work.

Lady smirked, “It is a perfectly sound plan. I know what I am talking about. Despite the weak girl act, I am no Damsel in distress. After this is all over, we will split our ways and hopefully, never see each other again.”

“We can’t separate. My mother said there is a curse that will ‘make us fall in love.’” Damian said, using air quotes. “You need to come with us so we can get someone to break it.”

“Fine. But I need to do something before I am coming with you. Plagg, Claws out.”

Bright green light flashed around her and she was now dressed in a black bodysuit with green linings. It was armoured at the chest, knees and elbows. (Add whatever details you want, I can’t do it. Jacket, designs, use your imagination) Her gloves were claws-like, reminding them of Selina and there was a belt carrying some vials, pouches and throwing stars. Her hair was now longer and braided and seemed to move on its own. Cat ears were attached to her head. Her eyes were changed so the sclera were the same shade of blue as her iries and the pupils were slitted like a cat. A black domino mask framed her face. Two ten-inch daggers appeared out of thin air in her hands.

The transformed Lady did the inhuman feat of kicking the door open. The assassins stationed outside were immediately knocked out by Lady.

“Well, are you coming or not?” She called out, before running down the corridor. Jason patted his shocked brother’s shoulder, “You doing okay there, demon spawn?”

“Tch, Let’s go, Todd.” Damian replied, trying to get rid of that funny feeling in his chest.

#damian x marinette #maridami #mlb x dc #maribat #daminette #betrothal au: take 2

870 notes · View notes

dccomicsimagines · 4 years

Text

What’s Lost is Found - Batfamily Imagine - Part Nine

Warning - Depressive Thoughts, Angst Content

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Six.Five Part Seven Part Eight Part Ten Part Eleven

Requested by Anon - I really love the batdad concept,it's so cute! I was just wondering,are we going to have some flashbacks of Bruce being a dad to (y/n) in What's Lost is Found?

***

“We’re here,” Jon whispered as he dropped out of the clouds to fly low. Your heart skipped a beat when you took your face out of his neck to see the manor again. A wave of joy and relief washed over you. Home.

“You know the secret entrance to the cave, right?” You pointed down at a rock by the lake.

Jon hummed, flying toward it. “Yeah, it’s how I met Damian back when we used to hang out.” You tightened your arms around his neck as he hit the rock at full speed. The two of you went through it and flew down a dark tunnel. “I remember when Damian first told me about the holographic rock. I didn’t believe him.”

“Oh, I know.” You laughed despite everything. “We made fun of you through the camera as you poked at it before you toppled down the tunnel.”

Jon smiled for the first time since you left prom. “I figured.” He sobered once he got to the end of the tunnel and flew into the cave. Much to your surprise, the lights were on. The batcomputer running data. Someone sat in the batcomputer’s chair. Your heart went into your throat, thinking it was your dad for a moment before you told yourself it wasn’t.

The person in the chair turned when Jon landed behind them. “Oh, Mx. Wayne,” Lucius said, blinking in surprise. He frowned at Jon. You tried to get out of Jon’s arms, but he wouldn’t let you go.

“Jon, it’s Lucius. It’s fine,” you whispered in his ear. He relaxed and set you on your feet. “Hi, Lucius. What’s happening?” You went over to the computer, frowning at the footage from across the city.

Lucius turned back to the computer. “Well, the city is under siege.” He brought up security video from Wayne Tower. A figure you knew led in a group of mercenaries. Your heart stopped at the sight.

“Is that Bane?” Jon caught you before your knees gave out.

“We’re not sure. Batgirl is working to get a confirmation.” Lucius gave you a look of concern. “I was under the impression you were retired, Mx. Wayne.”

“Not now.” You swallowed hard. “Did you call in the Justice League?”

Lucius pursed his lips. “No, there appears to be a number of disasters around the world. The Justice League has their hands full.” You pulled away from Jon and went to the computer.

“This was set up.” You frowned, accessing the second keyboard on the batcomputer. “There is no way all this could happen at once.”

Jon pressed close to your back, hovering rather protectively. “You don’t know that.”

You glared at him to back off, but he stayed where he was. “There was a breakout at Stryker's Island and Blackgate. An earthquake in Peru and Japan. Plus there is a terrorist attack in Atlantis. All this on top of Gotham under siege. This is not a coincidence.”

Lucius hummed. “You are very much like your father, Mx. Wayne.” He frowned at the computer, bringing up footage of Gotham General Hospital. A tank-like batmobile crashed through the soldiers’ blockade around the hospital. Damian jumped out of one of the hospital’s windows and glided down into the batmobile. You relaxed, knowing he was safe.

“Your design?” You pointed at the batmobile.

“Yes, your father requested it before...well.” Lucius folded his hands, smiling as Damian drove off. Jon breathed down your neck. His arm wrapped around your waist. Irritation build up inside, but you ignored it.

“I’m surprised you’re here in the cave, Lucius. We closed it up.” You flipped through the other footage, trying to get a better view of Bane-looking figure. Jon’s arm tightened enough to hurt. You put your hand on his. He relaxed.

“I was evacuated here along with some of our...more sensitive projects when we received intelligence about the siege.” Lucius frowned, bringing up the police scanner. “Oh dear.”

“We got 10-71 on 45th and 3rd. Gotham Gazette is on fire.” The police scanner beeped as another voice cut off the first. “10-72. Firefighters are trapped in the building by a 10-32.”

You pulled away from Jon. “Is anyone able to help them?”

Lucius shook his head. “No, Batman, Red Hood, and Batwoman are on the docks stopping more soldiers from entering the city. Red Robin and Spoiler are defending the police station. Batgirl is trailing the Bane lookalike. Orphan, Bluebird, and Signal are preventing Two Face’s bank robberies. Huntress, Batwing, Starfire, and Nightwing are MIA.”

“What?” Your blood ran cold. Jon’s arm tightened around your waist again. “Dick and Kori are here?!”

Lucius nodded. “Yes, we lost track of them two hours ago after they went to stop the Penguin’s gun smuggling ring.” He got to his feet.

“We have to go.” You turned to look at Jon. Jon’s eyes were wide. He shook his head. “Jon, we have to go. They need us.”

“No, this is too dangerous. We know this is all because of you. They’re doing this to get you.” Jon cupped your cheek, looking you in the eye. He was more serious than you ever seen him before. For the first time, you couldn’t see the puppy dog elements that you loved about him.

You shook your head, pulling away from him. “So what? People need help.” You headed over to the display case that held Jason’s Robin suit. “I’ll use this since my suit doesn’t fit anymore.”

“You won’t have to do that, Mx. Wayne,” Lucius said. You looked back at him in surprise. He smiled and gestured over to a huge case next to the batcomputer. The Wayne Tech logo made your heart skip a beat. “I have something for you. Consider it a graduation gift if you will.”

“(Y/N).” Jon grabbed your arm as you headed over to the case. “Please. We have to stay out of this.”

“Do you know something I don’t?” You spun to him. Rage sparked in your heart again. “Because my family is out there in danger! We have to help them!”

Jon sighed deeply. “Fine.” He closed his eyes. You pulled your arm away from him, wondering if your relationship with Jon will ever be the same again. Tears burned your eyes, but you focused on what was important. You pressed your hand against the bioreader of the case. It beeped, registering your name and opening to reveal a brand new high tech Robin suit.

It took your breath away. “Oh my.”

Lucius chuckled. “Get ready, Mx. Wayne. We need you out there.” You timidly took the suit out, feeling the armor and tech. It was the suit you always dreamed of. You turned to go to the changing area, brushing against Jon as you past him.

“(Y/N).” Jon followed you into the changing room. You sighed, undressing even though he was there. He fell silent, blushing and turning his back to you. He took off his shirt, revealing his Superboy suit underneath.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about anything of this,” you hissed, slipping on the suit. It was like a second skin. The tech turned on at your biological signature. You put the mask on, finding it suddenly connected to the batcomputer.

Jon groaned, spinning to face you in his full Superboy suit. “I couldn’t. This is so much bigger than we thought. I didn’t even know about all this until just before prom and that’s only because it was decided you would stay with us longer.”

Your hands clenched into fists. Rage ate you alive along with the worry for your family. Dick and Kori were MIA. You knew they could take care of themselves, but why did you have to cause all this? Why did you kill Bane? Why did your father have to die? “I can’t talk about this now. We have to go. Those firefighters need our help.” You marched out of the changing room.

“As you can tell, the suit is connected to the batcomputer. It also increases your strength and agility.” Lucius smiled at you in the suit with pride. “I would give you more detailed instructions, but we need you to learn as you go.”

You nodded. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.” You turned to Jon. He pursed his lips and picked you up in his arms.

“Keep your comlink on, Mx. Wayne.” A trace of concern crossed Lucius’ face. “We can’t lose contact with anyone else.”

“They won’t,” Jon answered for you as he flew into the air. You stayed tense in his arms, wondering if you should have trusted Jon. A lump formed in your throat. You pushed that aside. Jon flew out of the cave and straight toward the war-torn city.

***

You helped the firefighter to his feet. “Robin, where have you been?” he gasped as flames ate up the floor below you.

“Around.” You half-carried him to the window. Jon appeared, taking the firefighter from you.

“Get out of the building. It’s not stable.” Lucius’ voice filled your ear. Jon floated the firefighter down after giving you a warning look.

“Can’t. One more inside.” You looked up, seeing the heartbeat through your mask’s bio-vision. The suit was amazing. You felt more alive than you had in a long time.

Rolling out of the way of falling debris, you flipped your way up through the hole in the ceiling. “Help.” A weak voice came from the stairwell. You wandered over, putting in your rebreather to help with the smoke. It was thicker up here.

You opened the door to the stairwell only to see a blast of flames hurling toward you. Jumping out of the way, you heard a chilling laugh. “Come on out, Robin,” a male voice shouted. Your mask identified the voice as the Human Flame. “Let me burn you up. Give me that million.” You took out a freeze grenade and threw it around the corner.

“Don’t you hate Martian Manhunter? Why are you even in Gotham?” You smiled when you heard him howl. Moving so fast to the point where you thought you were flying, you ran around the corner and kicked him hard in the face. He grunted. The ice that formed around him shattered. He slammed into the wall. “Woah.” You laughed, flexing your arm in the suit. “This is so cool.”

Suddenly, an arm wrapped around your waist and you really were flying. “The building is coming down and you are just hanging out in here?” Jon grumbled in your ear. He picked up the Human Flame by the scruff of his costume and carried you both outside. He dropped the Human Flame by one of the cop cars.

“I thought it was another firefighter.” You wrapped your arms around his neck. “That was exhilarating.”

“Mx. Wayne, we lost contact with Batman. His last location was at northeast end of the docks,” Lucius said. Your blood ran cold.

“Are you sure we’re ready to let Damian know we’re here?” Jon looked nervous as he flew toward the docks when you pointed in the right direction.

You snorted, pretending your hands weren’t shaking. “He probably already knows we’re here.” A high pitch whistle filled the air. You looked over Jon’s shoulder to see a missile coming toward you. “Jon!”

Jon dropped you, taking the hit. The explosion sent you soaring to the ground. You pulled out your grapple gun, flipping through the air before firing it at a nearby roof. It took the impact as you rolled into your landing. Jon went flying, crashing into the street a block away.

You sprinted down the street toward Jon only for bright headlights to suddenly beam from behind you. Going off instinct, you rolled into an alleyway as brakes squealed to a stop. You blinked at the tank-like batmoblie. Batman hopped out. You felt sick, reminding yourself that wasn’t your father.

“TT.” He marched to you. “This is not the time for some simpleton to dress like Robin.”

“I’m not a simpleton and I can’t believe you talk like that when you’re Batman. Who will be scared of you?” you retorted, smiling at the shock on his face.

“(Y/N), go home.” He grabbed your arm. “This is a big enough disaster without you making it worse.”

You yanked your arm out of his grasp. “Shut up.” He narrowed his eyes at you. “I made this mess, so I have to help clean it up.”

“Ouch,” Jon groaned, appearing at the opening of the alleyway with a limp. “You okay, Robin?” He came to your side. Damian eyed him.

“You brought them here, Superboy?” Damian snarled. It was almost like they were never friends in the first place. Jon bit his lip nervously, keeping his eyes on you. “You idiot, don’t you understand?! This is what they want! You think that missile was a mistake!”

You swallowed hard. “Why was your comlink off?” You crossed your arms, pushing aside your anger and frustration. “We were sent to look for you.”

“Fox.” Damian growled. “He gave you that suit too, didn’t he?” Damian tried to grab your arm again. You stepped out of his reach.

“He said Nightwing and Starfire are MIA.” Jon wrapped an arm around your waist. Damian stared at Jon’s arm before glaring darkly at Jon. To his credit, Jon scowled right back at him.

“Yes, I was about to investigate before you dropped in front of my car.” Damian yanked you away from Jon. “Keep your hands to yourself, Superboy.”

Jon growled. “Robin and I have been dating for quite some time. I have a right to touch them if they want me to.”

The pure fury on Damian’s face was priceless. If this wasn’t happening in the middle of a war-zone, you would have enjoyed it more. “Nightwing and Starfire,” you said, stepping between the two men. “We have to go find them now.”

“Fine.” Damian’s grip tightened on your arm. He pulled you toward the tank-like batmobile. “You’re coming with me and you’re going to stay in the batmobile. Do you understand?”

Jon trailed behind you before flying into the air. You hopped into the batmobile. “I’m not staying in here. You need backup, Damian.” The comlink button was off. You switched it back on.

“Oh good, Mr. Wayne. Welcome back into the fold,” Lucius said sarcastically. Damian hopped in beside you.

“TT, some people don’t need your sarcasm, Fox.” Damian glared at you as the batmobile sealed and took off toward the Iceberg lounge.

Lucius hummed. “Mr. Pennyworth called. He is in Smallville and discovered Mx. Wayne and Mr. Kent have disappeared from their prom. I informed him that they were here.”

Damian’s eyes shot to you at the word ‘prom’. You did your best not to look at him. “Tell him we’re sorry, but this is something I have to do,” you said, pursing your lips. You glanced up to see Jon flying above the batmobile.

“Of course.” Lucius’ voice clicked off.

“Prom? You went to prom with him?” Damian glanced at you. His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly. “Are you dating him?”

“Yes, if you must know.” You crossed your arms.

Damian frowned. “Has he...have you and him....?”

You snorted. “Why do you care? I’m just the one who tarnished our father’s legacy.”

Damian slammed on the batmobile’s brakes, sliding to a stop. “You did.” He glared at you. “I will let you back me up, but you have to do everything I say and you are to go home with Grayson once we find him.”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to answer out loud. A tear slipped out of your mask. You quickly wiped it away with your hand. Damian noticed. He grunted, hopping out of the batmobile.

Jon landed beside the car, offering you a hand. “You okay?” Jon whispered, eyeing Damian.

“It’s fine.” You let Jon take your hand as you both trailed after Damian. Damian glared up at the Iceberg Lounge.

“Why is (Y/N) here?” Tim demanded, landing next to Damian with Steph behind him.

“It’s going to be like this all night, isn’t it?” you said to Jon. Jon nodded, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. Steph raised an eyebrow at the sight. Tim just frowned.

Someone landed behind you. “All I know is that Dick is going to kill us all, and Superboy is going to get castrated for sure,” Jason chuckled, walking up to join the others.

Jon shifted uncomfortably. “Stop it.” You glared at the others. “Can we just focus on saving Nightwing and Starfire please?”

“Huntress and Batwing escaped and reported in. Apparently, the Penguin hired Deathstroke.” Tim worked on his wrist computer. “And they’re waiting for us to take the bait.”

“Then we go.” You started toward the building, but Jon held you back.

“No, you don’t.” Damian gripped your shoulder, pulling you away from Jon. “This is a trap for you. I bet they’re trying to collect the bounty on your head.”

You narrowed your eyes, swallowing the rock in your throat. “That’s Dick in there, Damian.”

Damian glared back at you. “No, you’re not going in,” Tim said, stepping up to glower at you too. “You caused this mess. Stay out of it and let us fix it.” Your heart ached when you saw the strain Tim was under. Guilt dropped your stomach to your feet. He never used to be this stressed or mean.

“(Y/N) stays.” Jason stepped between you and Tim. “They have to do this.”

“Jason, I know you’re the reason they’re here. You texted them that you left, knowing they would follow.” Tim leaned in close, staring straight into the lenses of Jason’s helmet. “I hacked your phone, because I knew you’d pull some shit like this.”

“Watch it, Timbo.” Jason’s hands clenched into fists. “I can still beat you within a inch of your life.”

You were going to push your way between them, but Steph beat you to it. “Enough. Oh my god, stop this stupid pissing contest. We got family in danger in there.” She scowled at Jason then Tim. Tim blushed, looking away. Jason snorted. “Let’s shape up. Make a plan. Get them out alive and then we’ll argue.” Steph looked at you and Jon. Damian’s hand tightened on your shoulder. “Robin and Superboy come with us.” Steph looked at each of your brothers. “Is that understood?”

All three grumbled. “Wow,” Jon mumbled, sneaking back to your side when Damian wasn’t looking. “She’s tough.”

“She was Robin once too, you know.” You tensed as Tim went into a plan to rescue Dick and Kori.

***

“Irresponsible,” Tim grumbled as he crawled in the vent ahead of you. “Dumb. Childish.” You wished Steph had been sent with you to shut him up. However, it was just you and Tim.

Jason and Jon were going through the front door, creating a distraction and taking down whatever goons the Penguin had ready. Damian and Steph were coming up from under the Iceberg Lounge. You and Tim got stuck with the vents. Your worry for Dick and Kori plus Tim’s verbal abuse made you want to scream and break a few bones. However, you decided to be the bigger person your father would want you to be.

“This is all Dick’s fault. His stupid hardheadedness had to rub off on you. He refused to put you into stasis like I told him.” Tim kept mumbling. You froze at the stasis part. He was an completely different person than the Tim you remembered. Did you really force him to change that much?

“Wow, thanks Tim. I didn’t realize how much you and Damian were alike.” Tim flinched at your words. You smiled sadly, missing the brother who showed you cartoons and always listened to you. Your heart broke at the fact you did this. By killing Bane, you made Tim into this malicious man.

Tim slipped out of the vent into a store room. He held his arms up to help you down, but you ignore him, dropping down on your own. Tim sighed. “You don’t understand,” Tim said, guilt flashed in his eyes. “(Y/N), you started a war. You broke Batman’s code and it started a chain reaction. I mean we would have had some conflict due to Batman’s...” He swallowed hard, unable to say death. You wondered if Tim hadn’t processed your father’s death yet. Poor Tim, maybe he didn’t have a chance to grieve yet because of the mess you made. “But we wouldn’t have had this if you didn’t kill Bane.”

“But Bane might still be alive. I saw him in the cameras.” You brought up the footage on your wrist computer. Tim blinked at the footage.

“That’s not him.” Tim turned away. He hooked up his wrist computer to the computer panel next to the door and hacked it.

“How do you know? Mr. Fox said Batgirl was investigating it.” You followed, taking in everything he did. A boom sounded somewhere in the building. You flinched, hoping that it was just part of Jon and Jason’s distraction.

Tim fixed you with a icy glare. “I’ve been gathering intel for almost a year. I know who it is.” You nodded for him to keep talking, but he fell silent.

“Seriously?” You punched his arm.

“What?” Tim hacked away on his wrist computer.

“Who is it?” Your voice became dangerously low. Tim looked back at you.

“You don’t need to know.” He caught your fist before you could hit him again. “You’re only here to help us rescue Nightwing and Starfire, then you’re out of this. I’ll put you in stasis if I have to. I don’t care what Dick says.”

A frown pulled at your lips. Your eyes filled with tears. You quickly turned away from him, so he wouldn’t see. Curse your emotions, probably another thing that Dick rubbed off on you. A stony silence fell between you and Tim as he hacked away.

“I should have known I’d find you two here,” Dick’s voice said from behind you. You and Tim jumped in surprise. Tim grabbed your arm and stepped in front of you protectively.

Your heart skipped a beat as you studied Dick in his Nightwing costume. Tim tensed. “I thought you were being held in the Penguin's office?” Tim asked, squeezing your arm in a secret signal your father had taught you. ‘Danger.’

“Escaped. It’s what I do best.” Dick leaned over to peek at you. “Hey Robbie, nice to see you.” It felt wrong. A shiver ran up your spine.

“Right, I forgot.” Tim forced a smile on his face. He squeezed your arm again, another signal. ‘Dodge and run.’ “Hey, just so I know, when did we first meet?”

The wrong Dick frowned. “Why are you asking me that? Don’t you know me, Red?”

“No reason.” In one quick motion, you dived out of the way as Tim threw a electrified batarang at the wrong Dick. Dick screamed before dissolving into a pile of clay on the floor. Clayface emerged into his true form. You dashed out of the room, barely avoiding Clayface’s arm that tried to grab at you.

You sprinted down the hall, sliding to trip a guard when he burst out of one of the doors. Clayface and Tim crashed out into the hallway. “Robin, run,” Tim ordered, dodging Clayface’s foot.

“Going.” You kept running, bursting through the door onto the main stage of the iceberg lounge. It was dark. Your mask switched to night vision. You avoided the instruments. Suddenly, a spotlight clicked on and you were blinded. Something hit you from behind. You fell to the ground, all the breath forced out of you.

“There you are.” Your mask rebooted itself and identified the voice as Deathstroke. A foot pressed on your back, holding you down. “So easy. Your father would be disappointed.”

A ice cold shiver went down your spine. Hot, blistering rage filled you. “Shut up.” You used your suit’s increased strength to throw his foot off your back and rolled to your feet.

Deathstroke grunted in surprise before pulling out his sword. “Let’s see how much of a disappointment you are.”

You narrowed your eyes. Taking a deep breath, you relaxed into a fighting stance. Deathstroke zoomed toward you.

It was a long, hard fight. He got you several times with his sword, but you got a few hits in to startle him away before the sword could sink into you. You knew you wouldn’t last long.

Deathstroke kicked you off the stage. You landed hard on your arm. The bone snapped. You screamed, rolling away as Deathstroke jumped to stab you. The sword missed you by inches.

“You’re good, but not good enough.” Deathstroke laughed, suddenly kneeling on your chest. You gasped, crushed beneath him. Your good arm smacked at him, but he didn’t react. “I could use you. Train you to be better.” He reached down to run a hand through your hair. “Like I did to Terra.”

“Fuck you.” You choked. Deathstroke snarled, slapping your face hard. Blood filled your mouth.

You prepared yourself for the worse, remembering everything your father told you about Deathstroke.

A sharp cry of rage echoed through the room. Deathstroke was slammed off your chest by a black and blue blur. You took a deep breath, wincing at the pain in your ribs. Some of them were broken.

You forced yourself up to see Nightwing punching Deathstroke over and over again. “Never ever touch my kid! You hear me!”

“Di...Nightwing, stop,” you whispered, unable to breathe enough air. “You’re going to kill him.”

Dick stopped. Deathstroke laid on the floor limply. Dick got to his feet and ran to your side. “Hush, baby. I’m here.” His hand ran through your hair, inspecting you. “I don’t know how you’re here and why you are in a Robin suit, but we’ll talk about that later.” You tried to relax, but you were in too much pain. “Your arm’s broken. God, those cuts are going to need stitches.”

A wave of suspicious came over you. Clayface’s version of Dick flashed before your eyes. “When did I first taste popcorn?”

He frowned slightly. “Honey, how hard did you hit your head?”

“Answer me.” You growled.

Dick sighed, glancing around. “It was the first time you went to the movies. I took you.” He smiled. “You were so cute, licking it first before finally putting it in your mouth.”

You relaxed. “Oh, it’s you for real this time.” Dick helped you to your feet. “Where’s Kori?”

Dick frowned. “I don’t know. I was looking for her when I heard you scream.” He wrapped his arm around your shoulders. You held your arm, hissing from the pain. “This was a setup. The whole thing.”

“It’s all my fault.” You shivered. Dick led you out of the main lounge.

“No, it’s not. Let’s just get you out of here.” Dick threw a batarang at a goon that came around the corner. “Are you alone here?”

Almost on cue, the wall in front of the two of you exploded. Dick knocked you down as Jon flew past you and crashed back into the main lounge. You groaned, black swarmed your vision as you struggled to breathe. Your ribs and arm were on fire from Dick’s weight.

“Of course, Superboy brought you. I’ll kill him,” Dick grumbled, getting off you quickly. “Sorry, honey. Just hold on for me.”

“(Y/N).” Jon crawled to your side. Blood ran down his face from a cut on his forehead.

“What happened to you?” You forgot about your own pain, reaching up to wipe some of the blood out of his eyes.

Jon winced. “Metallo.”

Dick glared at Jon. “Get Robin out of here.” He looked you in the eye. “Stay at the cave with Jon. We’ll see you soon.” Dick kissed your forehead before going to join the fight. Jon picked you up.

“We can’t go. Kori.” You panted. Jon’s arms put painful pressure on your broken ribs. “Damn it.”

“Sorry.” Jon set you on your feet. “(Y/N), you’re in no shape to stay.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Neither are you.”

He sighed. His shoulders slumped. “I can never win against you, can I?”

A weak smile pulled on your lips. “No.”

Jon snorted. “Come on, my x-ray vision picked up some activity in the basement.” You nodded, holding your arm to your chest as you led Jon to the staircase.

***

The two of you found a metal freezer in the basement. There was a lot of damage outside of the freezer along with unconscious soldiers. “Batman and Spoiler came through here,” you said, eyeing the wounds on the soldiers.

Jon stared at the freezer for a long moment. “Oh no.” He quickly ripped off the door and Kori fell to the floor. You gasped, rushing to her side. Your ribs and arm throbbed, but you ignored it.

She was cold as death. Her orange skin tinted blue. “Please be okay.” You checked for a pulse. It was faint, but still there. You glanced at Kori’s baby bump nervously. “Jon, you have to warm her up now.”

“How?” Jon glanced around in a panic.

You pointed at your eyes. “Heat vision.”

“But I’d burn through her.” Jon shook his head. His eyes were on Kori’s baby bump too.

“You can control it. Warm up the floor around her.” You moved away. Jon nodded. His eyes glowed red as the beams shot out of his eyes and into the floor. The heat soaked into your feet. Your suit sent you a warning, and immediately started cooling you off.

Slowly, Kori’s skin lost the blue tint. She stirred, but didn’t wake up. “Kori,” you whispered. Jon turned off his heat vision. You approached, kneeling down beside her. “Please wake up.” Your eyes filled with tears. “Please.”

Jon’s hand touched your shoulder, making you flinch. Pain racked through your body at the sudden movement. “We have to get her help.”

“Take her to the cave.” You nodded to Kori, getting up. Your broken arm burned in agony. Every breath hurt.

“I’m not leaving you here.” Jon shook his head.

“Jon, we can’t leave Kori here. She’ll be defenseless.” You glared at him. “Take her to the cave.”

Jon sighed. “They’ll kill me for leaving you here. I mean they’re already going to kill me for bringing you here and for not taking you home.”

You grabbed his arm with your good arm. “Please.” Jon looked into your eyes.

“Okay.” He bent down to pick up Kori with some difficulty. “You better be here when I get back.”

“I can’t really move that fast to not be.” You waved for him to fly off. Jon gave you one last look before bursting up through the ceiling until he was out of the building and in the open air.

Alone, you glanced around at the unconscious soldiers. You studied their uniforms. They were mercenaries, but you recognized some of them. Some of them were League of Assassins, others were military trained soldiers. Whoever was wearing the Bane mask pulled a lot of weight. You swallowed hard. Why did you have to cause all this?

The hallway’s temperature dropped suddenly. You heard heavy footsteps coming down the hall. Kneeling behind the freezer, you held your breath. Your mask identified the footsteps as Mr. Freeze.

Staying quiet, you heard him wander around the room. Stupid Deathstroke for breaking your arm. You could take him if you had your arm and ribs intact.

When it finally sounded like he was leaving, you took a deep breath. You hissed in pain at your lungs expanding into your ribs. Suddenly, Mr. Freeze’s footsteps stopped. You cursed yourself. The freezer you hid behind was pushed aside and you came face to face with Mr. Freeze’s freeze gun.

“Robin,” Mr. Freeze said in his robotic voice. He looked at you with a curious expression. You frowned, ready to dodge. “I did not expect you to be here.”

“Where else would I be?” You stayed where you were, waiting.

Mr. Freeze hummed. He glanced over his shoulder. “Freeze them and we’ll split the reward,” the Penguin said, waddling into the room with his bodyguards behind him.

Dick was going to be so upset. You hoped Jon wouldn’t feel guilty for leaving you here. Closing your eyes, you let go. The end would come. At least you would be with your father. Tears filled your eyes. He’d be so mad you joined him so soon.

The freeze gun went off. However, you didn’t feel the ice overtake you. You opened your eyes to see the Penguin and his bodyguards frozen in a block of ice. “I never did like you,” Mr. Freeze said to the Penguin before turning to you. “I never liked Bane either.” He walked out of the room. You stayed where you were, shocked.

After a few long minutes, you forced yourself to your feet and went upstairs to find the others. The battle had been won. You found the others in the main lounge, handcuffing people and tending to the wounded. Dick frowned when he saw you.

“You’re supposed to be at the cave.” He hurried over to you, taking the first aid kit from Tim and started to splint your arm.

“We found Kori.” Dick froze. “Jon took her back to the cave. She needed help.” You swallowed past a rock in your throat. “I’m so sorry.”

“None of this is your fault, okay?” Dick’s voice trembled. His hands shook.

Tim came over to take over as Dick couldn’t finish the splint. “This is a mess.” He studied you. “I heard you took on Deathstroke.”

“It wasn’t my choice. He jumped me.” You shivered. Tim finished the splint. Sun peeked through the holes of the building. It was already morning.

“The police and National Guard should be here soon. We need to go,” Tim said.

Dick nodded, shaken. “I need to get to Kori.”

“We’ll all regroup at the cave,” Damian said, taking your good arm to pull you with him. “Nightwing, come along.”

You stumbled on debris, falling against Damian. He growled, jerking you upright. Your arm and ribs burned at the movement. Dick followed. He reached over to remove Damian’s hand from your arm. “Stop it.”

“TT.” Damian called the batmobile to him. It drove and stopped in front of him. He hopped in the driver’s seat. Dick helped you into the backseat before taking the passenger’s seat.

“Hang on. I’ll ride with you,” Jason said, running over. He crawled over Dick like a little kid, which was an hilarious sight given that Jason was taller and broader than him. Jason sat down beside you. Tim called over his bike and him and Steph climbed on.

Damian grumbled, driving off. The sunrise was beautiful, but the city was damaged. No people were around. Buildings crumbled, holes in the street, streets signs knocked over, street lights blown up. It was a combat zone. You leaned your head against Jason’s arm. Jason hummed. You closed your eyes, hating that you destroyed everything your father cared about with one choice that you couldn’t even remember making.

***

You laid next to Jon in your old bed at the manor. Alfred had arrived, reopening bedrooms for everyone get to a few hours of rest. Jon wasn’t supposed to be in here, but he slipped in when everyone else was asleep. Now he snored softly with his hand on your arm. There was a bandage on his forehead for the cut he gotten during the fight.

Your body ached. Every breath still hurt even with the pain pills Alfred had forced you to take. Your arm, now in a cast, throbbed away. The cuts from Deathstroke’s sword were stitched up, stinging.

Dick was still in the cave with Kori. He went silent when he saw her under the sun lamp in the cave. She hadn’t woken up yet. No one would tell you if the baby was okay or not.

Unable to stand it any longer, you rolled to your feet. The pain intensified, but you pushed through. You wandered out of your room. A rock formed in your throat when you reached your father’s room. Slowly, you pushed open the door, frowning at it’s lifeless quiet state. Alfred had covered everything in sheets, but that’s it. Your father’s belongings hadn’t been moved.

You pulled off the sheet on the dresser and opened the top drawer. His shirts were neatly folded inside. You picked up a dark blue one and pressed your face into it. It still smelled like him. You relaxed, letting yourself float back into your memories if only for a moment.

***

You were packing your suitcase, knowing the flight back to Gotham was in the morning. Currently, you were in the Wayne Tech’s penthouse located in Paris. Your father and you had traced Magpie there where she had attempted to steal the Regent Diamond from the Louvre. Using the excuse of a business trip, Batman and Robin stopped Magpie while Bruce and (Y/N) supposedly attended business meetings.

“(Y/N)?” Your father appeared in the doorway of your bedroom. He was wearing sweatpants and t-shirt. You remembered he got a phone call from Alfred, who had stayed behind in Gotham. From the tension in your father’s shoulders, Alfred must have scolded him about something.

“Yeah?” You sat down on your bed, swinging your legs playfully.

He sighed. “I forgot again, didn’t I?” He sat down beside you on the bed.

You eyed him, shrugging. “It’s not a big deal, Dad.”

“Yes, it is. Fathers aren’t supposed to forget their kids’ birthday.” Bruce shifted uncomfortably. “Alfred made a suggestion.”

“What? I don’t need anything, Dad. Being in Paris was a nice enough birthday for me.” You smiled, looking out the window at the beautiful view of the Eiffel Tower.

Bruce cleared his throat. “Well, then you’ll be happy to know we’ll be spending an extra two days here then.” Your jaw dropped in shock. Bruce chuckled at the sight. “No patrol, no Batman or Robin. Just you and me and whatever you want to do.”

“Are you serious?” Your heart skipped a beat in excitement. You thought about going to the Louvre and actually getting to look around this time instead of just stopping Magpie. All the food you could try. You licked your lips before hugging Bruce tightly. “Thank you, Dad. This is going to be great!”

“You’re welcome. Happy birthday, (Y/N).” He hugged you back in his strong arms. You felt so loved, so safe.

***

You sobbed, burying your face into the shirt as you sank to your knees. Your body ached, but the pain in your heart was too great for you to stop. Deep down, you knew you would never get to feel that loved and safe again.

Thin, strong arms suddenly hugged you from behind. You tensed as a sharp chin rested on the top of your head. It took you a moment to catch your breath. “Cass?”

She hummed, hugging you tighter. You didn’t know she had come to the manor too. More sobs racked out of your body, hurting your ribs. Cass held you for a long time. Eventually, you stopped crying, exhaustion soaking into your bones. Your father’s shirt was soaked with your tears and snot. Cass guided you to your feet and led you back to your room. She clucked her tongue at Jon in your bed, but ignored him to tuck you in. Your father’s shirt stayed in your hands.

“Sleep.” She patted your cheek before silently leaving the room. Jon’s arm wrapped around your waist to pull you close. His body heat permeated you like sunlight. Your pain faded as you let yourself fall into the blissfulness of sleep.

***

“This is only going to get worst!” Tim’s voice echoed throughout the cave. He, Damian, Jason, Barbara, Steph, Cass, and Duke were in the meeting area. Their debate grew more heated by the second. You shivered on the medbed as Alfred changed the bandages on your cuts.

Alfred frowned. You sighed, wincing when it hurt your ribs. Jon and Lois were having a very tense discussion in the corner. You felt bad for him, but you didn’t regret coming here.

“Mx. (Y/N), take it easy. You are not going out tonight,” Alfred said firmly once he finished.

“Yes, Alfred.” You swallowed hard, getting off the medbed to wander over to the ICU area. Kori was still unconscious and under the sun lamp. Dick sat as close to her as he dared, staring at her with an empty expression. The monitors showed a steady heartbeat. A faint smile crossed your lips when you noticed two heartbeats on the monitors.

You came to Dick’s side. He blinked, wrapped an arm around you. “Hey kiddo,” he whispered. His hand rubbed your side gently. It hurt your ribs, but you didn’t want to say anything.

“Is she okay?” You trembled.

“Her vitals and the baby’s are good, but she hasn’t woken up.” Dick ran his free hand through his hair only to wince from the movement. He had been hurt too. Your stomach twisted, threatening to lose the little food you managed to eat. “This isn’t your fault, honey. I don’t want to hear that from you.” You pursed your lips, tears threatening to fall. Dick kissed your cheek. “I didn’t want you to be part of this.” You wanted to scream. If you hadn’t come, you would be hearing about Kori’s injury about now if not more terrible news. It was three in the afternoon. You probably would have had fun at prom, fell asleep only to wake up to this horror that you caused. How could he be so dumb to try to keep you out of this?

“Shouldn’t you be with the others?” you asked. Dick pulled you to sit in his lap, hugging you tightly. You let him.

“No.” Dick squeezed you, hurting you. You bit your lip to keep from gasping. “We’re not going to be here for much longer.”

“What?” Your jaw dropped, heart skipping a beat.

Dick sighed. “We’re leaving, going home.” He frowned when you pulled away from him. “Don’t fight me on this, sweetheart.”

“We can’t leave.” You choked. The guilt ate you alive. “I caused this. I can’t leave them to deal with this. Tim already hates me, Damian too. I can’t do this to them.”

“I’m not arguing with you on this.” Dick snarled in a way he never had to you before. “We’re going home.” His tone softened. “I have more to lose now.” He patted your arm, but you jerked away from him. “(Y/N).” You left the room, shocked beyond belief. Dick wasn’t who you thought he was.

You stopped outside of the meeting room, listening in. “They said they will stop the siege if we turn Robin over to them,” Barbara said sharply. “Obviously, we’re not going to do that, but maybe we can set up a decoy.”

“TT, no one is small enough to be convincing,” Damian said. A fist slammed into the table.

“Don’t even think about saying we just hand them over! Damn it!” Jason’s voice echoed throughout the cave. You quickly walked away. Your mind swirled, trying to think of a way to fix this.

“You are grounded for life, you hear me,” Lois snapped at Jon as you passed them. Jon looked at the ground, not noticing you.

Going upstairs to the manor, you exited into your father’s study only to be taken back by his giant self portrait on the wall. He hated it, but it was all part of the Brucie image.

“Daddy, I broke everything.” You looked at his eyes, imaging the disappointment that would be there. “I know you said it wasn’t my fault, but everything is going to hell.” You took a deep breath. Your ribs on fire. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I killed Bane because Bane killed you.”

Silence followed. You kept staring into his eyes. “What would you do?” Your heart broke. Deep down in your soul, you knew what he would do. Your father was selfless to the upmost degree. Closing your eyes, you let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. “Okay. It’s time anyway.” You opened your eyes to meet your father’s painted ones. “I have to fix this.” You went over to the desk and got out some paper to write notes for everyone. A final goodbye.

***

It was easy to slip out of the manor. You wore civvies and a plain domino mask, not wanting the high tech suit to fall into the wrong hands. No one noticed you left.

You rode a motorcycle into the city, zipping along. Everything was brighter, more clear than it ever been. You enjoyed everything for the last time.

The Bane lookalike’s headquarters was at Wayne Tower. You parked your bike outside, looking up at it. It took several long moments before the Bane lookalike came out and stood in front of you. Up close, you knew instantly this wasn’t the Bane you killed. He was not tall enough and he didn’t have the grace of a street fighter that Bane had.

“Welcome Robin.” The Bane lookalike smiled. “Finally.”

“Is the deal on?” You narrowed your eyes at him, getting off the bike. Entering the code, you rigged it to explode in two minutes. “If I hand myself over, you’ll leave Gotham alone?”

The Bane lookalike studied you carefully. “Yes.” He gestured for you to come to him. You took a deep breath, your ribs burning. Slowly, you walked over to him. “Good child.” A sharp prick in your neck left you dizzy. You turned to see a ninja with a needle. Your legs gave out. The Bane lookalike caught you. “Now you will pay for what you’ve done.” The last thing you heard was his laughter.

#batfamily #batfamily imagine #batfamily x reader #dc comics imagines #dc reader insert #dick grayson #dick grayson imagine #jon kent #jon kent x reader #jon kent imagine #superboy #superboy x reader #superboy imagine #nightwing #nightwing imagine #starfire #starfire imagine #kori anders #kori anders imagine

449 notes · View notes

catxsnow · 4 years

Text

TRUTH BE TOLD D.G & J.T.

Request: Alright homeslice hear me out: dick x reader x jason love triangle. And reader is so oblivious and doesn't realize it. One night they're fighting someone and reader gets hit with like a love/truth spell and BAM angst and fluff galore

Warning: Fluff, Angst, swears

A/N: I hate love triangles but I made an exception just this once. I’m sorry about this ending.

Also if you don’t know, Klarion is a bratty Witch Boy. Pretty much all you need to know for this lol. Also I love Zatanna, okay I HAVE NOTHING AGAINST HER it was just for the plot.

GIF not mine

Word count: 4.2k

Damian was tired. He was tired of seeing his brothers so ridiculously pine over you. First off, you were far too beautiful to stoop as low as them. Secondly, they continuously tried to gain your attention that has made them look like narcissistic idiots. Whether it was trying to show of their muscles with some sort of cool move or prove their intellect, they tried everything.

You didn't work with Batman full time until moving to Gotham. It was the occasional team up that got Dick and Jason absolutely infatuated with you. When they heard that you were moving to Gotham for good? Well, they were in the least to say, very, very excited. Even with Dick in Bludhaven most the time and Jason off fighting around the world, it was a hell of a lot easier to see you when they came home.

Much like Bruce and his family, you were just human. No powers, no magic, just someone who wants to see the world a better place. Maybe that was the reason that Batman trusted you so easily - well as much as he trusted anyone. Being human meant that you had weaknesses, a lot of them.

One of those weaknesses included being completely oblivious to people's feelings about you. Most of your life you were cut off from emotions. If you wanted to do a good job of cleaning up cities from crime, you couldn't be distracted by caring for others. Year after year you told yourself it was just part of the job.

Until you moved to Gotham. Becoming part of the Bat-team made you realize that it was okay to let people in, even just a little bit. If the great Batman himself cared for a select few of people, why couldn't you? Damian had become the annoying little brother to you, Tim as well. It was with Jason and Dick where things became more complicated.

The two men had obvious feelings for you - everyone was aware about it except for you. They were allured by your skills, beauty, talents, and genuine selflessness. Night after night they had an endless war of trying to see who you would choose. You hadn't noticed either of their attempts at this, to you they were just being friendly.

This was why Damian was tired of it. You didn't even know about their feelings and yet they still fought about it when you weren't around. Jason and Dick would yell at each other, trying to prove who deserved you more. Bruce and Alfred had to pull them apart before things got escalated nearly every time.

It had been going on for years, and even though they both had been in and out of relationships over the years, it seemed that the end goal was always you.

"I'm getting really fucking sick of this guy!"

It was supposed to be an easy mission, in and out before anyone could even see you. Of course, things had to go wrong. Klarion the Witch Boy had been hiding within the shadows and the second that he laid eyes on you, all hell broke loose.

Objects were thrown in your direction constantly and it was becoming a struggle to continue to dodge them all. There was no way that you could get a clear shot on him with his force field protecting him and his stupid cat. No matter how many explosives and sharp objects you threw his way, there was no chance of getting to him.

It was against your wish that you had to call in for back up. After being on your own for this mission, you were quick to realize that Klarion was far too powerful for you to take down on your own. Bruce and Damian arrived as fast as they could to help you, the others were unfortunately busy with missions and couldn't come to you even if they wished to.

Their entrance had distracted you for only a sliver of a second, but that time was all Klarion needed to cast the first spell he could think of off the top of his head. A red blast protruded from the palm of his hand and went straight towards you. It hit your right in the chest and the force of it pushed you painfully into the nearest wall.

Your head smacked against the cement and black spots covered your vision because of it. As you tried to push yourself up off the ground, you could see Klarion getting away. He wasn't prepared for a fight against Batman himself. Your arms collapsed from below you and you didn't have the energy to even sit up.

The last thing you saw was Robin running towards you with worry on his face.

You woke up to bright lights. The small med bay that Bruce had in the cave was always lit up and each time you were stuck there you always wished he'd get different lights that didn't hurt to look at. The groan that you admitted while sitting up caught the attention of those who had stuck around for you to wake up.

Jason, Dick, and Damian were all there waiting for you to recover from the spell that Klarion had cast upon you. They were still unsure what he had done to you, but if you didn't seem to be in any danger from it, at least nothing that would be permanent. They wouldn't know until you woke up.

The three boys hovered over you, watching your every movement. "The last thing someone wants to see waking up is your ugly faces," you joked. The three of them rolled their eyes nearly in sync as they gave you some space. "What happened?"

"Klarion hit you with a spell," Damian informed you. "How do you feel?"

"My headache feels worse than the time that I showed up hungover for patrol with Bruce. Also, I’ve got the weirdest craving for a PB and J," You blurted out. Your eyes were wide at your answer - you definitely didn't mean to say that out loud. "What the fuck. I didn't mean to say that. What did that Witch Rat do to me?"

"We don't know," Jason answered. He glanced between you and Dick. Both of them wanted to hold you in their arms, to make sure that you were safe with them. Neither of them made a move to do so, not when they didn't know what was wrong with you. "Do you feel any different?"

You shook your head. You felt fine. Your body wasn't that sore and you didn't feel sick in any sort of way. Hopefully, his spell was nothing but a distraction to get out of there and not something that would leave you suffering for the rest of your life.

"Maybe we should call Zatanna, she might be able to figure out what he did to you. What do you think?" Dick offered. If anyone could figure out a magic spell, it would be her. Your thoughts immediately went to the time that she and Dick had briefly dated and your mind went sour.

"Zatanna was never good enough for you Dick, you always deserved better than her. She's a liar, and a sneak," you said aloud. This time, your hands physically covered over your mouth from what had just come out of it. There was no way that you intended to say that out loud.

"Whoa, (Y/N)," Jason held his hands up in defense. You were never one to be snippy with other people. There were the time that you got annoyed and flipped on them, but never behind their backs like this. What the hell was going on with you? "Tell us how you really fell," he continued to joke around.

"I feel like sometimes I meant to be alone in this life. That I'll never be good enough to have someone love me because of the things that I've done, the people I've killed. It's come to the point where I don't feel like I deserve to wear this suit because of how aggressive I've become while in it."

You one again held your palm of your mouth. Where did this come from? Why did you just reveal your darkest insecurities to them? Insecurities that you could barely admit to yourself, much less someone else. Even if you did trust these boys with your life, you didn't always trust them with your feelings.

"What the fuck!" you screeched. Whatever Klarion had done to you, it was taking effect. You would never say anything like this, everyone knew that. You were reserved when it came to any emotions, maybe just as bad as Bruce himself. The surprised look on the boy's face had made you feel even more embarrassed for what you said.

The shock quickly turned to pity. They had no idea that you felt that way about yourself. Dick and Jason both wanted nothing more than to just tell you how they felt, to assure you that you were worthy of love. They might not have had the cleanest slates either, but you still deserved to have someone love you.

"Klarion put a truth spell on you," Bruce had joined the four of you. You hadn't even noticed him arrive and wondered how much of that he had heard. Bruce knew that you had killed before, but he also knew how it tore you up at night and that it wasn't something that you were proud of. "You're lucky he didn't kill you."

"Because you think I can't do things on my own, don't you?" You questioned with hostility in your voice. "I didn't mean that. Yes I did. Bruce! Fix this!" You had a turmoil within you. No matter how hard you tried to stop yourself from blurting out how you truly felt, you couldn't do it.

Bruce said nothing else, but nodded once before leaving. As soon as his father left, Damian gained a bit of an evil look in his eyes. Before you could even try to stop him, he had already started talking. Truth spell that you couldn’t resist answering? He was going to have a lot of fun with that.

"Did you eat the last slice of cake and blame it on Jason?" Damian asked. There was no way that he wasn't going to take advantage of this situation with you, but he wanted to start off with easy questions to see how powerful this spell really was. You should have known that he was going to do this.

The list of questions that any of them could ask you was horrendously long. The more you thought about it, the more you really did have to hide from them. You were pretty secretive and without being able to hold back the truth, they could find out everything from you if they wanted to.

"Yes," you told them. Jason's gained a look of hurt at your words. "Damian was holding a knife! What else was I supposed to say. He scares me." Damian looked content with your truth about him.

"When I lost my helmet a month ago, was it you that took it?" Jason narrowed his eyes. It had disappeared only for a day. When he checked the next time, it was in the exact same spot that he left it. For a while, he assumed that he had just been too sleep deprived but the more he thought about it, the more he knew that someone had to have taken it.

"Yes," You told him. "I wanted to see what the tech was like but then I kind of was having fun and didn't want to take it off. I also stole your sweater when I went over too, it's still in my room but I don't want to give it back. And I took the left overs in your fridge and left the note so you would think it was Roy."

Jason scoffed and shook his head at your answer. He wasn't expecting you to admit so much to one question but he was glad that he asked. The things he was dying to ask you, he knew that he couldn't with everyone else there as well. He had to restrain himself from asking, the answers that were just at the ready for him were so tempting.

"Why does Alfred the cat hate you?" Damian leaned his body closer to you. You felt intimidated under his stare but no matter how hard you bit your tongue you couldn't stop yourself from answering again.

"He wouldn't leave me alone so I threw him in the water fountain in the garden."

Dick and Jason couldn't help but laugh at that one. Damian looked furious at your answer but you had paid for your mistake. Cat scratched lined your arms for the next week.

“Do you sleep naked?” Jason raised an eyebrow. The questions were surely going to get a lot more personal and if they weren’t surrounding you, you already would have made your escape. Unfortunately, you felt too weak to push them away and there was no way you could outrun them.

“Sometimes,” you answered. The truth spell didn’t seem to be quite content enough with that answer and made you spew out more unforgettable words. “Yes, all the time.”

"Wait, wait," Dick stopped his brothers as they both opened their mouths to ask even more questions. Though there was so much that he wanted to ask you, he knew that it was wrong to do so. "This is mean, we can't take advantage of (Y/N) like this. She has the right to her own privacy."

"Thanks, Dick," you half smiled at him. You appreciated that someone stepped up to stop anything from happening that you would regret.

"But," Dick continued. Your eyes widened at what he was going to say next. You were sure that they could hear the rise in your heart rate and the see the beads of sweat form on your forehead. being unable to hide what you wanted to say made you more scared than half the missions ever did.

Dick wanted nothing more than to ask you the question they had all been thinking: Jason or Dick? He wanted to know once and for all who it was that you cared for more and which one of them had a real chance with you. This back and forth arguing with Jason was tiring him out. He didn't, it didn't seem right to ask you this question against your will.

"You hooked up with Roy when we were part of the Teen Titans didn't you?"

"After every mission."

Between Damian's disgusted face at you, along with Jason wondering how Roy ever managed to hook up with you, and Dick's disappointment, you could tell that this was not the answer that they were wanting to hear. They wanted to know why you had hooked up with Roy rather than either of them.

Truth was, they just never asked.

It had been days and the spell still hadn't worn off. Everyone in the manor kept forgetting about your truthfulness. It was the simple, mundane questions that they didn't expect you to be so open about.

How was your sleep? Who forgot to make coffee? Why is there no milk left? You had openly admitted to them that you were on your period and would much rather take a bullet to the chest than go through this every month.

The worst time had to be when Steph asked about her outfit. She simply wanted another woman's opinion and had completely forgot about your open honesty. After that morning she vowed never to ask about an outfit from you ever again. You felt terrible for saying such awful things to her.

Each question got a very snippy, very truthful answer which you felt bad about. Thankfully, no one teased you anymore about asking ridiculous questions about yourself that you weren't wanting to share. Bruce had scolded his kids for being rude to you - you were a guest in their home until all this was over.

Since you were staying there, that also meant that Dick and Jason had decided to hang around as well. Although you were worried they were still going to ask you certain questions, you were glad to have their company. It had been a while since you had spent time with them outside of missions.

The two heroes were starting to lose their patience with each other. Jason wanted to ask you how you felt about them, it was the perfect time in his eyes to ask. There was no way that you could lie about your feelings and they would finally know the truth after all these years. Whoever you picked, would put an end to this war.

Dick on the other hand, saw this as too much of an invasion to your privacy. If you were going to pick one of them you either would have said something already, or weren't ready to admit it. Forcing you to reveal your feelings seemed like something you would hold against them forever.

Which had brought on another fight between the men. They yelling had caught your attention from your room, but it was the loud crash that followed that made you run downstairs to see what the fuss was about.

Damian stood between Jason and Dick, both of which had a vicious look in their eyes. If there was nothing blocking them, you were sure that they would be right in the middle of a fist fight. Damian looked relieved to see you standing there.

"I'm tired of this useless nonsense," Damian scowled. "(L/N), if you were going to date either of them, which on of these imbeciles would you choose?"

That was a question you had been dreading to be asked. Both men played an important role in your life. They were your best friends, your family. Each of them supported you in their own ways and you would always be thankful for everything that that have done for you. But having to pick a favourite? You didn't want to have to do that.

Jason was the kind of person that would stand up for you no matter what. After everything that he went through with Bruce, he knew that he could be a hardass at times. Jason protected you from things that you didn't even realize you needed protecting from. He kept you sane in this crazy world that you lived in.

Dick managed to always brighten your day on the worst lows you had. He had his ups and down in life and he knew how hard it was to get out of those valleys just by yourself. Without him, you weren't sure what kind of endless pit of self-destruction you would be in. He was there for you when you needed him most.

"I..." you stuttered over your words. These past few days, you hadn't had the choice to think about what you wanted to say. Whatever you felt deep within your heart and mind was the only option that you were allowed to say out loud. Now, you felt a relief in your chest, the ability to say whatever you so choose, not the deep, hidden truth within.

"I don't have to answer that," you told the three of them. Jason and Dick had egarely been waiting for your answer, it was all that they wanted to know within the past few years. Who would you pick? You did you think would treat you better. The questions had been on the tip of their tongues all week and it was finally Damian who had caved. "I think the spell's worn off."

"What?" All three of them nearly screeched. This was the one question that they had been dying to ask you and now that they finally did it, they would never get the real truth out of you. They had missed their shot.

"No, there's no way," Dick argued. He looked panicked, Damian had admitted that the two fought over you and now that they got the chance to see what your choice really was, it was taken right from the palm of their hands. "What was the most embarrassing thing that happened to you out on patrol?"

The tightness in your chest that you felt when you had been asked questions didn't appear. You didn't feel the need to blurt anything out either. The spell that Klarion cast on you was finally out of your system, and just in time too. You didn't want to know what would have happened if you had answered that question.

Truth be told, you didn't even know the answer.

You shrugged to answer Dick's question - of course you could remember the most embarrassing things that happened to you, it was engraved in your mind for the rest of your life. Without another word, you grabbed your mug of coffee and headed over to the three of them. You kissed the top of Damian's head - to which he grumbled about it.

Damian left the three of you - there was no way that he wanted to be part of whatever was going to happen next.

"(Y/N)..." Jason trailed off. He didn't even know what he wanted to tell you. He wanted to be honest, to tell you that he loved you since the day that you had told him off. He loved the way that you protected everyone no matter the cost but still ruthless against your foes. He loved everything about you.

How was he supposed to compete with someone like Dick? The golden child. Mr. Perfect. There was no way that you would ever pick him over Dick, so why did he keep getting his hopes up? Why had he fought for so many years for your affection? That was what love was all about, he just didn't know it.

"How long has this been going on?" You asked. For years, you had no idea that they had feelings for you. Dick was the biggest flirt you knew, you had just gotten used to it. Jason was always kind to you, you assumed that he was just being the protective friend over you. All these years you were oblivious to how they felt.

"Years," Dick answered briefly. Just like Jason, he wanted to tell you his true feelings. There was nothing more that he wanted than for you to pick him. But how was he supposed to compete with someone like Jason? You were more like his younger brother than you were ever like him, that was how he assumed that you guys got along so well.

Jason was always the person that you leaned on when things were getting rough. He knew how to make you feel better about the terrible things you had done because he had done just the same. Dick was never able to fully understand the difficulties that you went through, not like Jason. After all these years, why did he keep trying?

You sighed, followed by rubbing a hand down your face. That wasn't the answer that you wanted to hear. After knowing them for half your life, you felt like an idiot for not knowing that they were feeling this way. The answer that you gave them about Roy, their reaction to it, it finally made sense. They weren't disgusted, they were disappointed that it wasn't them.

Back then, when you felt like your heart couldn't be broken and that you would never break someone else's, you would have happily had put either of them in Roy's place. Now? Now, the three of you were adults, vulnerable to heartache and mistrust. You were glad that neither of them had gotten the chance.

"I would take a bullet for either of you - I have taken one," You sat down on one of the stools that sat at the kitchen island. Both of them stood before you, waiting for you answer. The anxiety in the room had never been so high before and for the first time in your life, you felt uncomfortable under their gaze.

"And you both know that I care about you, a lot. That's something that's never going to change," you continued on. "There is no one that I trust more with my life than the two of you... But I don't think I could ever trust either of you with my heart. I'm sorry."

You stood up from your spot on the chair. The heartbroken look on their faces nearly broke you. You didn't want either of them to hurt from your answer. The last last thing that you ever wanted to do was hurt them. You loved them both, it was just never the way that they wanted to be loved by you.

With as much delicacy as you could muster through your shaking hands and wobbling chin, you placed a kiss on each of their cheeks. The men leaned into your touch, soaking up every ounce of you that they could get.

"You know that I love you both," You spoke once more just before exiting the room. Your back was facing them, turning around meant that you would have to put on a brave face and that wasn't something you were sure you were capable of. Tears threatened to spill down your cheeks - whatever friendship you shared with them, it was going to be different now.

You were all adults, something like this shouldn’t change a friendship that had been lasting for years. Yet, if they had been arguing over you since they were young, you were sure that their teenage mentality of this whole situation would overpower their adult intuition.

"You deserve better than me, you deserve someone that's going to love you unconditionally. I want you both to be happy, without me."

Truth was, they never would be.

551 notes · View notes

writer-room · 3 years

Text

Siblings: Chapter Three

AO3

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 4

Summary: The Bats reflect on how their thoughts about siblings have changed over the years. Some opinions stayed, others didn't.

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

Jason was glad he didn’t have any siblings.

There was a point in his life where he longed for an older brother or sister, when he was younger and fluctuating in and out of his mom's apartment that smelled like a different drug every week. Someone to teach him the ropes and beat up the bigger kids when they stole the food he’d found or the pocket money he’d snatched up.

Nowadays he was grateful he didn’t have anyone to share resources with.

Sure, he didn’t have anyone looking out for him, but that was for the best. He couldn’t learn how to survive on his own if he didn’t get hit a few times, right?

And a younger sibling was out of the question. He couldn’t look after some toddler while he was barely functioning himself. Hell, if he had an older sibling, he wouldn’t have blamed them if this hypothetical sibling ditched him after a month tops.

Attachments in Crime Alley were for people who made gangs, who had followers or brothers-in-arms. That was the best you could get, but don’t expect any of them to risk their lives for you.

A sibling would’ve been seen as a weakness. Someone others could torment to get what they wanted out of him.

He really didn’t want to think about another kid being stuck in this dump with him, either.

It was one of the small mercies of life, that he didn’t have any kin to drag him down.

“Why are you here, again?”

“Because unlike you, Father prefers someone do their job efficiently.”

Jason snorted, side-stepping the henchman who charged him, kicking his leg out and letting him slam his face right into an alley wall.

“I think blasting heads is pretty efficient,” Jason said, twirling one of said guns in his hand as Damian kicked in the face of a second henchman. “But, alas, I’ll have to settle for horrible maiming.” He said, pausing to shoot two fleeing men in the backs of their legs, sending them toppling to the ground.

“Change of heart?” Damian grunted, kicking a goon in the back and using the motion to body-slam into another. “I didn’t think you were capable of such a thing.”

“You wish,” Jason snorted. “Unfortunately, Nightwing would break his no-murder rule just for me if he knew I dared kill in the presence of his majesty with nobody else to be a buffer.” He said with a remorseful sigh.

“Tt,” Damian rolled his eyes, he always made an exaggerated head motion when he did like he was making sure people could tell through the whites of his mask.

“He’s foolish to think that would do anything.” He said, picking up the unconscious body of one of the goons he’d knocked out and tossing it to the side of the alley. “I’ve killed far more than you could dream of.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Jason said, his tone bordering on babying. “But, yeah, ol’ Wing’s got his priorities weird.” He shrugged, letting off another shot when he saw one of the men try to grab what looked like a knife from their scattered supplies.

“Maybe he’s just afraid of us bonding.” He continued, watching as Damian stood before four men splayed on the ground by broken wooden boxes, only two of them barely conscious and cowering away.

“And what, pray tell,” Damian said, psyching out the men by jerking towards them, startling them back against the wall, before turning to Jason with an unamused look. “Would you think to bond over?”

“Let’s see,” Jason hummed, leaning back against the opposite alley wall, gun resting on his shoulder as he counted off his fingers. “History with the League of Assassins, died at one point, killed people, fairly badass if I do say so myself, mothers with horrible morals, should I go on?” He said with a grin.

Damian paused for a moment, eyes narrowed. He thought for a moment before raising his head again to meet Jason’s gaze, a surprising lack of unbridled fury in them.

“Does that not also apply to Orphan?”

Jason paused, caught off-guard. He frowned, recounting off the points he made before staring at Damian, glad that his helmet hid his disturbed expression.

“Damn,” Jason whistled. “Guess the three of us need to bond sometime.”

“I’m sure she will enjoy being included,” Damian hummed, looking over his gloves as one of the seemingly unconscious men behind him opened his eyes. “Though I imagine Father would have some complaints about--”

Now, in Jason’s defense, he hadn’t been paying attention to Bane’s goons. As far as he was concerned, the fight was over. Which was why his attention was on Damian, and not anything around Damian.

Which meant that when one of the men who had been playing possum behind Damian jumped to his feet, gripping one of the wooden boards from the broken boxes in his hand, he barely flinched. In one movement, the man swung the plank of wood like a one-armed batter, connecting with Damian’s head.

Jason jerked the moment the wood hit, immediately sending Damian right to the pavement. He was firing off a shot before he even registered aiming it. The man yelped, falling back and clutching his side as he screamed out swears.

Jason ignored him in favor of crouching down while cursing under his breath, shaking Damian. The kid was blanked for a good few seconds before he jerked and stirred. Not too bad of a hit, not even out for more than a minute. He blinked his eyes rapidly, grumbling incoherently as Jason wrapped an arm around his front, drawing Damian up to his chest.

“B’s gonna kill me,” Jason grumbled, tightening his hold on the boy as he weakly felt around, gripping onto Jason’s arm.

The man wasn’t screaming as much as before, but he was still shouting as he gripped the wooden plank again, yelling about how he was gonna kill Jason or something. He wasn’t really in the mood to care.

Instead, he turned around, still holding Damian upright as he tried to regain consciousness. The man, with one hand still clutching his side, was raising the plank of wood again and waving it wildly around.

“Oh would you shut up?” Jason snapped, aiming his gun.

He fired off two more shots. He didn't pay attention nor particularly worry about where the bullets hit. The man finally slumped against the alley wall, weakly holding himself together and finally shutting his mouth.

Jason holstered his gun, freeing his other hand to wrap around Damian’s chest and hoist him up. Damian was shaking his head, eyes still blinking rapidly.

“The hell?” Damian mumbled.

“B talk to you with that mouth?” Jason lightly teased, shaking Damian slightly.

Despite that, he still scooped up Damian, letting his head lay on his shoulder as he supported him.

“If you bite me for this, I’m dropping you off the first roof I see.” Jason threatened, stepping over one of the other men strewn out on the ground. “I know you haven’t gotten rabies shots, and I’m not taking that chance.”

There were balconies and window sills along the building to the left of the alley, so he used that. One arm kept a muttering and waking up Damian situated while he jumped between the balconies and used his free hand to grab onto the windowsills. It was a slower going than he normally liked, but he figured carrying Damian like a football wouldn’t go over too well.

The second his head popped up over the roof, he was greeted with the sight of black boots with thick blue stripes. One of the feet was softly tapping with slight impatience.

“Goddamnit,” Jason cursed, thunking his head on the edge of the roof, which was pretty uncomfortable considering his helmet was in the way and he was currently dangling by one arm about four stories up.

“I should’ve figured the sounds of murderous screaming were caused by you.” Dick said, crouching in front of Jason with a cheeky grin that crinkled his domino mask. “Having fun?”

“Right now? Worst time I’ve had in weeks,” Jason huffed, pulling himself up higher to reveal Damian hanging off his shoulder.

Dick’s smile dropped instantly. He reached out as Jason offered Damian to him, quickly taking the kid in the gentlest way that only Dick could pull off. Jason almost teased him for it, treating someone like Damian of all kids as fragile. He could be hit by a semi-truck and walk it off like it was an inconvenience.

But Dick was clearly on the brink of having a panic attack, and it wasn’t any fun teasing him when that was happening. All it did was rile him up in the ‘I’m going to curl in a corner and try not to cry’ way and not the superiorly funnier ‘I’m going to punch your teeth in’ way like Damian or Tim.

“He’s fine,” Jason assured him, rolling onto the roof as Dick pushed Damian somewhat upright. At least the kid could properly hold his head up now. “Just took a blow to the head, was barely out for a second. More stunned than anything, I think.”

“Being knocked out is not fine.” Dick stressed, holding onto Damian tighter as he started growling and weakly trying to push Dick away.

“He’s getting better!” Jason huffed, gesturing towards him. “The brat’ll live. Honestly, you didn’t treat the rest of us like glass this after we died.”

“You lost all pity for it when you tried to kill everyone and bring up your death every five minutes,” Dick deadpanned, his worry breaking the moment his gaze left Damian. “And for the record, I do worry about you the same way, it’s just that Dam--Robin here is still a child.”

“Don’t patronize me,” Damian grumbled, still trying to peel Dick’s hands off him.

“He speaks!” Jason gave a sarcastic cheer. “Think you’ll live to see another day?”

“What even happened?” Dick demanded, ignoring Jason’s comments as he stood, helping Damian to his feet.

“Took out some of Bane’s lackeys down there,” Jason said, pointing where he came from with his thumb. “Kid presumably ran off from the old man again and decided to grace me with his presence and help out. Just got a little distracted, he’s fine.”

“Please don’t tell me you killed the guy who did this,” Dick begged, giving Jason an apprehensive look.

“First of all, if I did, he’d deserve it.” Jason said, crossing his arms. “Second of all, no, I didn’t...I think,” He frowned, looking back towards the direction of the alley. “I didn’t actually check. Shot him a few times, though.”

“Okay, okay, stop,” Dick said, raising a hand up. “Every word out of your mouth is making me more anxious by the minute. I’d rather not know.”

“Oh, so when I kill people, it’s a heinous act,” Jason scoffed. “But when a certain ex-assassin lady and demon child kill someone, suddenly you can make excuses.”

“I do not make excuses--”

Damian, with one of his arms freed, batted at Dick with increasing violence until his brother finally released him with obvious hesitation.

“If you two are done bickering like schoolgirls over makeup,” Damian gruffed, pushing himself away. “I believe we are finished here.”

“You could’ve changed ‘schoolgirls’ to ‘Dick and anyone with eyes’ and your statement would’ve stayed the same.” Jason muttered.

“The only thing you know about makeup is how to cover bruises.” Dick retorted, hands on his hips.

“And you only know how to look like a drag queen with excessive glitter.”

“I’ll have you know I look amazing in drag.”

“Obviously, but that is literally the only makeup you know--”

Jason only cut himself off when Damian attempted to roll his eyes and leave without them, instead swaying and stumbling into his steps. He shot out a hand and grabbed Damian by the back of his cloak like the scruff of a cat, holding him up.

“You wanna do this the easy way or the hard way?” Jason said, pulling him back. “Because I’m not against harming a child if it means I can get you back to the Manor in three pieces at worst.”

Damian growled and looked like he was contemplating spitting on him. Jason held his gaze, knowing that if he took off his helmet to give a proper glare that Damian would take the moment of broken eye contact to bolt or something equally stupid.

Dick’s eyes shifted between the two of them with a mix of nervousness and confusion.

“...you will be the one to inform Orphan of the bonding meeting, and will be the one to keep her from doing anything abnormally ridiculous, and whatever other messes she causes during and after.” Damian negotiated slowly.

“Deal,” Jason released Damian, pushing him towards Dick. “Can we go now? I’m getting bored of this already.”

“You’re so impatient,” Dick tutted, looking like he was about to pick up Damian before thinking better of it and deciding to just wrap an arm around his side. “And what did he mean by bonding? Are you two actually getting along?” He gasped in a melodramatic fashion.

“We’re bonding over dying, the League of Assassins, and terrible mothers.” Jason said calmly as Dick pulled out his grappling gun, pausing at Jason’s words.

“And killing people,” Damian added.

“And killing people,” Jason nodded wisely. “We’re getting Cass in on it, too.” He said, sidestepping away from Damian’s attempt to kick him and muttering about using names.

“...as the responsible one, I cannot, in good faith, recommend having an amatuer group therapy session.” Dick said after a moment. “As your brother, however, I commend you getting a hobby that doesn’t involve maiming someone.”

“It’s not group therapy,” Jason scoffed, patting his belt down, wondering if he’d remembered to grab a grappling hook of his own. “We’re not softies who talk about our feelings to professionals like some commoners. We bad-mouth traumatic events like the well-adjusted people we are.” He said matter-of-factly.

“You can’t bully me about going to therapy but then get pissy when I so much as joke about leaving.”

“I can and we will.” Jason said, to which Damian nodded in agreement. “Someone in this family has to convince the little ones to find a non-murderous psychiatrist.”

“You realize that you count as one of the ‘little ones,’ right?” Dick raised a brow. “You’re younger than me.”

“I’m an adult.”

“You count as a little one in my heart.”

Jason and Damian made over exaggerated gagging noises, to which Dick rolled his eyes at, despite his smile, as he withdrew his grappling gun.

“Oh hush, both of you. We’ve got a certain someone to check for a concussion.” He chastised.

“I do not have a concussion.” Damian insisted.

“We’re checking, anyway.”

Damian groaned dramatically, Jason snickering as he shook his head, Dick giving his--their--little brother a light scolding.

They were all going to be the second death of him, he swears.

33 notes · View notes

bigfan-fanfic · 3 years

Note

Who is Batdad closest to outside Wayne manor? Does he have much of a life outside of the Wayne's? Who would Batdad consider his closest friends besides his family?

Honestly, Batdad doesn’t have much of a life outside of the Waynes. He doesn’t really have anyone other than the League to talk to. Clark would probably be his closest friend outside of his family because in a lot of ways they are similar.

Okay, let me talk about this. ( I came back up and decided to answer more concisely above and put this under a read more because it’s very, very long, and I cried three times while writing it and I have never had any visceral reaction to what I write ever before... oof. Just be warned if you ever feel anxiety or pressure that basically, that’s what follows)

Batdad basically denies his own wants and dreams because he wants to help Bruce. What this means is that no matter what Batdad wanted to be before (maybe he and Bruce were dating and he confessed his desire to be a writer and Bruce allowed himself the fantasy and said they’d buy an island somewhere, and Bruce would lounge on the beach and supply Batdad in kisses while he writes the best book ever), by the time Bruce gets back to Gotham from his training, Batdad has had to become what Bruce would have been if Thomas and Martha were there.

He’s a public figure and philanthropist, carrying the legacies of Martha and Thomas on his shoulders. He has to keep Martha’s business running - no, not just running, thriving - and deal with corrupt officials, corporate espionage, and greedy businesspeople all but threatening him to take Wayne Enterprises public so they can trade stock, all while making sure Thomas’ charities are well-funded and the money is actually going where it should (see earlier greed, corporate and personal). This is all while having to attend galas and functions and fundraisers and events or risk pissing off any one of these people who can turn his life into hell - missing one event can lead to being blacklisted and then that means nobody goes to a charity gala, which means that there’s no hospital built for those in the Narrows.

All this and also consider that everybody in high society sneers at you because the only reason you’re there is because you’re engaged to Bruce and you lived with him ever since Martha and Thomas died. You’re besieged on all sides, because the snobs hate you, the press wonders if you’re even qualified to run a business, and there’s always envy and hatred from below because why aren’t you doing MORE to help them? You haven’t been trained in this - your parents were upper-middle-class at best; you met Bruce by chance, so it’s just you and Alfred and this crushing, all-consuming PRESSURE and the fact that none of it is enough, you aren’t doing enough, it’ll never be enough.

Oh, and at this point, you’re probably only in your mid-twenties at the latest. And it only gets harder because Bruce is back and crime fighting and now you have to worry about him dying on patrol, so every night you’re there to assist him (sleep? don’t know her) and patch him up and support him every day even though he pretends a little too well to be a drunken boor and a cheating asshole (sometimes he isn’t even pretending) and help him when he gets frustrated and then you adopt a kid after your first day off in years (day off, what’s a day off, you haven’t slept enough since you were eighteen and Bruce left you and Batman came back but you haven’t said a word about it) and now there’s school and making sure Dick eats enough and is happy and doing good and doesn’t get overworked on patrol and stressing on whether or not Dick is okay whenever he leaves the Manor and again, none of it is ever enough.

You feel like you’re in your fifties by the time you hit thirty and the Justice League forms and that means SO much more work not just physically but emotionally because Bruce can’t meet anyone new without determining a thousand different ways to kill them if necessary (except for Talia, apparently. And Selina. And Silver Freaking St. Cloud. And Julie Morrison. And any number of dalliances Bruce has had because somehow they’re all smarter. or stronger, or maybe he just has a weakness for tall women who don’t take his crap. Is that what you do? Is your loyalty and consistency and unconditional love actually what lets Bruce walk away so often to a woman’s bed? Is it because he knows you will still be there? Is it because you have put so much of yourself into this life, into your children, into the Wayne Legacy of Perfection and Excellence that it would kill you to leave? Is it because you’re just another tool to him, one that will be quickly replaced when you succumb to sleep-deprivation, or that thing you’ve heard about in the news where people are dying from overwork so often the Japanese have a name for it, or the fact that you’re doing the work of ten, no, twenty people and not once have you ever complained to Bruce or begged him like any reasonable person would to stop this vigilante nonsense and actually LIVE), but now you have to coordinate meetings and a thousand different secret identities and make sure everything’s kosher and nobody’s fighting and of course Bruce has a beef with the nicest freaking guy in the League and Clark keeps coming to you to see if you can help them work it out.

Oh, and then there’s Talia, aka the thorn in your existence and her child who literally has tried to murder you for the crime of being married to Bruce years before he had even heard of Talia, and now on top of all the above, you have to balance getting to know the kid and be reminded day in and day out by him that you aren’t enough, that Talia has such a deeper connection to Bruce, that you are an obstacle to his happiness, that she’s so much smarter and stronger than you, that you are weak and everything you touch becomes weak and tainted by you. And not to mention that you still aren’t doing enough because Gotham’s underprivileged are screaming in pain from everything they deal with and at least you are fed and clothed and you have a family you can support and you are rich and you need to be doing MORE.

And nobody else in the League can even come close to understanding you because wow, you do so much, do you ever take a break? You come this close to crying when Oliver remarks that if he had to do that much work, he’d go back to the island he was stranded on for five years because he’s joking. For anyone else your life would be a living hell and he’s joking. How do you do so much; do you ever sleep; hah, Bruce, your husband is showing you up! And this is when they even acknowledge you, and you feel like a major-league prick for even thinking these thoughts because Bruce and the League put their lives on the line every day (oh god they’re always in danger and the stress of losing your boys - which has happened to you already - and Bruce and your friends who are the only ones you can ever actually talk to without worrying that you’ll give away someone’s identity) and you’re complaining about a little bit of paperwork? You get to go to parties and meetings while your husband fights to save lives and you’re complaining? How selfish are you? All you do, everything you do, it isn’t enough, it’s never enough, there’s always MORE MORE MORE and it never ever stops.

Jason is dead, Jason comes back, Dick is beaten within an inch of his life, the Joker kidnaps Tim and you are hanging by a thread because the last time the Joker took one of your kids and you couldn’t find them meant that there was an empty bed and too many memories but no time to grieve because Bruce threw himself into work without a care and you needed to do even MORE because you can’t lose him too. And even the League was supposed to help with this but it doesn’t because you can’t bear to lose anyone, because they’re family and not only that, the world has gotten careless because the supers will save them and crime is actually going UP somehow and if even one of the League dies, a city could be overrun by now because the police and government are all but useless and the skies are filled with supervillains and the only thing stopping the world from falling into utter disrepair is the League, and thus you. And through all of this you have to be doing better, have to be doing MORE because every new thing means all the rest of your work becomes that much harder and you haven’t slept properly in a decade now and you feel ancient but still, you can’t complain, you haven’t earned the right to complain because you are never hungry and you never go without and there are so many people who need your help and charities that depend on you to function and kids that need fatherly advice and affection and a League that needs managing and you don’t have time for a breakdown because if you’re gone for too long everything collapses and everyone you love suffers and forget about therapy because who the FUCK could you ever talk to about any of this without either revealing a hundred secret identities and putting everything at risk or sound like a whiny crybaby?

Selina and Talia are back and hovering around your husband again and they flirt with him like you don’t exist and it’s not his fault and you love him but you see Talia every day in Damian’s voice and manner and don’t even think about talking to Bruce about his infidelity because he has so many more important things to worry about and he’s already apologized profusely and anything else makes you feel selfish and you HAVEN’T SLEPT in what feels like all your life and every moment not filled with work is filled with stress about work and worry because every time you don’t see your boys is a moment they can be dead and you don’t know it and every moment Bruce isn’t at the Watchtower is another moment Lex Luthor has to enact some horrifiying plan or the Joker gets ahold of a nuclear weapon or something else unforseeably terrible happens and it is TOO MUCH but you still need to be doing MORE because it isn’t enough and you aren’t enough and nothing is ever enough.

Is there even a you anymore? There used to be a kid there who just wanted to help his friend when he lost his parents. A kid who got left behind to stay with that friend. A teenager with dreams and hopes and wishes and a sweet boyfriend who could maybe get past his grief and lead a good life with you. A young man with the chance to stop his lover from leaving, to stay with him and not give in. Where did he go? Is he still there, underneath the years? Or is he gone, and this being made of stress and fear and feelings of inadequacy and stifled complaints and sadness gone unsaid and trauma left to fester all that you are? That kid you once were gets further and further away with everything you do to help, every time you keep silent because what good would it do to scream the way you want to, the way you’ve needed to for so many years but never let yourself?

And yes, your boys and your husband make it better, make it worthwhile, but it remains that you feel old, you’ve been tired since you were still 19. Your days are consumed with stress and your nights are filled with fear. And you can never say this now because it has been years, and you’ve lost that chance. The guilt would throw Bruce off his game and if he’s off his game, he could die and all of this would be for nothing. Quite against your will, you’ve been trapped in a no-win situation, and even death is no escape because you know that without you, it all comes crashing down and game over. You are Atlas, holding up the world and knowing that you have just enough strength to hold it up for eternity. And no one will release you from your prison.

But you have to endure it, and smile while you do so because if Bruce ever knew (or if he even cared to look), it’d all go falling down. You are the support, and the support’s support, but no one ever thinks that you might need assistance. What do you have going on? Being a dad? Working? Attending parties? It isn’t enough and you know it isn’t enough and everybody knows that it isn’t enough and they always, always need MORE.

I wonder now how Batdad does it. How he doesn’t break down crying. And part of that is because he is fictional, and I never thought about what it would be like to go through that level of pressure every day of your life. I hope someday Bruce comes to his senses. That even if he doesn’t let go of his grief, maybe he stops being Batman. And stops training Robins. Because yes, he gave them a home, but he manipulated them into being what he is. Who knows what good Dick could have done if he had just been Bruce’s adopted son. Maybe a philanthropist. Maybe he just would’ve had a happy life instead of one where he could die every day. Where he constantly has to reopen the wound of his parents’ deaths to convince him to keep at it. I want them to realize that they don’t have to, anymore.

But they won’t. Because they aren’t real. And they exist for our entertainment. And because we’ll keep reading the comics and watching the movies and playing the games, Bruce will always be Batman and never come to terms with his parents’ deaths in a healthy way and there will always be more threats to existence and even just to him personally.

And Batdad too, is trapped.

93 notes · View notes

otpnessmess · 4 years

Text

For you, there’s nothing I wouldn't do

Here it is finally! The first part of the Jasonette fake dating AU I had promised. I’m working on the following parts already as I will have a couple of weeks with a lot of free time. I’m so sorry for disappearing. Enjoy!

Ao3 - Masterlist

“You’ve officially lost your mind, Jay, I swear to God.”

When Marinette had agreed to get up early on a Sunday morning because Jason had asked her to hang out, she didn’t think she’d regret it five seconds into meeting her best friend at their favorite restaurant. And she hadn’t yet, but it was very close.

“Nette, please, I’m begging you right now. Do you want me to kneel and plead? Because I will, don’t try me.” His blue eyes had always been her weakness and the puppy face he was making at her right now almost made her agree on the spot to whatever insane plan he had come up with. The keyword being almost.

“Alright, let me just reiterate to make sure I’m understanding. Your father is hosting a gala in a month and you want me to pretend to be your girlfriend?” Marinette tried to keep her face as straight and serious as possible but it was proving hard since the words she had just said sounded utterly ridiculous.

“Pretty much, yeah. So, will you? I swear I’ll pay you if I have to, I just need you to help me out with this.” He had started to look hopeful since she had yet to outright deny him his request. “You know I love you Bug, and you’re the only one I can trust with something like this.”

Damn, he was good at telling her exactly what she liked to hear, and Mari was just not strong enough to say no to him, though she did plan to at least make him sweat a bit more for it. “Oh really? And what if I asked you for, I don’t know, a new car?”

Her forced attempt at being difficult hadn’t flown under Jason’s radar as he seemed to pick up on it and smirked. “We both know you would never ask for that since you refuse to let me pay for anything every time we go out, but if you did ask for that, know that I’m ready to do whatever you wish me to do. Do you maybe want an apartment? You did mention wanting to stop paying rent… ”

Despite the teasing tone in his voice paired with the sly smirk on his face Marinette knew he was dead serious which, even if it flattered her that her friend would even think about doing such a thing for her, made her backtrack on being difficult immediately.

“No! Argh, you’re impossible. Fine, I’ll follow along to whatever your brilliant plan is, but don’t you dare buy me an apartment, you crazy knobhead.” The look she shot at him tried to be venomous but seemed to be ineffective when the brightest grin took over Jason’s face as he moved to sit by her side to squish the living daylights out of the tiny woman.

“I swear I don’t know what I did to deserve you Nette, I love you.”

That earned him a playful smack on the arm as Marinette gave in and chuckled at his antics. “I love you too, you goofball. Now, get off of me and finish your breakfast.”

The man sat across her once again looking like the cat that got the canary, Cheshire grin in place. “You’re the best."

She pretended not to notice the way her heart paused for a beat when she saw the way Jason was looking at her, with caring eyes as if she was incredibly precious. Instead, the woman hid her face behind her mug of coffee.

"W-why do you need me to do this anyway? What do you need a fake girlfriend for?”

Jason’s demeanor instantly changed, his shoulders squared up and he frowned. “The annual gala my father holds for the company’s investors and partners is always full of old men who are full of themselves-”

“Doesn’t that remind me of someone?”

“Oh shut up, I at least have a good reason for it. They’re nothing more than a bunch of old hags who like to brag 24/7, and since this gala is in their "honor” they can bring guests with them. If I have to go by another year hearing them pitch their daughters and grand-daughters to me hoping I’ll date one of them, I’ll simply kill one of them. Some of the girls over the years have been nice but for every decent one you can actually talk to, you have at least 9 others doing the most ridiculous things to try and get your attention. I assume it’s what they are asked to do but I swear… And everyone else gets out of it too. Dick is already married to Kor'i, Tim is forever married to his job and Damian is not old enough for most of them. So that leaves me, the handsome Jason Todd, to carry the family’s weight on my shoulders.“

She snorted at the theatrical sigh he let out before laying his head on the table, immediately regretting it as he looked up at her with a glint in his eyes. "That’s where you, my dear Miss Dupain-Cheng come in. If I have a girlfriend, those girls will have to effectively back off of me as well, and I won’t have to restrain myself from being incredibly rude to them.”

“As if you could actually restrain yourself from being rude.”

Whether he didn’t hear her or just decided to ignore her comment Mari didn’t know, but once the monologue had been delivered, he leaned back on his seat with his signature smirk. “I’m a genius, I know.”

It took a whole lot from Marinette not to smack her dumbass of a friend again, but even she had to admit no one deserved to have their space invaded as she knew Jason had had in some of the other events his father organized, and if he was being truthful with her, then this gala was shaping to be even worse in that regard. If she could help her friend it would be enough for her, but in doing this she would also have an opportunity to design a gown to wear and hopefully get some people interested in her designs. Maybe she didn’t regret agreeing to this that much anymore.

“You’re one hell of a crazy person, Jay. You’re lucky you’re my best friend.” She rolled her eyes and nudged his leg with hers under the table with a smile. “We’ll have to do some planning this month and you better be ready. I’m not meeting your family for the first time as your fake girlfriend without running through each and every way this could catastrophically end.”

His shoulders relaxed as he nudged her leg back, relief flooding his face seeing her so committed. “Don’t worry Bug, they will love you, and I’ll explain everything to them after this is over, but if they are in on it from the start I just know one of my brothers will screw it up. I think we can pull it off though, and you know I’m always up for a challenge.”

The already familiar confidence rush that ran through Marinette whenever Jason reassured her that everything would be fine made an appearance once more, and at that moment she completely trusted themselves to be able to make do with this crazy-ass plan. After all, Jay was stubborn and always ready to jump in head-first into the weirdest situations.

Newsflash. This time he wasn’t.

Jason had known it was risky to ask his best friend to play pretend so he could get rid of the sticky girls from the gala.

Not because he thought she would refuse, but because of his own feelings.

Truth is, he was in love with Marinette and had been ever since five months into their friendship they encountered two thugs trying to rob a teenager on their way to school. Jason had put one of them down but, before he could go for the second one, Marinette already had knocked him out.

Her breathing was just a bit labored from throwing the man over her shoulder and one of her pigtails had come off from where the robber had grabbed it, but then she turned to wink at him with a smile before going to see if the teen was alright. Red Hood could only feel the sound of his heartbeat in his ears.

Knowing Marinette was potentially able to kick his ass at any given moment had made him feel all kinds of things, and he was already a goner by the time she was back by his side.

That same night, and back in his bed, Jason was mulling over the earlier events. Read: thinking about Marinette. He had never felt so flustered around the tiny woman and it had proven to be a hard task to get her out of his head even when she had left for her own house several hours ago.

One thing led to another and soon he found himself reminiscing about the past months spent in Marinette’s company. How she always seemed to brighten up any room she walked into, making him feel like he should look away but being unable to. Her caring nature taking over whenever someone in need of help was in the vicinity, the tenderness with which she treated people’s injuries, be it physical or emotional.

Jason remembered the first time he had been at the receiving end of it. It had been the time when his identity as Red Hood was also revealed to her.

In his defense, he hadn’t expected Marinette to arrive early to his flat for their movie night only to find him trying to get the cuts all over his abdomen and arms to stop bleeding. Time seemed to freeze as they stared at each other, one sitting on a barstool at the kitchen isle, the other standing at the door with a bag of snacks in her arms. Marinette, being the quick-witted and resourceful person she was, recovered astoundingly quickly from her stupor and started chastising him while tending to the cuts herself while he could only look at her in awe.

Later, when he explained where he got injured, she didn’t seem fazed by discovering his identity. If anything she seemed…smug?

“What’s with that face? I expected more of a reaction:”

Her smile only grew at that as she put on the last bandage around his arm. “I’m glad you finally told me, but I kind of…already knew? I mean, I had my suspicions. You two had roughly the same measurements as far as I could tell, you also happened to go MIA whenever there was an emergency a time too many for it to feel like a coincidence. Also the little stunt you pulled the other day talking to me in the mask? You should’ve at least tried to fake your voice or something.” Once she was done she patted his head with a wink and left him to process everything while she prepared the popcorn.

That wink had been so cheeky it left him swooning, heartbeat pounding in his ears.

Wait. That had felt familiar.

Oh.

Jason was brought back to the present with such force he thought someone had slapped him. Laying on his bed, staring at the ceiling at 3 am he couldn’t tiptoe around the issue anymore. He wondered how he hadn’t reached this conclusion much earlier.

He was in love with Marinette.

He was in love with his best friend.

Dear God, he was so fucked.

That had been the moment he accepted he was so utterly in love with Marinette, and even though Jason had hoped that what he thought was a very one-sided love would subside eventually, with each passing day where he got to know her better and better he only fell harder for her.

Why was he even thinking about all of this? Oh right. He had asked Mari to play pretend as his girlfriend that same afternoon.

What could possibly go wrong?

Marinette had taken it upon her to have their lie be as believable as possible, which meant she wanted them to at least plan out what they’d do if certain situations arose while they were navigating the gala. What this meant was that the following month they had spent a whole lot of time together, maybe too much for Jason’s sanity to remain as stable as it could.

Even if he was used to meeting her at least twice a week and spending their weekly movie night together, Mari practically lived in his apartment now. And he wasn’t complaining at all, but by the gods, if it wasn’t so damn distracting to have her around. She would often keep him company while asking questions about the people who would attend the gala, working on her dress for it, or simply walking around the house jokingly complaining about how Jason tasteless choice of furniture and decorations made the living room look like a yard sale.

Oh, and there was also all the teasing. There had been a consistent amount of it between them before, but now it had turned into a constant stream of cheeky comments, smirk exchanges and usually a smack or two from Mari.

All in all, Jason had lived through both the most blissful yet most frustrating month of his life and the worst of it had yet to arrive, though time did pass by way faster than he would’ve hoped for.

And just like that, the big night was upon them.

And that’s it! Hope you liked this little thing and look forward to the next parts! Thank you a lot for reading <3

Tag List

@vixen-uchiha @18-fandoms-unite-08 @tbehartoo @queen-of-the-trash-planet-tm @queenmj10 @mochegato

#jasonette #jason x marinette #marinette dupain cheng #miraculous ladybug #ml x dc #liswrites #for you theres nothing i wouldnt do #pt 1 #maribat

284 notes · View notes

ali-kitkat · 5 years

Text

Fear Toxin

Marinette knew that Scarecrow’s fear toxin was dangerous. She’d been dating Damian long enough to figure that out herself. She’d been in Gotham half as long to know the rouges weren’t to be trifled with, unfortunately her class hadn’t felt the same way.

The class trip was supposed to be a nice summer break after Papillion’s defeat. Gabriel Agreste and Nathalie Sancoeur had been revealed as terrorists and arrested. Meanwhile Adrien Agreste had revealed himself as Chat Noir as a way to save face, to show that he hadn’t aided and abetted a criminal and that he wasn’t like his father.

He had immediately shot himself in the foot, figuratively speaking. After he revealed himself, he went to Ladybug to profess his love and hadn’t accepted the stern no as an answer. When she confessed that she was in a relationship, he lost all composure of cool and started to rant and rave about how she was his and only his.

There had been a paparazzi nearby and filmed his meltdown, the video had gone viral and ruined his image. He eventually went out of his way to stalk Marinette after forcing Plagg into giving him her secret identity. She had filed a police report and gotten a restraining order against him but that hadn’t stopped him not until she had taken the ring and called the police again. He was in jail for stalking and she still had nightmares about him.

Back to the class antagonizing the villain, they hadn’t seemed to realize that Gotham’s Rouges weren’t anything like akuma victims. When they had realized it had already been too late and Marinette, who was at the front of the class, was gassed with a different strain of the toxin, Essence de Trauma he called it. This strain was enough to recreate your most traumatic memory and Marinette knew she had enough memories of Adrien to last a lifetime.

Marinette was on the phone with Damian discussing the situation before he appeared. She dropped her phone.

“You know you’re always going to be mine.”

She ran, she knows she shouldn’t have but Adrien terrified her regardless whether he was a hallucination or not. She’d sprinted until she hit a dead end before realizing that whenever she paused during her run Adrien was always there. The twists and turns she took did nothing to put distance between them. He was always at her side.

“You know you can’t get away from me milady. I’m always going to be wherever you are.”

She swung at him, hoping that a punch would distract him long enough to get away. Ineffective, he just danced out of reach into her blind spot. Swearing, she turned to see him, but he wasn’t anywhere. Suddenly she felt arms around her waist.

“Aw. Didn’t know you missed me that much bugaboo. You should know better than to attack me like that. It was ineffective before you took the ring. What makes you think it’s going to work this time?”

Flailing around, she ripped herself out of the arms holding onto to her. They were strong and didn’t let go easily. Swinging around to face the person holding onto her, she saw Adrien. Lunging she threw herself at him, they fell to the ground. She landed on something blunt and it knocked the air out of her lungs. Adrien was wheezing as well. Scrambling back onto her feet she took advantage of the fact that he had paused to catch his breath. She brought her foot down on his back, knocking him back onto the ground and the air out of his lungs again. Stretching her leg back, this time trained to kick him in the face. Her attempt failed as he caught her leg still settled on the ground and pulled out from beneath her. She fell and hit the ground, hard. He settled over her, his arms by her sides.

“Now that isn’t very nice princess, I’ll have to teach you some manners.”

She thrashed around, violently trying to escape the arms that had her caged on the ground under him. It was futile she realized. She was tired from running and attacking him wiped her out, as well as being knocked on the ground twice. She felt the sharp pain in her neck before the world went dark.

*~*~*~*

Damian lived with his father long enough to know that Scarecrow was dangerous, and his fear toxin was enough to make even the strongest of his family weak. He didn’t want his angel anywhere near Gotham when Scarecrow was free. Her superhero partner was deranged enough to stalk her while she was a civilian and the emotional scars from that hadn’t healed. Scarecrow’s toxin could do a lot of damage to her barely healed psychosis.

He knew that her class wasn’t exactly the brightest, they typically ran to akuma attacks instead of away, and that Mari tended to follow to keep them out of harm’s way. So, when he heard that Scarecrow broke out, he was on high alert and on the phone with Mari to keep tabs on her. He heard Scarecrow explain which strain of the toxin he was using, and the phone hit the ground before he heard the footfalls heading away from it.

He rushed out of the manor, not bothering to put on the Robin suit, and just grabbing an antidote for the fear toxin. He had found where she was quickly enough, the dead end of an alleyway. She was throwing a punch at thin air and he knew he had to go about the situation with caution.

Grabbing her by the waist he tried to whisper words of reassurance to her, but that failed when she flailed so violently and chaotically that he was practically forced to open his arms to let her go. She swung around and lunged at him, they both landed on the ground out of breath. The process of catching his breath didn’t go well, as Marinette stomped on his back, knocking him back onto the ground and the air out of his lungs, again. He saw her leg stretch to kick him again, though this time in the ribs and he pulled her other leg out from underneath her. She landed on her back on the ground as he boxed her in, not wanting her to run away or attack him again. He administered the antidote after she had tired herself out from the thrashing. He could tell that as soon as the antidote had taken effect that she passed out. He picked her up and carried her back to the manor.

It had been hours since she passed out and she still had yet to wake. She was wrapped up in various blankets asleep in his bed. He wouldn’t leave her, not after the toxin had made her that terrified that she had attacked whatever she had seen. He suspected that she had seen Adrien. Essence de Trauma was a terrible strain of the fear toxin, the tamer version of the trauma toxin. He was grateful that it wasn’t the stronger version, that one left people as husks and even the Scarecrow himself wasn’t fond it.

Not leaving her side meant that Alfred tended his wounds in his bedroom. They weren’t terrible, a little back pain and bruising was all he was experiencing. He loved his girlfriend. The emotional pain of having Marinette look at him like he was her worst nightmare was the most painful thing he experienced overall.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when she started to shift. She bolted upright and started to glance around the room and when her eyes settled on him, she let out a relieved sigh.

“Dames?” She sniffled as she wrapped the blankets tighter around herself. “Can you hold me?”

He climbed on the bed beside her, pulling her into his arms. “I’m here angel.”

She rested her head on his chest listening to his heartbeat, it wasn’t erratic nor was it calm; no, it was a mix somewhere in-between. She tightened her grip on him, not realizing that he winced. She didn’t want to let go lest Adrien show up and torment her once again.

“Angel, I know you’re scared but I’m going to need you to loosen your grip just a little. Your kick to my back left a bit of a bruise.”

“What?” She questioned frantically, pulling away.

He swore under his breath, that wasn’t how he was going to tell her that she attacked him. She was going to be horrified that she injured him. She looked up at him fear and worry in her eyes.

“Love, it wasn’t your fault, you were under the effects of the toxin. You didn’t know- “

“Damian what did I do?” She cut him off, glaring at him. He’d think she was angry from the way she sounded, but the tears building up said otherwise.

“I don’t hold any of it against you love. When you dropped your phone, I tracked you down. I’m guessing the toxin made you see Adrien because you were attacking air before I grabbed you. Thinking back on it I probably shouldn’t have, but I didn’t want you to run off and get hurt.” He spoke softly. “When you wrenched yourself from my arms you tackled me to the ground and got right back up. While I was catching my breath, you brought your foot down on my back. Remember I don’t hold anything against you.”

“How can you not? I thought you were Adrien. I attacked you!”

“While you were experiencing the effects of fear toxin! It certainly doesn’t count. Especially since the strain he dosed you with was made to make you relive your most traumatic moment.” He defended; he wasn’t going to allow her to put herself down. Not after Adrien.

“You are not at fault; I could’ve handled the situation better. I could have gotten father or one of the others to get you the antidote, but I didn’t. You were terrified and lashing out, protecting yourself and you did a damn good job of it too.”

Damian pulled her closer, pressing a kiss to her forehead which resulted in her sinking down into his chest.

“By the way you kick like a mule.” He added, trying to lift the mood. She let a muffled laugh and he smiled down at her. “Are you feeling better?”

“Loads better. Thank you, Dames. The only thing that’s keeping me sane right now is you.” She responded curling further into his side as she started yawning. He pressed another kiss to her forehead and fell asleep holding her as close as possible to him.

It had barely been a half hour that they’d been asleep when Jason busted through the door without knocking. Damian and Mari both bolted upright glaring angrily at him, though Mari’s expression carried a little more fear in it than it usually did. Their expressions softened when they saw how worried he looked.

“Todd is there a reason you’ve busted into my room when you know Marinette here is still riding the effects of the toxin?” Damian started lividly. Jason waved his hands in a calm down manner as if that did anything to tame either one of the young adults on the bed.

“We just received word that Adrien Agreste broke out of jail baby bird. I felt you both needed to hear about it as soon as possible. He’s headed here.” Jason announced.

*~*~*~*

This is just one of those ideas that hit me at three in the morning that I decided to write. I’m leaving it as a oneshot because this is all that I came up with, but if anyone wants to continue it they can.

tagging: @fangs4damemories @shizukiryuu @disorganizedkitten @tv-zombie-blog

#maribat #damian x marinette #marinette x damian #maridami #daminette #oneshot #ficlet #ali-kitkat's writing #my writing

730 notes · View notes

batfamily--headcanons · 4 years

Note

I really want to understand this universe(the golden era I think) so could you guide me on which comics I should read

I will first admit that I am no expert on comics and I’m not particularly good at keeping track of the different eras. However, I can give you a list of what I think are some of the most classic Batman/Batfam/DC stories and the ones I just adore.

Batman: A Death In the Family-Classic story, everyone pretty much knows of this story but not everyone has read it. This is when Jason Todd (Robin #2) is brutally murdered by the Joker and it is the first introduction to Robin #3, Tim Drake. It gets really weird in the middle, when the Joker becomes an ambassador for Iran, but stick with it because Tim’s introduction is one of the most interesting Robin origin stories.

Batman: Death Of the Family-This is a different story despite the way too similar name. It’s newer and more gruesome than you might expect. This is the story where the Joker taunts the entire Batfamily and kidnaps them all. It has the whole Batfam in it which is what made me want to pick it up and read it in the first place and is definitely a great way to understand the characters as all of their greatest fears are revealed in this story. There are multiple issues spanning across different series from Batman to Red Hood and The Outlaws, so I definitely recommend getting the trade paperback of it because it’s easier than hunting down each issue in order.

Batman: The Long Halloween-This is such a classic story with lots of Batman Rogues running around and causing mayhem. They’re also speculating that this is potentially what the new Robert Pattinson Batman movie is based on, so it might be good to read if you’re excited for that movie (I have mixed feelings, but I’m hopeful). Also as a huge Agents of SHIELD and comic fan in general, I love so much of what Jeph Loeb does.

Tom King’s current Batman run-Pretty good until the wedding issue and then shit goes off the rails fast and it angered a lot of fans, myself included. Nevertheless, it did have some great moments. He also wrote Heroes in Crisis, which I do not recommend at all.

Batman:The Killing Joke-The animated movie did this story so dirty and I will always be mad. It’s one of the many possible Joker origin stories and the most popular by far. It’s not a very long story, but it absolutely regarded as a classic and it is when Barbara gets shot by the Joker so it’s also important for a major change in canon as well. Solid writing, beautiful art. I could go on about this forever. If you do decide to watch the movie, skip the first half, it’s ridiculous filler (with a ridiculous 90′s stereotypical gay character to boot).

Dick Grayson as Agent 37-This was a pretty fun storyline all things considered. It’s great if you want to fully understand Dick’s character without getting confused about the baggage that is having all of the Batfam characters around. For some people, they get the Robins easily confused (part of that is DC’s fault for literally drawing the same character but just taller or shorter) so it shines the spotlight on Dick.

Red Hood and The Outlaws (The one with Roy and Kori)-I so badly want to recommend this because I love these characters together, but Lobdell’s writing is not always spot-on and his depiction of Kori is comic book misogyny at its finest at times. Maybe read the first few issues just to get a better feel for post-Lazarus pit Jason, but it’s not the best series.

Red Hood:The Lost Years:I am a slut for Jason Todd angst, I won’t lie and so this is one of my personal favourites and it helps to establish resurrected Jason’s character to new readers. You really see how he struggled after his death and Talia al Ghul is there too which is even better. Jason is one of the most interesting and complex characters in all of DC comics and they almost never do anything exciting with his character so this series is a breath of fresh air.

Batman:Under the Red Hood-This is about Jason’s return to Gotham after being resurrected and it’s great. The conflict between him and Bruce once he learns that it’s Jason under the hood is so well-written and you find yourself agreeing with both of them to an extent. Another great Jason Todd story. There’s also an animated movie based on this as well and it’s pretty good all things considered (I have Jay’s speech to Bruce at the end memorized so that should tell how much I enjoy it).

A lot of the new 52 stuff is not great. Tim’s new 52 Titans team were just kind of meh and like I said, Red Hood and the Outlaws had potential but was brought down by not so great writing. I wish I could remember some good Tim or Damian stories right now, but I’m blanking. Super Sons is newer, but I liked it quite a bit. It’s about Damian, Bruce’s blood son, and Jon Kent, Superman and Lois’ son fighting crime and going on adventures together. It’s a nice bit of fluff in the darkness that comics has become these days.

Harley Quinn (The Jimmy Palmiotti/Amanda Conner series)-This one is probably one of my favourite new 52 releases. I love where they’ve taken Harley’s character, she’s more than just the Joker’s girlfriend and this series shows it. It’s not too serious and most of the time, it can be downright weird, but it’s so fun you can’t help but love it. I own every single issue from the Conner/Palmiotti run. I haven’t read it since they left, so if anyone has, let me know if it’s any good because from what I did see of it, I wasn’t super impressed.

I do have some non-DC recs too so I’ll put them here as well because why not

House of X/Powers of X-The best X-Men story in recent memory and I love the X-Men so much so this makes me so happy. They’ve done some very interesting things with the characters and I love the acknowledgement that Franklin Richards is technically a mutant and the catty way that Cyclops does it is great.

House of M-One of the best X-Men stories and probably what WandaVision will be taking a lot of inspiration from. If you like alternate universes and reality bending, this is for you.

Matt Fraction’s run on the Hawkeye solo series-This is what made me fall in love with Clint and Kate as characters. It shows that the Hawkeyes are not useless Avengers and it has a bit of humour to it, which I love. The Kate Bishop follow-up to this is pretty good too, but I haven’t finished it yet so I can’t vouch for the whole series.

Deadpool Killustrated Series-This is just Wade murdering his way through the Marvel Universe and then through the classic literary characters that those characters were based on. It’s dark, funny, strange story that’s a whole lot of fun without having to worry about keeping up with 80 years of canon.

I hope this helped in some small way. I am always up for talking comic recommendations since none of my real life friends care about comics. If anyone has any recommendations for me, I am all ears. I read stuff from all over so brand is no issue. I don’t really feed into that Marvel vs DC stuff anymore. Both companies have their strengths and weaknesses and that’s okay. It’s really late here and I’m procrastinating writing a paper so do forgive any spelling errors or completely incoherent sentences :) Stay safe everyone!

46 notes · View notes

spoiler-alert-i-love-bats · 4 years

Text

Immediate Calm

Cassandra never liked waiting, despite being known as the most patient in the family. Being high above Gotham, having to stay completely still while listening to the traffic and terse voices made her head ache. Every car horn shot through her brain, every angry pedestrian interrupting her train of thought. She couldn’t stand having to sit and listen to the chaos. You’d think after all the long nights alone in dark rooms, trying to forget the pain of her gunshot wounds, she would have become better at it.

But sitting here, on one of the tallest rooftops in Gotham, it took effort not to fidget. To hide it from the man who sat next to her.

Cassandra looked at Red Robin sitting next to her. Despite having a rough start, she liked Tim. They had a few fights they had to get past, a weird drug overdose that almost made her come onto him, but after everything, he always tried to include her in the family. Cass appreciated his kindness. Since being adopted by Bruce, she appreciated it even more. It didn’t take long to realize that his kindness came from being forgotten. He had been the one last thought of, in both the Drake and Wayne households. When she first noticed, she was confused. He was the smartest among them, she would have even thought him worthy of being the favorite. Bruce was beyond lucky to have such natural genius in his son, but to her astonishment, he never acknowledged it.

Her, Steph—and surprisingly Jason—shouldn’t be the only ones looking out for him. However, this seemed to be how it turned out. Dick cared of course, but the Titans had become a huge priority as of late so he couldn’t be around as often. Cass let out a deep breath, at least she was still here. She was here to understand Tim while Jason gave him some of that tough brotherly love. And Steph? Steph was just good for Tim. Cass was beyond relieved that Steph never left his side, even after their breakup.

On days where Bruce couldn’t afford the time, Cass made sure that she and Tim patrolled together. He made the waiting easier, and she hoped that she offered some good, if not quiet, company. Tonight though, he seemed tense. His eyes weren’t as focused on the world below, and his movements were slower than normal. If there was one thing she admired about Tim, it was how quick, yet controlled his movements were. She considered herself graceful, but he took it to a whole new level. Cass frowned under her mask as she looked at him now, he had no grace in his stature.

“Tim.” Cass said, grasping his attention. He smiled. It seemed forced.

“Hmm?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He replied, earning a glare from his sister. Even behind the mask he could see it. He laughed. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m fine.” He looked down over the ledge of the roof to the ground, as if to end the conversation. Cass observed him as he did so, his brows were drawn too close together, his lips parted from lack of breath. He was hurt—ribs most likely—even though Tim rarely got hurt on normal patrols.

His thoughts were far away, distracting him.

“Timothy.” Cassandra reached out and grasped his shoulder, maybe a little too tightly, and looked at him pointedly. “Talk.” She knew that he would talk to her, because even though he could lie to the rest of the family, didn’t mean he could lie to her. They were too similar to not catch each other.

Tim’s back stiffened, before relaxing, his form slouching forward.

He looked so much more tired than Cassandra had given him credit for.

His hair fell in his face, but it didn’t hide the bags under his eyes as he removed his mask. His baby blue eyes looked glossed in the lights of the buildings across from them, revealing the tears forming in his eyes.

“I’m just so tired.” He whispered, fiddling with the mask in his hands, making Cass wonder if he normally hid that tendency from her like she did. “I’m tired of pretending that I’m not tired. That I’m not hurt, that everything hurts.”

Cassandra turned to face him, straddling the parapet, her right leg dangling over the rooftop. She reached up and wiped under his eyes. Tim’s brows twitched slightly, the only sign of confusion telling Cass that he didn’t realize he was crying. “Bruce?” She asked. He nodded.

He’s demanded so much of you.

“I’ve given him everything.”

“I know.”

“It’s not enough.” He murmured.

Cassandra paused. Rubbing her fingers down the back of his head, through the hair at the nape of his neck. She waited until his breathing evened before saying, “I know.”

It never will be.

“I should be better than this.” Tim said, wiping his nose. “I should be able to handle criticism, it’s what makes you better. But I just…” Tim looked up at Cassandra, his broken gaze meeting hers. His lip trembled, barely, but it was enough to make the man in front of her look just like the boy she met long ago. “I just hate seeing him disappointed in me again, and again, and again.” Tim’s gaze dropped back down to his hands and a sob ripped through his throat against his will. “All because I’m not like the others.”

At those words, Cass ripped off her mask, her eyes darkened. She rushed forward and wrapped Tim up in a hug, her legs over his, one hand in his hair, the other rubbing his back.

Tim broke.

“It’s just always me.” He whimpered.

“I know.”

Cass wasn’t good with words, hell, she couldn’t even use them for most of her life. She used to get frustrated, because she couldn’t communicate normally. Her limitations seemed endless—but through her teachings she found a different way to speak. Movement, touch, even silence. Movement was how she talked, how she lived. So the only thing she could think of to comfort Tim was to get as close to him as possible, to hold him tightly, close to her. It worked. He cried into her shoulder, his relaxed muscles telling her that he finally felt safe, vulnerable, finally. Tim hadn’t let himself be exposed like this, let himself cry, in far too long.

Cass didn’t project her emotions onto people, she wasn’t used to it, but she still cried. Sometimes you just have to let it out. Steph saw her cry once, but Cass is okay with that. It isn’t something she’s ashamed of. There was something going on in this family, something that kept convincing her brothers that they couldn’t let themselves hurt. That breaking down was a weakness.

It broke Cassandra’s heart to think about how long Tim must have been holding this in. God, she would be lying if she said she wasn’t terrified. Tim was known to be the most analytical and emotionally controlled member of the family. His work had always been precise, thought out, and most of all—free of emotional choices. He never let his emotions get the better of him, an annoying habit Bruce never broke.

So Cass didn’t normally witness his emotional side. And now, here he was, crying in her arms.

Cass wanted to ask questions, so many rested on her tongue, but she felt that that would only cause more distress.

Be gentle, be gentle, be gentle.

As carefully as she could, Cass kept tracing shapes along Tim’s back, counting his vertebrae, playing with his hair. She saw Steph play with his hair all the time when they were dating, so it must be something he likes. Cass had seen the muscles in his back and shoulders relax when Steph touched his hair. Cass thought it fascinating. When Dick hugged Barbara, when Ace licked Damian, the same thing happened.

Immediate calm.

The physical touch she experienced as a child never gave her that kind of reaction. She never understood it, but she longed for it. Bruce had hugged her before, but she always felt like that was another thing she had to perform perfectly.

As Tim slowly started to stop crying, Cass couldn’t help the relief that flooded through her. She expected him to pull away afterwards, but instead he buried his head into her neck, his eyelashes fluttering against her skin. Whenever his shoulders tensed even the slightest bit, Cass raked her fingers through his hair again, pulling a sigh out of him and a shiver down his spine. They stayed this way for what seemed like hours, Cass practically in Tim’s lap, playing with his hair.

“Tim?” Cass whispered.

“Yes?”

“Your hair is soft.”

Tim chuckled into her neck, warm and low. “Thanks, Cass.”

Cass pulled away to look in his eyes. They were slightly swollen and red, but still a piercing blue. “Are you okay?”

Tim leaned forward and pressed his lips to the top of her head, a gentle lie escaping his lips. “Always.”

Tim moved forward, his arms wrapping around her, pulling her closer, his fingers dancing along her ribs.

Cass sighed as she relaxed into his arms.

She felt calm.

25 notes · View notes

redhoodieone · 5 years

Text

It’s Cold in Here Part 9

A/N: Here we go again! I’m going away for a little vacation with my sister to visit our grandparents, so I won’t be updating for about a week or two, but when I return, I will definitely continue this story so don’t worry! So, I hope you all enjoy this cliffhanger because God knows I enjoyed writing it to tease everyone!

Warnings: Language, smut, fluffiness, and jealousy.

By the time Jason and I reach my apartment, I’m more than just exhausted; I’m mentally weak. Deathstroke’s words plague my ears and mind. No matter how many times I try to think for myself, or listen to Jason, Deathstroke’s voice takes control over me.

I undress in the living room; not even caring if Jason sees or not (which I know he most likely will anyways). Kicking off my boots, I peel off the top of my costume, immediately noticing the wet spots from when Deathstroke got a good few hits at me. Spots of my blood stains my stomach, but I’m lucky enough to not need stitches or anything serious. Slipping into my sweats and t-shirt, I throw myself on the couch and begin to wonder how to take Deathstroke down.

Do I kill Deathstroke and not tell Bruce? Yeah right, Bruce and Tim could find out and point it all back to me since they’re fucking detectives.

Do I ‘accidentally’ kill him? No, it’ll some how come back to me. I remember Bruce’s golden rule: Justice, not vengeance. At least Damian would agree with me on this one.

Should I ask someone else for help? Maybe…Roy Harper? He would totally be down for a big ass kicking if anything!

Lying completely on my side, I notice Jason sits beside me and removes his helmet. “Are you okay?” he asks softly. He sets his helmet on the coffee table; I can smell his cologne and gun powder from his jacket.

“No. I don’t think I’ll ever be okay again,” I truthfully answer.

“That’s not true. We just need to...probably ask Tim and Damian for help. They might know what we should do about this since Deathstroke won’t fucking quit.”

Jason lifts my legs up and sets them on his lap. One of his hands reaches for mine to hold, as his other hand rubs up and down my leg; in a comforting matter or flirting matter, I can’t tell right now. He exhales shakily and pushes his hand into my sweatpants to feel my smooth leg.

I glance up at him as he just smirks at me; he’s probably thinking I can easily be seduced.

“Are you…trying to hit on me?” I ask slowly.

“Maybe,” Jason replies anxiously. I’ve never seen the cocky, overly confident, and egotistical man show fear before. His blue eyes focus on me, and for a brief second, he licks his bottom lip. “I-I just need to stay busy. I-I shouldn’t be thinking too much.”

“What do you mean?”

“I…had to stop myself back there…from killing him. The way he tried to hurt you, hurt my brother, I wanted to fucking kill him, Y/N. All I wanted to do is break his fucking spine…rip apart his fucking face…and step all over his hands and body for even thinking he can fucking hurt you and my family. The thing is, I know I have changed for the better, but there’s something still in me that screams kill, whenever someone I love is hurt or in danger,” Jason confesses. His voice breaks, and it saddens me to see how Jason is still affected from his past. His fingers rub circles on my leg, and the warmth and comfort he’s giving me is distracting me as well. “All I want is to forget that feeling right now. I just want to fucking forget tonight because I was sure I was going to kill him, and I fucking know I wouldn’t come back from all of that. I wouldn’t be who I am. I would be that man Bruce has helped me bury. I can’t allow that to happen, especially now that you’re around me more.”

I’m speechless. My chest is pounding from my wild emotions; which could be my heart beating fast because of Jason’s feelings, or I might be having a real heart attack from the stress and everything else around me.

Jason sits up to kneel in front of me, and he closes the distance between us as he kisses me. His lips are slightly chapped, but the warmth and emotion from him makes me fall into a peaceful state where nothing is bothering me, and everything just stops for a moment. I kiss him back with as much affection, and the moment the kiss deepens, my cell phone rings; alerting both of us. I reach across to the coffee table to get it and I see it’s Artemis.

“Hello?” I answer breathlessly.

“Y/N! Why the hell haven’t you called me or text me or something?! I’ve been dying to talk to you! Listen, I need to know what happened that night when you were drinking. Did anything happen that I should know about? And I need to know what you’re doing right now!” Artemis flips out.

“Hey, you haven’t exactly tried to reach me either. Is everything okay?” I ask, hoping to calm her down a bit.

“Yeah, I mean...Conner and I are together now...” Artemis says, happily sighing into the phone. I can hear Conner say something near her, and she giggles at him. “But I didn’t call to talk about that since we can discuss more about Conner and how you and Dick are going to be so cute at Bruce’s gala tomorrow night.”

I freeze. “Bruce’s gala?” I repeat.

“Yeah, we all got our invites. Didn’t you get one?”

Jason sits up and begins to pull down my sweatpants. On his knees, he pulls them completely off despite my warning glare. He settles in between my legs and starts kissing down my chest and all the way down my stomach. The second his hot lips kiss down my thighs, I whine.

“What was that noise?” Artemis asks.

“Uh-nothing! I haven’t checked my mail yet,” I breathe heavily. My hand holds my phone tightly, as the other hand runs through Jason’s hair. “You and Conner are going together?”

“Of course! So is Tim and Zatanna! That means you and Dick are going together right?” Artemis asks.

“I-uh...I think so,” I struggle to speak. Jason kisses my thigh once more, before he dips his head down to my pussy and licks up my slit to my clit. His tongue circles my clit, and then he takes me by surprise when he lightly sucks on it. He looks up at me and smirks at how easily I can come undone by his power of oral sex.

Biting my lip, I try to remain calm because Jason is close to getting where I need him. But Artemis sighs sadly. Now that doesn’t sound good.

“Y/N...I need to tell you something. I-I promised I wouldn’t say anything, but I think I need to tell you because you deserve to know.”

I immediately push Jason off me; knocking him off the couch. Mouthing “sorry”, I slip back on my panties and sweatpants. “What’s wrong? Is it about you?” I ask cautiously.

“Kind of. Remember when I told you Wally and I broke up because it just wasn’t working out? There was a real reason why we broke up after he came back from the Speed-Force. It was because he was sleeping around with Dick,” Artemis reveals.

I can feel my throat tighten. Of course, I already knew about Dick and Wally’s involvement, but I didn’t think their history went that far back. I exhale, and I almost want to tell her what’s been going on lately.

“What?” I ask, figuring that’s the appropriate response right now.

“Wally’s gay. He...was confused for a long time and I knew we couldn’t keep dating because I knew he wanted Dick more, and that he shouldn’t change or hide who he really is. The thing is, you’re my best friend and I just need to know if Dick told you the truth. D-Dick is my friend too, and he told me not to tell you about his and Wally’s flings when he first started seeing you. I didn’t want to get involved in your love life and-” Artemis rambles on apologetically.

“Artemis! It’s fine. I…already know about Dick and Wally,” I admit.

“How? And if he told you, why are you still with him? You’re okay with Dick being…bi?”

“I-I don’t really know about our relationship status at the moment. If anything, I think we’re on a time-out,” I say nervously. I pace around and I can’t figure out how to deal with this because my mind is only focused on one thing: Deathstroke. Dick and Wally’s flings don’t bother me as much as before, but I know Artemis is just looking out for me. “But wait, you haven’t told anyone about them? Does anyone know about Wally?”

“I’m the only one who knows about Wally. He’s still…scared to come out, especially since he feels like he’s going to disappoint Barry. But no, as far as I know, we’re the only ones who know the truth,” Artemis discloses.

Besides Jason, Tim, Damian, and Alfred, I think to myself.

“But look Y/N, I don’t hate Wally after what happened between us. I don’t think I can even hate him. We…had a good run, and I still love him and consider him one of my best friends. It’s just that…sometimes it’s hard to accept the truth, especially when it’s coming from someone you love. And I know you love Dick, so I hope you’re not blaming yourself or planning to kill yourself anytime soon,” Artemis continues before she sighs once more. I fear what she’s going to ask me now. “Do you hate him? Do you hate Dick?”

The question catches me off guard. After everything that has happened, I realize I mostly went through the stages of betrayal, anger, and sadness. But as of right now, the only thing I feel is determination and pity for Deathstroke when I finish him off.

“I…don’t hate Dick,” I confess. It’s the one confession I feel like I can easily admit. I’m not hiding anything. I’m not hurting Dick or myself. It’s just the plain, honest, truth, and it actually feels good to get it out. “I can’t hate him. I don’t think I can ever hate him. But listen Artemis, I really want to tell you how I found out and what’s going on, but I can’t right now. Some shit is going on, and I need to focus on that.”

I finally move out of the living room, while Jason follows me. Turning on the kitchen light, I head to get a water bottle, but a yellow and red costume catches my attention on my balcony.

“I’m going to have to call you back,” I say quickly and hang up, despite Artemis trying to keep me talking.

Kid Flash vibrates through my locked balcony door and enters my home. Jason suddenly appears at my side and pushes me behind him as he aims his gun right at Wally West. He chuckles darkly, and points at me.

“Y/N, we need to talk,” Wally says seriously. He pulls his hood back to reveal his green eyes and freckled face.

“What do you want?” I ask, realizing I don’t sound friendly at all.

“I’m only going to say this once. For the past few months, I’ve had to lie about who I am. I constantly have to pretend I’m straight, and that I like girls. But you know the truth now, so you can imagine how fucking awful and annoying it is to put on a mask and be the person everyone wants to see, right?” Wally asks, with hints of sarcasm.

“What does this have to do with her?” Jason demands. He slowly lowers the gun down.

“I want you to officially end things with Dick. I don’t give a shit what he told you. You’re not in love with him anymore. I see it. Dick sees it. Hell, I even saw it at the barbeque, and I’m gay! I know why Dick insists on keeping you around, but why the hell are you even still with him? Are you that desperate for a guy?” Wally questions me. He’s clearly annoyed.

“What do you know about my feelings, Wally?! You’re not me! You don’t know what happened in our relationship and you don’t know what it was like!” I snap.

“I know for a fact that he was miserable with you! The fact that he kept coming back to me late night says something doesn’t it?!” Wally yells. He laughs when he notices I frown. “Yeah, when you would fall asleep with him, he’d leave you to come to my place. It was clear as day that he couldn’t be with you anymore.”

“Watch it, West,” Jason threatens.

“If he was that miserable with me, then he should have broken up with me in the beginning. But don’t you dare take your jealousy and pain out on me, Wally. I have absolutely nothing to do with yours and Dick’s relationship. Whatever is going on between you two, it’s clearly between you two. And as for ‘our relationship’, you know for a fact that he’s the one who still wants to be with me; I don’t want to stay with him. I still love him, and I’ll probably always love him, but I’m not in love with him. I will never fall or be in love with him ever again. But until Dick figures out how to come out to his family and friends, I’m not going to break up with him or out him. Not now, not ever. But if you have a problem with me, come at me then,” I say seriously. I step forward from Jason, and I hold out my hands. I smirk, and chuckle at the way Wally’s face falls. “I already have to deal with an asshole who’s threatening me and Dick. But if I have to, I’ll fucking fight you too, because I’m not going anywhere until Dick deals with his issues.”

Wally exhales heavily. His eyes stay on the floor, as he runs a hand through his red hair. I can tell he’s on the verge of crying, except I’m not even sure why. After a few minutes, he finally raises his head up and his eyes are red and puffy.

“He’s…he’s just hurting me a lot, Y/N. He doesn’t care that he’s toying you around and just using me because he’s so fucking stubborn to realize the damage he’s doing! He REFUSES to admit he’s bisexual, and that he wants to be with me! He’s playing a fucked-up game right now, and we’re just pawns until he gets what he wants! I’m not fucking stupid. I know he still loves you, and he wants it to work out between you two, but I know it’s not fair for me, or even you. But Dick’s going to do whatever he wants because…” Wally chokes up, and steps closer to me until he’s hugging me; which frightens me a bit. “He’s going to do something tomorrow night…he’s just going to keep hurting us, Y/N.”

I freeze into his arms. Jason raises an eyebrow and watches us closely. “What do you mean, Wally?” I ask quietly. Maybe I don’t want to know…

“Tim told me that Dick’s going to propose to you tomorrow at the gala. He has a ring. He has something planned. And he’s going to want you to say yes,” Wally admits.

My eyes widen. Just when I thought things couldn’t get worse…

It does.

#dc comics #batman #dick grayson #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd smut

203 notes · View notes

dottie-wan-kenobi · 4 years

Text

Broadcast Torture + Jason Todd & Tim Drake

Written for the @badthingshappenbingo . X’s are finished & can be found on my AO3 (under the same username!!), asterisks are requested. Thanks to @whateverrrrwhatever for making this way better than it was <3

----

The entrance to the Cave Jason takes is old and rarely used anymore. He isn’t sure if the kids even know about it, and really, he hopes they don’t. It feels like a little secret just between him and the Cave (and a few other assholes, plus Alfred). Anyway, he’s only going to the Cave tonight because no one else is here. B is out with the Justice League somewhere, Dick off with Kory and Roy, and all the rest of them, Duke included, are holding down the fort here in Gotham.

None of them will come back any time soon unless they’re grievously injured. Knowing, like, all of them, that’s a distinct possibility. He seriously hopes they can keep their shit together tonight, though, because if not? He’s going to have to interact with them. And he can only handle so much interaction with people, period, much less his intense family members. He worked with Damian the other night, and that’s enough time with another Bat to last him for at least a few more weeks.

Thankfully, what he’s here for shouldn’t take too long—he just needs some files on the drug trade down at the docks. The more he can get the better, especially ones from at least a few years ago, since he has suspicions that remnants of the Lucky Hand Triad have regrouped.

Technically, Jason can go without them. But they’ll help, and as long as he gets done before 3 am, it’ll be fine. Three is, of course, the witching hour of Bat injuries. (Trust him, he knows all about those.)

Really, the only person who might see him poking around—getting his files, he means, because poking around insinuates he’s here for anything else, and he is not —is Alfred. And Alfred won’t tell on Jason, so if he does happen to come down to the Cave and see Jason, well, it’ll be no big deal. It’s always been easier to interact with Alfred than any of the rest, anyway.

When he steps into the main part of the Cave, he can’t help but notice how weirdly small it seems. Wasn’t it bigger? It’s as empty as it’s ever been, though, the only sounds the humming of machines and the bats flying and screeching.

Maybe Jason should be scared by how dark and confined it is. Anybody in their right mind would be, but he’s never been frightened of this place and he’s not going to start now. Determined, he starts over to the big computer, trying not to think about how familiar everything feels, no matter how long he’s been gone. How every corner brings up a new memory, but all the new keepsakes mean nothing to him. How he still knows his way around. Or how he feels… weird here, almost like an apparition or something.

He casts his eyes on the place where his old suit used to be on display, and can’t help the feeling that maybe he’s just a ghost, the shadow of a boy in a picture who’s climbed out of its frame to haunt the city.

Shaking the thought away, he hurries over to the computer bay, flinging himself into Bruce’s chair with false ease. Sitting here doesn’t help him feel any better—it holds so many memories from his childhood that feel more like dreams, muted and far away. In soft focus like that, he can’t be sure what’s real and what’s imagined, what’s a lie. But ugh. God, he’s got to stop, now. He came here for a reason, and the sooner he can get his shit and go, the better.

Just as he’s about click into the huge storage drive of reports and files that Bruce has amassed over the years, he realizes something.

Babs has to know he’s in the Cave right now. There’s no way she’s not going to tell B or Dick, or both. Probably both. And probably Alfred, too, because why not, right? But what can she tell them besides the truth, which isn’t even that bad?

On the other hand, if he’s going to get told on, why not mess with the others a little bit?

Detouring from his original intentions, Jason cracks his knuckles and sets off to open up all of the weirdest porn Google can give him.

It gets old after a few minutes, and it’s best if he gets out of here sooner rather than later, so he moves on. (He leaves the pages up, of course. Let Dick or Tim find them when they get back. Hah.)

He goes to click into the database, but the cursor on the screen doesn’t move. He tries again and it still doesn’t work.

“What the fuck,” he says, because, seriously, what? The Batcomputer doesn’t get slow. And it can’t be Babs, because although she’s not shy about putting up her logo and locking people out of their hardware... no logo. Not Babs, then.

But if not her… by all rights, it shouldn’t be possible.

Discomfited, Jason wonders if he should try to fix it, or tell Babs. He leans down to make sure the mouse is plugged in, but a noise on the screen has him looking back up.

A video has popped up on the screen.

At first, it’s just black. Jason is confused and annoyed. Maybe Oracle is messing with him.

“Babs,” he says, because whether this is her or not, there’s no way she’s not tapped into whatever bugs she has down here. “Stop playing. I’m just here for some files and then I’m gone.” When that gets no reaction, he adds, “Won’t even take the originals, just need some copies.”

Nothing happens. Jason looks around, struck once again by how empty and dark the Cave is.

Okay, his gut was right. It’s not Babs. But what, or who, the hell is it?

Before he can even begin to figure it out, the video changes, revealing a laboratory splattered with what looks like paint. Other than that, it’s practically devoid of color. The tall, peeling walls remind Jason of the warehouses at the docks. Medical equipment fills out the edges, somehow even more rudimentary and broken down than he’d expect.

As far as he’s aware, there’s nobody out there with a hospital gimmick. He looks closer, taking in as many details as he can. The paint catches his attention again, and he curses as he recognizes the colors. White, green, and red. Fuck.

A huge metal table sits in the middle of the room, angled upwards, and there, strapped down on the table, unconscious, is the fucking Replacement.

Jason honestly doesn’t really like the kid. They’re civil enough. Jason has apologized for everything that happened when he came back and Tim has forgiven him, if not forgotten. Not that Jason can blame him. But other than a few conversations outside of the capes and a few missions they’ve teamed up on, they don’t interact much.

There are still days where Jason thinks about being replaced—he knows that’s not how it happened, exactly, but whatever. In those moments, he sees sickly green and has to forcibly calm himself down, punch a wall, something to get the feeling out. He has to tell himself it’s not Tim’s fault, not really.

Replacement or no, it’s hard to see him on the table like this. He really is just a kid.

The Joker moves into view on the screen, his hands clasped behind his back, casual as can be. And Jesus Christ, his smile is still as big and inhuman as it ever was, sickeningly amused by a 17 year old under threat of torture.

"Oh, Batsy,“ he sings, and the sound of his voice sends furious, painful shivers down Jason’s spine. Oh fuck no , he thinks, and wants to get up, but he finds himself rooted to the spot.

It’s the same spot where Jason’s dad sat for years, protecting the city, making it better , or so Jason had thought. But sitting here now, it feels like he’s Bruce. It feels like he’s that little kid who was murdered. It feels like a lot of gut-churning, ominous tangle of emotions he doesn't have a name for and doesn't care to learn.

"I’ve got another of your little birds,” the Joker says, leaning close to the camera.

Part of Jason wants to walk away. He can’t stand this. He doesn’t want to hear another word out of that fucking thing’s mouth ever again, and it’s better to just let the voice pass by over him than to actually listen.

But the other part of Jason, the part that’s been fighting this war since he was born, won’t let him ignore what’s on the screen. He has to know everything, all the details, can’t have only half the picture.

So Jason pays attention and catalogs everything. Forces himself to listen as the clown talks about kidnapping Tim off the street. How he distracted him and snuck up on him and beat him over the head until he was unconscious. How easy it was to capture the oh-so-weak Robin.

Eventually, the Joker stops talking. Must be bored, since he’s not getting an immediate reaction. The dramatic piece of shit only loves attention.

He walks over to Tim. The way he moves is disgustingly familiar to Jason. There’s a kind of switch near the table, far enough that there’s no way Tim could reach it, and then. Then. The Joker flips it.

Tim’s body convulses and shakes as electricity burns through him. He screams, straining against the table.

Jason clutches the armrests of Bruce’s chair, the leather creaking under his hands. Leaning forward, he finds he can’t look away, jaw jumping. He shouldn’t be surprised by anything the Joker does by now, but all he can think is an unending loop of what the fuck?

The Joker flips the switch again and goes over to Tim, crooning something the camera doesn’t quite pick up. A little louder, he says, “I think you need some air, little birdie.” He pulls an oxygen mask from somewhere out of view and puts it on Tim’s face.

Alarm bells ringing in Jason’s head, he watches as Tim struggles, twisting his head and attempting to bite the Joker’s fingers. There’s nothing he can do but watch as Tim loses the fight. The mask is secured, and within a few moments, it fills with horrible green gas.

All he’s got to breathe is Joker toxin.

Jason watches for another minute as the Joker takes the mask off, deceivingly gentle. After a few moments, Tim starts hysterically giggling, the sound a wheezing and crackling and painful thing.

A message shows up on the screen, listing an address and quickest route to the location. Signed: ‘O’.

“Fuck this,” Jason says, because he doesn’t even want to think about what comes next, what’s going to happen to the kid’s body, how badly the kid is going to be hurt. He stands and hurries over to where all the keys are hung up, grabbing the first set he can reach. He runs to the motorcycles and high tails it the fuck out of the Cave.

Jason thinks he might throw up. The thought of seeing the Joker in person again is too much to bear even on his best nights, but. Whatever. He has to get through it. He’s managed it before, with other traumatic things, and he can manage it now. He can do it for Tim.

He doesn’t like the kid. They aren’t friends and they certainly aren’t brothers, but he’s not about to just let the Joker kill another Robin. Abso-fucking-lutely not.

—-

If you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging and leaving a comment in the tags. Thank you <3

#badthingshappenbingo #jason todd #tim drake #kind of #batfam #batfam fic #my writing

31 notes · View notes

schweeeppess · 5 years

Text

WIP Wednesday my dudes. have it. I dunno if i’m ever gonna finish it.

Jason grunted when he felt the weight shift and grow heavier on his back, the rod playing peek-a-boo through his body and protruding from his liver shifting painfully. Damian winced beneath him and Jason cursed.

"I've got a few granola bars in my pocket," Jason said through gritted teeth. "Reach over and grab them."

Damian offered no response as he obeyed, tight-lipped and determined.

They wouldn’t be in this situation if Bruce had just answered his fucking phone. Jason couldn’t help but remember that fact. He and Damian wouldn’t be trapped under the mountain of rubble that was once one of Wayne Enterprise’s visitor centers.

Jason had gotten wind of a plot to blow the building a mere few minutes before it was executed and, in that time, he’d tried calling Bruce to no avail. He hadn’t seen the point in leaving any voicemails, though, so he simply didn’t. Jason knew that today Damian and Bruce were supposed to be paying the visitor center a visit—it hadn’t exactly been a secret—which was why he’d tried reaching out to the man.

In retrospect, he should have known Bruce wasn’t going to answer him. It had been a stupid waste of time to even try with the thickheaded ass.

So, because Bruce hadn’t answered his call, here Jason was: probably going to bleed to death, his arms shaking worse than an earthquake from the strain of trying to hold all the slabs of concrete up and give Damian some room, blood dripping down his face and falling from his eyelashes—annoying as hell—and honestly? Going out like this? There were so better ways to die.

Jason held back a cough, tasting the blood as it filled his mouth, and feeling as the liquid slipped past his lips to drip from the corner of his mouth.

Damn it.

His muscles were screaming at him for what he was doing to them. The muscles on his back were practically sobbing, they’d been tense for so long, and his forearms and calves? They screeched and protested this the loudest. They made their discomfort loudly known. At this point? Jason was surprised he was still holding everything up.

Again the weight on the debris shifted and Jason swallowed his agony, sealing it up tight inside. Damian relaxed back against the ground, the granola and protein bars clutched protectively against his chest.

“In my jacket. Inner left pocket.” As Damian reached into the pocket Jason narrowed his eyes and added, “Don’t drink it all.”

There was no response offered as the kid pulled out the small flask filled with water. Jason always carried one around on patrol—what else was he supposed to do, die of dehydration? No thanks.

Damian simply looked at the flask, set it aside, and reached into his own belt to pull out a small canister. Jason couldn’t say he’d been surprised when the kid revealed his utility belt hidden in his civvies. Damn Demon probably took the thing to school.

The canister Jason found curious; he’d never seen it before.

“Don’t scream.”

It’d been one helluva warning, and the only thing Damian had said the entire time, so of course Jason had opened his mouth to ask Damian why as the kid sprayed whatever the hell that was on Jason’s bleeding wound and it started burning worse than anything Jason had ever felt.

And so, of course, he screamed and an arm buckled, dropping him onto a forearm and leaving only one tremoring arm straight as his body leaned forward into the fall. This caused the debris on Jason’s back to shift worse than it had before, and the rod moved right along with it, digging itself in deeper as Jason again cried out in agony.

Damian grunted—the rock trapping his ankle must’ve been affected by the rest on Jason’s back—and glared up at Jason, whose face was now inches away from Damian’s.

Way too close for comfort, in both of their books.

Jason held his breath and tried to focus on ignoring the blinding pain as he squeezed his eyes shut. The cough he’d been holding back the entire time finally realized itself, and Jason twisted his head so that the blood in his mouth wouldn’t get on Damian and instead stained the ground beside him.

“Sorry,” Jason muttered afterward, sighing.

Damian offered no response to the apology, instead saying, “Your wound should have stopped bleeding.”

Jason opened his eyes and glanced over at the kid. “Well, did it?”

“I cannot see.” So he did the next best thing, and reached out to touch it.

Jason bit back his cry of pain, instead hissing out, “A little warning next time?”

“I… apologize.” Then, before Jason could recover from the shock of Damian Wayne apologizing, he continued, “Drake’s component worked. Your wound has stopped bleeding.”

“Great. I won’t die of blood loss then. Yay, Tim.” Sarcasm practically dripped from the words as Jason spoke them—though the knowledge that he wouldn’t be dying anytime soon did bring a little comfort, even if he wouldn’t admit it out loud.

The kid snorted and an awkward silence fell upon the two, blood continuing to drip from Jason’s head. The wound in his torso had stopped bleeding, but the area around the rusted rod both burned and felt cold. Jason wondered just what was in the ‘component’ Tim had made; he wondered when Tim made it.

When Damian started to twist, Jason’s attention snapped back to the situation at hand.

“You good, kid?”

Damian scowled in response. “Your breath is rancid, Todd—but to answer your question, yes. I am fine. I was simply testing my leg. It is free now.”

Little shit.

Jason didn’t respond. What could he say?

“Can you reach your phone?”

Damian shook his head. “I left it at the Manor.”

“Are you fucking kidding me.” Jason wanted to strangle this kid right about now. He had his phone on him, but Bruce wouldn’t fucking answer him. What made now any different from the last time he’d tried calling?

Regardless he found himself saying, “Left pant pocket. The second one. Grab mine, and call your dad.” Maybe Bruce could sense the difference in callers; maybe he’d get the feeling that it wasn’t Jason calling per se, and would answer because of it.

Maybe he just didn’t want to talk to Jason.

Without a word, Damian again did as he was instructed. It was weirding him out—Damian’s silence.

The sound of the phone ringing wasn’t a very loud one, because Jason kept his volume low, but in the cramped space they had, it may as well have had the volume of an air horn.

His thought about the tight space made Jason realize something he hadn’t before.

This was almost just like his coffin.

From there, Jason’s mental stability only started plummeting. He noticed, for what seemed to be the first time, how close the ‘walls’ were, how the back of his head was already hitting the ‘roof’. He noticed just how much his muscles ached, how he was trapped under debris, his body shielding someone else’s.

When he started hyperventilating Jason didn’t know. All he knew was that, sometime during his panicking, Damian’s call must’ve gone through, because the sound of Damian’s voice hit him like a sobering slap in the face. He chose that to focus on—Damian’s voice. The words he was saying.

“—ith Todd. He threw himself over me in an effort to protect me, undoubtedly, despite the fact that he could have escaped safely. I find it an unwise decision; we were near the exit when the building came down. Hurry, father, for Todd may bleed to death if you do not, and he is the only thing keeping the debris from crushing us both.” Damian hung up, then.

His words reverberated in Jason’s mind. ‘He is the only thing keeping the debris from crushing us both.’ That sentence made the pain in his muscles spike, and Jason groaned. His muscles were beyond the minute trembling, now periodically tremoring and violently.

In a weak effort to distract himself from the pain Jason asked, “What’d your dad say?”

“He did not answer.”

What? Jason must have asked the question out loud because Damian sniffed and repeated what he’d said before.

“My father did not answer. I left a voicemail.”

“A voicemail?” This was a joke. This was a sick, cruel, twisted joke fate was playing.

He was going to die beneath this rubble, the same way he had the first time. Again, the thought sent Jason’s mind into a panicked frenzy and he started hyperventilating.

“Todd? Todd. Todd, listen to me!”

Damian’s voice sounded like it was underwater: muted, for all intents and purposes. Jason could hear it, but he couldn’t understand it though his panic.

“Jason!”

Damian’s use of his first name shocked him enough to yank him out of his head, thrusting him back into the crammed space as his mind was flooded with flashbacks.

“W-what?” he rasped out. It felt like there was cotton in his mouth, choking him.

I can’t breathe. And again Jason was dragged back into the hysteria in his mind. The ground beneath Damian turned into dirt, and the oxygen became thick and warm. The few rays of sunlight that filtered in through cracks in the debris vanished and plunged Jason into darkness. His torso lit aflame with agony and where’s Bruce? Where’s Bruce, where’s Bruce, where’s Bruce?

Jason shouted when he felt something prodding at his wound, mind sobering at the pain, and everything snapped back into reality. The ground beneath Damian was concrete, there was light illuminating the area, and his pain hadn’t been as bad before whatever had disturbed the sore area had poked at it. His gaze focused on Damian whose eyes were narrowed at him.

Wait a goddamned minute.

“Are you done, Todd?”

He wasn’t sure whether to feel annoyed or grateful, so his answer was a rasped, “Fuck off.”

Damian snorted.

Instead of trying to get a read on his mental state, Jason forced any thoughts about the resemblance this situation held to the other thing out of his mind. He needed to think; to focus on solving their current predicament, not have a heart-to-heart with himself.

Jason’s mind felt slow, as he tried to think of solutions. Like each thought he had was dragging its feet to form. He made a noise of frustration after two minutes straight of the infuriating sensation.

“Something the matter?”

“You wouldn’t have any ideas about getting out of here, would you Damian?”

The weight shifted again, but this time it was too much for Jason’s muscles to support. His arm buckled, the rod went deeper, and he screamed from the pain that ripped throughout his body, now on both forearms and centimeters between his body and Damian’s. Jason’s head was beside Damian’s, his forehead on the cool ground.

Damian didn’t answer him.

Beats passed in silence before Jason spoke in a voice rasped with emotion and pain.

“I’m sorry, Damian. You shouldn’t have to die like this. With me, of all people. It…” He trailed off, train of thought slipping, before quickly finishing. “I’m sorry.”

He couldn’t come up with any solutions. The only way this would end was in Jason’s body finally caving in to the blood loss and pain, making the debris crush them both. They would die here. Already Jason’s mind was hazy and black splotches were staining his vision, eating away at the real-life visuals as they began to spread.

Jason heard Damian suck in a long breath, which he found curious, seconds before the kid yelled, “Superman!” then, lower, whispered, “Help us. You’re the only one who can.”

Why the fuck didn’t I think of that? “Nice, Damian,” Jason managed to murmur.

Mere seconds after Damian’s cry for help, Jason felt the weight on his back grow. Again the rod dug deeper, but this time his body buckled completely beneath the weight. There was no scream of pain, this time, as he felt the wound worsen and pressure on his back increase, because Jason’s mind decided to let the ink spreading across his vision seep into his head and he blacked out for a few seconds. When Jason regained some remote form of consciousness, he felt his body being lifted in someone’s arms, his limbs dangling limply in the air.

He moaned when he felt the rod still impaling his torso, pain flaring violently. Jason tried to force himself to stay awake, ‘tried to’ being the operative words. Moments after his eyes fluttered open and he caught sight of Jon helping Damian out of a hole in the debris, Jason’s mind said good-night again and he passed out cold.

The next time Jason woke up, he was lying on his side in a much cooler area, more alert than the last time he’d been conscious but not quite all there yet. A few seconds after his mind booted up, he opened his eyes, only to immediately shut them again because of harsh lights burning at his pupils. Moments after he’d closed his eyes, his hearing started to crackle to life, voices drifting to him.

“—not leave the foreign object in for much longer, else I fear an infection will spread to infect more than just his liver. We must act quickly, Master Bruce.” Alfred?

The muddled texture of their voices made it difficult for Jason to tell who was talking, but if he tried a little harder…

“Jason’s going to need to get a liver transplant, either way, and we need to get more red blood cells in his body.” That sounded like Tim. Why was he here? Where was here?

“Tim, I need you to find a suitable donor for Jason, now.” Ah. That gruff voice was unmistakably Bruce.

Wait.

“On it, B. Here’s some Epogen for Jason—catch.”

“Good work.”

“Sir, I believe Master Jason is awake.”

Well. Thanks for blowing my cover, Al. With no way to avoid confronting the others, Jason’s brow wrinkled as he opened his eyes, squinting to try and protect them from the lights. He shifted, accidentally stretching the skin around the metal stick still shish-kabobbing his liver, and only allowed a groan to escape him at the pain that flared up. Only when he opened his eyes did he really realize where he was, and when he did, he groaned again, shutting his eyes.

Jason was in the Batcave.

Fuck.

Tim’s face popped into view when Jason opened his eyes again, long locks of hair hanging over his bright baby blue eyes like a curtain. He grinned, said, “Hey there Jason.”

Unable to voice a response, Jason grunted and closed his eyes again. The light was really doing a number on them, alright? He liked not being blind, thanks.

His replacement plowed on.

“So we’re gonna send you back under for this bit—it’s gonna hurt, like, a lot even when it’s over—but to catch you up to speed”—something stabbed Jason in the thigh and he cursed mentally—“Bruce just gave you a shot of Epo ‘cause you’re low on red blood cells, we’ve got you hooked up to some fluids, there’s a cannula in your nose to help you breathe—” Huh. Jason hadn’t noticed that. “—because of all the dust and stuff that polluted your lungs when the building went down, and oh, hey, awesome! You’re about to get a liver transplant—speaking of, yo, B! Found a donor!”

Tim’s voice went a little distant, like he’d turned away or something, but it was back in a few seconds. “Yeah. Until then, we really should get that rebar steel out of you, huh? Don’t want anything else getting infected, because then that’d be more work, and I already have so much more aside from this. Tam’s gonna kill me if I don’t fax a copy of the paperwork over to her dad by the deadline, which is—shit, that’s two hours from now and I haven’t even gotten started on that.”

Replacement—Tim, it’s Tim—kept talking, but it was too much for Jason’s drugged brain to keep up with—which, speaking of, the drugs they had him on must’ve been strong enough to knock out a rhino, because ever since the Pit next to nothing worked on him—so he passed out at some point during the surprisingly distracting rambling.

#wip wednesday #just take it #dfneslbvg #my work #my halfassed writing #my writing #my fanfiction #Jason Todd #Damian Wayne #Tim Drake #Bruce Wayne #Alfred Pennyworth

220 notes · View notes

jinmukangwrites · 4 years

Note

I would really love a continuation of the Muzzled bthb fic! It ends with a rather hopeless cliffhanger.

Lucky for you I've been planning a continuation for that fic since I first wrote it.

-o-o-o-o-

Muzzled

-o-o-o-o-

Bruce noticed that Dick was missing, however he never thought that much into it. Dick was a man now, his own man, and if he wanted to disappear off a reluctantly joined patrol then he could. It wasn't like this was the first time he had done it.

Though, it was the first time he'd done it to Damian.

Which, admittedly, should have been a red flag. However, he never really bothered to check on his eldest, lest he feared he'd poke a stick at a snake. He never sent a text or a phonecall. Never tried to track down his location. Dick made it clear that he didn't want to be under Bruce anymore. Nightwing was his own persona, and he wanted Nightwing to never be below Batman. He wanted Nightwing to be Batman's equal.

Bruce would never admit out loud that he wanted Nightwing to be better than Batman; he kept that bit of information to himself.

He didn't start worrying about the disappearance until Tim mentioned it one night during a rare almost family dinner. About a full week since when Bruce last saw Dick. Stephanie, Damian, Tim, Alfred, and Bruce were all there while Cass, Jason, and of course Dick were all missing. Tim said off handedly that Dick hadn't been answering any of his messages. Stephanie then angrily reported that Dick had skipped out on the movie they were going to watch together. Damian remained silent as Alfred revealed information that Barbara had recently visited his home to find it empty, but if the paleness to his face was anything to go by, Damian too had in some way been effected by Dick's absence in the past week.

Bruce decided then to risk poking a stick at a snake and he made a phonecall. Dick could be in one of his moods again. Perhaps something big is going down in Blüdhaven and his eldest just needed to be on his own.

But then he never got a respond. He got the same old voicemail that he knew Dick set the week before.

Dick never kept the same voicemail for long. Never more than a few days. He'd always said that it was because he liked to make things interesting for people who call him, but Bruce knew it was him carefully and inconspicuously making it easy for someone to tell if he'd gone missing.

Now, there was a problem.

He didn't want to worry the others, so he went to Blüdhaven alone.

Only to find Jason there in Dick's apparent, doing exactly what Bruce had planned on doing.

"What are you doing here," Jason snarled the moment Bruce stepped into Dick's apparent. Bruce could hardly retain his sigh. Looking around the room, it looked relatively untouched, besides Jason of course.

Jason was standing in the middle of the room like a very angry dear caught in the headlights, but Bruce made no comment on it and stalked past Jason to where Dick hung his calendar. He had it on his fridge, and while not much was ever written on it, Dick always made sure to at least X off a day that had been finished.

The last day to be crossed off was as Bruce feared: a week before.

"You noticed too, huh?" Jason said from behind. Bruce grunted and Jason scoffed. "Took you long enough."

"He's missing," Bruce said. "Hasn't been answering the kids. Hasn't shown up to meetings. His job has left multiple voicemails demanding to know where he is."

"I noticed," Jason said, crossing his arms and glaring at the apartment. "We were goin' to meet up the day after he went missin'. I needed some help on a case and he showed me up. Thought at first that he finally decided to stop botherin' with me. Came over a few days later to give him a piece of my mind and found the apartment empty."

"And you told no one?"

Jason rolled his eyes and his body tensed. He was now on the defensive and Bruce cursed his tone. He was worried, but worry often translated to anger and blame when talking to Jason. "I had a fuck ton of other things to worry about. Thought he was just on some dumb spy mission again or somethin'."

"Well, you're here now," Bruce pointed out. "What made you change your mind?"

Jason bit his lip but quickly stopped, shoving his hands into his jean pockets to most likely ball them into tight fists. Bruce knew all of Jason's little ticks, but Jason worked very hard to never show signs of weakness or emotion while around his former mentor, so he didn't acknowledge it. He just stood there and watched as Jason walked towards Dick's sofa and grabbed a duffel. He turned back towards Bruce and dumped the bag onto the table.

Bruce only had to look inside for a moment. The second he saw the black and electric blue fabric, he knew exactly what could have happened to his eldest. A new spike of worry worked itself into his throat.

"Found his suit in a dumpster in Crime Alley last nigt," Jason said, reaching into the duffel to pull out various items. The Nightwing suit came out all together, the mask was pulled out next, escrima sticks after. One by one, everything that his son should have with him at all times was laid out on the table like a bad omen.

"You wanna know what he was goin' to help me with?" Jason asked after a good, solid minute of staring at the abandoned equipment as a suffocating and morbid mood settling over them like a moth eaten blanket. Bruce remained silent and let Jason continue. "A traffickin' ring. Not a sex one. People are bein' taken off the streets and are bein' conditioned to be the perfect slave. I stumbled upon the first trails of it after I took down a gang running a fight club in the Narrows. There were servants, slaves down there. None of them could hardly speak. Just do what they were told to do. Dick suspected a ring after he found much of a similar thing back in Blüdhaven. After some interrogating, we found out that those slaves were bought from the same person. Didn't get a name, but the description of a woman with sandy blonde hair and a aura of don't fuck with me was a common factor."

"Do you think Dick was taken by these people?" Bruce asked. It was physically painful to keep the growl out of his voice.

Jason shrugged. "M'not sure. Up until now, these people haven't left much evidence behind on their abductions. Most of their known victims are people no one really cared about to notice missin'. It's not their MO to take someone as high profile as Nightwing, or get lazy enough to throw his things in the dumpster."

Bruce looked down at the equipment and bit back a sigh. "Send me all the details. I'll go over them at the cave."

"Oh no," Jason retorted with a bite in his voice. Bruce thinned his lips and scowled at the younger man. "You don't get to take my case away from me. I work with you, or I keep it to myself. That's the deal."

"Fine," Bruce said, not really in the mood to argue. He looked around Dick's room, deciding that there won't be anything there that Jason and possibly Barbara hadn't noticed before, and headed to the front door. "Be at the cave tomorrow morning. 5am sharp."

"Butt crack of dawn. Got it," Jason snipped back.

Bruce simply releases a tension filled sigh and excited the apartment, worry wicking away at his heart one step at a time.

#jin answers #ask #chestnutcats #man its been a long time since i wrote this #i think ive improved in writing quite a bit

17 notes · View notes

chibinightowl · 5 years

Text

Down the Rabbit Hole, Chapter Six

Raise your hand if you thought I’d forgotten about this fic? Nope! Thank you everyone, and especially @tanekore, for your patience! Probably two chapters left!

Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five

~*~

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Tim-Cat spares a quick glance at Jason before returning his attention to the Red Knight and the Bandersnatch.

“It means I have shit luck.” Jason sighs because the universe just loves to use him as a punching bag. If the Red Queen is who he thinks she is, then there are probably going to be all kinds of other baddies to deal with on the other side of this hedge.

He and his subconscious need to sit down and have a little talk because seriously, what the fuck?

“What’s the plan, Cat? You know this place, I don’t.” Contrary to popular belief, not all his plans include kicking down the door and shooting everything that moves, although in this particular case, he’ll probably have to.

An assault rifle would be handy right now. Or better yet, an RPG.

“I’m thinking,” Tim-Cat snaps. “The Bandersnatch doesn’t like the rain any more than I do, so it’s possible we can just wait him out. Once he retreats, it’ll be just the Red Knight.”

“Seems like using both of them is overkill.”

“It is, which leads me to believe we’re expected.”

“After what I did to the Jubjub bird, I sure fucking hope so.”

The Cheshire Cat looks like he’s about to reply when a piercing scream rips through the night, louder even than the storm thundering overhead.

“YER NOT GETTIN’ AWAY THAT EASY! RED KNIGHT! FIND THAT BRAT AND BRING HIM TA ME!”

Jason blinks hard and tries to shake the ringing from his ears. There’s no doubt about it.

The Red Queen is Harley Quinn.

Tim-Cat’s ears have flattened against his head. “I hate when she does that.”

“Yeah, she’s shrill in my world too.” And completely nuts, but ever since Harley gave her puddin’ the big fuck you, she seems to have settled down; rumor has it that she’s in a relationship with Poison Ivy now. Tim’s been meaning to track that down and see if there’s any validity to it. Jason doesn’t care in the slightest.

At least until it impacts him in some way.

They watch as the Red Knight silently dismounts, running a hand along the sleek fur of the Bandersnatch’s back. The touch speaks of ownership, rather like how Damian behaves around Titus. He disappears through the hedge, but not before another lightning flash reveals the knives sheathed on his thighs and the sword strapped to his back. Jason is no stranger to a knife fight; however, he’s a bit rusty with swords. His best bet is to take this guy out at long range.

Still, Jason frowns at the way he moves, his long strides familiar. Whoever is under that armored helmet, it’s not the Joker. But who else could it be? A fighter for sure and one he knows well, which narrows the list of possibilities down quite a bit.

The Bandersnatch backs himself up so that the hedge provides shelter from the rain. Water sprays everywhere as he shakes, then settles back into a crouch. His eyes gleam red as lightning streaks overhead.

“Do you think the brat the Red Queen spoke of is Tweedle Dum?” Tim-Cat asks in a low tone. His hair and tail are soaking wet. “He’s quite nimble, much more so than his brother.”

“If this Tweedle is anything like my brother Dick, then he can probably contort himself out of just about anything.” Jason unsnaps one of the holsters strapped to his thigh and draws out his favorite gun. It’s time to get down to business. “What are some of the Bandersnatch’s weak points?”

He purposefully doesn’t call it a cat. His companion probably wouldn’t like the comparison. And people say he has no tact.

Tim-Cat sniffs. “I do a lot of crazy things but getting up close and personal with the Bandersnatch is not one of them.”

Jason sighs, wishing he were anywhere but here. “Okay, here it goes.”

Crouching in the brush, he takes careful aim. With the clouds and rain, visibility sucks, and he wishes that he’d been wearing his hood when he got gassed because then he’d at least have infrared and night vision in the display. Then again, if he’d been wearing his goddamned helmet, none of this would be happening in the first place.

Hindsight’s a bitch.

The Bandersnatch is a pale blur under the shadows of the hedge and Jason waits, needing to time this perfectly.

Lightning streaks across the sky and Jason fires, the retort loud as the gun expels gases from burnt gunpowder and the bullet exits the barrel at supersonic speeds.

Out of nowhere, small figure suddenly uses the back of the Bandersnatch as a springboard to vault out into the open.

It’s Tweedle Dick.

The boy staggers as he hits the ground, some injury preventing him from nailing a landing the real Dick could do in his sleep, but it doesn’t stop him from trying to run for cover.

At the same time, the Bandersnatch cries out in pain as his eye explodes, blood running down the gaping wound. He rears up and shakes his massive head, crying out again before collapsing to the ground.

“Shit!” Tim-Cat doesn’t waste anymore words. As soon as the Tweedle appears, he’s already moving, racing across the grass to grab the boy before disappearing entirely.

Well, that didn’t go exactly as Jason thought it would, but whatever, he’s got the opening he needs. He bursts out of the underbrush and books it for the hedge. The cries of the Bandersnatch must have alerted the castle and the Red Knight has to be on his way back.

If it were Jason’s kitty that just got shot, he sure as fuck would be.

The big beast is still breathing as he squeezes past it, its bulk mostly blocking the pathway carved through the hedge. It’s tempting to shoot again to make sure it stays down, but Jason is fairly sure he’ll need every bullet he has when he faces whatever else this night brings him.

On the other side of the hedge, he emerges just as lightning cracks again, illuminating an altogether too familiar sight.

Arkham Asylum.

It’s no castle, but it doesn’t need to be. The old Gothic building looks like it belongs in a horror flick. Jason hugs the dark hedge, using it for cover as he scopes out the area. An ill-maintained lawn full of dead weeds lead up to the main entry. From the front, everything appears the same as what he’s used to when he’s wide awake.

And if that’s the case, then screw going in the front door. There’s a side entrance and a back door, as well as a rooftop hatch that leads into what’s still the attic.

Thank fuck he has his grapple gun. It’ll save a lot of time.

The lightning flashes again and in the ensuing darkness, Jason runs across the lawn, swinging wide to avoid the main path. Thunder finally booms overhead, and the rain falls harder. The weather sucks, but it provides him with the needed cover to make it to the side of the Asylum. Another flash and the grapple line shoots upward, catching on the edge of the roof.

Back home, breaking into Arkham isn’t quite so easy, but he knows better than to let his guard down. He’s about to deal with Harley Quinn and considering just how fucked up his subconscious is, that means the Joker can’t be far.

On the roof, the hatch is exactly as he remembers it, a heavy steel plate that’s a bitch and a half to raise on his own. The opening is a gaping maw of utter blackness and Jason can’t suppress the shiver that runs down his spine. This fall isn’t going to be like his last one, he just knows it.

He digs into his jacket for a glow stick. Cracking it, a lurid blue light appears and he drops it down through the hatch. Other members of his family use green ones, but he refuses to. The color connotation messes with his head.

The glow stick doesn’t go far and lands on the wooden floor of the attic.

Well, guess he was wrong then. Jason lowers himself through the opening, hanging on to the edge with his gloves before dropping the rest of the way through. It’s only a few feet and he lands with a soft thud that raises dust.

He picks up the glow stick and looks around. No one has been up here in years, not with the layer of dirt and grime everywhere. Formerly white sheets cover unused furniture and there are stacks of boxes and trunks scattered around with no rhyme or reason.

Orienting himself, Jason picks his way toward the back of the attic where the stairwell leading down into the upper level of the Asylum should be. The dust is almost overwhelming, so he searches for his rebreather, quietly berating himself for not thinking of it sooner.

In fact, he really needs to get his head in the game because now that Tweedle Dick apparently managed to mostly rescue himself, he’s got one less concern to deal with. All that matters now is the vorpal sword.

The rebreather helps and he’s at the top of the stairs in no time. As he pockets the device again, a sudden thought has him pause.

What does the sword even look like?

Jason wants to kick himself in the ass for not asking the White Queen or the Cheshire Cat when he had the chance. Knowing his luck, there will be hundreds of swords in here and he’ll have to test each one to see if it goes snicker-snack like the poem promises.

“’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves did gyre and gimble in the wabe; All mimsy were the borogroves, and the mome raths outgrabe…” he recites under his breath as he starts his descent. The nonsensical words had always stuck with him and he remembers what Tim-Cat said earlier about the mome raths disappearing from the White Knight’s old home.

His hand is on the doorknob when he hears the quiet sneeze from somewhere behind him.

Instincts kick in and Jason has a gun in hand, thumbing off the safety as he whirls around to face whatever danger that just announced itself.

Tim-Cat is crouched at the top of the stairs, rubbing his nose. He sneezes again and his ears twitch in agitation. “I hate dust.”

Jason points the gun at the ceiling and clicks the safety back into place. “Jesus fuck, Cat. What the hell are you doing here?”

“Helping you, remember?” he replies testily.

“I thought you’d stay with Tweedle Dum,” Jason says. He doesn’t want to admit that he hadn’t fully believed the Cheshire Cat would put his hide on the line to help him find the sword. “Transporting two kiddos in one day has to take a lot outta ya.”

“It does.” Tim-Cat rises and gracefully descends the stairs, stopping on the last one so that they’re eye level. His tail is noticeably angled up and away the floor, still dripping from the rain. “But I said I would try and protect you while you search for the sword. I meant it and rescuing Tweedle Dum hasn’t changed that.”

There are a number of things Jason can say, first and foremost that this is a dream and he can’t be killed, but the little niggling doubt in the back of his mind asks if he’s absolutely certain about that. Second, and he really doesn’t want to think about this, is that everything he’s experienced since he got a face full of that gas is real and that damned sword is his only way back.

Instead, he takes the time-honored path favored by all Bats. Avoidance.

“How’s the kid?” he asks, holstering the gun.

Tim-Cat shrugs. “Alive. Saying something about a trap before he passed out, but we already knew this. I don’t know how he was even able to move. He’s got broken ribs and his foot shouldn’t be able point in the direction it is.”

“Adrenaline is an amazing thing.” Jason rests a hand on the doorknob, then asks one more question. “How did you find me? I thought you didn’t teleport around here?”

“I don’t. But in case you haven’t figured it out yet, I do more than just vanish and reappear elsewhere. I can sense you, which makes it very easy to track you, even up the side of the castle and into a dusty attic.”

Jason recognizes the less than subtle rebuke for what it is. The Cat is clearly ruffled by more than just the rain and he remembers his words from earlier that were pretty much an invitation for him to stay. An image of his Tim flashes before his eyes, one with that devious little smirk that never bodes well for anyone (including him).

It doesn’t stop him from releasing the knob again. Jason grips the back of Tim’s neck, gloves catching in the wet strands of hair. “I’d ask if that makes me special, but we both know the answer is no. It’s just something you do.”

“You are such a jackass.”

“Like you’re any better, Cat.” Jason punctuates the statement with a kiss, capturing those lips that look and feel just like Tim’s. If he has to stay here, if he’s completely trapped (if this isn’t a dream), then he could possibly find some semblance of happiness in these arms.

That is if the pain of what he’s lost doesn’t drive him mad. Tim.

If there’s ever been a shred of doubt that he loves Tim Drake, it vanishes from his mind.

Jason draws back and releases the Cheshire Cat. “Come on. Time to find that sword.”

As they exit the attic, neither one notices the ruby red eyes of a dark green lizard slowly blinking after them.

~*~*~

The upper levels of the Asylum are a bust, not that it’s really any surprise. The Arkham of Jason’s memory uses the above ground levels for offices, treatment rooms, and guest facilities. Everything is all nice and shiny to divert attention from the real dangers below ground. This version seems to be following the same pattern, a fact which puts Jason more and more on edge the lower they get.

Although that could be the complete lack of noise coming from anywhere besides the storm still raging outside.

Even Tim-Cat is on edge, ears and eyes darting all over. But it’s his tail that reveals just how agitated he is as it lashes from side to side.

“Simmer down, Cat,” Jason says after he almost shuts a door on Tim’s precious tail.

“I hate this,” the Cheshire Cat replies in a low tone. “If I dared to use my power here, we’d have found the sword by now.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you’re right. But at least this way keeps us from having to face the Red Knight. He’s probably pissed about what I did to his pet.”

“I’d be pissed too if someone shot me in the face.”

Jason shrugs, not wanting to get into it. He did what he had to like the good little soldier he no longer is.

Their search of the upper floors complete, they cautiously pick their way toward the stairs leading down to the main level. Jason kneels a few feet back from the balustrade and listens intently. There’s some light coming from below, the source still undiscernible from up here. What disturbs him though is that his memory of reality is now distorted because what he sees isn’t the main entrance for Arkham. Wide and expansive, the open space with its fine wood panels and vaulted ceiling belongs right out of Gone With the Wind or, worse yet, Wayne Manor.

The sudden change is unsettling, and Jason is reminded yet again that his subconscious is a dick.

The silence drags on.

“Have you ever been here before?” Jason asks, inching his way closer to the rail.

“A couple of times,” Tim-Cat replies. He hunkers down beside him and peers into the shadowy twilight below. “There’s a parlor just off the foyer where the Red Queen would make us wait whenever the White Queen visited. I remember a fireplace and some hideous paintings. From what it looks like, the parlor door is open and that’s where the light is coming from.”

Jason’s memory helpfully provides an image of the guest parlor at the front of the manor that Alfred keeps pristine. No one is allowed in there on pain of no dessert unless guests were present, and the really good manners needed to make an appearance.

To him, as well as Dick, having to sit in that room while Brucie did his thing was a punishment. Thank god he doesn’t have to go through that anymore. As the only little bird in residence, that falls to Damian now.

“Are you ready?” Tim-Cat asks, tearing Jason from his thoughts.

“I really wish I had one of Tim’s drones on me right now.” And his hood while he’s at it because for all he knows, the Red Knight has been quietly stalking them from room to room this entire time and is just waiting to say boo when they head down those stairs.

“I don’t know what that is, but it’s not too late to change our approach.” Tim-Cat shuffles a little closer to the stairs. “We can still backtrack.”

Jason is about to reply when something breaks the long silence. Wild and maniacal, it’s a sound that sends chills down his spine and a flash of terror in his heart, a reaction he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to fully suppress.

HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA

Tim-Cat hisses and scrambles back, ears pressed flat against his skull and tail stiff from fear. “No. Oh, no. No, no, no. She’s released him.”

There is no doubt Jason knows exactly who he’s talking about, but he still has to check. “Him who?”

“The Jabberwocky.”

#chibinightowl writes #Jason Todd #Tim Drake #JayTim #Jason in Wonderland

35 notes · View notes