#it’s the upper class gotham charm

[call-me-strega]

Dc x Dp Prompt #14: The Valentines Day Debacle

“debacle • \dee-BAH-kul\ • noun.

1 : a tumultuous breakup of ice in a river 

2 : a violent disruption (as of an army) : rout

3 a : a great disaster b : a complete failure : fiasco.”

~ It was Valentine’s Day and Jason regrets agreeing to go on this date.

Weelll, kind of, but not exactly.

This “date” was actually a covert-op with three caped chaperones because he, Steph, Tim and Cass were all on cases that ended up being the same case.

Steph and Tim had caught wind of some allegedly magic potions becoming popular among college students used to help students score dates with their up coming Valentines. There weren’t any outright love potions but confidence boosters, things to increase your attractiveness, luck boosters, thing to get people in the mood. They had been investigating into it to make sure this wasn’t secretly a drug ring but found it to some real magical bullshit. They’d located the source’s lair/lab where they brewed the potions but not the potion brewer themselves.

Cass had been in Hong Kong when she caught wind of one of her targets following rumors of a witch who specialized in potions to grant small boons and bewitching charms. After dealing with her target she started tracking down the witch to find out her goals and intentions. She followed her trail across Asia, Europe and a good portion of the eastern seaboard before her path led her to Gotham.

Jason was investigating some upper middle class chick that started hanging around the alley trying to get in with the prostitutes and drag queens(and only succeeding in making them suspicious). She met several young men who abandoned the gang allegiances too trail after her like puppies. His investigation showed she was also circling Gotham elites and was in search of gossip on two things: people looking for love and a beau for herself.

They had been going over their cases at a team meeting when they realized their 3 targets were all the same woman. Between the four of them they pieced out she was some new age witch, descendent from an older family line looking to get rich and in a relationship. Her potions weren't really actively harmful but her use of them to gain the upper hand in business deals and amass a following of boytoys she decided weren’t hunky enough for her but would do as muscle was.

Tim and Steph knew she was planning on selling her potions at the Valentine’s/Winter market place in Robinson Park coming up. Jason and Cass knew she was looking to net some more followers while they were there so the plan was simple. One of the guys would go undercover to try and get recruited while the others stayed nearby for back up. They’d try to get some information out of her and if the need for it arose, to take her into custody and hand her off to the Justice League Dark. They’d already talked to Zatana to have her ready to come to Gotham should things go awry and gotten a charm from her to prevent them from getting put under her control.

Oh if only this didn’t go so wrong.

Unfortunately for Jason, he matched their little witch’s tastes to a tee. Thus, he was the one stuck being dragged around market under the guise of having agreed to a date with her. She dragged him around, made him pay for her things, tried to use his stature to intimidate others and was generally rude to the other patrons and staff. Oh, Jason despised her but grit his teeth and pretended to play nice. Cass was investigating her stall and Steph and Tim were tailing them.

Finally over the comms he heard the team confirm Cass had found the info she was looking for and he could finally ditch little miss witch. He broke it to her that he thought this wouldn’t work out and her eye just twitched. She must have tried to charm him because she asked him to stay with her and become her main beau, which he soundly refused. This set her off on a rage as she screeched over how her charm didn’t work and how Jason would have been perfect if she’d been able to get him under her thumb. He tried to back off when she lashed out with a magic rope insisting once she captured Jason he’d be the perfect leader to her adoring little boyfriend army.

So yeah she was more psycho than anticipated.

Spoiler and Red Robin began to swoop in for the rescue which only served to enraged her further. That’s when the team learned that she was talented in more than just potions. She used her magic to start awakening magical creatures in the park surrounding them. Nymphs shed from trees and little snow golems formed and began attacking RR and Spoiler.

Black Bat had run over to extract Jason when the witch noticed her. She shrieked in outraged proclaiming if she couldn’t have Jason no one else would and that he could become fish food for the frost creatures of Far Frozen before picking him up with a spectral vine and slamming him through the frozen lake into a swirling blue portal. Cass tried to go after him but the witch quickly engaged her with too much feral rage to realize she was outclassed in hand to hand against Black Bat. By the time Steph and Tim fought off the nymphs and golems it was too late. Whatever whirling portal had been in the lake closed and Jason was no where to be found.

As Jason pushed through the ice he had one final thought before he felt himself black out: ‘Worst Valentine’s Day ever.’

~ The first thing Jason felt when he came to was cold. He was still submerged under icy water. It was chilled him to the core but was almost soothing in a way. As if cooling of a burn. As is opened his eyes the world seemed to move in slow motion. He was still underwater surrounded by chunks of ice. He could make out sounds of distorted yelling as the world seem to get even slower.

Suddenly he felt something grab his collar and place itself under his arm. Jason was unceremoniously hoisted out of a frozen river and laid out on a river bank. He let out a harsh cough and his head got dizzy. He tried to regain his wits long enough to see who pulled him out.

It was large figure, maybe an inch or two taller than his 6 foot, with the bulk of a viking and the looks of one too. The man appeared to be around the same age as Jason, possibly older, and very concerned. He had messy white hair that was tied(or braided? Jason’s vision was still blurry) in the back. He was wearing armor made of some sort of hide leather and a dark gray metal (iron?) and covered in snow-white furs.

Jason stared at his savior trying to get his wits about him, willing his vision to clear. That’s Jason felt a warm fur cloak wrap around him as the man said something Jason wasn’t able to comprehend. He let out another harsh cough and felt himself being picked up in a princess carry. His rescuer moved incredibly fast for someone carrying a man of Jason’s stature. However, the motion did not help with the dizziness or the cold. Jason shivered, curling towards his “heroic knight” and pulling the cloak tighter around himself. This spurred the man to go faster.

Finally, everything stopped moving and Jason felt himself encompassed in warmth. Several more furs were wrapped around him and he was laid down to rest. At last Jason’s vision cleared enough to see the other man’s face properly. He had a rugged face and a strong jawline. He had a small scar near his eyebrow and round eyes with light eye bags beneath them. He had a straight nose and bow-shaped lips.

Jason felt the world slow down again and realized he’d soon pass out from the cold. The man lifted Jason’s head and slipped a pillow underneath. A rough hand gently pushed the wet hair out of his face and caressed his cheek. Jason stared into the man’s eye. They were kind, gentle, and such a vibrant green they seemed to glow. The man gave him a small smile and the last thing Jason heard before falling asleep was a soothing voice telling him “Rest, we will take care of you.” And with that Jason felt himself relax and fell asleep.

~ When Jason came to the first thing he saw was a 20-something-foot tall yeti with an icy cybernetic arm looming over the foot of his bed.

He promptly screamed and fell out of bed.

A vaguely familiar voice called out from another room.

“ FROSTBITE! I thought I told you not to scare him!”

In walked the man that had saved Jason from an icy death. Upon closer inspection now that he wasn’t dying the man seem 10 times as beautiful than Jason remembered. He almost seemed to have this ethereal glow to him. The man continued to admonish the yeti who just laughed heartily and continued on with whatever task he was trying to complete. The man turned his attention to Jason, smiling at him in apology and lifting him back into the bed.

“ I’m sorry about Frostbite. He won’t admit it but I think he gets a crack out of scaring his patients,” He said with a placating chuckle. His mirthful eyes met Jason’s puzzled ones and he continued on as he began to fiddle with few thermoses, seemingly searching for one in particular.

“ You must be quite confused. I don’t exactly know how you ended up here but this place called the Far Frozen. I felt a pulse of magic near the river and went to investigate and ended up fished you of the water. You were nearly frozen so I brought you back to village where you could get warmed up and medics like Frostbite could help you before the actual frostbite set in.”

He chuckled at his own joke before placing a cup in Jason’s hands.

“ It’s soup, drink up. It’ll help you get warm.”

Jason hesitantly took a sip of his soup. It was surprisingly good! He continued to sip his soup and Jason observed the man. He had a rather muscular build Jason noticed, staring at the man for no other reason than assessing if he’d be a potential threat (and for absolutely no other reason). Danny finished closing up his thermos and continued to speak.

“ I promise once Frostbite treats you for any illness or injury. I’ll help you get home. -Oh where are my manners” he held his hand out for Jason to shake. “You can call me Phantom.”

“ Call me Jay,” he replied, taking Phantom’s hand and a glance at his biceps. Phantom pulled away and stood up.

“Well, I’ll let you get back to resting. I’ll come back later when Frostbite gives you a check up and we can talk about how you got here and how to get you back” He turned and began to walk out before turning his head back one last time and waved. “I’ll see in a bit Jay.”

Jason watched him go and fell back into bed having finished his soup. As he pulled the furs and blankets back over himself he thought ‘Well maybe it’s not the worst Valentine’s Day ever.’

#dc x dp #long post #dead on main #dead on main ship #jason todd #danny fenton #danny phantom #Jontun Danny Fenton #Frostbite is Danny’s ghost guardian #Cass Tim and Steph are freaking out trying to find Jason #They got Zatana on board #Time works differently in realms so it’ll be longer for Jason than for the team #Jason was totally checking Danny out #He’s suspicious but saving his life and being hot earns Danny some brownie points #The question is whether Danny knows he was being checked out #Danny is bigger than Jason in this bc Fenton genes #and also bc Jason deserves to be held and protected like a baby or a couple of grapes #The Valentine’s Day Debacle au #Happy Valentine’s Day! #Strega’s dc x dp prompt

[gotham-exclusive]

Tim, waking up after being injured: Wait... Where am I?

Kon, sarcastically: In heaven

Tim: Oh... Is that why you’re here?

Kon, trying to be mad because Tim nearly hurt himself very badly when he was being really reckless but failing to hold back a smile: You’re a shameless flirt!

#tim is totally an amazing flirt #but like accidentally #yknow those people that are just really smooth but it’s always unintentional #it’s the upper class gotham charm #tim drake #timothy drake #kon el kent #conner kent #timkon #tim drake x conner kent #red robin #superboy #dc comics #young justice #teen titans #dc cartoons #batfamily #incorrect young justice quotes #incorrect dc quotes #robin #dc #dcu #this is among my worst text posts but it’s fine

[bigskydreaming]

Headcanon that everyone within the family may think of Dick as the one most in their father’s favor, but Dick is keenly aware that the general public thinks of him as their father’s ‘Consolation Prize.’

After all, when from their perspective he’s the one Bruce raised since he was eight as his ward, with that dissolving when he was eighteen and very little perceived contact between the two of them for years after that, while Jason was adopted soon after being taken in and Dick was then later adopted years after Jason’s death, without any public fanfare.....

What does that look like other than Bruce ‘settling’ for the son who didn’t appear to be his first choice, just chronologically first, once he lost Jason but still needed/wanted an heir, as he was getting older and the general public still didn’t know yet how closely tied Tim was to the family or that it wouldn’t be long after this that Bruce adopted him too?

Now granted, you can definitely perceive the above as overly angsty and not the only way this situation was likely to be perceived outside the family, but my point is more that like.....nobody ever presumes that the general public are overly kind or generous in their views or assumptions about the Wayne family behavior. I just don’t buy that people assumed there was some optimistic explanation for the way things appeared here, or that people just went “oh its probably because the kid who grew up in that house the longest just doesn’t WANT to be adopted by the billionaire and have all the security that brings, and that’s also clearly why he lives in Bludhaven of all places and a shitty apartment building at that.”

I mean, no matter what WE the readers may know of Dick’s personal priorities and how little he cares about where he lives or that Bruce would have willingly paid for him to have a better place to live if he really wanted it, is that what people are most likely to assume, based on appearances?

Anyway, I’m just saying, I bet it bugs the crap out of Dick to hear his siblings casually refer to him as so obviously enjoying favored son status and being the clear apple of Bruce’s eye, as he’s like, cue internal monologue: gee, sure wish I was as confident of that back during the years he seemed to want nothing to do with me.

Like I’ve said before, I think Dick isn’t actually super insecure and his insecurities such as they are mostly revolve around how his family and friends perceive him, not the general public.....BUT I do think that with as high profile as the Waynes are, there’s no way that nobody picked up on how little contact Dick and Bruce had in the continuities where they literally went over a year without even speaking to each other....and like, felt free to draw their own conclusions.

 And I do think this is also part of why I default to thinking a lot of canon takes and headcanons tend to gloss over how shitty Gotham public could be in their views/treatment of Dick. Like just because Dick was basically trained from birth to be able to work a room and entertain people while in their direct presence, that didn’t actually make him ‘one of them’ in their eyes, and I reeeeeeaally don’t think you can actually underestimate the pettiness and jealousy one percenters feel when they see someone they inherently view as lesser than them - as they would’ve viewed both Dick and Jason due to their lower class births - like....’leap frogging’ over them into greater wealth via being taken in by Bruce. 

Like, idk, maybe it just comes from having been a scholarship kid who went to a richy rich private high school attended mostly by the children of senators and hotel-chain owners, lol, but like.......I can not for a second picture Gotham’s upper class actually LIKING Dick or being as charmed by him as they frequently are depicted as, just because Dick knows how to be charming and likable. Like they might play it that way when in public at a gala, for appearances or whatever....but the second he turned around they’d be badmouthing him at juuuuust a high enough volume to ensure he’d be able to HEAR them but not be able to call them on it without it looking like he went back and provoked a scene over something ‘nobody else around them heard them say’ or whatever. Just to make sure that no matter how well he came across in public social settings, he never ‘forgot his place’ or whatever or forgot that they were all too aware of it too.

And also also, it always kinda bemuses me that as much focus as the Court of Owls and Talons get in Dick’s narratives in canon and fic, that we’ve barely ever seen any examination of what the Court retroactively means for Dick’s years growing up around upper class Gothamites who likely included more than a few Court members.....like, we KNOW years later that like, all along there were these people who even without knowing who Batman and Robin were, like, knew Dick Grayson was their ‘Gray Son’ and intended to claim him as their weapon someday, and you can’t tell me that wouldn’t have factored into how they viewed and interacted with a child and teenage Dick Grayson as they attended many of the same social gatherings and functions. OR that Dick himself in the aftermath of the Court of Owls reveal, didn’t look back at his OWN childhood and reflect on how many creepy or uncomfortable encounters he had with various socialites that left him feeling decidedly skeeved out and not a fan of how they were looking at him or things they might have said to him, thinking themselves oh so clever for alluding to things he had no idea about......like, I imagine there had to be more than a few encounters from his younger years that always stuck with him, and after the Court of Owls revelation like....looked TOTALLY different to him, especially if he happened to know for sure that some of those very people were in fact Court members. BUT I DIGRESS.

All in all though it all circles back to the same thought for me.....people might have been polite to Dick’s face when he was growing up, but they most likely had plenty of shit to say the second his back was turned, and I doubt they were afraid to be overheard by him. Especially in his later years, once people noticed how distant he and Bruce seemed to be, and thus perceived that as meaning that nineteen year old Dick Grayson wasn’t as ‘protected’ by Bruce the way he was when he was younger.....meaning the people who were most jealous of Dick’s ‘catapulting’ up the social ladder and eager to knock him down a peg because of that, like....probably would have looked at the relative lack of contact between he and Bruce as far as anyone could publicly tell, and felt emboldened enough by that to up their snide whisper game with shit like gossipping about how oh, the Grayson boy may be back in Gotham again, but we all know he’s just poor Brucie’s consolation prize anyway, why, if he really cared all that much about the boy, he’d hardly have ever let him run off to Bludhaven of all places, without even making sure to staple the advantages and opportunities granted by the Wayne name to him the way he made sure to right off the bat with the younger one.....

So yeah. There’s my angsty musings on how Dick likely is perceived by Gotham public at large, and how his interactions with them - especially when NOT around Bruce and Jason and the rest of his family....probably very much does not match up with what they assume public perception of Dick is, given that in their eyes ‘everybody loves Dick Grayson,’ but in Dick’s experience ‘everybody may be charmed by Dick Grayson while he’s doing his best to be charming,’ but don’t mistake that for acceptance. Not when Gotham’s public are just as likely to dismiss him as the second choice Wayne heir and consolation prize to make themselves feel more important/elevated than him the second their own insecurities have them feeling intimidated by the wealth, power and prestige Dick does actually share in by virtue of being part of Bruce’s family.

[shy-raccoon]

Raccoonverse Riddler aka My riddling bastard son

Riddler: Edward Nygma Nashton 

Race: white, Sex: male, Gender: demiboy, Sexuality: pansexual, Age: 22, Hight: 5’8 ft, Weight: 120 lbs, Body: skinny, Skin: pale, Eyes: green, Hair: brown 

Personality: He hates himself or thinks he is god with no in between. He must be the smartest person in the room. He will have a mental breakdown if he doesn't know something or can’t solve something. He has a burning need for attention, validation & acknowledgment. He has frequent mood swings going from calm to enraged to happy to depressed in 5 minutes. He is very obsessive, intelligent, manipulative & dramatic.           

Info: He does his crimes to prove his intelligence, prove a point, for revenge or for attention. He hacks, robs, extorts, sabotages & cyberattacks corporations, gov’ts & other powerful people. He also does online fraud, piracy, counterfeiting & makes computer viruses. His gang does most of the major cybercrimes in Gotham. He kidnaps people to put them in death traps to prove their intelligence or die. He bombs gov’t/corporate property to raise the stakes for batman. He steals artifacts, paintings, precious metals/gems, tech & high fashion. His riddles are coded in his original cyphers so you have to be smart enough to solve the cypher & the riddle. He hides his riddles near his crime scenes in places he thinks only Batman would think to look.   

Past: He was physically/mentality abused by his parents & severely bullied in school. He ran away at 14 by traveling with haly’s circus to Gotham. There he worked at a casino & as the hacker enigma. He started working as a corporate spy for Wayne enterprises (philip kane). He turned against Kane so Kane tried to beat him to death. Eddie survived but was exposed as enigma by Kane & batman. Gotham’s richest got Eddie sent to Arkham instead of prison to discredit everything Eddie exposed to the public about them. Eddie decided to become the Riddler to get revenge against Gotham's upper class for putting him in Arkham.   

Relationships:  OTP: scarecrow & catwoman. Brotp: query, echo, penguin, harley quinn, mad hatter & two-face. Enemies: batman, batfam, joker, hush & poison ivy. Teams: legion of doom   

Health: OCD, NPD, HPD, PTSD, Autism, Megalomania & Schizoaffective Disorder. He was kneecapped by the Joker so he needs a cane to walk. He is nearsighted so he needs glasses.  

Skills: programming, hacking, engineering, code making/breaking, deception, investigation & escapology  

Items: cane with taser, grappling hook & various other features depending on model. He carries small explosives shaped like puzzle pieces. He has a dagger with question mark handle & handgun with question mark charm 

#riddler #edward nygma #edward nigma #edward nashton #batman villains #batman rouges #gotham rogues #redesign #rouges gallery #batman #dc comics #the riddler #dc #reimagining #character design #character description #supervillain #gotham city #raccoonverse riddler

[roguish-gallery]

Oswald Cobblepot + Finding His S/O is Pregnant HCs!

Worked on this whenever I felt stressed, anxious, or sad and needed to write something really soft and comforting. Putting this under the readmore because, holy shit, this thing is massive.

TW: Pregnancy, mentions of past child abuse and childbirth

He will literally start to cry. He has so many mixed emotions- having an s/o and a child of his own has always been a fantasy for him, something he never thought he’d get to have. He’s worried too though, and almost sick to his stomach at the idea of his s/o carrying his child. What if they inherit his looks? Does he like the idea of sharing his partner with another person? What will happen to his career if they decide to keep the baby?

Here’s the conflict- Oswald won’t admit it outright, but he has a deep compulsion to care for those he’s close to (despite him being a villain/mob boss/ whatever). It’s why he takes care of birds and why he runs a business that emphasizes customer service. Fuck it, part of the reason why he’s such a good crime lord is that he naturally likes to look out for other people. He needs to know that someone is out there relying on him and needs him.

He *also* doesn’t think he deserves nice, non-material things; he’s always worried that those he’s close to are only close to him out of pity, or are only affectionate with him because they have an ulterior motive (it’s why he’s prone to sabotage his own relationships). He’s learned not to expect people to offer him an ounce of respect, so he learned that he needs to win it over through good old-fashioned gentlemanly charm, buying it outright, or forcing it. Would he want to have a family? Of course. But he has convinced himself that he could never have one, because he has always been treated as a joke by Gotham’s upper class, criminal underworld, and his own father. That, and he’s too… odd… for anyone to want him, much less have a child with him.

Oswald considers himself incredibly lucky to have an s/o who loves him and has helped him to cope with his past traumas... but this? a child? What if something happens to his partner, and he's left to raise their child by himself?

Ultimately his papa instincts kick in, and he comes around to the idea of being a father. No matter how his child looks when they’re born, how could Oswald ever abandon his own child? How could he subject an innocent baby to the isolation and neglect he had to deal with when he was growing up? Had his mother taught him nothing about love? No, Oswald is his mother’s son, and he won’t inflict this trauma on the next generation.

Oswald is a nervous wreck during the entire pregnancy and is constantly fretting over everything. He needs the nursery to be perfect, he needs to make sure his partner and the baby are safe and happy, he needs to make sure his Lounge, employees, and pets don’t feel neglected. He needs… to convince himself that he’ll be a good father.

He is borderline insufferable with how much he coddles his s/o. They could be in their first trimester, and yet Oswald acts like they’re literally a sneeze away from going into labor. He has to make sure the water they drink isn’t too cold, or that the coat they’re wearing isn’t too tight. He genuinely doesn’t mean to be so overbearing, but his partner will definitely need to establish boundaries and know when to reign him back.

Surprisingly, he doesn’t try to suggest a shotgun marriage to his partner. Having a child out of wedlock might be a bit scandalous, but Oswald has enough problems taking care of his s/o and getting ready for the baby- his poor heart could not handle the stress of planning a wedding on top of everything else. If anything, he would just try to keep the pregnancy a secret or really, REALLY low-key to avoid the attention of rival villains and the general public.

He decides on a Beatrix Potter-themed nursery! His mother used to read him the Peter Rabbit books when he was very young, and he’d like to do that with his own child. He has a very soft spot in his heart for well-dressed forest animals who commit acts of mischief.

Oswald *also* has a massive sympathetic pregnancy. He gets sick regularly, and his employees at the Iceberg are often subject to his mood swings.

He’s reluctant to interact with the baby directly. He doesn’t like how firm his partner’s stomach is whenever he touches it, and his only concerns during the prenatal checkups are if the baby is healthy. Feeling them kick against his touch only reminds him of all the things that could go wrong.

His concern for his s/o comes first though. If they want to be comforted, he’ll be at their beck and call for as long and hold them for as long as they need. He’ll get up at three in the morning, and throw a robe on to buy gravy and toaster waffles to appease his partner’s cravings (which is its own story, given the fact that he’s never shopped at a 24/7 Wal-Mart before).

He’s an absolute mess when his partner goes into labor- he tries to keep himself collected for the sake of his partner (and to not look vulnerable to the medical staff) but he’s trembling throughout the entire ordeal.

His main priority is his partner throughout the entire ordeal, even after the baby is born. He knows that he’ll have time with his child later, but all he wants to do now is make sure his s/o is comfortable and safe. He’s also… scared that he’ll see his baby, and hate them the same way his father did when he saw Oswald for the first time.

He always comes around though, and after his s/o falls asleep, he’ll cautiously come up to check on the baby. They're so small… but they fit just fine in his arms- how could he have ever been apprehensive to meet such a perfect, gentle soul? It's overwhelming for him, and everything that he's been trying to bottle up over the past nine months finally spills over and he starts to weep with relief.

#oswald cobblepot #the penguin #headcanons #dc headcanon #Yall I TOLD you that I go feral over kidfic domestic stuff. lives rent-free in my head. #tw pregnancy #tw childbirth

[forestlingincorporated]

Bernard Dowd

DC made me do it. Fandom made me do it. So here it is, the character retrospective I never thought I’d ever write. 

Bernard Dowd was introduced on December 17th, 2003, in Robin #121. Tim has recently transferred to Louis E. Grieve Memorial High School, his fourth school since his introduction when he was 13; Tim is 16 now, and was recently forced to drop out of Brentwood due to his father’s bad investments loosing them their upper class status. Jack and Dana Drake are still alive. 

Bernard Dowd is the first person Tim meets when transferring to this new school. Bernard picks him out of the crowd as new, and immediate tries to determine what Tim’s clique is, only to determine, as we all know, Tim is pretty much impossible to cleanly box. 

Bernard thinks very highly of himself. He views himself as also being above cliques, and wants to give Tim the impression that he’s “runs the school.” He thinks of himself as a cool guy, and he doesn’t like to be called “Bernie.” 

His attempts to befriend Tim are rather presumptive in a way that comes off as rude. He treats Tim like a lost little lamb in need of guidance. 

So, Tim ends up casual friends with Bernard. In fact, at this point in time, Tim says he’s his only friend at school. 

Bernard has a crush on fellow classmate and lowkey daughter of a crime boss, Darla Aquista. (Yes, that Darla Aquista, of TimSteph relationship drama fame.) He is the one to introduce Tim to Darla, and Tim embarrasses him by calling his bluff over whether or not he’d actually ask her out if her jock friends were removed from the picture. This is when you start to get the feeling Bernard might be all talk and bravado. He’s not the cool, confident, popular guy he makes himself out to be. 

After Tim looses Robin, he invites Bernard over for dinner with his family. His and Tim’s relationship seems... complicated. On the one hand, Tim likes him enough to invite him over to his house, and he’s probably Tim’s closest friend during a period of time when his other relationships are distant (friends at other schools) or cut entirely (the hero community). That said, Bernard is CLEARLY depicted as... skeezy, and skeezy about people in Tim’s life, in a way Tim doesn’t appreciate. 

Months later, if the passing of seasons is to be believed, Bernard is the person to inform Tim that there’s a new Robin. Tim seems to have a larger friend group at Louis E. Grieve, he’s worked out a friendship with Darla even though she still seems to have a slight crush on him, and seems to be friends with several of the footballers, but he still has time for Bernard. 

Bernard believes wild conspiracies that Batman works for a shadow government and owns secret orphanages full of Robins that only last for about three days before they die and get buried in secret government graveyards. 

We don’t see Bernard for a while after this. Darla Aquista is shot at school, dying in Tim’s arms. Stephanie Brown’s death is faked. Tim’s father dies, and his stepmother is in such mentally bad shape she has to be checked into a special clinic in Bludhaven, so Tim transfers to John Wayne High School, his fifth school since he was 13. 

A lot of shit goes down between the school shooting and the next (and last) time we see Bernard in Robin #140. He’s meeting up with a girl named Linda, when his vehicle is destroyed by none other than Darla Aquista, back from the dead as Warlock’s Daughter, who is looking for Tim. 

After she scares the shit out of him, they go to Gotham Grille for age-appropriate drinks, and Bernard tells her that the high school closed down after the shooting and all the students’ families received settlement money. With that money, Bernard attended an unnamed private school. 

He offers to help her become a superhero, which she turns down. While he’s pretty rude to Linda over the phone, he’s depicted softer here, He seems earnest in his desire to help Darla, even if he still has an underlying bit a selfishness. I personally feel like he comes off a little less like the Annoying Try Hard he started out as, and has a bit more Booster Gold-esque charm to him. 

But, we never see him again, after he helps her track down Tim’s new address with his Fake Uncle, so he was lost to the pile of Tim’s former normal boy friends to be forgotten. 

UNTIL BATMAN: URBAN LEGENDS! 

Right now, everyone is excited because Batman: Urban Legends #4′s been released and Tim Drake has some strong Might End Up Coming Out As MLM Soon? vibes. He’s got this Discovering New Things About Himself arc in this comic that’s framed in a very Gay Coded way. Focusing on a gay male couple with the dialog box “like me” over it, Barbara talking about how he’s afraid looking too deeply at himself might “change” him, stuttering over how his old friend “looks,” and of course this pseudo date he’s goes on with Bernard. 

I cannot actually analyze the whole comic in depth, because I don’t own it; I ordered the trade, so I won’t be receiving it until December. This is what I’ve gathered from screen shots of this comic alone. I don’t think Urban Legends is technically in the main canon, but I would not be surprised if this was a test to see how audiences respond - like Joker shooting Barbara Gordon in The Killing Joke (which isn’t canon) resulting in Barbara Gordon’s very canon paralysis. 

There’s some speculation at the moment that Bernard himself might actually be evil, or working for the bad guys. I think it’s equally possible he might be targeted by the bad guys, and not necessarily evil himself. But neither scenario would particularly surprise me, it seems unlikely he would be reintroduced as solely a potential love interest for Tim, if that is indeed the route they’re going down. Consider old flames of Bruce’s that get reintroduced, they’re often connected to the plot in some way. 

I... have not exactly sugar coated that I don’t like Bernard. Honestly, I AM trying to be fair. THIS Bernard seems lovely, from the screen caps, but my most recent experience with Bernard was a recent reread of the Robin series, and I just don’t find him historically likable. Some people may disagree, but I personally think some of those some people are maybe going back after reading THIS comic and rereading him with rose-tinted glasses he hasn’t quite earned. 

So, I personally am not going to start shipping this, at least not right now, though I am putting on my clown make up getting my hopes up that Tim might come out as gay or bi. I’m personally hoping he’s gay, but that’s just me seeing a lot of myself in Tim, and projecting my own experience with compulsory heterosexuality onto him, and I think it would be interesting to explore that with an established character. I would still be happy with bi/pan Tim Drake, and I think that would probably make the most people happy - fans of Tim’s opposite-sex ships get to win, and fans of Tim’s queer ships get to win, and bi/pan people would get a big name character as representation. What would make the most people angry, is if this ends up as a queerbait during Pride Month of all things. 

I... have no hope they might make him demisexual, I don’t know if DC even knows what that word means. 

#bernard dowd #robin comics #batman: urban legends

[labyrinth-runner]

A Lotus in a Murky Pond

A part of A Garden in Gotham

Roman Sionis x Reader

No warnings. Pure relationship building. Not my gif

Roman had the driver take you to the fanciest restaurant in town. You shifted uncomfortably in the car as you talked about things like your favorite movies. He was into horror and action, but you were into romantic comedies. However, when you mentioned your favorite movie, his eyes sparked in recognition even though he said he hadn’t seen it. Was he lying to you? Perhaps he thought that not liking things like that made him more of a man, but you didn’t care. If anything, you preferred having someone who would enjoy watching your favorite movies with you. 

He opened the door for you when you reached your destination. You had to blush a bit, he was much more of a gentlemen than any of the other men you had dated. You knew you were dressed to impress and fit in with the crowd in this restaurant, but you felt like a fraud. Carefully, you looked over the menu as Roman ordered a bottle of wine that cost more than your daily flower budget. Part of you looked at the prices when deciding what to order, not wanting to be a burden.

“I think I might get a salad,” you murmured.

“Darling, get whatever you want,” he replied. 

“I think the bill here might end up being more than my utilities combined,” you joked.

He reached across the table and took your hand in his, gently running his thumb over your knuckles. “Let me spoil you. Relax.”

You forced a smile and nodded, deciding on something you actually wanted. Dinner actually went well. You chatted about everything and anything under the sun. He was charming, you had to admit, and being with him almost put you at ease. Almost. 

When dinner was over, you expected to just go home, but instead you ended up at the very same charity ball that you had arranged flowers for earlier that day.

“Roman, you were invited to this?” you asked as he walked up the steps into the event center.

“Wayne and I go back,” he grimaced.

Gently, he led you into the gala. Immediately, you felt the stares of everyone. Was Roman really such a big deal in these parts? Who were you dating? Their stares bore into you, sizing you up and measuring you against some upper class checklist that you knew you would come up against as lacking. Roman either didn’t seem to notice, or he just didn’t care. He led you into the middle of the dance floor.

“Roman, what are you doing?” you asked, panicking slightly.

“Dancing with my date,” he replied pointedly.

The music was a waltz. You weren’t that uncultured. You’d seen the Princess Diaries as a kid. Still, you didn’t quite know how to dance it. Her feet in the movie had been under a huge ball gown. She could have been doing the cotton-eyed joe under there for all you knew. It was no surprise then, that you immediately stepped on Roman’s foot by accident. He let out a slight noise of displeasure and grimaced, causing you to wince.

“I’m so sorry!” you apologized, covering your mouth with your hands, concern was apparent in your eyes.

“Darling, how about I lead? Kay?” he smirked.

You nodded, replacing your hands on his shoulder and in his. Gracefully, he led you through the dance. For a moment, it was almost as if the rest of the world fell away. It was just the two of you in this world on your own. You were drowning in his eyes as they watched you so intensely. 

“They’re judging me,” you murmured, looking down at the ground to watch your feet. 

Gently, he tipped your chin back up to him. “Eyes on me, darling. So what if they do? They may have material wealth, but you have wealth of character. Don’t let them discount that.”

A small smile formed on your face at that. “Do you really think that?”

“Of course. Now, tell me, what flower means wealth?” he asked curiously, a smile on his face. He knew he was doing. He was trying to get you to feel more at home so that you would relax and enjoy yourself.

“A Lotus,” you murmured.

“They can grow in some pretty murky ponds,” he smiled.

“Can’t get any murkier than Gotham,” you chuckled.

“No,” he sighed. “I suppose you can’t.”

He had a faraway look on his face then. You’d sent him away from you into a world of his own devising and you weren’t quite sure how to get him back. He was waltzing on autopilot. When the music stopped, you leaned forward to kiss his cheek. “Come back to me.”

He blinked slightly, eyes refocusing on you. “I’m sorry. I... I don’t know what came over me,” he murmured. “Perhaps we should get going.”

You nodded, feeling a shift in the evening. “Alright.”

The ride back home was a little silent. You didn’t know what was going on in the turbulent storms of his mind. You didn’t know how your comment on Gotham being murky had sent him spiraling. He had begun to wonder if this could work. You were a precious flower, and he... well, he was one of the reasons that Gotham was so murky. Perhaps he might even be the murkiest of them all. What right did he have to drag you from the sunlight at the top into the dangerous depths of the water below. You wouldn’t survive under the water. People couldn’t appreciate your beauty if they couldn’t see it in the darkness.

“Roman, how do you want me to return this outfit?” you asked.

“Keep it,” he replied absentmindedly.

“Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly-”

“Keep the dress!” he snapped, taking in your shocked expression before sighing. “Look, you look lovely in it. It would be a shame for me to deprive the world of ever seeing such a vision as this again.”

You blushed slightly as the car pulled up in front of your apartment building.

“Walk me to my door?” you asked hopefully.

“Of course,” he smiled, recovering from his outburst. 

You held his hand as he walked you up the stairs and into the building. You made your way to the door of your apartment. “Well, this is me,” you murmured.

“So it seems.”

“Look, Roman,” you sighed. “I won’t lie to you, I was a little uncomfortable tonight. But, it didn’t have anything to do with you. It’s just... your world.”

“My world?” he asked, sagging a bit.

“I feel like I don’t belong,” you clarified. “But when its just us talking, I like it. I like you.” You took both his hands in yours. “And... if I didn’t fuck tonight up too much, I’d love to go out with you again next weekend... but I get to plan the date. It’ll be something a little more my speed if you’re alright with that.”

He brightened like a child handed a cookie. “I’d love that.”

Tentatively, you reached out and cupped the side of his face. A blush settled into your face when he leaned into your touch, almost as if he craved it. Slowly, you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his. He kissed back softly, causing you to chuckle.

“What?” he asked in annoyance.

“Nothing. It’s just... I didn’t picture you as someone who held back,” you grinned, biting your lip.

“You want me to let go?” he asked with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Roman, if we’re going to do this, I want to go all in. Give me all of you, and I’ll give you all of me,” you smiled.

He nodded, taking both sides of your face in his hands and kissing you fiercely as he pushed you into the wall next to your door. You were breathless by the time he pulled away.

“Good night, Roman,” you breathed.

“Good night darling.”

He watched you disappear into your apartment before doing a little dance in the hall. Roman made his way back to the car and slipped into the back seat.

“Sorry, boss, you tried,” Zsasz said with a smirk.

“Why are you apologizing?” Roman asked in confusion.

“Because your date went so poorly. I know how badly you wanted this to work out,” Zsasz said in mock sympathy.

“And it did work out. We’re going out again next weekend. She’s planning the date,” he grinned in glee.

Zsasz suppressed a frustrated groan. You were proving to be more trouble than he thought.

#Roman Sionis #A Garden in Gotham #roman sionis x reader

[sarriathmg]

Omega Jason Todd Week 2020 Day 7: Free day #2 - Historical AU - 1700s What happens if none of the prompts you wanted to do made it? Why, crunch them all on the free day, of course!

Pfft yall have no proof that I'm just looking for excuses to put Jason in various dresses AO3 link ----

“I despise this,” Jason whispered to himself as he ripped the elaborate powdered wig off of his head and threw it aside, “this is atrocious.”

He really didn’t understand the reason why he had to do this. The whole rationale behind having to use his omega charms to approach the Waynes completely evaded him. Not when he had to dress in these ridiculous red satins and side hoops, barely able to move with him tripping over his gown every second step. The tightly laced stays he wore made his torso stiff and the dainty shoes hurt his feet. Jason hated how demeaning the low laced collar was, practically revealing his breasts for all the world to see, evoking interested looks to shoot at him from alphas all around which Jason absolutely detested. He also hated the perfumes that he was made to wear. They were too sweet, too artificial. Too obviously omega.

“I will kill Roman for this,” he said through clenched teeth. And to think the bastard alpha had the audacity to suggest that he also powder his face white and rouge his cheeks. He missed his coat, his red-colored hooded cloak and his simple mask (not like the frilly one he’s forced to wear to the masked ball), and his boots (God, did he miss his boots). But most importantly, Jason missed his guns. He missed his belt and his firearms, and he wished he was anywhere but here, dressed in unisex habits wreaking havoc in the harbor near the Wayne’s ships instead of standing here pretending to be some vulnerable damsel wearing these demeaning pannier and bows and satins that dragged on the ground, trying to use his omega attractiveness against the supposedly unsuspecting Waynes.

Jason huffed out a frustrated sigh before looking around himself. And, after making sure that no one was staring, he quietly and stealthily took off the ruffled red domino mask to reveal his face. Jason wanted a break. He needed one.

The Waynes had three sons and only one of them was alpha, a rich kid who was more into playing around than any official courtship and more into forming his own pack of misfits than staying home and taking over the pack legacy like a responsible alpha son should. Jason had read all the files on Richard Grayson before Roman had made him prepare for the ball, and he wasn’t convinced one bit that this plan was going to work.

‘But wouldn’t it be easier if you used an omega with more finesse who is more experienced with higher society?’ he’d asked.

‘Son,’ Roman had answered, right before he helped lace on Jason’s stays, ‘you’re selling yourself short. Besides, your training made you the best omega for this job.’

Except it’s easier said than done. Trying to disguise himself as a fine omega who’s lived among aristocracy his whole life when he was in actuality but a street urchin found curled up in the gutter was bloody hard. Jason didn’t have a smidge of clue on how to act properly and pretend to be a respectable omega like the rich bastards he was finding himself amongst right now. Only making things harder was him trying to locate the couple of targets he was meant to seduce in a massive ballroom where every single alpha, omega, and even some betas had their faces hidden behind masks. Jason had no clue what either Wayne or Grayson looked like in real life, which meant it was almost impossible to locate them among tens of masked attendants.

And speaking of which, of course, someone just had to decide to speak to Jason the same moment he removed his.

“May I have this dance?”

The voice sounded behind him with a classy but seductive alpha timbre. Jason looked back only so he could yell at the pretentious male to get lost. But that’s not what ended up happening. As soon as he had his eyes set on the young man, Jason immediately forgot what he was going to say.

A young alpha - perhaps only a few years older than Jason and dressed in black and blue - was holding his hand out to him in a polite and gentlemanly way. His hair was raven black, wavy, and down to his shoulders. His coat had golden trims and decorations embroidered among the smooth surface of the bright blue satin, yet they didn’t look overly ornate in any way. If anything, they made the man’s cerulean-blue eyes stand out even more under his simple silken black domino mask.

“You’re not from around here, I presume?” the alpha asked, still holding out his hand, black silken glove with blue strips catching some of the light from the wall lamps surrounding them, “if there had been such a fine omega around Gotham before, I would’ve noticed.”

There’s something...fraudulent in the alpha’s mannerism. The smile on his lips did not reach his eyes, his words were practiced, and Jason was way too familiar with the look in the man’s eyes which showed an alpha’s inquisitive behavior that Jason had known from his days on the streets. The scents he wore were also artificial, smelling eternally of calm sandalwood and lime, not giving away anything about the alpha’s true emotions or intentions.

Jason swallowed. His eyes quickly darted towards his side, catching a glimpse of Roman walking by while sipping a glass of wine, eyes trailing to him unsuspectedly under the black skull mask he wore. And Jason immediately knew this was a dance that he’s not allowed to turn down.

“You have a keen eye,” Jason said instead, couldn’t hold down the almost sarcastic tone in his voice as he placed his own gloved hand onto the alpha’s fancily clad ones, “care to tell me more about this city?”

As he let the alpha lead him down to the dance floor, Jason was beginning to feel anxious. Roman did in fact hire a tutor to train him in the dances of the upper-class, but Jason didn’t know if he’s adequate enough to keep up. He still had his mask in his hand, so Jason restored it back onto his face.

They began an allemande, starting their tip-toed dance to the trendy orchestral music that had gotten quite popular in the past decade before holding hands and twirling around each other, their fake alpha and omega perfumes mixing in a chaotic whirlpool of imitation of courtship pheromones.

“There’s a lot about Gotham that I could talk about,” the young and beautiful alpha finally spoke up, his long hair softly bouncing and whirling around with his movement, a loose strand temporarily stuck to the side of his mask before falling away and joining the others. “I don’t know what could interest a young omega like you. Do you rather talk about the elite or the poor?”

“Anything interesting, I suppose,” Jason answered with barely-concealed boredom, “my interests are broad, despite my designation.”

“In that case,” the alpha held his hand and they twirled around, a wave of dizziness suddenly catching Jason by surprise, “I suppose you might have heard about the mysterious red-hooded rogue who’s been attacking the harbors?”

Jason put on his practiced impassive visage and lied, “No. Care to tell me?”

Another swirl, and this time the alpha caught a hold of his waist and his hand, and they swayed in the music like two bodies in one.

“Well,” the alpha said thoughtfully, “forgive me for mentioning such a dark matter in front of an omega. The man calls himself Red Hood, and seemed to harbor a hate for the rich. He had been sabotaging Wayne's shipments for almost a month. But it’s nothing someone like you should worry about...we town folks are generally safe, despite being the ‘rich’ that the fiend hates so much.”

“Doesn’t seem like a topic one would talk about with an omega they just met at a ball,” Jason deadpanned.

“You’re right,” the alpha said, an amused tone in his voice, “but it’s something that’s been happening to Gotham which a newcomer might find helpful. And, since it appears this is your first ball, I think it’s proper of me to help...break the ice, so to speak.”

“What makes you think that?”

“Oh, many things,” the alpha laughed, “like how your mannerism doesn’t match with someone educated in high society from birth, or how you look like you are struggling to move in those garments.”

He took Jason’s hand and they made a swirl, the orchestral music in the ballroom ringing fancily in the omega’s ears.

“Although,” the alpha then mused, “isn’t it strange, that no one truly knows Red Hood’s designation, even though most just assumed he is alpha, like most rogues? It does seem a rather rare coincidence that a lovely omega like you would show up suddenly at the Wayne’s ball around the same time their shipments are being sabotaged by an elusive red-hooded figure.”

Jason was so shocked that he didn’t know what to say. He was suddenly glad that the perfumes he wore were heavy-scented enough that it could hide his true anxiety. He almost fell by tripping on the side of his gown, but the mysterious young alpha caught his waist just in time.

The alpha supported him until Jason was able to balance himself on his heels again. Then, he held his hand in a gentlemanly fashion as Jason stared at him speechless and dumbfounded.

“Forgive my ill manners,” the alpha said, “I apologize for my intrusive words. It’s not every day one could find a lovely omega to talk to. You seemed to be someone with similar interests as me despite your designation, so I let myself speak more than I should have.”

And then he kissed his hand, soft lips feeling warm even as they were obstructed by silken gloves. The young alpha’s long hair dropped down and tickled him through the fabric, and for a moment Jason had the insane thought that even his fake sandalwood scents smelled pleasant.

“We will meet again, my lovely omega,” the alpha said as he began to step away, still holding Jason’s hand a while longer as their arms stretched a little to accommodate. There’s something in the alpha’s expression and tone that told Jason he wasn’t just speaking to be polite. He actually meant it.

Then, the alpha was gone, leaving Jason to stand and contemplate the situation by himself.

#ojtw2020 #omegajasontoddweek #Jason Todd #dick grayson #dickjay #omega jason todd #bottom jason todd #myart

[pl-panda]

Damienette arranged marriage: part 9

If someone wants to know how I can write three chapters in the span of 24 hours... I have no idea, but this is around 5k words, so ten times the length of essay I was supposed to write today. But it is more interesting.

Credits: Miraculous Ladybug team for the elements I take from MLB show. DC for their characters, @ozmav for the AU, @maribat-archive for giving me access to so many different stories to have take inspirations from, @thyladyanput for idea for Chat Damian and me for the plot.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Part 8

Damienette arranged marriage: part 9

NEXT

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They got into her room and Chloe locked the doors.

“Okay. Now you explain to me Dupain-Cheng how did you manage to get a mysterious Damian Wayne, the damned ‘Ice Prince’ of Gotham, to act like a lost puppy toward you.”

-------

Marinette almost fainted. She had an urge to mentally facepalm. Of course Chloe would recognize a celebrity. It was stupid to bring her so close to Damian on the first meeting. Maybe from the distance she would shrug it off or ignore this, but now that she saw them interact and could get a better look at him there was almost no denying it. But Marinette would still try. 

“Wayne? I have no idea who are you talking about. This is Damian Grayson. He can’t be Wayne if his name is Grayson. Besides aren’t Wayne’s this rich and powerful family running an international company? Damian is not rich. He is just an exchange student…” Marinette tried to talk her way out of it, but the expecting face Chloe was making told her it was not working. “Yes, this is Damian Wayne…” The bluenette relented

“Nice try Dupain-Cheng. Maybe I would even believe you if I didn’t know better.” She stated before walking to her wardrobe. Chloe then started to toss out multiple clothes onto her giant bed. 

“Wait! That’s it?” Marinette questioned. She expected… something. 

“Well, while you tell me how did you melt his heart I can at least start looking for something utterly fabulous for you to wear. I can’t stand this ridiculous outfit you wear right now. So spill!”

Marinette looked at Damian and he shrugged. “tt. I am not getting involved. You brew this and you solve this.”

“I will get you back for that.” the bluenette threatened with a smile. They both knew this was mostly a tease. Marinette turned to see Chloe with three dresses. One was lemony yellow, one was smooth pink and one was deep red. “Uh… Red one?” Blonde shoved the cloth piece at the girl and pushed her into the bathroom. 

“I’m waiting for a tale Dupain-Cheng.”

“Okay. Okay.” This girl has probably the best interrogation tactics I’ve ever seen… “So yesterday Damian joined our class as part of some exchange program. He decided to sit next to me and we exchanged few words. After classes his pen slipped under the desk and he had to get down to pick it up. Lila thought I was alone and decided to threaten me to stay away from him and the next thing either of us know is he held the sword to her throat. After that he asked me out and that’s the story.”

Marinette walked from the bathroom and Damian felt air leave his lungs. She wore a modest red dress that reached a bit beyond her knees. It had long sleeves that ended about one and a half inch before her wrist. The upper part was a bit darker than the lower part, but otherwise there was no decorations. It hugged her small figure perfectly, but at the same time was not restaining and allowed much space to breathe. Marinette looked beyond stunning, at least to him. Pull it together Wayne. You are not some emotional schoolgirl. You are cool and collected. You are the Prince of Assassins. Damian tried not to blush. But then there was another voice inside him. And she is your princess and your wife. Get your game together. Somehow, it sounded pretty close to Beast Boy’s voice. 

“Close your mouth hunny or you will catch flies.” Chloe laughed. “It looks perfect, but I think you need one more thing.” She walked to the bluenette who was feeling a bit insecure about this look. Chloe pulled her hair bands off and let the hair flow freely. “Now you look perfect.” 

“I… I don’t know.” Marinette spinned around to see herself in the mirror. “Are you sure?”

“Check the lover-boy over there and you will believe me.” Without turning Chloe pointed to Damian who was still glaring at the girl in red. An idea came to Marinette’s head. She would get her revenge faster than she expected. She slightly nodded toward Chloe’s phone that was laying nearby. Luckily, they had an understanding. Marinette turned so she was now facind Damian and looked deep into his eyes. She stood there smiling the most prominent smile she could muster. Suddenly, a flash illuminated the room. “And done. Already sent it to your phone Dupain-Cheng.”

The light finally got Damian’s brain to start up. He looked at Chloe holding a phone with camera aimed at him and Marinette giggled. “Told you I would get back at you for that.”

If it was anyone else, he would curse them, threaten them or just punch them, but strangely he couldn’t get angry at the bluenette. “Worth it.” He stated with a smug grin. “If having an embarrassing picture taken is the price to see you look so beautiful, then I am willing to pay it.” He complimented her and Marinette felt like her face turned more or less the color of her dress. 

“Smooth mr. Ice Prince Charming.” Chloe commented. She then took a picture of blushing Marinette. “Now you are even. Close your mouth Dupain-Cheng. You are the one to start catching flies now.” The blonde then turned back to Damian and her face took the standard expecting look. “Now back to you. Care to explain why exactly did you decide to ask her out of all people out? You have tons of girls throwing themselves at you and yet you chose her.”

Damian didn’t answer immediately. He had to think this through. The big factor was that she was technically his wife, but through the last twenty-four hours he came to conclusion that if they weren’t married, he would still ask her out. She was… her. He had no other word for this. But his mother was in details. “She saw me as just Damian. I felt that I could be myself with her.”

“Sweet. Want some tea to this sugar?” Chloe deadpanned. “No seriously, want something to drink? I… I only ever had Sabrina in here and she drank just the tap water.”

Damian was honestly not surprised. Chloe had the Queen Bee personality and they usually only had followers, not friends. But he actually liked the no-nonsense personality. “Green Tea with half spoon of honey.” He stated and walked to the couches.

“And for you Dupain-Cheng?”

“Uh… water?” Marinette was still not entirely sure what to do with this situation. Chloe was not herself while at the same time being herself. It was… strange. Blonde just shrugged and made a quick call downstairs.

“It will come soon.” She walked to the couch and sat, motioning them to do the same.

The bluenette remembered that she still had some macaroons with her so she pulled the box and placed it on the table. “Maman and papa made them for me and Damian, but you can have some too.” She nudged the box slightly toward Chloe, who reluctantly took one.

“... Thank you Dupain-Cheng.” She said after a moment of hesitation. Another tear formed in her eye. “I am truly sorry how I treated you. You did not deserve this.”

“tt. On that we can agree.” Damian almost growled. “After today don’t be surprised to see a change in teachers.”

“What?” Marinette almost jumped. “No. Madame Bustier is a good teacher.”

“She is unfit to even be in the same space as anyone below her age. This woman will be lucky if she doesn’t face criminal charges.” Damian held the urge to spit, but he didn’t want to damage anything in this room. It looked more expensive than his room at Wayne’s manor and this was saying something. 

“But… But…” Marinette tried to find right words. “Madame Bustier is so lovely. She has her… original methods of teaching, but everyone would defend her in a blink of an eye.”

“tt. That doesn’t excuse her. Sadly this type of procedure usually takes years if school is not willing to cooperate. And yours definitely won’t. Bunch of idiots.” The last part was added in arabic so neither girls understood. There was an uncomfortable silence between them for a moment until Marinette decided to stop beating around the bat.

“Chloe… It’s not that I don’t appreciate the change, in fact I am proud of you, but… why? what made you change so suddenly?”

The blonde shifted in her place. It was clearly an uncomfortable topic. Finally, she decided to play an open hand. Deep inside, Chloe wanted to have real friends. She saw how Damian looked at Marinette and how he spoke about her acting normal toward him. When Adrien spoked about things like this she could never understand what he meant. But now she finally got it. It was this feeling of being just herself. “I was lonely. Sabrina left me and became a loyal Lila worshipper, surpassed only by Alya. And Adrien… He cut himself off completely about a month ago. Now he plays along whatever Lila plans for him.” She had a small tear forming in her eye, but she quickly wiped it out before it ruined her makeup (not that there was much of it left). “I… I went to talk with my father, demanding he do something about the liar. But my mother was there and… and… and she laughed at me. She said that it’s utterly ridiculous and if my friends left me it’s because of me and not someone else. But the most painful part was that she was right. My friends left me and others hated me. I was completely alone. It was utterly… awful.” Marinette handed her the box so she could cheer herself with another treat. It worked. “I am so sorry Dupain-Cheng. For the first time I was on the receiving end of harsh words and painful comments. I never imagined how much it hurt.”

“Well, I am happy you realize your mistakes.” Marinette smiled and Damian clicked his tongue again. 

“But,” the Wayne heir started, “it is not that easy to earn forgiveness. Just because Marinette is too good for this world does not mean I will let you exploit her good heart.”

“Damian!” The girl in question shouted at him. “I am a grown-up girl who can make her own decisions.” 

“You are fifteen and have heart made of pure gold” He deadpanned.

“You are fifteen too. And we are married, so we are as adult as a person can be.” She stated in mandarin grinning at him. 

“This doesn’t prove anything. And I am still your husband.” He argued.

Chloe sat there, not sure what to make of the discussion. She was about to say something when something crashed through the window. The three teens starred at the form of Chat Noir. He was looking different. His ears and tail were real instead of accesories and instead of bell on his neck he had only a choker with word ‘Marinette’ written on it.

“My Purrincess! I come to save you!”

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[sexy-monster-fucker]

Muse

Roman Sionis x Artist!Reader

requested by anon:  can you do a fic where roman falls in love with an artist in a meet cute way please 🥺

a/n:  This is a really cute request, I am excited.  It is so SWEET I got a cavity.  sorry if this seems lazy, it was just cute and I wanted to write it cute.  

~~~

You had met him at a gallery exhibit you were hosting.  He had asked the owner whose work was on display; he wanted to meet whoever it was.  

“Y/N, someone is very interested in your work,” the owner walked up with a man beside her.  

He was very dressed up.  He wore a rather fancy suit with sunglasses decorating his eyes.  Your first thought upon seeing him was how handsome he was.  He was older than you, but that did not change the thoughts that danced in your mind of his handsomeness.  You did not realize who he was at first.  

He extended his hand to you, “Roman Sionis.  Your work is fabulous.”  His name hit you like a bus.  One of the richest men in Gotham was charmed by your work.  You blushed slightly.  You shook his hand and introduced yourself.  The shake lingered as you both smiled widely at one another.  “I will allow you two to speak alone,” the owner excused herself.  

“So, Mr. Sionis, what brought you out today,” you could not help but smile at the man before you.  “Well, a friend of mine had said they heard about the exhibit.  I’m in the market for a new piece and I was hoping your skills could provide.  You are very talented, Miss L/N,” he winked at you.  You felt embarrassment surge through you.  You had not felt this way around someone since you were in high school and your crush would talk to you.  “Thank you,” you nibbled at the side of your mouth.  He smirked at you.  Your giddiness was showing, but you did not mind.  “What kind of piece were you looking into getting?”  “We can discuss that over dinner, if you’d be so kind as to join me?”  Roman smiled at you.  Your eyes widened.  

“When and where, Mr. Sionis?”  

Roman licked his teeth, “Tonight as soon as this closes.  I’ll pick you up outside.”  “I don’t have anything to wear,” you opposed.  Not that you weren’t dressed nice, but it was not something you’d wear to a date.  You’d rather look a little more alluring for a date with someone as handsome and prestigious as Roman.  He pulled a card from his coat pocket, “Text me your favorite color and size and I’ll have something here for you.”  You blushed at his forwardness.  You took the card and smiled, “You don’t have to do that.”  Roman shrugged, “Consider it a reward for your hard work.  Your passion truly shows.  I will see you in a few hours, Y/N.”  

Roman exited the building.  You felt butterflies in your stomach.  You were excited for your date.

~

The night was coming to a close.  The owner had told you someone dropped something off for you.  You thanked her as she handed you a dress on a hanger.  

You practically gasped at how beautiful the dress was.  It was your favorite color and, God, was it gorgeous.  You went into the back and changed.  It fit perfect.  You admired yourself in the mirror.  You walked out and the owner smiled at you, “Who’s the lucky guy?”  You blushed, “Believe it or not, Roman Sionis.”  Her eyes widened at you, “Seriously?  Like the Roman Sionis who was here earlier?!”  You nodded with a quiet laugh.  She smiled widely, “Well, holy shit, Y/N!  Good for you!”  She was congratulating you.  “He said he would be here as soon as we closed, so I should probably go,” you smiled.  The owner waved you off, “Have fun!”  

You stepped outside and saw a older black car waiting.  Roman got out of the back with a smile on his face, “Hello there.  You look stunning.”  You walked over to him, “Thank you.  You really did not have to get me this.”  He was holding the door for you, “Don’t worry about it.  I love spoiling people.”  You got in the back seat, scooting to the other side so he could get back in.  He got in after you, smiling over at you as he closed the door.  

The ride over was mostly silent.  Roman and his driver talked mostly.  You did not know what to say.  He would ask you a few questions and you’d answer.  The car came to a stop in front of one of the nicest restaurants in Gotham.  You had only ever dreamed of eating somewhere that nice.  Roman got out, walking over to your side of the car and opening the door.  You thanked him as you got out.  He smiled while guiding you to the door.  He had made reservations for the two of you.  

You walked inside.  The building was gorgeous.  It sparkled from the ceiling to the floor.  You felt special even stepping inside.  The waiter walked the two of you over to a table in a room all by yourselves.  Roman pulled your chair out for you.  You thanked him as you sat.  He pushed the chair in, walking over and sitting across from you.  You both ordered drinks and the waiter stepped away.  Roman smiled at you from across the small table.  

“So, Y/N, how has your day been,” Roman began.  You nodded, “Um, good.  The gallery wasn’t that busy, but I’m just thankful to be there.”  You could not help but stare at how handsome he looked.  Not only did he have looks, he was also a gentleman.  

Time passed.  The two of you kept conversation going.  You both ordered food.  Roman told you what he was wanting done in his penthouse.  You told him it would take time, but you would happily do it.  He wanted a mural on one of the walls.  He told you he would give you a reference photo Monday.  The conversation drifted from the painting.  It was now on you.  He wanted to know everything about you.  He wanted to know your goals and expectations in life.  You never were one to talk about yourself, but Roman made you feel like the most interesting person in the world.  

You both finished your food.  Roman paid for the meal.  You walked outside together.  The car was waiting on the two of you.  “I’ll take you home,” Roman insisted.  You nodded, “Okay.”  You did not want this night to end.  It had been magical.  He opened the door for you again.  You got in and Roman joined you.  You had a smile painted on your face brightly.  

The ride back to your place was more lively than the ride to the restaurant.  You and Roman joked and talked the entire way.  He was so charming.  Roman stepped out of the car and walked you to the steps of your apartment building.  “I’ll see you Monday.  If you ever need a ride, please don’t hesitate to text or call,” he smiled.  “Thank you for this, Roman.  It means a lot to me,” you blushed.  “I had a wonderful time,” Roman smiled.  “Well, I’m gonna go.  Thanks again,” you smiled back at him.  “I can’t wait,” Roman excused himself back to his car.  

~

You had been spending a lot of time with Roman.  You had been at his club every day for the past couple of weeks.  You would show up at the same time every day and he would escort you up to his penthouse.  He offered you a meal every day, but you always ate before.  

He had a spot distinguished for you on the wall to paint.  He had gotten you the nicest supplies to paint with, things you could only afford in your wildest dreams.  He had given you a reference photo to paint by; it was a beautiful sunset over top open water.  You were surprised he was not wanting a portrait of himself.  

He always sat close to you.  He would pull a chair all the way across the room and sit beside you.  He watched you closely.  He admired every movement you made.  The way your hands move effortlessly with the brush in your hand.  He would obviously flirt with you.  Calling you “beautiful” or “doll” a lot.  “You’re magnificent,” he would speak muffled into the back of his hand.  He never failed to put a smile on your face.  

At the time for you to leave each day, Roman would invite you to dinner.  “Won’t you?  It’s on me, promise.  We will go anywhere you want,” Roman would hold your hand loosely in his.  You would sway his arm slightly, smiling a bit embarrassed.  “Sure, Romy.”  That was something you had started calling him.  It was more so a pet name, but you considered it to be a nickname.  How could you deny his offer?  He was being so generous and you adored all the time you spent with him.  

He had become more touchy with you.  Sometimes he would hold your hand at dinner or in the back of his car.  He rarely would place a very small peck onto your cheek, a compliment would follow.  

Once the time came that you were finished you felt a little disappointed.  You did not want your time with Roman to end.  You had taken your sweet time in attempt to prolong your days with him.  You stepped back from the wall.  You admired your work, but could not stop the lump in your stomach.  This was the end.  The end of weeks of cherished time.  Roman walked from the other side of the room.  He wrapped his arms around you from behind.  His chin fell softly onto your shoulder.  “Is it finished?” he whispered.  You nodded.  A quiet “mhmp” fell from your lips.  You bit your lip.  “It’s astonishing,” he placed a prolonged kiss on your cheek.  You smiled, your head falling slightly.  He noticed how your body language was changing.  He took one of your hands in his, “Something wrong, baby?”  You shook your head, “No.  These past weeks have been amazing, Romy... it’s just...”  He stepped to be in front of you, “What is it?”  You looked at him.  You thought about the time you had spent together.  It was the best time of your life.  You smiled at him, “I just can’t believe it’s over.”  His eyebrows furrowed in concern, “You think we’re done spending time together?”

You raised an eyebrow, “We aren’t?”  You had thought that maybe Roman only wanted you around for the painting.  He had other things to do beside have a relationship with some random person.  He was a busy man.  And besides, why would he be with someone who could not help him extend his empire?  You had no estate to give him.  You were an artist, not a upper class woman.  

Roman chuckled slightly, “No, we aren’t.  Do you think I’ve spent this much time with you just to let you leave?  I have fallen for you, Y/N.”  Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment.  How could you have been so stupid?  He cared about you.  “Is that your way of saying you wanna keep me around,” you teased.  He took your hand in his, “It’s my way of saying I love you.”  Your cheeks flooded.  

Love?  He loves you?  

“You what?” you blushed.  “I love you, Y/N,” Roman smiled.  You smiled softly, “I love you, too, Roman.”  Roman pulled you into a hug.  You giggled into his shoulder.  He placed a kiss on your cheek.  You looked at him, placing a soft kiss on his lips.  His eyes widened at you, “Well, that’s new.”  You laughed.  

“We should go to dinner to celebrate,” Roman spun you around, pulling you back into his grip, “What do you say, beautiful?”  You kissed Roman again, “Of course.  You pick this time though.”  Roman smiled widely, “Anything for you.”  

~~~

//Thank you for reading!  If you enjoyed this, maybe consider becoming a part of my taglist!  I am also always open to requests!\\

[TAGS]

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[watchtower-feed]

Losing My Mind (Part 3)

SSA Main ✧ Luthor ✧ 1 ✧ 2 ✧ 3 ✧

   The air moves and both Martian Manhunter and Miss Martian appear beside you.

   You watch Lex’s eyes widen and turn from one alien to another. Once they’ve entered his mind, his eyes start closing. You lean down and whisper, “A courtesy, my soulmate.”

     You stay close to Lex, laying his head on your lap while Miss Martian lies near you, her eyes glowing an effervescent light green and Martian Manhunter holds her hand. You panic when Lex’s brows crease and his eyelids flutter.

     “It’ll be okay,” Martian Manhunater’s deep voice echoes in the near-empty dome of the lab. Everyone had been cuffed and escorted out. It’s just the four of you in the middle and Batman and Green Arrow on the side keeping watch.

     “Miss Martian is the best telepath I know. She won’t hurt him.”

     You purse your lips and your hand on Lex’s shoulder cups around his skin, pulling him a little closer. “How do I know his memories of the links are the only thing you’ll take?”

     Martian Manhunter’s face doesn’t know how to show emotion. So he tips his head to the side. “You came to us for help because you trust us.”

     “No,” you answer in reflex and blush in shame. You turn away from him to look at Lex. You want to say that you asked for their help because they’re the only ones that would help. You couldn’t even count on the Fate sisters so who else was left but the enemies of your soulmate?

     When Miss Martian starts blinking and moving, Martian Manhunter gently helps her situp and the other heroes start walking toward the center. You check on Lex and find his features calm and his breathing even.

     “He’ll be… asleep for a while…” Miss Martian’s voice is ragged. She grunts and takes a long breath before she speaks again. “Batman--” he’s already handing her a piece of paper and pen. She slowly scribbles down a list. After she’s done she hands it to you.

     “We need to destroy all physical evidence that might trigger his memories. Can you please write down any locations that might not be there?”

     “What do you mean they might not be there?” Batman asks.

     Miss Martian frowns, “My powers are strong but some human minds have their own kind of strength. Especially for someone like Luthor. It was like… a filing cabinet?” she turns to Martian Manhunter, unsure, before she looks back at Batman. “Everything was well-organized and easy to find, and all in one place.”

     Batman turns to you, “Like a trap.”

     You glare at him and cower a little closer over Lex.

     “If it is, she’s not involved,” Martian Manhunter interjects and then turns to you, “I’ve read your mind. Batman asked me to.”

     Batman grunts, making Green Arrow smirk.

     “This is Luthor we’re talking about, Batman. He’s probably had this as a contingency plan years ago when my unc-- I mean Martian Manhunter joined the League.”

     Batman turns to you and you wait for another accusation. But he nods toward the list you forgot you’re holding. You look at it and carefully read each location. Safehouses. Lairs. Secret meeting spots. Deposit boxes. Storage containers. You’ve been to most of them but there are some missing. Locations only you would know. You write down the dorms and apartments Lex went to in college, his foster house in Metropolis, and just in case, you write down the location of the Luthor farmhouse.

     “They’re not secret locations but these would be the last places Lex would go to and his enemies would expect the same.” But Lex is smarter than his enemies, you wanted to add. But you still needed their help. You still needed them to make sure Lex forgets everything.

✧ ✧ ✧ 

     You’re standing in front of the big tree on Luthor’s farm and holding the piece of paper with a list. You’re scrunching the paper in your hand. Every location has been crossed off except this one.

     Except for the ones you listed down, every single location had endless records and evidence of Lex’s research on the links. As well as copies and backups of each one.

     But you’re disappointed because there’s not a single written record about you. Not a single file that acknowledged your existence. Your name wasn’t even written down on a loose piece of paper tucked haphazardly between pages or thrown in a trash bin or shredded.

     Lex had erased every single trace of your existence in his life. He had been prepared to lose you completely. No. Get rid of you.

     Flash taps you on the shoulder. “Looks like no one’s been here since the fire took down the farmhouse. Where to next?”

     You keep your back to him but your voice breaks when you answer, “This is the last one.”

     Flash quickly tenses and turns to Batman and Green Arrow for help. It’s Miss Martian who approaches you. “Y/N,” she holds your shoulders and tries to look you in the eye with a half-lidded gaze. “If you want, I could also--”

     You quickly shake your head and bite your lips to keep the tears from falling.

     No. You want to remember. Despite everything-- Despite the man he’s become, you still want him in your memories.

✧ ✧ ✧

     You stayed in Gotham for a couple of weeks, against your will but you were ready to do anything to get Batman off your back. He wanted to keep an eye on you, to make sure this wasn’t all part of an elaborate move against the League.

     While Superman continued to monitor Lex in Metropolis, you weren’t allowed anywhere near the city nor Lex. But you had no desire to be.

     The Lex you saw on the news wasn’t the one you know anymore. He wasn’t the child you grew up with, the teenager you fell in love with, nor the man you devoted your life to. Because that is what you did. Your whole life has revolved around him and now he’s gone.

     Finally, it’s time to start your own life. After Gotham, you move back to Star City to be with your family and be reacquainted with the life you could have had. You suddenly don’t need to keep running and hiding anymore.

   Not even Batman could keep an eye in Star City 24/7. But a month later, Green Arrow stops by your house to check on you. It is his city after all.

     “You can tell Batman I’m still being a good girl and to the League, thank you again for your help.”

     Green Arrow laughs. “I’m not here because Batman told me to.”

     You raise your eyebrow and try to suppress the smirk playing on your lips, “So you heroes just do monthly checkups on every citizen you’ve saved--”

     “--and worked with,” he finishes with a gleaming smile. While Batman had intimidation going for him, Green Arrow uses his charms to lower his enemy’s guard. Lex didn’t particularly applaud the cunning in it. But he did make note of it.

     So you keep your mouth closed but give him a small smile. Both of you wait a while.

     When the silence suddenly gets too awkward, Green Arrow coughs, “Well I should get going then-- Oh!” he fishes out an envelope from inside his jacket and hands it to you.

     It’s an invitation to Oliver Queen’s mayoral campaign tomorrow night at the Star City Plaza Hotel.

     “He’s one of the good guys.”

     You’re too baffled by the sudden situation that you keep staring at the invitation. “Well if he has the League backing him, he can’t lose,” you say mindlessly.

     “Actually,” Green Arrow chuckles. “It’s just me… on the down-low.” Of course. If vigilantes started publicly endorsing politicians, they’d lose the people. You nod.

     It takes you the whole day to decide whether or not you should go. There are still so many things you had to do to get your new life started. But that also meant that you aren’t particularly busy. Suddenly not having a life’s mission is enough to make you go to a mayoral campaign of all things.

     It’s actually not so bad. Good guy or not, Oliver Queen knows how to throw parties for his people. His people being the upper class. You see a few big names show up, all smiling for the camera while they shake hands with the new potential mayor of Star City. All for show.

     You find yourself spending most of the night at a table near the stairs, deflecting conversations of who you are, and who they are. Is this the life Lex wanted? To be among these kinds of people?

     No, he wouldn’t. He cares less for these social gatherings than politics itself. You snicker silently as you think about how Lex would show up only if he had to be on stage and then leave the rest of the night to his secretary.

     You’re picturing this in your head that you almost don’t get surprised to see him across the room shaking hands with a stiff Oliver Queen. But then you remember you’re no longer linked and he’s no longer your soulmate. So why is he suddenly here?

     He catches you staring at him. You watch him turn back to Oliver Queen and mindlessly excuses himself but the mayoral candidate holds Lex’s hand in his grip and seems unwilling to let his company go.

     You quickly take this opportunity to slip away and blend into a small crowd headed down the stairs toward the lobby. You wait until they reach the bottom steps before you break off toward a deserted hallway. You lean against the wall and try to catch your breath. If written words on a piece paper could potentially unravel everything Miss Martian erased, then you had to get out of here.

     “Leaving so soon?”

     It’s as if destiny still has strings on you.

     You turn around. Slowly. You try to smile. You try to keep your feet planted on the floor and your hands behind you. “Not really my scene.” 

     Lex raises his eyebrow and places his hands in his pockets. “So you’re here for work then. Star City Sentinel?” he asks, “or Gotham Gazette?”

     He thinks you’re a reporter but that’s not right. He’s not one to seek reporters. He runs away from them. 

     “Uhh, no,” you answer. “I’m-- filling in for a friend.”

     “A friend, huh?” He raises his eyebrows in amusement.  “Anyone, I know?”

     You suddenly don’t like this. You don’t know what this Luthor is thinking. You narrow your eyes at him and push yourself off the wall, about to walk off. “Probably not. I don’t even know who you are.”

     He laughs, “Really, Y/N?” It makes you stop. “Was that the best you’ve got? Everyone on this planet with access to TV and the internet knows who I am. I thought you might have been able to play this little game a while longer.”

     You turn to him then, standing too close and within his reach. Your eyes are wide and he stares back at you with a calm exterior.

     "Did you really think it would be so easy?"

     You couldn’t move. Your words come out like a whisper with only disbelief pushing them out. "H-how?" 

     He hums. "You're not the only one who's employed a mindreader.”

     His hand reaches out to hold yours. He turns it around in his hold, seeing and feeling your skin touching his. Then he squeezes it. He points his head to the exit and you follow him while he brushes his thumb on the back of your hand. At this point, you’ll follow him to the ends of the earth.

     You almost hear Oliver Queen yelling after you as you get in the passenger seat of the town car. Almost.

     Lex drives and there’s only silence inside. Your hands are on your lap and they’re shaking. Now that you’ve had time to think, you don’t know what to think. “Lex,” you mutter, “Please. Explain what’s happening.” You slowly turn to him but he keeps his eyes on the road. “If you remember, then why-- why aren’t you angry?”

     Lex finally turns to you. He can’t help the smirk that lifts the corners of his lips and the mischief curling his eyebrows down. “Aren’t I?”

     You don’t reply to him. Your eyes hold his gaze until the playfulness finally disappears from his features. He briefly closes his eyes and sighs.

     “I knew our memories would be erased once we meet,” he starts and you hold your breath, “And when I succeed in taking control of the memory link, any lingering feelings would've been obliterated as well.”

     Your lips quiver as you listen and your words come out a whisper, “Isn’t that what you wanted--”

     “But I found,” he interrupts, “Over the years, I found that there was one memory I couldn’t forget."

     Your eyes widen because it suddenly feels as if time had stopped. 

     "Which... which one?"

     He suddenly smiles sheepishly and his voice goes lower, "The ceasefire."

     You remember it so clearly. The rarest of days when Lex suddenly appeared in front of you, distraught, angry, annoyed, and just as surprised to see you as he was to find himself under a big tree, on a hill, in an orchard in Florence.

     "Where am I?"

     At first, you pondered about ignoring him but then you realized that would make him harder to tolerate and you don’t know how long he’s going to be staying.

     "Italy," you answered nonchalantly.

     He whipped his head around, as if not taking your word for it. Then he turned to you and raised one of his eyebrows, "What are you--"

     "I needed a break,” you interrupted. You stretched your arms and then sat down on the blanket you had just laid before Lex arrived. “I found out a while ago that immersing myself in a familiar environment keeps me from wandering into your memories."

     This happened during the third year of your decades-long game of cat and mouse. You were still testing out the possibilities and limitations of the links. But Lex, at the time, was still rejecting it completely.

     You watched him close his eyes and you can tell he was willing himself to disappear. But to no success. "Ugh!"

     You snickered. "You look like you could use a break, too. Tough day at the evil lair?" you teased but he doesn’t turn to you. He rubbed his palms down his face in aggravation. You rolled your eyes at him, "Since you're stuck here, we might as well be civil."

     "You could walk away," he snapped at you with a fake smile.

     "No way! I was here first!” You sounded like a child and Lex almost laughed. Instead, he managed to contain it to a small smirk but it was enough to embarrass you. “Whatever,” you grumbled and leaned back with your arms supporting you. “I'm not leaving this spot."

     Lex scowled and rolled his eyes. He tried to look for the nearest town or guesthouse. But there were only acres of trees on the horizon. He grimaced because it reminded him of the farm. "What's so special about it?"

     You were surprised to hear his questions. Was he actually trying to be civil? You tried your best not to sneak a look at him and kept your gaze up.

     "It's nice to see the light trying to pass through the leaves. When the wind comes, the leaves and branches rustle so the specs of light look like they're dancing."

     Lex was looking at you while you talked and he saw them dance on the contours of your face, making you smile. Again, it reminded him of the farm.

     He finally sighed and unbuttoned his suit jacket. He draped it over your shoulders and then lied down on the blanket with his head resting on your lap. He felt you tense up.

     "I need a break,” he declared with his eyes closed.

     Slowly, your body relaxed and you sat up so your fingers could run through his hair.

     "Is this an intermission?" you tease softly.

     "Hmm,” he frowns. “Call it a ceasefire. Your vocabulary hasn't gotten any better. You must be wasting your time in college instead of studying."

     You glared at him. But then you saw the small smirk that played on his lips and it reminds you of his room in Metropolis. 

     You leaned down to hover above his head. Your shadow forced him to open his eyes and look at you.

     "I miss you, Lex."

     A strong gust of wind swayed the leaves to reach for the sky, and the light was dancing wildly behind your head. Without thinking, Lex's hand reached up to pull you down for your lips to be reunited.

     The two of you have been quiet for a long time. You’ve been wringing your wrist with your fingers trying to figure what to say next. But Lex knows it has to be him that speaks first.

     “I believed destiny made a mistake linking you to me.”

     It’s not what you expect and your heart hurts a little to hear it. But you’ve always known that.

     “Then,” he pauses. His mouth closes and opens a few times before he could finally continue. “You proved me wrong.”

     Your hands stop.

     “While I cowered away and tried to ignore our link--”

     You look at him to make sure he’s not lying to you. 

     Lex is staring straight at the road but there’s a hint of excitement in his eyes. “You adapted!” he said proudly, almost breathless. “You lived in my memories for days at a time and fit into the background as if you were actually there.”

     He turns to you suddenly, eyes wide and mouth grinning, “For god’s sakes, Y/N, you found out Batman’s link and planted the information in my head, making me believe I was the one who discovered it.” He scoffs, “And then had me ask Scarecrow create a fear toxin that only worked in his dreams. Tell me-- Why?”

     His excitement is contagious. You found yourself leaning a little closer and wanting to tell him everything. “I knew it would make his soulmate visit the black market for blockers. I needed her to get the League’s help.” He laughs. “How-- how did you know I planted the information?”

     “I found out when we finally met. When the link cleared my head of memories of you.”

     Your own excitement takes a sudden dip. What you did was wrong. You knew it was before you even started it. But Lex had been making more progress in his plans and you were still figuring out how to get the League to trust you.

     It was pure coincidence that you found Batman’s link as if destiny has been pushing you down this road the whole time. It was your roommate’s sister. She visited and you overheard them talking about the links. She was talking about her neighbor in Central City who had the strangest sleeping schedule and often called out Bruce Wayne’s name in her sleep. “Imagine having a subconscious link with Bruce Wayne? I’d die every night catching him with a different supermodel in a wet dream.”

     You knew who Bruce Wayne was. Having existed in Lex’s memories, you knew the identity of every single hero and villain, even in other galaxies. Truly, something was helping you pave the path to your success.

     Lex reaches out to hold your hand, stealing you from your thoughts. His voice comes softer now but you could still hear the mirth in it, “You uncovered my plans and used it against me. Erasing my memories and planting fake ones about a happy childhood where my parents lived until I finished college-- Only you would've come up with something twisted and wrapped it in a bow.”

     You suddenly have the urge to pull your hand back. Instead, you pinch him. He flinches but keeps smiling.

     "I was impressed. The things you could do. The lengths you went through--"

     "For you," you answer in a whisper. You squeeze his hand and you speak a little louder. "It was all for you."

     His smile softens and there’s no longer excitement or mirth there. Just affection. "Yes. For me."

     He lifts your hand to his lips and kisses it. "Forgive me, Y/N. Perhaps destiny has truly blessed me."

END.

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✧ Watchtower Masterlist ✧

#lex luthor #lex lutho/reader #lex luthor x reader #soulmate au #ssa #superhero soulmate au #DC fanfiction #lex luthor fanfiction #DC imagines #watchtower-feed #atbucud

[batmanie]

All work - Riddler x reader/you

Some men like to bring their work home, Edward Nigma goes a step further, he brings his work into his bed. Cocking your head, you watch him leaning comfortably against a pile of black and green pillows, with his laptop resting on the top of him. Tap, tap tap – his fingers dance across the keyboard, you can see another line of program, a combination of small, green letters and numbers appear on his computer screen. You don't understand a thing and you don't even try to ask. Knowing Riddler, he's working on something malicious – something not meant for you but for Batman. This thought gives you a thrill, being here with him, watching his new, deadly idea coming to life in the quiet refuge of the bedroom – it sure is exciting, you can't deny it. Quirky as he can be, Edward is still the sharpest man you've ever met in your entire life. You lick your lips, and oh, you're in the mood now but he won't pay you any attention when he's busy working. Your hand travels lazily along the curve of your hip as if you didn't know how smooth your exposed skin is. Not much is covering your body at the moment, just your old panties, and the green T-shirt he gave you – not without some complaints about how unhygienic it is to borrow someone's clothes. Any other man would most likely prefer to ogle you instead of staring at the computer screen. Not him. And it's frustrating, and at the same time, it only makes you want him more. He doesn't even notice as you shift your position to get your body lower on the bed. “And what do you think you're doing?” He only reacts when he feels your hand touching his knee. “Don't mind me, sweetie,” you make it sound innocent but your unruly hands are already climbing up from his knee to his thigh, your palms caressing his pale, paper-thin skin. You catch a glimpse of suspicion on his face, it is as if he doesn't trust you. Well, he might be right not to trust you because you didn't even start yet, which he soon finds out as your right hand presses lightly against the fabric of his navy blue boxers.

He immediately reaches to stop you right there. “No-no, my dear, we don't have the time for that now. Also, is that how you think a lady behaves?” He scolds you lightheartedly and there is a hint of cheerfulness in his soft, boyish voice. “Who says I'm one?” You grin at him. He holds your hand with his, his touch so warm and nice. “I do, ma chérie,” he says with a tone that knows no objections. It makes you blush a little, he can be so damn charming when he wants to. His French accent, his confidence, you're falling for this smooth-talker all over again. He almost makes you forget that he really is a selfish, arrogant man-child. He reminds you of that fact as he opens his mouth again. “I'm not some mobster, or a low-class criminal, you know. I'm the Riddler – Gotham's greatest super-villain and Batman's true archenemy. I want a woman with class around me.” So much for his charm, you muse, but oh, you will show him some class... “Forgive me, Mr. Riddler, I thought a super-villain of your rank can easily take some teasing while still working on his master plan. For a mind like yours, a little distraction shouldn't be a problem, right?” “Are you challenging me?” He raises an eyebrow, probably not believing how impertinent you have become those days. Yet, he lets go of your hand, giving you a chance to stroke the side of his thigh with your fingertips. “I'm no challenge for you,” you lower your eyes submissively, moving your flushed cheek closer to his leg, making him feel your heat. You place a gentle kiss on his warm, delicate skin, lips brushing lovingly against a softness of his inner thigh. You can hear him stop typing, and it is not what you wanted “Keep working, Eddie,” you command him softly, your hot breath tickling his bare skin. “I don't want to distract my favorite genius. I'll do my thing, and you do yours.” “I am the only REAL genius in this town,” he tries to correct you but he's cut off by the sensation of your tongue on his lower body, dangerously close to his private parts poorly covered by thin fabric. “Yes, you are...” you let out a murmur, doing your best to hide your amusement. “I don't hear you typing, Mr. Genius,” you point out, waiting for him to concentrate on his task again. He does, and you give him a little break before your eager fingers are on him once more. Carefully, you slide one of your fingernails across the bulge in his boxers, making your touch last for only a split second. Then, you repeat the treatment and observing with joy, how he's getting harder with your every stroke. He thinks you're his play thing, and maybe you are but why not to play with him in return? You cast him an inquiring glance, he's looking at the screen but you can see his cheeks getting redder with anticipation. “Do you want to bet which one of us will finish first?” He seemed surprised, his eyes on you once more. “Hm? What are you suggesting?” “If you can complete your project, you win. But...” You shoot him your best, sexy smile. “If I finish you off first, the victory is mine.” He chuckles under his breath, genuinely amused. “Silly minx, either way I win.” “So, I take it for your agreement then.” You let your tongue run across your upper lip suggestively. “But if I win, you're buying me that red mustang I've always wanted.” “We have a deal, my love. Not like you stand the chance, of course.” He's radiating self-confidence and it turns you on. “But if you somehow, by some stroke of luck, manage to succeed, keep in mind that the mustang will be green, since I'd be the one paying for it.”

#first time writing x reader! #should i continue? #riddler #x reader #riddler x you #riddler x reader #fanfiction #edward nigma #smutty #My Story #temarcia

[kasieli]

Fights and Flights: What Happens Undercover, Stays Undercover Chapter 8

A/N: Hey, guys, it’s finally here. I figured since some websites don’t entirely work for everyone, I’d just post a text version here, too. Links for the ff.net and wattpad are listed at the end! Also, I may or may not have a small comic that goes along with this ;) Anyways, please enjoy!

---

"You think that just because you're the son of Bruce Wayne, that you can get away with anything." This varsity-jacket-wearing dumbo in front of them was practically fuming. "Well, you're Gotham's little princess after all, aren't you?" He added with a sarcastic smirk as he took one heated stomp closer and closer and closer towards a placid Damian. "Did you know, Damian Wayne," he spat, "I was the hotshot around here before you showed up?" He cracked his neck, rolling it with a wicked smile. "I'd rather keep it that way."

Raven exhaled slowly as her eyes darted around the hallway. Azar, it seemed like all of Gotham Academy was watching. How did Damian's mere action of bumping into this hotshot get him into this predicament? Undercover her ass. This was Damian Wayne! If he tripped over and broke his nose on the sidewalk (not that he would, ever) it would be all over the Gotham Academy newspaper! Of course he would bring attention to any and everything he did — especially running into this sleazebag jock.

Jeez, she knew it wasn't on purpose either but she knew Damian, and she knew (as a solid fact, she might add) that he was entirely enjoying this soon-to-be sprawl.

And as predicted, when her eyes shot over to Damian, while he wore an overall composure of calmness, there it was, right on that smug face of his.

Damian's signature remark — the first thing she noticed when they battled together. That stupid thing she hated to admit that she...kind of liked.

His signature defiant smirk.

Azar.

"Please," Damian purred, his voice low and husky and so...nevermind, "enlighten me as to how you plan to do that."

He sauntered slowly, lips pursed into a tight line, bright eyes aflame, eyebrow quirked, neck bared, and anger vein exposed. How could someone possibly be dumb enough to pick a fight with Damian? The Bruce Wayne's son? And even as just Damian he was a type A "I'll kick your ass if you speak to me" type of person, let alone the separate brat entity that was Robin.

She wished that she was next to him like in battle, ready to beat up this asshole in front of her, but in the rush of the spectacle, she was shoved into the audience. Just a mere spectator — like the rest of the students. Basically...all the students. The next class had already started too, but apparently no one could resist the urge of watching the battle of Mr. Hotshot versus Damian Wayne. She swore even some professors were there watching, too.

Damn, she didn't want to be just a spectator, though.

She wasn't just a classmate to him.

But here...apparently she was...or had to be. Isn't that what she just told him not even five minutes ago, anyways?

"Do you really want to know, princess?" Mr. Hotshot cooed. There were a few snickers from the crowd. Probably from the other jocks.

They were maybe only a few bodies apart now, and she could see Mr. Hotshot's fist clenching, let alone feel the anger that was seething from his body.

Oh, no.

Damian shrugged nonchalantly, his eyebrow quirked. "Why not?"

Oh, hell.

The jock struck, his fist plummeting through the air.

"What?" He sneered as some "oooohs" were emitted from the crowd.

Her hands were sweating. Why were her hands sweating? She knew this guy was no match for Damian and yet...

"I think you missed," Damian said on a deadpan. There was some more laughter from the crowd.

Of course he dodged it. If only they knew exactly what the boy in front of them was capable of.

Mr. Hotshot sighed forcefully, his upper lip quivering. "Why you little —"

He lunged at Damian. If she hadn't known him she would have thought the delicate frame of his was no match for the beefy, bulky jock. Of course Damian was muscular in his own way, but not like this guy -- this guy looked like a horse. She almost snickered at the thought, but then after another miss from the jock she saw Damian's fist clench and -- this wasn't going to be good.

"Stop!"

Before a single thought flashed in her mind, she found herself in between Damian and the jock with a stern stare and a heavy breath.

"Rae, don't," Damian grunted under his breath. His nostril flared ever so slightly and she could tell that while seconds ago he was just mildly irritated, now he was fuming. Of course that change in his expression was so minute that only she would probably notice it, but there was also surprise scribbled in his eyes and as she glanced over at the jock, she was damn sure he noticed it, too.

God, the response was so natural to her, like an instinct. Now she got herself riddled in this goddamn mess which was probably why Damian turned from playful to serious in the fraction of a second. She looked around her at the appalled and excited faces surrounding them, just a sea of anonymous amused spectators, and she felt so...exposed. Why? She was used to this.

"Oh ho ho, what do we have here?" The jock's voice turned low and gruff as he sauntered towards them. His eyes were no longer focused on Damian but rather glued onto...her. What?

"What a precious little girl protecting her precious little princess."

She felt Damian stiffen beside her. He was growing angrier by the second, she didn't even have to look at him to know.

By this point the jock was a mere foot away from her, towering over her with a lopsided smile. The small thought of how Damian's lopsided smile was far far far more charming washed over her. In this guy's defense, there was no warmness in his smile, more like contempt, or eagerness...slyness, anger, even. His eyes darkened as he leaned in...his face was so close. Her breath hitched in her throat.

"Hmm," he hummed. "You smell good." He licked at his lips. "Lavender, is it?"

He breathed in so very close to her ear and for some reason she couldn't move. Her body was so tense. She felt so stiff. Goddamnit, she was submitted into more intense situations than this, and yet...

"You stay the fuck away from her."

Her emphatic shields were up, she knew it. After all, she couldn't last an hour feeling everyone's crushes and teenage-hormone-inflicted emotions in Gotham Academy. Her shields were up, but yet she felt Damian's anger seething, biting into her shields, so powerful it was almost...painful.

"And if I don't?" This time she felt one of the jock's strong, rough hands push some hair, tucking it behind her ear. That's what Damian would do...

A smirk worked its way across his face. "Hey, gorgeous, what do you say, would you like to go to prom with me?"

...What? Prom?

Oh, prom.

She can't believe she forgot. Prom! The spectacle of the senior class. Where girls would gush over their prom dates, hoping to be asked in a romantic way. Although, she wouldn't be surprised if half of the senior class was trying to gather the courage to ask Damian. Damian...she didn't want to go to prom with this jerk in front of her.

By the second she just felt Damian's anger grow hotter and hotter. Her mouth opened slightly, but for the life of her, she couldn't get words out. Part of her was so stunned that he would even dare to make an offer, even though she was sure it was only to get under Damian's skin, but what really shocked her was that...it was working. Damian was angry. It was making him the sort of angry he felt when Batman would deny him a mission. How...Why...? What about asking her to prom would make him so...furious?

Beside her, she felt Damian shift, and not before long his strapping frame was right next to her and his hand was on the jock and suddenly, with a forceful shove, he propelled the jock back a few feet. He was really, really, really angry. Damian was scary when he was this angry.

As the jock sputtered to a stop, the surprise in his face slowly faded as it was replaced with a furrowed brow and a quivering lip.

"I said stay the fuck away from her," Damian repeated, his voice strained as if he was biting back a growl. This time, it was his turn to saunter towards the jock. He seized a hefty chunk of his Gotham Academy varsity jacket and pulled him in. "Don't touch her ever again." In one swift movement, he threw the jock to the floor. "And just so you know," he added sharply, "she's going to prom with me."

What?

There were many gasps from the crowd and probably many more students with broken dreams of going to prom with the dreamy son of Bruce Wayne.

Prom? With him? What the heck? He didn't ever mention this to her!

"Okay, okay, the spectacle is over!" A professor shouted as he was shoving his way past the sea of students, "get back to class!"

With many grunts and sighs, the crowd started fizzling out.

"Shoo, shoo, come on now, you're all late for class."

He turned to them as he said in a stiff voice. "Wyatt (so that was the jock's name!), please make your way to the principal's office. Damian, come with me."

She opened her mouth to say something, but in the time it took her to do so, Damian turned away from her without saying a word, heck, not even giving her a glance, like "screw this guy". Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. As she watched him slip away, she squeezed out a sigh through gritted teeth.

What did she do wrong?

She groaned, turning away. As scared as she was to do so she needed to find out. It was going to eat her alive if she didn't.

"Azar," she grunted, heading towards her calculus class. How could she concentrate with Damian being furious at her -- ugh -- she had to admit it, she absolutely knew she couldn't. She even had an exam, let alone the fact that she wasn't able to finish her homework.

She shook her head and rolled her eyes. Waiting for him to get out detention (because, he was most certainly going to have detention) was going to be awful.

She sighed.

Could her day get any worse?

—

She timed it perfectly. Almost perfectly to the point that she knocked into him as he strode out the principal's door. Any more perfect and they would have collided head first.

"Damian," she gasped in a surprise. Why was she surprised? She expected to meet him here, she knew she would. But her heart -- it was beating so fast.

"Roth," he acknowledged. To her dismay, he was looking straight ahead like before and didn't even glance her way.

Her eyebrows furrowed. Roth? She felt...offended almost. He hadn't called her that in a long time...basically since they met. Shaking it off, she stated sternly, "we need to talk."

To be honest, she didn't expect him to agree -- he wasn't entirely the type of person to take the phrase 'we need to talk' lightly. He wasn't exactly the best at taking confrontations. To her surprise, Damian didn't even flinch but granted he didn't leave, either, so she took that as a reluctant yes.

Good. Even though she didn't even know what in Azar's name she was going to say to him.

She led him to the rooftop in what seemed to be the most excruciating five minutes of her life (Why was Gotham Academy so large?). He said no word, he didn't even look at her once. He made absolutely no sound, it didn't even sound like he breathed. She even had to check if he was still with her, making sure he didn't slip away from her in the silence. In retrospect, those five minutes would have been the perfect time for her to figure out what the hell she was going to say to him, but in reality she couldn't concentrate because her heart was pounding so adamantly against her ears.

When they finally reached the roof, she shut door behind her as the cold air began to bite at her cheeks. It was winter now, and there was a slight blanket of snow covering the city. She cursed silently as she realized she wasn't entirely prepared for their venture out into the cold as her scarf and coat were tucked away in her locker, but honestly there were more important things she had to attend to first.

"We're alone...there's no one here."

She sighed heavily, turning to Damian. He was still looking ahead but seemingly watching the skyline now. His expression turned slightly softer, anyways.

"What, Damian?"

His jaw tensed.

"Damian."

Still nothing.

"What?"

"Nothing is wrong," he finally muttered.

"You called me Roth, stop the bull crap."

A soft siren sang beneath them amidst the subtle breeze, and Raven couldn't help but notice how...beautiful he looked in this very moment. His eyes looked so incredible when the light hit them like that and —

He finally turned to her, a little too quickly might she add. While he seemed tense just moments before, his overall aura was rather stoic, but now...now, it was undoubtedly not stoic. She hated to admit it, but she'd rather it have stayed apathetic, as excruciating as it was. As she looked at him, she sensed anger pouring from his eyes. Yes, his eyes were gorgeous, but anger made them piercing to the point it was almost frightening.

His nostrils flared. Oh, no.

"You're so stupid," he hissed through gritted teeth. "Is this what you wanted? Loads of attention? Well congratulations, because you undeniably just landed us on the front page of Gotham Academy newspaper."

What? What? She was flabbergasted. Just moments before he was so silent, and now he just exploded on her? Then again, it wasn't unlike Damian to do so, but still...he never really did so with her.

She stilled.

That's right, he never exploded at her. Dick, maybe, Beast Boy, definitely, but with her, his explosions were rather mild, not earth shattering like theirs.

"What? Wait..." she sputtered.

But...he just did so. Did that mean...what...why? She tried to form a reply in her mind, but nothing semblance of a sentence came to her, so she scoffed as her mouth hung open, probably looking as floored as she felt.

"I..."

She could have just let anger win. Anger was a good emotion in times like these.

"You..."

Still nothing.

Anger it was, then.

"You're blaming this on me?" she spat, finally. "If your pride could just disappear...just...for one second maybe you wouldn't have gotten yourself into this fight in the first place!"

God, that felt good.

"You could have said 'sorry' and scurried along your merry way," she continued. Oh, she wasn't going to stop now, not now since he was pointing the finger at her. "But noooooooo that's not how Damian Wayne operates, now is it?"

He flinched.

"Raven, just..." He pinched his nose bridge, shaking his head. "You should have let me handle it, not get yourself involved," he countered.

"I was trying to make sure you didn't land your butt in detention! And this is the thanks I get?" she scoffed, shaking her head. "You are so unbelievable sometimes."

"Tt." He shook his head, rolling his eyes.

Oh, he was rolling his eyes at her?

"What is your problem, Damian?"

"I'll answer that when you tell me why you lied to me."

She stilled, and she felt her heart reach an utter stop. What? What the heck was all this nonsense? First blaming her for the fight, now accusing her of lying to him? She tried to piece everything together but it was too much, it was too puzzling, her mind felt like it was spinning. She was so dizzy. Lying to him? When? How?

"I...don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes, you do." He turned to her, giving her a blank stare as if to reiterate his previous point, as if to pry the answer out of her, and it probably would have worked except for the fact that she was honestly floored. What lie could she have told him in the past few minutes? About the fight? She didn't think the fight was her fault. It wasn't her fault whatsoever.

She shook her head. "I don't understand."

Chuckling softly and rolling his eyes again he turned to the skyline. "And you say I'm difficult," he muttered under his breath.

"I'm not trying to be difficult!" she protested. "I've told you before, I'm an empath, not a mind reader. Must I remind you what that means?"

"No, Raven, I know what it means," he snapped with a mocking tone.

God, he was being difficult right now --how could he accuse her of such?

"Okay, then, stop acting as if I know exactly what you're talking about."

He paused, shook his head, then hissed out a sigh. Turning to her, he brought his bottom lip between his teeth, and in a less stressful moment, she would have marveled at how hot it was.

"You don't really care about the Gotham Academy newspaper, do you?"

What? What was he getting at? For Azar's sake she was getting so sick of this emotional roller coaster he was putting her through. First the fight, then lying to him, now the newspaper?

"...What?"

"Being on the front page, dead center, talking about us. You don't really care about it."

"What?"

She couldn't even count how many times she said 'what?' at this point, let alone differentiate when she merely thought it or said it out loud.

"That's absurd," she scoffed, "of course I do. The whole mission —"

"The whole mission thing, I get it," he interjected curtly. "You and I both know that it doesn't actually matter that we're together a lot. In fact, it's actually what would speed this process up exponentially."

"But Bruce..." she whispered.

Damian chuckled again.

"Father isn't stupid. He knows teenagers, and he knows that telling us to not do something would, in fact, encourage us to do it."

He wasn't wrong...especially knowing Damian, that was something he always did. But, even so...

Her eyebrows furrowed. "That's crazy."

"No, it's not," he stated on a deadpan. "He could have just sent me. Or you. Or Beast Boy for all that matters. Why us? Why us together?"

Her eyebrows kept furrowing to the point that she was sure they were touching now. "...Do you expect me to have the answer to that?"

He looked at her with one of his blank stares again, then clicked his tongue.

"Because he knew we couldn't help but become close at the Academy." He paused. "Admit it, Raven. I'm the closest one on the team to you."

Okay, he was right, but she wasn't going to tell him that.

"Oh, don't be so cocky," she mused instead.

"I'm not," he said, his voice sounding a little tight. "We share a similar past. It's only natural that we've become close."

He kept being right about everything, and it was really starting to piss her off.

"Whatever."

"It was intentional from the start. Deep down I'm sure you knew it, too."

He paused again and shot her a glance that looked almost... hurt.

"So...you lied to me. Why?"

How many times was she going to shake her head in disbelief throughout this conversation? "I don't—"

"There's no Gotham Academy newspaper within Wayne manor, Raven," he scoffed. "You think I didn't notice that you were ignoring me there, too? Being on the cover of the newspaper, that's bull shit. I just told the whole Academy that you were going to prom with me, and you haven't mentioned that once."

Shit, he was right. God, why did he keep being right? Everything was happening so fast, so fast, so many things were happening...she had forgotten all about that. She fisted the hem of her skirt as she looked up at him too sheepishly for her liking.

"I was going to..." she whispered.

But...she didn't, even though she had every opportunity to before when they were arguing about who started the fight, hell, he even mentioned the newspaper, but she couldn't dispute the undeniable fact that she didn't bring it up once since he proudly announced it to the crowd.

She opened her mouth to say something, but a heavy sigh from Damian stopped her immediately.

"You're afraid of me, Raven."

Afraid?

"No, I..."

Wait...wait...she was.

Part of her knew that, but she was in so much denial that she had almost believed she wasn't. She was afraid of him. Well, maybe not of him, but she was afraid of the way he felt about her, afraid of the way she felt about him. Afraid of what could have happened, what couldn't have happened. Afraid of that Saturday when they could have...kissed.

"I..."

"You're a bad liar, do you know that?" he stated, smirking a little. "Your fingers always fidget when you lie. You especially like to twist your hair or play with the hem of your skirt. You purse your lips a little more but your eyebrows become less expressive. You—"

"Okay, okay! I get it!" she spat.

God, why did he keep being right?

Plus, he kept putting her on the spot when he knew she hated it. Why wouldn't he just shut up?

"I guess...spending time at the Academy and at the manor and...just...all this time..."

He was looking with her with curious yet stern eyes and part of her had to keep pushing away the thought that a small strand of his hair was unkempt due to the breeze and how attractive he looked in this moment.

"Remember, I can tell when you're lying."

She clicked her tongue. "Give it a rest, would you?" she huffed.

At this point she wanted to squeeze his throat or cover his mouth with...anything...anything to just make him shut up. But as the seconds ticked away, the more she believed her hypothesis to be true. He was doing this on purpose. He wanted to make her angry. And it was working. He took some pointers from that jock earlier, didn't he? Like that jock, he knew exactly which buttons to press to get on her nerves. Why was he doing this to her? It was all getting too much. The newspaper, prom, the fight, the fact that they could have kissed, his goddamn strand of hair that she wanted to push out of his pretty face. Azar, she just wanted this all to end.

"Fine," she grunted, waving him off. She felt a blush flare across her cheeks, but at this point, she didn't even care to hide it. "Maybe I've...enjoyed this...experience. Maybe I don't want to be exposed because I know that'll mean this mission will come to an end..."

She really hoped that answer was sufficient enough. Taking him to the rooftop was to confront him, but it was only turning out to be him confronting her, and she couldn't take it much longer.

"Sure, me too."

She stilled, her breath catching in her throat.

Him, too?

Wait...did she hear that correctly? Him, too? She was so focused on getting him to shut his mouth that it didn't entirely register in her mind what she just said. She just admitted to him that she liked spending time with him...and he agreed. He felt the same way. About what, though? Enjoying his time here, with her, or not wanting the mission to end. Or both?

"And...?" Damian prodded.

"...And what?"

He let out a soft chuckle but there was no humour in it.

"There's something you're not telling me."

She was really starting to get sick of him expecting to know what he was getting at, and him being right about practically everything, and him just prodding her relentlessly.

"What?"

"Listen, we're both enjoying our time here, that's obvious," he said, his cheeks turning red, but before she could really see it, he quickly turned his head away. "But why would you lie to me and make up an excuse about the newspaper? You keep avoiding my question, Raven. Why were you ignoring me?"

Oh.

Oh, that.

She couldn't even relish in the fact that Damian was blushing before she felt like someone had thrown her into a brick wall. Her mind felt fuzzy but oddly clear. Thoughts were rushing through her head but one loud one stood out amidst the rest. She didn't want to focus on it, but it was screaming at her, screaming at her so loudly...she wanted it to shut up, she wanted him to shut up, she just wanted to hide, she just wanted this to end.

She wasn't going to tell him she liked him. Hell, no.

"There's...nothing more I want to say," she murmured.

But why wouldn't he just give up? She was visibly distraught, she knew Damian could tell, but why did he keep pushing her? What did he want from her?

His voice turned into its agonizing know-it-all tone again. "I can tell when you're lying. Tell me, Raven."

Her mind kept reeling. Why wouldn't he let this go?

"What do you want from me? What more do you want me to say? I just...stop, please."

God, at this point she was practically begging. And she never begged.

"I'm not going to stop until you tell me why you've been ignoring me."

Exhaling sharply, she ran her hands through her hair, "I just...I'm gonna go."

There she was, running away from him. Again, and again, and again. If she could just confess she could end this all, but she was so stubborn and so scared. She wanted him to like her back, why couldn't she just admit that to herself? And if he didn't, it wasn't like the world would crash around her, at least she could tell him, at least she would be brave enough to, instead of running away, like everything else in her life.

But her fear always won.

She turned around to head back to the door but --

He grabbed her wrist and spun her around so forcefully that she knocked into him and had to steady herself by clutching his chest. Part of her wanted to let go so she could run away, but her knees felt so weak, too, she felt like she would turn into a puddle if she let him go.

"No, Raven, you're not running away from me this time."

"Please, just stop," she pleaded, shaking her head.

"Raven..."

"I said I don't want to answer you, okay? Just let it go, just let me go. You can't have the answer for everything. The world doesn't work that way."

At this point, she felt tears welling in her eyes. Why was Damian being so cruel?

He paused, looking away. His jaw clenched, and he slowly turned his eyes up, but when they met hers, she saw something different in his eyes. Something she never saw before except for the small spark that appeared for the fraction of a second on that Saturday. It demanded her to stay put, no matter how much she wanted to run away. How could he do that with just one look?

"You...like me, don't you?"

He tore his eyes away again, but he couldn't hide the fact that his cheeks turned bright red. Not this time.

What?...

What was happening? If she thought she was dizzy before, it wasn't even remotely close to the way she felt now. She was never in a centrifuge, but she was sure that it would feel exactly like this. Her breathing was hard and heavy, like there was a force pushing on her chest, and it was making breathing become exhausting.

What...How...what did he mean by that...

"Of course I like you...you're my friend," she stuttered.

There she was, still running away.

He bit his lip again and -- please, just make it stop.

"No, not like that," he exhaled slowly. "Like more than just a friend."

She was so confused, was he the real empath here? How could he just read her thoughts like that? Was she really that transparent? There were so many thoughts running through her mind, but he didn't let her process any of it.

He sighed and relaxed his grip on her shoulders. She didn't even realize he was holding her. Damn it, her heart, she wanted it to slow down. But it just kept on beating faster and faster.

"I'm sorry for pushing you, Raven, I just..I don't want us to run away from it."

Us?...

What did he mean 'us'?

"What...What do you mean?" she gulped.

Really, what was happening?

"Come here," he whispered softly.

It was so silent that she could have missed it, but she was also staring at his lips and they mimicked his words. They looked so soft...

His grip tightened as he pulled her in. They were so close, so very close...like they were on Saturday. A sharp exhale escaped her throat as her eyes met his. There it was again, that look, that spark. God, he was so beautiful, it hurt.

He tucked her hair behind her ear like then. He smelled like he did then. His warmth enveloped her like then. It was all the same. Her powerful heartbeat, her labored breathing, the way the light hit his eyes, the small scar on his right eyebrow, his hand lingering on her cheek. It was all the same...except...

He leaned forward, slightly brushing her forehead with his..his hair was so soft...he smelled so good. His sigh tickled her lips before he pressed them into hers.

Except...

He just kissed her.

---

Here’s the link for it on ff.net and Wattpad

#Damian Wayne #raven #teen titans #gotham academy #demonbirds #damirae #fanfic #DRGAfanfic #WHAT DID YOU GUYS THINK #questions comments concerns #i really like this one okay #this is my little baby #i love these two so much pls make them canon #are you guys excited for the lil comic im drawing because I AM

[iwritethat]

Bruce Wayne: Ladies Man

A/N: A bit of Batman because I don’t have enough on here.

>>>>——————————>

It was simply a side job, in Gotham such honest living was difficult to come by so when an old friend of the family offered you a waitress position at their bar you couldn't refuse whilst getting through school at 16. Who wouldn't want to earn some cash right? Surprisingly they upheld a few laws, like not letting you serve alcohol but if you remained then it would be something you'd learn among other things.

After 2 years, one interesting thing about the job was the vast variety of customers the bar attracted. You intermingled with the likes of Gotham royalty, both of upper class and the underground depending on the day and being a long term employee meant they remembered your name whether you liked it or not. Unfortunately, due to your uncanny ability to charm just about anyone, you were the pub favourite often requested to serve and the owner adhered to the requests of the wealthy for obvious reason - plus they tipped you generously.

Among these was young bachelor Bruce Wayne, you were on a first name basis with how often his friends came in clubbing. They weren't 21 but money and fake IDs do the talking. Although you cared not for their names, it was Bruce who seemed more mysterious and calculating than he'd ever let on.

Tonight he sat at the bar in contemplation, a member of his group snogging the face off of some lass rather lazily in your opinion.

"I'm surprised you aren't indulging in the same luxuries." You casually addressed your friend, sliding your platter onto the bar and leaning on it beside him gesturing to the aforementioned pair.

"I'm not great at charming women yet. The status does it all for me right now."

"You can't rely on that! You're Bruce Wayne, I expect you to be smooth and have me falling at your feet. What if there's a girl you really like who won't care for your status hm?" He raised a brow at your playful tone, but you'd captured his interest as you usually did unintentionally.

"I don't know, I haven't met one yet."

"Alright then we're going to prepare for that day so she'll be wanting more. C’mon, show me." You patted the bar for emphasis, smirking at his suddenly confused expression.

"Right here, now?"

"Dazzle me." Came your simple yet upbeat response as you gestured him to bring it.

"Okay fine. So uh... you come here often?" Bruce attempted rather awkwardly, leaning against the bar in a way he thought to be seductive as you remained unreadably silent.

"Pfffttt that's the best you've got?" You couldn't hold your laughter for long, head falling into your arms on the bar to stifle them.

"No - no! (Y/n) it's not that funny..." He hummed, lightly nudging your arm to regain your full attention.

"You're right, I just - it was so bad. You're so crap at flirting it hurts!"

"Oh? How would you do it then?" For someone so young, he was challenging and you would be lying if you said you didn't enjoy it.

You ran your hands through your hair, fingers gently grazing his arm with a gentle bite of your lip.

"Now now, we can't have you falling for a mere waitress now can we?"

"You're not just a waitress (Y/n)..." His gaze followed you around the bar as you now learnt over it with a courteous smirk.

"Right there - you watched me walk away, I already have you hooked right?"

"Wait - that didn't - you didn't use a pick up line or anything! How does that even count?" Bruce looked back and forth, stammering once coming to the realisation that you'd charmed him so easily whilst you leaned back to clean a glass.

"Look, chances are that pickup lines are only going to be laughed about and to break the ice anyway, after that you've just gotta be yourself. The people who are worth it will stick around." You gave a haphazard shrug with a genuine smile on your lips and you nodded to the billionaire across from you. It always caught him off guard, the amount of wisdom you held for someone only his age.

"Like you?"

"There are better people in the world than me Bruce Wayne."

—

The air was bitter as you stood outside the usually welcome doors of your workplace, ones that remained closed due to recent occurrences. You held the keys and deed between your fingers, fiddling due to the unfamiliar weight of newfound responsibility - the owner was always a mysterious man, striking resemblance to a character from Kingsman adorned with a British accent and designer suits. Even so his death came as a shock, his Will stating that his bar and all its contents be passed on to you even more baffling.

"The only thing you'll catch out here is a cold." A calm but witty voice commented, the man now standing beside you expecting your signature snark.

"What are you doing here?"

"I heard the news, and I thought you might like some company doing this. I know you could handle it but I'm here." Bruce casually answered, your friendship remained constant through the years even if surprising. It seemed you just couldn’t get rid of each other.

"Is it a nightclub? Pub? Restaurant? A combination of all that? Is that even legal? I can't run this place - I don't even know what the hell it is! And the customers - they’re... well, some of them are illegal..." You grimaced at your overwhelmed outburst, palm slipping from the door it once had the intention of opening.

"Hey, why don't you come over to the Manor? I've got the evening free and we can go through it all together, and I'll attempt to lighten you up as we go." You were carefully torn from the door, the millionaire holding your hands in his, the warmth a welcome comfort from the breeze of Gotham.

"The key word in there was 'attempt', wasn't it?" You met his concerned gaze now, tone holding expectant sarcasm despite remaining laced with defeat.

"It has been said that my brooding can get in the way." Bruce responded, hand rubbing the back of his neck out of what you assumed was embarrassment.

"Sounds fun, lead the way oh rich one." You released a half hearted chuckled as the male rolled his eyes, offering his arm to you. However, the foreign soft whisper that followed caught him off guard so much so that he almost made a spelling error on the email currently cancelling tonight’s scheduled meeting.

"And thanks Bruce... for everything."

You spent the night at the Manor, delving into your insecurities and Bruce aided in the business side of things where he could in aid of settling at least some of the worries you had. Afterwards you enjoyed one another’s company, catching up on the weeks events as well as the unfurling of his newest addition to the household over the fanciest champagne and 5* meal courtesy of Alfred who you’d convinced to dine with you also.

-

In a month or so with Bruce’s support you were able to apply your extensive knowledge of the business into running it as your predecessor had and since the regulars knew you already it made it much easier as profits rolled in rather substantially. Now you knew how the old manager could afford his luxury suits.

Tonight though, Bruce made an appearance looking rather despondent and almost exhausted which may not be so obvious to surrounding staff or those not close to him but of course, you were an exception.

Naturally, you leaned on the opposite side of the bar, promoting a weak smile after you’d asked what was bothering the man.

"A business deal didn't go quite how I expected, and it kept me up all night." Bruce summarised, strategically avoiding the details regarding Penguin.

"Then I believe you need some cheering up, I hope you don't have any plans because they are now cancelled~"

"The Manor is free, I can get some strawberrry champagne (Y/n) -"

"Nope, it's my turn. You're about to find out how us commoners spend our evenings."

Without another word you walked him to your spacious apartment which was only around the corner, the hefty bar profits kept it well furnished and your cupboards stocked - even so, you convinced the billionaire to lower his standards to order in which you paid for against his protest.

"I'm paying this time, you're the one whose had it rough recently so I'm treating you. That's what friends are for, besides this food is a little below your pay grade don't you think?" You laughed as you filtered through your movie collection before finding a perfect selection for the night.

"If you think that after adopting Dick that I haven't been subjected to takeout then you're sorely mistaken. I quite enjoy it actually." The billionaire replied rather smugly, slowly growing accustomed to the relaxing atmosphere you and your home radiated. Bruce, for once, felt oddly content.

The movie began and ended, the time filled with idle conversation of which grew deeper as the credits rolled and continued whilst you pottered in the kitchen. Moments later you emerged with a tray, Bruce opening his mouth and closing it being too taken aback to comment.

"I present to you, Chocolat de (L/n)." Came your dramatic voice, accent where necessary to add charm.

Bruce shot you an amused glance, carefully taking on of the two tall mugs from the tray you held - the hot chocolate topped with cream, marshmallows and a flake - very appealing to the eye and tastebuds. It was practically famous in your club.

"(Y/n)?! This is - incredible.”

“Why thank you, only the best for you right?”

He smiled at that, a genuine smile that he’d hoped expressed his immense gratitude right about now.

“That must be why I have you then.”

“Ah, now that is a smooth line. Being in my company has improved your skills huh?” You wittily countered, though Bruce only offered a hopeless yet content sigh.

Clearly they weren’t as effective as you believed.

-

Bruce seemed refreshed after leaving that night, he’d emphasised his regret of not being able to see you in person to thank you properly over the various texts you’d exchanged in the past week - although, as you were wiping down the counter after an early close you were not expecting the uncanny interruption.

An hallowing echo against the oak bar captured your attention, finding a sheepish bachelor at it’s origin.

"What's this?" You inquired as you picked up the item he’d placed down moments ago, inspecting it precariously.

"It's premium Raspberry Ripple White Hot Chocolate - I thought we could try it, together."

"How on Earth do you get as many women as you do with vague attempts like that hm?" An amused brow was raised in his direction, the action relaxing the millionaire more than he’d admit.

"I'm much smoother when I don't actually have genuine feelings for someone, as such I suppose you don't get the privilege of cliché pick up lines. So what do you say (Y/n)?” It was unorthodox yes, but judging by your quiet laugh he assumed it was the way you’d want it.

"You had me at 'Do you come here often?'"

-BONUS-

"You're saying that line worked." Bruce taunted from his place by the Manors kitchen island, you sipping your drink with a nonchalant argument.

"It did not. It was awful."

"I had this all semi planned from the beginning (Y/n)." He smugly replied, tone basking in the victory of the overly drawn out ‘plan’.

"Hah! I refuse to believe this is how you predicted things to go when we first became friends." It was possible but it had been years since you’d first met, he could not have suspected you’d ever end up together this far ahead.

"You're correct Miss (Y/n), Master Bruce spent the entire evening whining about how he'd embarrassed himself in front of you after your little competition and that it was near impossible to win your affections. A common occurrence whenever he visited your bar really..." The loyal butler unceremoniously intervened, pride radiating from his unwanted revelation as he entered the kitchen.

"Alfred." Bruce released a defeated groan as he had you wrapped around his finger for a second, something he’d wanted to relish in for a few seconds before Alfred had besotted you with the truth.

You however, were pleased with the information, winking at your partner with a gracious smirk befalling your lips.

"Knew it."

#bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne imagine #batman x reader #batman imagine #dc #dc imagine

[sellyoursoulforagoodfic]

JKR 4: BRC 4

The fifth part of my Joker x reader/Bruce Wayne x reader series. This one doesn’t feature Joker, for the record.

Bruce Wayne x reader

Word Count: 819

Summary: At the gala, old men are gross.

Apparently, when at a gala on a date with billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne while wearing an exceedingly scandalous dress there was an open invitation for literally any sleaseball in Gotham’s upper class to grab your ass. Who knew? Sprinkled among the taunting pinches from Bruce, himself, had been gropes and grabs from random strangers pretty much since you arrived; though, the unfamiliar hands were starting to outnumber the familiar.

“Darling?” you called your date’s attention away from whatever ruse he was selling at the moment. You had to admit, you hated the ‘I’m stupid’ act he put on for his peers.

“Excuse me,” he said to the stuff-looking woman that had been sneering down at you for the last fifteen minutes. “My little minx beckons.”

As soon as you were out of earshot, you raised an eyebrow at him.

Bruce just shrugged. “You know how it is. What did you need?”

“Either we need to leave or I’m going to start breaking the hands of every old man that thinks my ass is their personal stress ball.”

“Is it weird that I find that incredibly sexy?”

“Bruce.”

“Right, leaving it is, then.” There was a pause as he sussed out exactly how that should be done. A slow, dangerous smirk started to spread across his face even as he leaned towards you, clearly angling for a kiss even in the middle of the decently-full ballroom. “Shall we cause a scene, then?” he murmured only inches away from your lips.

“You know me so well already,” you teased. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw that people were already starting to stare. “Did you stalk me more intensely than you let on, Mr. Wayne?”

“Perhaps. And yet you still agreed to date me. Why is that, Miss Y/L/N?”

“Why, your roguish charm, of course. I thought we discussed this already?”

“Oh, well in that case . . .”

Then his lips were on yours, and goddamn if his reputation didn’t seem to help his skill at kissing. The playboy nonsense seemed to be much less of a lie than you originally assumed based on the way his tongue was so easily making heat pool between your legs. You hadn’t even realized your arms had looped themselves around his neck until you felt yet another pinch your ass, which was absolutely ludicrous since Bruce’s hands were busy at your face and lower back and who would be gross or bold enough to molest an unwilling woman while  she was willingly being groped by someone else.

Later, you’d claim that it was instinct, but at present you grabbed the offending hand in a grip just shy of breaking bone. “Isn’t it rude to assault someone else’s date?” you asked, turning away from Bruce to address the offender, a man that looked to be Alfred’s age at least.

It was only Bruce’s hand wrapping warningly around your wrist that kept you from squeezing harder. “Did I not tell you, Mr. Raymond? This lovely little spitfire is a bodyguard in her work hours.” Well, that was one way to explain your actions.

“Maybe he shouldn’t go around grabbing what isn’t his,” you sneered, releasing your grip.

As he brought your hand back down to your side, Bruce’s thumb rubbed soothing circles on the inside of it. “I think he’s learned his lesson, hasn’t he?”

Raymond, who was now trying to rub the pain out of his own wrist, nodded frantically.

Fucker’s lucky I won’t press charges.

“Good!” Bruce chirped. “Now,” his free hand slid down to splay pointedly across one of your asscheeks, squeezing a little just to drive the point home, “I think that’s enough mingling for an evening. Come on, sweetheart.”

“Back to the penthouse?” you asked once the two of you were alone and away from the shocked silence you’d left in your wake.

“Yes. Personally, I’d like to continue what we started.”

“As long as you pick me up and fuck me against the wall as soon as we get there. I’ve heard rumors, and I’d like to test their validity.”

A pained groan escaped him. “Y/N . . .”

You glanced up at him innocently. “What? A girl spends all night getting felt up by her date, she’s gonna want some action. Especially when she knows just how rough his alter ego likes to be.”

“And those other men that felt you up?”

“So I’m a little hot and bothered thinking about one of us breaking their hands,” you shrugged. “We’re back to Batman being rough. Sue me. Not like you’re any better, Mr. I’ve-been-half-hard-since-my-date-grabbed-her-attacker.”

“Funny, I don’t remember my last name being that long.”

“Bruce, if your next words don’t include ‘I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk straight’ I’m calling my other guy to do it.”

“Then let’s get back to my penthouse so I can fuck you until you can’t walk straight.”

“Now you’re talkin’.”

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne imagine #batman imagine #batman x reader #reader insert #joker x reader #the joker x reader #heath ledger joker x reader #joker imagine #the joker imagine

[let-me-perish]

Part five - Alternate Beginnings

(I'm slapping a name on this kid because I want to explore the role swap one where Damian is Ladybug later)

Damian has, like, two days before his class gets shipped back to Gotham and the idea of leaving Marinette behind is surprisingly painful.

Gotham Academy and Francis Dupont luckily haven't had many clashes since they picked Marinette up at lunch but there have been small meetings. A group from either school see each other from across the street, or some of ms. Bustiers class see them with Marinette. Visitors from Francis Dupont to the Dupen-Chang bakery are often met by Gotham Academy students getting a snack or meeting with Marinette.

Those from Ms. Bustiers class don't know a lot about the Gothamites other than what Lila tells them, and since Lila doesn't know who's actually in the group she spins all kinds of stories about Damian and the others.

Marinette had to calm herself down multiple times in the face of her classmates accusing questions and demands as well as the slander Lila is spreading about her new friends and acquaintances. They want to know why she doesn't spend time with them, why she hangs out with the creepy and violent Gotham kids.

She eventually points out that Gotham Academy is actually quite a prestigious and well-renowned school that just happens to be in a less than perfect place.

Lila makes some snide comment about how it was only considered a good school because it's the best Gotham could possibly offer.

Marinette fights back on this. She brings up how a lot of the upper class send their kids there, like the Waynes. If it wasn't a good school they would send them to ones out of the city.

Lila points out that the Waynes are either playboys or jerks in the public eye. The perfect kind of people to belong in Gotham.

Marinette nearly loses it. Damian, while occasionally a little rough around the edges, has been overall kinder and supportive of her than anyone else in the classroom.

Marinette is also the one that gets in trouble with ms. Bustier for starting problems, despite the fact that she didn't even start it.

She gets held back at lunch that day as punishment and the Gotham Academy students are left waiting with no explanation for a good twenty minutes since her phone had also been taken.

They only find out because Damian gets fed up and corners the first member of her class he's able to.

It ends up being Rose but she's too soft for his taste for him to care and it only cements their classes opinion of him and his school.

Damian is upset and angry enough about how she's being treated that Hawkmoth finally sends out an Akuma for him.

Things go sideways for everyone when Akuma Damian has a sword and now goes by Revenger. His goal is to take revenge on those who have caused innocents insightful harm. And by revenge, he means gut them.

Marinette saw him get akumitized and gets out of the classroom quick enough that he doesn't actually hurt anyone.

Revenger has some respect for Ladybug since she protects the innocent but verbally rips into her for not going further and not being able to find Hawkmoth yet.

She manages to get him away from the school by flinging him halfway across town with her yo-yo.

He's only arriving of this choice and even encourages/taunts her to get more violent.

Ladybug of course refuses since he isn't really in control and this is her friend.

Revenger gets some not insignificant hits in by the time Chat Noir gets there and starts helping. But he's not much of a real help since it's Chat and he has all the faults Revenger knows how to exploit.

Trying to banter or flirt? Perfect opportunity to attack since they're distracted. Acting unprofessional or childish? Perfect opportunity for viral baiting and scorn to cause emotional damage. Arguing with Revenger or his partner? Another attack opportunity.

Ladybug and Chat have to lead him on a chase so she can get enough ground to summon her lucky charm and for them both to catch their breath.

They end up at the top of some building and Revenger gets his hands on Ladybug. He uses holding her hostage as an opportunity to rip into Chat Noir this time. He let's the 'hero' know exactly what he thinks of him, his behavior on the battlefield, and his behavior towards Ladybug.

The eventual "she's my lady, we're meant to be together!" line comes and Revenger looks to Ladybug.

"Your opinions on this?"

Ladybug's voice is quiet and resigned. She knows what the consequences of this are going to be. "Chat, I've told you, I was in love with someone else. You can't seem to respect that and even if I was in love with you, which I'm not, that right there would be a deal-breaker. That's not even counting the fact that this is a serious responsibility we've been given and you keep playing around. I want to work with you Chat but you've been making it so hard... I can't love I'm one like that, not now and not ever if they don't change."

Chat Noir us gaping up until he gets kicked off the roof by Revenger.

Ladybug panics because, hey, that's still my partner right there. It's also not like she wants him dead or anything. She managed to break free and grab Chat with the yo-yo to stop him from dying from fall damage but then uses him like a midlevel flair to slam into Revenger so she can get to the akumatized object.

She never did use her lucky charm but once the Akuma is purified and she miraculous cure is cast she books it out of there with the dazed and confused Damian.

She can't stay to make sure he's ok as Ladybug so she drops him in front of the school and comes running out as Marinette.

Once he has his barrings, Damian is Shooketh by the lack of memories of the Akumitizations and utter lack of control as it was happening. He finally understands why Hawkmoth is terrifying to Ladybug and the people of Paris. He could have done anything under his control and all he remembered was a voice asking if he wanted Marinette(and people like her) to be safe and treated fairly.

Marinette does what she can to help him, ditching the last classes for the day and taking him to Andres gelato cart. Her parents will understand.

They're given complimentary gelato cones(?) But neither realize since Damian's stressed and Marinette is worried.

Eventually, Damian has processed things, calmed down, asked about what he did, and come to terms with what had just happened.

Damian is invited over to dinner again since they won't see each other again after this. His class leaves in two days and the teachers will be to busy cramming in last minute things for the students to see her.

The dinner is kept happy as the two make sure for the fifth time they have each others addresses and numbers right. (They might as well have them tatooed on the back of their hands with how well they remember it)

When they part there's worried and whispered demands of promises that they'll actually write and text.

When Damian's class leaves he's 'forced' to send her a selfie of him and the entire class in the plane taking them back to the US. He sends her another of just him with the text underneath it reading 'I wish you had let me stash you in my luggage, then you could come back to Gotham with me.'

Marinette sends a selfie back with her and her parents holding up deserts themed after Gothams heroes with the text 'to bad you didn't, maybe then I should have shared these.'

There's rioting in the plane over the fact that no one remembered to grab a box of Dupen-Chang baked goods for the flight home.

#marinette x damian #maribat #marinette dupen chang #damian wayne #alternate beginning au