#jason really out here wearing a man city hoodie huh

[maccreadysbaby]

A Hundred Days to Become a Wayne

batfamily + oc insert

tw: none

wanna start from chapter one or read more? here’s the table of contents!

part seven

❝ DAY ONE ❞

SATURDAY — 4:43PM A FEW HOURS LATER, BENTLEY AND NIGHTWING WERE STANDING ON THE DOORSTEP OF WAYNE MANOR. The sun was shining brightly down on them, and the sky was baby blue with fluffy clouds scattered about.

The Manor and grounds were extensively massive, way bigger in person than all the photographs Bentley had seen in his father’s files. The fact that Bruce Wayne was a millionaire resurfaced in his head at the sight of the house. Mansion. Manor. Whatever. The massive metal gates in the front had been open upon their arrival. The cutting-edge architecture and traditional design of the Manor kind of reminded Bentley of the Whittaker Estate, except much, much bigger. He tried not to think about home too much.

He found himself staring down at his nasty red tennis shoes more than anything else. It felt kind of awkward strolling up to Wayne Manor in Damian Wayne’s sweatpants and hoodie, but it was better than being in his soggy, bloody clothes from last night.

He’d attempted to make his red hair not look like death before they left the safe house, but all of his attempts were pretty futile considering everything that’d happened. It was just a slightly neater mop than it had been earlier. He desperately needed a shower. (Nightwing had offered that he use the one at the safe-house, but he ended up taking another nap after they ate instead.)

Bentley kept his hands shoved in the hoodie pockets as they walked toward the front door. He kind of wished he wasn’t with Nightwing so Dick Grayson could answer.

There were only so many options for door openers. Damian Wayne might open it, but Bentley knew from his father’s excessive files that he had been trained by actual assassins and might kill Bentley in a millisecond simply out of spite for wearing his clothes. Or Jason Todd might open the door, who was trained by the same assassins but carried guns. It could be Tim Drake, who was a bit less scary than the others, but not really, because he’d probably already come up with fifty-seven different ways to kill whoever was outside on his walk through the house. It could be Cassandra Cain, who was also trained to be a human weapon, or Stephanie Brown, the daughter of an angry supervillain. Or Duke Thomas, who had literal superpowers. Or it could be Bruce Wayne, the Batman, or Alfred, the butler.

He really, really hoped it was the butler.

“Here it is, kiddo. Mister Bruce Wayne’s house,” Nightwing stated, walking alongside Bentley, staying in stride with the child as he took in the sheer size of the building and grounds. House was definitely an understatement. This was no house. Bentley wasn’t even sure Manor was a good enough word. “Pretty nice, huh?”

Bentley might’ve chuckled if he wasn’t so focused on the fact that the mansion was as big as an entire city.

“We can knock on the door whenever you’re ready,” Nightwing was smiling down at him, watching him with a hopeful gleam behind his domino mask.

The doors — Bentley glanced over at them. The doors were huge all by themselves. Gigantic masses of mahogany that would probably crush a full grown man if they fell off the hinges. They had intricate designs and carvings all over them, but still managed to look expensive and classy.

“Uh…” Was all Bentley managed to say.

“Pretty massive, isn’t it?” Nightwing chuckled. “Safest place in all of Gotham.”

Bentley didn’t doubt that at all. Probably because the house was a superhero hideout and had the security to prove it, he was sure.

After he looked at the doors, he stared back down at his shoes. “I, uh… you can knock.”

Nightwing nodded. Bentley stiffened when he saw his hand rising in his peripheral, but relaxed when the vigilante really did just knock on the door.

The butler did not open it.

It was Bruce Wayne who did. Batman. If anyone would be able to smell the phony all over Bentley, it would be him. As soon as the large wooden mass swung inward, the child took a few steps back out of sheer intimidation.

Bruce was extremely tall, taller than Nightwing, and just… big. Everything was big here. Why was everything so big and Bentley was so small?

Bruce wasn’t phased by the child shrinking away.

Neither was Bentley’s father.

“Nightwing,” He greeted, as though he wasn’t literally Nightwing’s father. He and the hero shook hands, all business-like.

“Mister Wayne. Thank you so much for returning my call,”

Bentley decided to keep staring at the ground, twisting his hands together in front of him. He could feel his anxiety buzzing again — because he was on a secret mission to destroy Bruce Wayne, but Bruce Wayne was Batman, and it was basically a house full of detectives. He was going undercover in a house full of detectives.

“Bentley, this is Mister Bruce Wayne,” Nightwing introduced, gesturing to the very big man. “And Bruce, this is Bentley.”

Bruce Wayne crouched down so he was closer to Bentley’s height, just like Nightwing had been doing off and on since they met. Bruce’s posture was a bit more tense and closed off than Dick’s was, but his hands didn’t look like they were going to move, and he had a pretty convincing wince of a smile painted across his face.

His father’s training tips echoed in his head: Always look in their eyes, Bentley. Eyes tell you everything.

That’s why Bentley kept his glued to his shoes. So the famous bat-detective couldn’t see them.

“Hey there, Bentley. I’m Bruce Wayne,” He smiled, somewhat nicer this time. “Nightwing here told me you need a place to stay for a while.”

Bentley didn’t reply. He glanced up to Nightwing on impulse, who was looking down at him with a reassuring smile.

“You can come in whenever you’d like. A couple of my kids are here… and dinner is starting in a bit, if you feel up for it. Otherwise you can just relax,”

It seemed like everywhere he went, Bentley had a bunch of choices to make. Everything was so much easier when his father just told him what to do.

“Are you ready to go in?” Nightwing asked gently.

Bentley glared down at the threshold of the house like he was some kind of monster that couldn’t pass.

His father’s timer started as soon as he crossed the line. A hundred ways to destroy them or he’d be destroyed.

He took a step forward, and Bruce stood up, moving out of his way. Three more steps and he was standing on the hardwood, and Nightwing was on the other side of the doorway, bidding him a warm goodbye. He said goodbye, too, even though he knew he’d be seeing him again soon.

Right now he just needed to focus on the task at hand. He was the Puppeteer, and he was here to destroy. To destroy an entire family by manipulating them. He was here to tie strings to the wrists and ankles of the Wayne’s until they were under his complete control, bending to his whim, moving when he moved. A Wayne wrapped around each finger.

Day One starts now.

—

“If you want to meet some of my children, they’d be happy to come downstairs,” Bruce started after they closed the door on Nightwing. “Only Duke and Damian are here at the moment — Tim, Cass, Dick, Jason, and Stephanie come and go as they please.”

Duke and Damian. Signal and Robin.

“Or if you’d rather me show you to your room, that’s fine, too,”

Bentley fiddled with his hands inside his hoodie pocket, staying silent and letting his eyes bounce everywhere but at Bruce. At the carpet lined staircase, the beautiful light fixtures, the breezeways that led to different parts of the manor. The plan suddenly seemed a lot more intimidating now that Batman was standing in front of him.

“I… uh…” Anything you say can be used against you, that’s why you don’t talk, you listen, his father’s voice echoed. “The room… is fine.”

“Alright,” Bruce nodded in the boy’s peripheral.

“Ah, Master Bruce. Here are the amenities you requested,” A butler suddenly materialized behind Bruce, holding a basket in hand. (Bentley was ninety-nine percent sure he hadn’t seen him come through any of the doors.)

He was tall, lanky, and nicely manicured, with a waistcoat and a little mustache. Alfred Pennyworth, Bentley’s mind immediately supplied, the man who raised Bruce after his parents died. How old was Bruce? Thirty? Forty? How old was Alfred? He didn’t look a day over fifty, and that kind of freaked Bentley out.

“Welcome to the Manor, Master Bentley,” Pennyworth made his way to the child and bowed a bit, holding the little basket toward him. Bentley inwardly applauded himself when he didn’t jump. “Should you ever need anything, I would be more than delighted to provide it for you.”

Bentley nodded slightly in response, reaching out and taking the basket apprehensively. He spotted a small collection of toiletries, a toothbrush, some toothpaste, and a few pairs of rolled up pajamas inside. “Thank you… sir.” He whispered.

“Please, call me Alfred. All the children do,”

Bentley nodded again, wordlessly. Alfred engaged in a quick, quiet conversation with Bruce on his way out of the room, and the child took to staring at his shoes again.

“Alright, let’s get you to your room,” Bruce stated as the butler drifted away. He continued across the large entryway towards the stairs, and Bentley followed behind warily.

Wayne Manor reminded him of home. A lot of home. From the polished wooden banisters to the plush and expensive carpet, it all made him shiver.

Hopefully Bruce didn’t have an unused four-by-four utility closet with Bentley’s name on it stashed away somewhere.

The man spoke softly on their way up the stairs, but Bentley wasn’t listening — he was too preoccupied by the quiet music that seemed to be playing from somewhere on the second floor. Was that a violin?

Bentley followed Bruce down the first hallway at the top of the stairs, and the music grew louder as they continued on. The hall was decorated with nicely kept tables and paintings — none of which seemed to contain even a single spec of dust — and a few family photographs mixed in.

One in particular made Bentley slow as they passed it.

It had to be new, because Duke was in it, and according to his father’s files, he hadn’t been in the Manor more than a year. It was everyone Bruce had mentioned — himself, Alfred, Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian, Stephanie, Cassandra, Duke, and Barbara Gordon, all in the golden frame. It seemed to be a candid photograph. Jason Todd looked angry, but Dick was hugging him anyways, in true older brother fashion. Tim and Stephanie were laughing at them. Cassandra, Barbara, and Duke seemed to be in deep conversation about something. Damian may or may not have been arguing with Bruce, who had a little smile on his face, and Alfred was staring at the camera competently with a nice smile.

It eased Bentley’s nerves a little, at least, to see them all out of uniform in a family portrait.

“It’s a lot, huh?” Bruce questioned. Bentley realized he’d been standing still for too long. He hastily stepped away from the photograph, and an apology started rising up in his throat, but Bruce had already continued: “Keeping a steady headcount is way more of a task than it should be.”

Bentley found himself inching backwards when Bruce approached the picture, sighing a find little sigh. “They can be quite overbearing… but I find it endearing. I think they’ll be very happy to meet you, no matter how long or short you stay with us.”

A hundred days, actually, Bentley said to himself. But he stayed outwardly quiet and looked at the photograph for a few moments. There weren’t any printed photographs in his father’s house. Definitely not of him.

“Your room is right up here. First one on the left,” Bruce continued, heading toward the closest door. “My son, Damian, is right next door, and Tim is right across the hall. Overall pretty quiet neighbors. I have the loudest at the other end together — don’t tell Dick.”

Bentley didn’t bother cracking a fake smile, Bruce wasn’t looking anyways.

The man paused at the first door. “Here we are.”

He pushed it open, and Bentley stiffened.

It was just like his room at home.

Sure, the furniture was laid out a bit different, and the bathroom door was on the other side of the room, but everything else was virtually the same. The massive king bed, the several-thousand-dollar looking wardrobe and dressers that made Bentley not want to touch them, the twin windows that sat on either side of the bed. Even the bedspreads were similar shades of grey. He wondered if this was his father’s way of taunting him in his subconscious.

“I’ll give you time to get settled in. Feel free to use the shower, or anything else in here. It’s all yours,” Bruce explained lowly, settling near the doorframe. “I’ll let you know when Alfred has dinner ready, but you can come downstairs before then, if you’d like. I won’t be hard to find.”

Bentley didn’t reply, glancing around the room.

“Or if you’d rather come back down with me, or I stay here with you, that’s okay, too. I won’t mind. It’s all up to you,”

So many options. He could stay here, but he didn’t have to. Or Bruce could stay here, but he didn’t have to. Or he could go back downstairs, but he didn’t have to, or he could come down later, but he didn’t have to-

“I’ll… stay,” Was what he finally settled on. Bruce was quick to nod in agreement.

“Would you rather me stay, or go?”

Honestly?

“You can go,”

“Alright,” Bruce agreed quickly again. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask. I’ll be back later to check on you.”

Bentley nodded.

He watched Bruce slowly back out of the doorframe, pulling the door shut along with him. He looked like he almost said something else, but, apparently, decided not to. He left the door open the tiniest crack. Bentley waited quietly, and about five full seconds later, he heard him turn and retreat down the hall.

The boy exhaled heavily, putting the basket on the floor near the foot of the bed.

He’d successfully survived his first full encounter with Batman without being maimed or arrested, so he categorized it as a win.

He sincerely hoped meeting Robin wasn’t a different story.

—

dedicated to @sassenashsworld 💛

#batboys #batfamily #batman #oc; bentley whittaker #oc; bentley #oc; john whittaker #oc; the puppeteer #oc; the puppet master #mb; a hundred days to become a wayne #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #dick grayson #nightwing #barbara gordon #oracle #jason todd #red hood #cassandra cain #orphan #tim drake #red robin #stephanie brown #spoiler #duke thomas #signal #damian wayne #damian al ghul #dc robin #robin

[ggomos-maribat]

Fight for the Throne: Babysitting Bat

Part 5.5 of Heirs Apparent | AO3

Masterlist

By the time he reached the base, Bruce could feel fatigue seeping into his bones. He came upon a large sealed entrance located underground and dusted with sand and rocks. Tracking down the missing people had taken longer than he wanted, but he'd be damned if anything happened to any of his sons.

What remains unclear is that aside from Damian, Tim, Jason and Dick, there were others who had been taken by the League as well. Bruce had done a background check and . . . he was still not prepared to face the truth. The girl, Marinette, was like a reflection of Talia though bearing Martha Wayne's eyes. The boy, Danny, clearly resembled Damian but seemed different in many ways. From his quick research, he had found nothing too out of the ordinary about the two children though he had asked Barbara to find out more for him.

He attached a device to the door to analyze it. Considering that it was a League base, it would have countless entrances and exits, some more dangerous than others. It was a risky decision to go in alone but Cassandra and Duke had promised to fly over in case he needed backup, with Alfred helping out over comms.

He studied the screen. It was locked by a certain mechanism, not really needing a key but—

"Hey old man, are you gonna open up this thing or not?"

If Bruce were any less experienced, he would've jumped at the sudden presence beside him. He did a double take, not because it was a little girl who wore some hoodie and jeans, not because she was casually chewing gum outside a base of killers and not because his tech never picked up on her movements. No, Bruce had to look twice because this girl had a terrible resemblance to him.

How many children do I . . . he wondered tiredly.

I'm not even going to ask how. Really, he only had enough energy to save his sons (and possibly other biological children), not swirl into another existential crisis. Picking up his composure, he cleared his throat. "I . . . I am still analyzing how to open it up."

The girl stared up at him, unimpressed. "Huh."

More people. The moment Bruce's hairs stood on end, he flicked a Batarang behind him, expecting a handful of assassins. What he didn't expect is the Batarang to land on the dry ground, cleanly split into two.

He looked at the two newcomers: a short girl dressed in a crimson suit and a matching mask, with strange symbols around the getup, and a boy next to her seemingly wearing a suit made of teal scales. The girl had her sword held out in front of her, undoubtedly the culprit of the broken Batarang.

Heroes I've never seen before, Bruce thought.

"Whoa, that's so cool!" The little girl gawked. "She cut your weapon to bits, old man!"

Bruce could only grunt in response.

"Who are you?" The girl in red narrowed her eyes at them, her short-cut bob swaying the wind.

"That's Batman," the boy whispered beside him, "Gotham's hero. And that girl . . ."

"I'm Danielle!" The child supplied for them. "You can call me Ellie! I'm here to save my brother and sister."

A spark of recognition lit up in Bruce's head. He whirled around to face Ellie. "By any chance, are your brother and sister Daniel and Jasmine Fenton?"

Ellie blinked up at him, taking cautious steps backwards. "How did you know that?"

Better explain the situation quickly. "I've done some investigation. There were some persons of interest who disappeared after an accident in a bus heading to Gotham. I am here to rescue some . . . residents of the city who were kidnapped." He then turned to the pair of heroes. "I assume you are here for Ms. Dupain-Cheng, Mr. Agreste, Ms. Bourgeois and Ms. Kubdel?"

The girl stiffened but lowered her sword. "We are."

"Will you tell us who you might be? I don't believe you're in the Justice League's hero database."

The two looked at each other in a silent conversation. It was the blue-haired boy who replied to him, "Sorry, that information's classified. But you can call me Viperion and this is Ryuko."

"Their names are so cool," Ellie marveled, "Unlike 'Batman'."

Bruce decided to ignore that statement.

"Is this the entrance to the place then?" Ryuko eyed the old sealed door.

"Yes, it seems to open only by special means." Bruce tapped on his device again.

Ellie knocked on the crusty door before putting an ear up to it. "You're taking such a looong time," she told them. "I'll open it."

Before Bruce could register anything, the child phased through the door and a click reverberated as the entrance cracked open. Behind it was a beaming Ellie, who seemed to take enjoyment from their stunned expressions.

Bruce walked into the dim passageway slowly. He wanted to believe that the fact these children were here proved that they were more than capable to protect themselves, he really did. But something inside him was screaming that he was responsible for them now.

He remained at the back of the group, with Ellie skipping along in the lead and Viperion and Ryuko following close behind her. "Do you all know what this place is?"

"Nope," said Ellie, popping the 'p'. "I just got word from Sam and Tucker that Danny and Jazz were in trouble and they just tracked them down. Oh . . . well they did say I should wait for them before I go but I thought I'd get a headstart! They could be dissecting my brother in there!"

Bruce was going to wait to unpack all of that. He suspected that if he asked too many questions, Ellie would become wary of him.

"Why would they be dissecting your brother?" Ryuko asked. 

"Oh sorry, 'vivisect'." Ellie hummed. "That's what they called it."

"What?"

Ellie waved the thought off as if it needed no further explanation. Bruce was ready to tear is hair off.

Viperion shifted his lyre to his other hand (a strange choice for a weapon, it seemed). "Um, as for Ryuko and I . . . we only managed to track down their locations. We know that this place seems to have ties with—"

Ryuko elbowed the other hero before he could say anything more.

"Right." Viperion continued, "But aside from one fact, we don't know much. We just need to save the captives and return them to safety."

"This is the base of an organization called the League of Assassins," Bruce explained. "I do advise on proceeding with caution; all the enemies we encounter will have an intent to kill."

"Pfft you can't kill what's already dead!"

"Sorry?"

"Oops!" Ellie faced them with a sheepish smile. "Forget I said anything."

Again, Bruce was going to ignore that . . . for a while.

Ryuko tilted her head. "What do you mean by that?"

Ellie only smiled, imitating their words earlier with an exaggerated low tone. "That information's classified."

Bruce grazed the walls of the tunnel. Although the structure was rugged, it wasn't as old as the one in Nanda Parbat. He could only guess that it was a new base built after the death of Ra's al Ghul. Nonetheless, he kept his senses peeled for traps and danger.

"Do any of you have an idea why the League of Assassins might abduct Daniel and Marinette?" Bruce threw out the question, something that had been burning at the back of his mind.

"He prefers ‘Danny’." Ellie skipped over a rock. "I. . . I dunno. He has a lot of enemies and I don't keep track so . . ."

"We don't know either," Viperion replied quietly. The sudden tense air that surrounded him and Ryuko told Bruce that there was something more, as if they were desperate for answers themselves.

Bruce sighed inwardly. As for Damian, he could only come up with tentative answers, never certainties. He anticipated that there would one day that Talia would come and try to bring his son back to the League, but the existence of Danny and Marinette were two things that added more confusion into the mix. If the League wanted something from the three of them, he could at least assume they wouldn't try to harm them.

Ellie stopped on her tracks all of a sudden and put her fingers on her ear. Bruce noticed the earpiece hidden by her unruly hair—she was speaking to someone. "Oh hey! Tuck. Sam. So I'm here now . . . What? Nooo, of course not! No, I haven't, not yet. But you'll never guess who I met over here!"

As Ellie smiled smugly at her proclaimed discovery, Bruce listened silently, wishing he could find out what the whole conversation was.

"What?! You got Wulf to portal you here? And then he left?" A frown crossed her features. "Ancients, how are we gonna go back? I mean I can fly but not you both and not Jazz. Yeah, you’re right—even if Danny can portal us out we’re not sure what condition he’s in."

Her eyes met Bruce's and they instantly sparkled with an idea. "Wait, hold on. Yeah, I know this is in the middle of nowhere! Just wait a sec!"

After hearing her press a button on the earpiece, Bruce finally spoke. "Do your companions need assistance?"

"Yup! There aren't any natural portals nearby so it's pretty hard to come here." Ellie shrugged. Bruce withheld from asking what she meant by 'portals'. He could assume that this 'Sam' and 'Tucker' don't have the same abilities as Ellie does, hence the transportation problem. He also had a sneaking feeling that they weren't much older than the girl herself.

"The Batplane is nearby; I can direct it to them." He started tapping on a screen attached to his forearm. "They can help with our getaway. The autopilot function will do most of the work anyway. But they'll have to stay there —it'll be too dangerous to go in here if it's just the two of them."

"Whoa, you became like seven times cooler, old man." Ellie laughed. "Tucker will freak out!"

She reopened her comm and began relaying the information to Sam and Tucker. Meanwhile, Bruce caught Viperion's gaze, who seemed to be studying him whilst whispering inaudibly to Ryuko. The older hero rolled his shoulders, feeling strangely pinned under his penetrative stare.

"Yeah 'course I'm with him!" Ellie rolled her eyes. "I'll get Danny and Jazz, don't worry. Oh, and he says not to touch anything or he'll feed you to man-eating bats!"

Bruce is suddenly reminded of his children. A little of the chaotic behavior like Tim, brashness from Jason, Damian's ferocity and Dick's recklessness. Even Stephanie's loudness. It was terribly ironic how he himself shared the same eyes with her.

When Ellie finished her talk and led the group to continue walking, Bruce inched closer to the two suited heroes and asked them about their travel mode. He didn't recall seeing or detecting any vehicle nearby. Perhaps they can fly?

"We have our own means," Ryuko answered.

"We might take you up on that plane offer but it depends on . . ." Viperion cut himself off again. "It depends."

He gave them a single nod. Maybe if he met the Parisian captives, he'd get more information out of them.

After a few minutes of walking, they reached another blockade: a door it looked like. Ellie wasted no time turning intangible and going through it, but she returned almost immediately. "There's no way to open it from inside," she reported.

This door did look different from the first one, Bruce noted. Instead of rotting wood, it was a chunk of steel bolted into the rock. No handle, no lock, no knob, but there was a protrusion on the wall beside it that looked like a small keypad.

"Let me try." He shuffled towards the front and looked at the device. He connected it to his screen and saw that the lock was more complex than he thought, made up of foreign symbols and alphanumerics.

"Hn. There's too many combinations to consider. This will take too much time." His eyebrows furrowed. There must be a straightforward password of some sorts.

"Don't you have, like, a blaster?" Ellie tapped her knuckles on the metal.

". . .No."

"So how long would it take to brute force it?" Viperion asked.

"A hundred forty-six hours approximately." Bruce glanced back at them.

Ryuko seemed to have kept up with whatever was on her companion's mind. She shot him a scowl. "No. You're not doing that," she said firmly. "You're going to transform back."

Transform back? There is a limit to their forms? Bruce wondered.

"I can hide to recharge," said Viperion.

Still, the heroine was unconvinced. She shook her head. "I have an idea. Let me try."

"But you'll detransform too."

"I won't if I don't use all three."

Viperion surrendered, stepping back to let her carry out her plan. Ryuko moved forward, brought her sword, and mumbled some words under her breath. In a blink, she disappeared and a bolt of lightning pierced through the tunnel, attacking the steel door and searing a crack on the rock. She reappeared soon afterwards.

Yet the door didn't budge.

Bruce was pretty sure Ryuko hissed out a French curse.

She turned to Viperion again. "Maybe water . . ."

"Really?" He gave her an amused smile.

"Fine. Go ahead." Ryuko crossed her arms. "But do not overdo it. I'll watch your back when you detransform."

It was Viperion's turn this time; his movements were followed by a silent but eager-eyed Ellie. He turned the band on his wrist and tapped on the lock. With a beep and a hiss, the steel door slid to the side to grant them entry.

Bruce stared at him. "It was that fast for you?"

He shrugged nonchalantly. "Not really. Took me like five thousand one hundred forty tries. And that's already pretty lucky."

"Whaaat?" Ellie gawked, peering up at the keypad. "Do you have superspeed or something?"

He only responded with a cryptic smile.

Beeps began to sound from the same band he wore. "Um, I'll go back a bit so you don't see me," he told them. "But you three can go ahead and I'll catch up."

He jogged down the passage behind them, merging with the dark. Though Bruce was brimming with curiosity, the expression on Ryuko's face was enough to warn them that they shouldn't try to pry into it.

---

Bruce soon received an alert informing him that two passengers had boarded the Batplane. He connected to its comms and heard a voice testing the line: "Uhh, hello? Is this thing on?"

And another voice. "Tuck, are you sure you know what you're doing?"

His hunch was correct. They were kids. He was surrounded by children. Children who were supposed to save people from a literal assassin breeding ground.

"The line is open," he replied, "You are Sam and Tucker, correct?"

"Whazat?" Ellie turned her head upon hearing her friends' names.

Instead of speaking, Bruce switched the communicator to loudspeaker so the others could also hear.

"Oh. My. Ancients. That was Batman! Sam, did you hear him?" Tucker gasped.

The girl, Sam, sounded exasperated. "I know, I know."

Ellie leapt to Bruce's side, exclaiming. "I'm here too!"

Sam's tone softened. "Ellie? Is that you? Aren't you transformed? Your voice isn't . . . garbled."

Ellie blinked, seemingly remembering something. She must've read confusion on Bruce's face despite it being covered since she grinned sheepishly. "Normal tech can't pick up sounds from my . . . uuh, other form." She motioned on the earpiece she wore. "That reminds me, hey Tucker can you connect that thing to my Fenton phone?"

"I'd have to plug it in and make adjustments," said Tucker. "Do you—erm, mind Mr. Batman, sir?"

If it would make communication easier for them, then it shouldn't be a problem, Bruce decided. "I don't mind."

"Sweet." Ellie hopped to the front of the group again.

Ryuko cleared her throat. "Ellie, who are these people?"

"Sam and Tucker. Danny's friends but I guess they're my friends too." She didn't elaborate further. Bruce made a mental note to scour for more information about them.

Soon they reached another obstacle. The stony door had a wheel in its middle, sort of like one used to steer a ship. Ellie phased through again, and returned with a sullen look on her face. "It looks like a dead end," she relayed. "Only way is straight down. I would've fallen if I couldn't fly."

"But the way you came from seems like the most used entrance," Tucker's voice sounded from the screen. "You guys sure there aren't hidden passageways there?"

Bruce headed towards the door. If it was actually the only path, then the wheel must have some kind of use. He tentatively turned the wheel, just around ninety degrees to test it, then it spun back into place.

"Hey look, there's some kind of symbols on the handle," Ellie pointed out.

"Is it a puzzle?" Ryuko tilted her head.

"But if there's a dead end behind it, what's the point of unlocking the door?" Viperion said.

Bruce thought for a moment. Solving this 'puzzle' doesn't have to unlock the door. He checked his device that tracked their path so far. They needed to move straight north, where the center would be, but the winding path was taking them northeast. The wheel must be something that could 'steer' them to the right direction.

He tried turning it: clockwise until it hit a break at about a hundred eighty degrees. This time, the wheel didn't revert back. The ground started to shake, and the entire tunnel seemed to be moving to the side with them in it. He braced himself against the door until the motions stopped. It automatically opened to reveal a connecting path.

"Whoa." Ellie said, "How'd you know you were supposed to do that?"

"I'm a detective."

Tucker spoke again. "Of course he knows! He's Batman, Ellie!"

The girl put her arms behind her head as they walked. "I would've phased through everything if I were alone."

"Don't use your powers carelessly," Sam warned her. "It's dangerous."

"I know that!"

Batman wondered how many locked doors were left. They couldn't spend their time in the tunnels forever—who knows what the League was doing to the captives. Unfortunately, they couldn't enter too recklessly and catch attention. Bruce felt that they were going to be in the base for much longer than he predicted.

What met them next is not a door, nor a dead end but a three-way split of the path.

"Huh." Ellie paused. "That means we'll have to split up, right?"

Bruce peered at each passage, only to be faced by gnawing and ominous darkness. It was possible that there would only be one correct path and the rest were traps or dead ends. But it was also possible that all three were 'correct' and led to different places.

"We can split up," he began slowly, "But we should keep communications open just in case."

Ellie tapped on her 'Fenton phone'. "No problem for me."

The other two heroes had pulled out earpieces of their own from their weapons. "We can connect to your line," said Ryuko. "We'll just have to find it."

"Can you connect to me too?" Ellie watched with curious eyes as the two wore their own (likely magic-driven) comms.

"Of course."

After some final words (Bruce had to keep himself from giving too much advice), they parted ways and faded into the unknown.

---

Five minutes passed and Bruce realized that he was alone again. Perhaps having the others brought a sense of comfort to him, a reminder that they were on a rescue operation together. Now Bruce was somewhat more vulnerable, more untrusting of the shadows that could lurk around. He kept his breaths steady, telling himself that he was going to find his sons soon.

His eye caught a movement up ahead.

Bruce's hand flew to his waist, ready to draw a weapon anytime. He stilled, and waited until the shadow shifted, morphing into a woman with steely eyes and a cold smile directed towards him.

"Hello, Bruce."

"Nyssa." He whispered under his breath. 

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Taglist: @laurcad123

#maribat fanfic #dc x mlb #mlb x dc #maribat #maribat fic #bio dad bruce wayne #dc x miraculous #danny phantom au #dc x danny phantom x miraculous #heirs apparent #triplets dami danny and mari #bruce wayne is so done

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#jason sudeikis #ted lasso #anthony hopkins #my gifs #WHATS SHAKIN T-HOPS #jason really out here wearing a man city hoodie huh

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Seabourne Burnouts: Part 8 - Backstay

A Maribat! on Deck AU

Bless @shewhoridesonrainbows for helping with the chapter name! 

Start [Here] [Part 7] [Part 9]

“Why do you think it’s the Waynes?” Marinette brought her classmates back to her room to set up the living room game room combo in her suite. The group was moving things out of the way of the flat-screen TV to prepare for movies and games for the night ahead of them.

“You can’t tell me you aren’t suspicious of them.” Damian looked around his room for pajamas that would be approved by his brothers. He shook his head and mumbled, “Why am I even going?”

Dick looked up from Damian’s dresser and threw him a green and black pair of pajama pants, shrugging, “Not really, Damian.”

“Why not?!” Alya sounded exasperated as she pushed a loveseat out of the way. “Oh my god, why are there so many things in here?” Chloe snickered at the girl, earning her a playful glare. 

“Maybe because we don’t have any proof.” Tim looked a very annoyed Damian and shook his head, “Too plain.” Damian growled and went back to the bathroom to change.

Alya whined, “There are too many things pointing to that conclusion, though!” Nino rolled his eyes and helped her move a coffee table. “Thanks.” 

“Circumstances. That’s all it is.” Dick handed Damian a plain blue t-shirt, “Why are you so hard to dress?”

Damian glared at Dick, “I am not wearing Nightwing Blue to this stupid sleepover, Grayson.” He threw the t-shirt back and huffed, “That doesn’t mean she isn’t Ladybug. And it doesn’t mean the rest of her friends aren’t a part of it too.”

“Okay, sure. Tim wasn’t around, that makes him a suspect. A lot of people weren’t in that room, does that make them suspects too?” Marinette placed her hands on her hips and looked around the room, “Why are we working so hard on this again?”

“Doesn’t mean we can’t start our investigation with her.” Tim scrolled through Marinette’s Instagram, “Remember to bring up her fashion designs. Get big brownie points.” Damian yanked the phone out of Tim’s hands, “Hey!”

“Listen to yourself, this is a theory!” Chloe wiped her forehead with her and frowned, “If I sweat any more, I’m going to consider this labor and require payment.”

Alya rolled her eyes and brought over some blankets to cover the floor and create some forts, “I have to start somewhere.”

Damian groaned, “No, no you don’t. You don’t have to do anything. At least not tonight. After tonight, give me updates from your investigation.” He put on a dark red shirt and put back on the green sweats, “Now, I’m just giving myself away aren’t I?”

Dick looked him over and smiled, “You look good in those colors though. Stay like that.” Dick walked over and messed around with Damian’s hair, much to his dismay. “Come on, I have to do it.”

“No, you don’t.” Nino walked over and wrapped his arms around his girlfriend, “You just want to.” He sighed, “Why do you care so much anyways? Like, you’ve been talking about this since Batman showed up on the cameras.”

“I care because we’re the underlings of the world’s greatest detective and I want answers.” Damian looked through his drawers and pulled out a red hoodie.

“Oh yeah, ruin thirty minutes of good work with a hoodie.” Dick sighed and shook his head, “You don’t have to be involved in every case, you know?”

“I can’t just leave it though!” Alya felt her patience being tested and walked over to Marinette, “You support me, right?”

Marinette rolled her eyes and smiled, “Of course I do, but I’m not comfortable with you accusing my friends of hiding big secrets like that.”

“They need to hide it though.” Jason sat on Damian’s bed and frowned, “They’re kids. From what I can tell they don’t have a mentor or leader besides her. We have a seasoned Batman, they have no one.”

Damian pinched the bridge of his nose, “That’s a lot of responsibility to just throw on them.”

Adrien scoffed, “You say that as if Bruce Wayne doesn’t have the resources to help be Batman.” After seeing what Damian and Jason in action during the attack, he’s been more than a bit suspicious. Adrien shrugged and walked next to Alya, “I don’t know if you’re right, but I do know something’s up with them. I’m in.”

“Yeah you are!” The two fist bump and Alya held Adrien’s arm up, “Behold peasants! My champion!”

Nino rolled his eyes and kissed Alya’s cheek, “Yeah, sure. Your champion is a kid who was homeschooled all his life with just enough social skill to keep his head above water in public school.” Adrien snorted at the jab and went back to work. Nino thought for a moment, “That must be some standard to hold yourself to, though. I mean, I know the dude has money, but Gotham isn’t exactly the best city. To promise to protect a city like Gotham practically on your own like that must be hard.”

“She’s not alone though, Ladybug has Cat Noir though.” Jason sat back down on the bed and looked at the clock on the bedside desk, “Still, it means she was thirteen when she took up her secret identity. Two kids, no mentor, no prior experience, that’s insane. You can’t expect two kids to be held to that kind of standard.”

“It helps if he set the standard.” Marinette thought back to when she and Adrien first got the Miraculous. They didn’t set their standard, they just worked hard to meet it. “Remember, Bruce had it hard. Harder than most of us.” The room fell silent as they dedicated the moment to Bruce’s parents. Marinette wiped her watering eyes and shook her head, “I need some air. Everything looks fine, you guys should get ready too.”

“You want one of us to come with you?”

Damian looked back at Dick from the room’s entrance and shook his head, “No, I just want to think about this. I do believe she’s Ladybug. If we’re right, then we should be ashamed of ourselves for not involving ourselves sooner. We’ve had training. We’ve had guidance. They got a ring and some earrings. That’s it.” He sighed, “It just upsets me to think she went through all of this, learning as she went. She isn’t like Bruce. Bruce chose that life for himself, he had resources, and he had Alfred. What does she have? A family that probably doesn’t know because what normal family would let their thirteen-year-old daughter fight a magical terrorist. A partner who was just as much an amateur as she was and by the looks of it they don’t know each other’s identities so they can’t support each other out of the mask. And lastly, her wits. Her mind is her greatest asset. The entirety of Paris is dependent on the mind of a teenager.” Damian gripped the door frame, getting more upset as he thought about the situation she’s in, “While I have faith in her ability, Paris is still damned and she’s going to break from the pressure.”

Marinette sighed as she smiled at her friends in a weak attempt to reassure them, “I just don’t like thinking that he went through all that and still became a superhero. It’s too much.” She thought about her own situation and wondered if she was in any position to feel the way she does when there are voluntary superheroes in worse cities than Paris. She knows she shouldn’t compare herself, but she can’t help it when Alya tells her more and more about Gotham’s great bat. She left the group and wandered around the boat, heading back upstairs to the captain’s den. Marinette hoped to see him, or at the very least explore some more and let herself just think. Marinette bumped into someone as she reached the stairway up to the captain’s den, “Oh I’m sorry-”

“Excuse me- Marinette?” She looked up and met a familiar face, “What are you doing here?”

Marinette shrugged, “I wanted to go back to the den and maybe talk to Captain Staller.”

Damian nodded and the two continued moving, “I like that room too. It’s the one place I can gather my thoughts on this ship.”

“What are you thinking about?”

“Mainly? You.” Marinette stared at him wide-eyed and he realized he needed to backtrack, “Referring to dinner.”

Marinette’s face couldn’t get redder, “Oh! Oh, that! Right!” She patted her cheeks in a sad attempt to make the redness go down, “Still think I’m a hero, huh?”

“I’m betting Alya still thinks I’m the son of Batman too?” Marinette sighed, giving him all the confirmation he needed. “Either way, she won’t find anything on Father. Trust me, even Lois Lane barked up that tree.”

“Lois Lane?”

“A famous reporter in America.” Marinette nodded and he hummed, “Doesn’t mean she’s not going to try though.”

“Yeah, she’s determined.”

“So are my brothers.” Damian stopped in front of the door and knocked three times, “Let’s see if we can find the captain.”

Marinette and Damian waited a few moments before the captain opened the door. Seeing Marinette made him smile, “I was wondering when you’d come back.”

She grinned, “Sorry for the wait.” She hugged the man and walked inside, Damian trailing behind her. She walked around the room, “Did you get more?”

The captain walked over to the bar with Damian and Damian poured him a drink. Damian learned what the man’s favorite drink was and would make it for the captain whenever both were in the den as a show of gratitude for allowing him access. The captain took a sip and nodded, “You’re getting better at this.” Damian shrugged and the captain turned back to Marinette, “Get more what?”

“Ships.” She carefully picked one up and rubbed some dust off of it, “Or maybe I just didn’t notice these before.”

Captain Staller put down his drink and walked over Marinette, “That one is my favorite. The oldest in my collection and it was given to me by my niece when she was younger.”

Marinette tensed, “Should I put this back?”

“No! No.” He leaned over her shoulder and pointed at the ship’s side, “S.S. A. Staller. Anne was always cheeky like that.” Marinette smiled at the small detail, completely unaware of the boy watching her from the bar. “She gave this to me when she was thirteen. She told me she spent weeks on it and refused to let anyone forget that.”

“She sounded fun.”

“She was.” He took the bottle from her hand, putting it back in its place on the shelf and grabbing another one. “This is the last one she made me.”

Marinette took the bottle from Captain Staller and took in many details, “This material is different. Better quality.”

“Good eye. What else?”

Marinette turned the bottle carefully, “These sails don’t look like the others. This looks custom.”

“Good. Good. Anything else?” Marinette hummed as she trained her eyes on the smaller details before the captain interrupted her, “Look at the bigger picture, girl.”

She blinked, realizing she was practically holding the bottle to her eye trying to find the little secrets possibly hidden in the model. She looked up at Staller and then noticed Damian snickering. She stuck her tongue out at him and looked back at the bottle, “Oh, it has a different name. S.S. A. Dereon.”

He nodded, “She got married and sent me this as a gift before her honeymoon.” He pointed at the sails, “The sails are made from pieces of her wedding dress.”

Marinette’s eyes lit up and she turned her attention back to the sails, “That’s so sweet.”

The captain nodded before taking the ship and carefully putting it back. He led her back to the bar where Damian already had a sparkling water waiting for her as she sat down, “She was. She was the bottle to my ship.”

Marinette couldn’t help but be confused, “How so?”

The man sighed and took a swig of his drink, “When you throw one of those ships into the sea, what do you think happens?” Marinette shook her head and he smiled wistfully, “The bottle protects the boat from the sea. The bottle will keep the boat intact, providing a safe place for the boat from the chaos from the outside world.”

Marinette watched him carefully and before she could stop and think about her words she asked, “What if the bottle breaks?” The captain set down his glass and the noise sounded loud despite him not using much force, making the two teens tense and bringing Damian’s attention back to the conversation from behind the bar.

Captain Staller thought for a moment, “The bottle may break, that’s right. Without the bottle, the ship is left to its own devices against the raging waters of the sea.” He thought a little more before nodding, “Yes. The ship is left to survive. Sometimes when the bottle breaks, the boat finds itself in a terrible current or storm. Sometimes, those ships are lucky enough to find themselves in calmer waters with gentle waves. Most don’t though.” He took one more drink from the glass before handing it to Damian empty. Damian took the glass from the man’s hands and listened, “All boats are made differently. Some have better quality material while others are made cheap. Some are bigger. Some are made to be better. The boats all have different qualities, but not all will float. Sometimes the better ships on calm waters find themselves with a breach and slowly sink. Sometimes you’ll see a tiny little ship in the middle of a storm fighting to stay afloat. A lot of times, those boats are underwater when the bottle breaks, forcing them to struggle right off the bat.”

Captain Staller sighed, “Not all boats make it. Many are victims of the chaotic world without their bottles, but there are also many who continue to sail on. Despite the breaches, despite the flooding, despite possibly being submerged at some point those ships who have had the most damage to them and still stay above water are to be celebrated for their resiliency. The sea fights to claim as many ships as possible, and someday every ship will have its final journey, but that doesn’t mean those ships should stop trying. Even if their bottle breaks, either by accident or by someone’s hand, ships are made to sail the waters no matter how aggressive the waves are. Will they all make it? No. Will the ones that do be constantly tested by the sea? Absolutely. Will those ships ever stop? Eventually, but eventually is a long way away from today. Today they sail and continue fighting, for the bottle that was broken and to prove to the world that, despite everything, they can still continue.”

The two teens were quiet as they processed the captain’s words. Each wondering if they were in the process of sinking and wondered what it would take to keep from being submerged. Damian was the one to break the silence, “What about you?”  The captain turned to him and he repeated the question, “What about you? You said Anne was your bottle. Are you still sailing?”

The captain thought for a moment before looking at Marinette and smiling, “There are ships fortunate enough to find a kind spirit to repair a few parts to help them stay afloat.” He ruffled Marinette’s loose hair and chuckled, “You send out the same energy Anne did. That definitely helps.”

Marinette smiled, “I’m sorry I’m not Anne.”

“You’re you, that’s all that matters.” He looked between the two teens, “You both lost your bottles.” The two teens tensed and looked startled, but he just waved his hand, “It happens. I lost my bottle too, but you two are faring much better than this old ship.”

Marinette patted the captain’s shoulder, “Don’t say that.”

“You are.” He straightened out his back and, as if to prove his point, his back cracked. “You see, this ship creaks it’s so old.” Marinette giggled and Damian bit his inner cheek to keep from smiling, “It’s okay though. I think both of you hold qualities to repair other people’s ships. Finding each other, despite the distance between your homelands, was not by accident. You two will prove to be very helpful to one another.” The two looked at each other, confused and a bit embarrassed, making the captain laugh. He turned to Damian, “You.” Damian pointed at himself as if to confirm even though he was the only one behind the bar, “I allow you in here is for the same reason. Despite your attitude, you radiate the same kind energy as my Anne.” Damian opened his mouth to protest but the captain held up his hand, “I’m not saying you are as openly affectionate. Your ship is made of hard materials usually made for battleships, odd for a child but undeniable. Still, you still seem to use that material to fight for others and fight for those you care for. You have a kind soul underneath.”

“So do my brothers.”

“Yes, but your brothers are loud and you are not.” Damian couldn’t help but bark out a laugh before covering his mouth and turning to Marinette. She was trying not to laugh, but the smile on her face showed that she was struggling.

Marinette took a few more sips from her drink and stared at her glass, “How do you do it?” Damian and Captain Staller turned to the small girl, “How do you stay afloat even when you feel like you’re being submerged?”

He sighed, “It’s all about inner strength combined with external support. If you have a lot of inner strength you may not need to rely on others as much and vice versa. Sometimes you find that one of those is draining and you need to shift to using the other a bit more for a while. It’s a balance. You don’t want to solely rely on those resources but you don’t want to isolate yourself thinking you can do it all by yourself.” He looked the two once over, “You both seem to be relying on your inner strengths too much. Rely on others and each other for a bit. Recharge. Rest. You’ll float.”

Marinette nodded and sighed before drinking the last bit of her drink, “Okay.”

Damian was snapped out of his thoughts and turned to her, “Okay?”

She nodded, “Okay.” She looked up at him, “We’re friends, right?” Damian nodded, “If I lean on you, you can lean on me. We don’t have long on this trip, but if I can I want to spend more time with you.” He looked surprised and the meaning behind her words caught up with her. Her face heated up and she began rambling, “If you want to! I mean, I just noticed that so far the best times I’ve had so far are with you and your brothers and-”

“Okay.”

“Huh?”

If Damian from a few months ago could time travel and see this moment, he’d slap current Damian. Damian always told people friends were a luxury he couldn’t afford and he hated relying on people. Being with the titans helped, but there was still a part of him that refused to admit it and continued to believe he was better off alone. Now? That part was subdued and he wanted her to lean on him if she chose. “Okay.”

Marinette smiled and nodded, looking much more relieved, “Okay.”

The captain looked between the two in their own little world and chuckled, “I’m glad my ship brought you two together.” The two turned back to the captain and he shook his head, “No, no.” He got up, “Don’t mind me. I need to do some more work. I meant to take a little break and now it’s an hour later.” He stretched his back, causing another crack to resonate in the room, and walked to the exit. “I hope you come back and visit me soon.”

Marinette got up and ran over to hug him, “Of course.”

Captain Staller smiled at her and turned to Damian, “Both of you.” Damian nodded, “Goodnight children.” He left the room and a comfortable silence engulfed the room as Marinette walked back over to her stool while Damian stood behind the bar.

She looked him over and giggled, “Those are your pajamas?”

Damian nodded, “I’m assuming those are yours?”

She stood up and spun around, “Made them myself.”

“They’re very well made, I would’ve thought you bought them.”

“Thank you!” She sat back down and trailed her finger around the rim of the glass cup in front of her, “What are you thinking?”

Damian thought for a moment before answering, “A lot of things now. About my own situation. About yours. A lot I guess.”

“Ah yes, being the sole son of the great Bruce Wayne must be hard.” She thought back to what Tim told her that first night, “You can’t trust many people, can you? There must be a lot of people just trying to use you for your name.”

Damian could’ve laughed. Being Damian Wayne was the easier half of him. It was being Robin that was threatening to sink him. Still, he nodded in response, “Being a superhero must be hard.” She glared at him and he smirked, “I’m joking.” He looked down at his own untouched drink, “Seriously though, Lila must be making things hard for you. Dealing with bullies, social isolation, and trying to stay a good student? Must be hard for you.” Damian didn’t really know what it was like to have those normal issues, but for a normal girl it must be tiring to deal with every day. In the back of his mind came a thought reminding him that she wasn’t normal though.

She nodded and sighed, “Yeah.”

Damian gulped down his own drink and pointed at the clock, “I think they’ll come looking for us again if we don’t head out soon.”

She got up and walked over to the door, “Let’s go.” Damian ran over and side by side the two walked back to Marinette’s room. The two stayed close and, unlike earlier when they were walking to the dining hall, this walk was quiet and comfortably so. The two could feel their arms and hands brush against each other, but neither reacted externally. They just enjoyed the company and were afraid of ruining the walk by doing something. As they turned the corner towards Marinette’s room, Alya ran up and almost crashed into them.

“Oh my god, I almost came looking for you.” She noticed Damian and smiled, “Oh! I mean, we can leave-”

Marinette hissed with a red face, “Alya!”

Alya giggled and motioned for the room, “Come on already. We got room service and now have sweets and movies and games galore.” She looked over Damian, “Have you ever been to a sleepover before?”

Damian frowned, “No.”

Alya’s eyes went wide, “Oh jeez, what is it with you rich kids and not having childhoods?” She grabbed their arms and pulled them to the room, “We have to show Adrien and Damian the sleepover of the ages!”

Seeing the look of apprehension on Damian’s face made Marinette laugh, “She’s just exaggerating. You’ll be fine! Just relax.”

He frowned and sounded tense, “I don’t relax.” Alya opened the doors and led the two the lively den that now had blanket forts and movies playing on the TV.

“I swear Nino if you keep hogging the popcorn I will hurt you.”

“Come on Chloe, we can just order more.”

“Then pick up the phone and order some.”

“Never.”

The three looked back and Adrien waved, “Hey! Join us!”

Nino sat up, “First order some more popcorn!”

Marinette rolled her eyes, “I’m just going to ask them to bring us each our own bowls. I’ll be back.”

As soon as Marinette walked away Damian felt out of his element. Adrien noticed this a motioned for him to sit down next to him, “First sleepover too?”

Damian crawled into the makeshift fort and sat next to the blond boy, “Yes, although I doubt we’re missing too much.”

“What? Oh no, no, no, no, no! You did not just say that.” Chloe crawled over and placed her hands on Damian’s shoulders and forced him to look at her, “You are about to experience the joys of trying to stay awake for as long as possible with tolerable people. Everything that happens in the room stays in the room and as the night goes on we will have confessionals.”

Damian took her hands off his shoulders, “Confessionals?”

Nino nodded, “Truth or dare.”

Damian groaned, “I refuse to take part of a movie trope.”

Adrien shrugged, “It’s a trope for a reason. It’s fun and helps you learn about those around you.” He sent Damian a reassuring smile, “Nothing bad. Most you’ll have to do is karaoke with this group.”

Damian scowled, “I don’t sing.”

“You will when we dare you to.” Chloe sat back down in her original spot, grabbing the popcorn out of Nino’s grasp on the way back. “You are with us now. I don’t know what your parents allowed or didn’t allow, but considering you and Adrien both don’t know what it’s like to have a sleep over it’s our personal duty to make sure this happens.” She smirked, “So where were you and Marinette anyway?” The three in the room all turned to Damian, expecting an answer, but Alya and Marinette walked back into the room.

“Okay Marinette ordered and I changed so we are good to go!” Alya looked around the room, “What’d we miss?”

Adrien shrugged, “Nothing outside the usual.”

Alya’s face deadpanned, “Did she vow to Damian-”

“-to make sure he experiences a great first sleepover, yes.” Adrien laughed, “It’s sweet though.” He looked over at Chloe who had her eyes glued to the screen and scarfing down the popcorn, “If it’s not a good first sleepover, I’m telling my father.”

Chloe snorted, “Yeah right, like your dad is going to get any leeway with my mother. Daddy maybe, but my mother is a whole different story.”

Adrien nodded, “True.”

Marinette and Alya crawled into the blanket fort with their friends, Alya sat next to Nino and Marinette sat between Chloe and Damian. “What are we watching anyway?”

Chloe threw some popcorn at Marinette, “Horror movie, hush.”

Marinette rolled her eyes and picked up some of the popcorn to munch on. “Oh my god this is good popcorn.”

Chloe threw a bit more, hitting both Marinette and Damian, “Yes it is and I’m not sharing. Now hush.” Marinette rolled her eyes and looked back at Damian, picking out a piece of popcorn sitting on top of his hoodie and throwing it in her mouth. She giggled at his confused reaction and continued to eat the popcorn Chloe threw them.

Within the walls of the dark den, the six kids were entranced by the screen. Most kids were in between being unable to watch and being unable to look away. The only exceptions were Alya and Damian who were making bets on who would survive.

“Final girl always wins.”

“Yes, but there are two final girl contestants here! Plus, there’s a kid!”

“Alya, Damian, I swear-”

The door behind them burst open with a kick and the six screamed and scrambled as far away as possible. The five classmates all fell into their own defensive stances while Damian grabbed the nearest thing not bolted to the ground, in his case a vase, and threw it at the figure in the doorway. The figure dodged it and turned on the light, “What the hell was that for?”

The six sighed in relief, “Oh my god, Jason you scared us.”

Jason shrugged, “Serves you right for watching horror movies late at night.” He looked at the screen, “I approve though.” He pulled in a cart of snacks, mainly popcorn, “But I’m here to make a delivery and check in on Bruce’s request.”

Damian growled, “We’re fine. Now please tell me the other two aren’t here.”

Dick ran into the room and threw a pillow from Marinette’s bed at his brother, who easily caught it, “Rude!” He crossed his arms, “Here we are, wondering how our near and dear baby brother is doing at his first sleepover and this is how you repay us?”

Tim walked in after Dick and shook his head at the broken vase, “I told you to knock.”

“More fun my way.”

Chloe frowned and walked over to the cart, taking the biggest bowl of popcorn and returning to her seat. “Turn the lights off already.”

Marinette rolled her eyes and walked over to the three brothers, “You guys joining us then?”

“No!” Damian walked over, “You were not invited and if you guys stay here I will leave.”

Dick smirked, “This coming from the kid who didn’t even want to come.”

Damian frowned, “Well I’m here now and not hating it so go!”

Jason walked over and sat next to Adrien, “Shut up I like this movie.” Adrien offered some of his popcorn and Jason happily took a bit.

Tim and Dick pushed their way through and before Damian could yell, Dick held up his hand, “We want to watch the movie. We’ll leave later, okay?” Damian was not satisfied with these terms, knowing them they’d stay the night and he would rather not have his first normal interaction with a group of kids his age be ruined by them. Still, Marinette motioned for them to sit wherever, grabbing some snacks and nudging Damian to follow her back to their seats. Damian realized there was only so much he could do against the group and reluctantly went back to his seat next to Marinette. She handed him his own bowl of popcorn and he graciously took it, continuing to enjoy the flick.

There were some screams, mainly by Tim, but overall the group decided to continue their horror movie night. As the night went on and the movies got worse, the group began talking over the flicks and move into what Chloe referred to as ‘confessionals’. 

Marinette sat up and held up her hands, “Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait! Dick has a long-term girlfriend and you didn’t bring her?”

Chloe scoffed, “Divorce.”

“We aren’t even married.”

Alya snickered, “She’s right. Divorce!”

Dick pouted and crossed his arms, “It’s not my decision to make. Bruce wanted this to be a family trip, no one else.”

Adrien stuffed some more popcorn in his mouth, “Why?”

Dick briefly looked over at Damian before shrugging, “Family vacation I guess.”

Jason ate some of the candy from the cart and shrugged, “Kory still should’ve come.”

Marinette perked up, “Oh, so her name is Kory?” She smiled, “Nickname?” Dick nodded and she whined, “Alya why can’t I find that?”

Alya pushed her friend over onto the pillows surrounding them, “Girl, you know how many guys threw themselves at you?”

She rolled onto her back and blew some hair out of her face, “They did not.”

Alya was not amused, “Nathaniel?”

“Akumatized and now with Marc.”

Adrien jumped in, “Luka?”

“He’s with Kagami and happier than ever.”

Nino raised his hand, “Me?”

“You and Alya are perfect for each other.”

Chloe scoffed, “Kim?”

“Kim did not like me!”

Alya rolled her eyes, “Face it. You happen to be a really good matchmaker, just not for yourself. You’ve had your chances, but you keep pushing them to who you think is ‘better’.”

Marinette sat up, “Because they were better. They’re happy aren’t they?”

“But are you?” Marinette turned her head to Tim who shrugged, “You want a relationship but you push it away when possible. Sounds to me like you don’t think you’d be a good partner. Not that there’s someone better.”

Marinette huffed and hugged a nearby pillow, “They are better.”

Dick sighed, “Alright, alright. Let it go.” Tim was about to open his mouth but was stopped by a pillow hitting his face, “I said let it go.”

Tim threw a pillow straight back at him, only for Dick to catch it midair, “Show off.”

Chloe turned to the boys and hummed, “You guys seem very coordinated. Damian caught a pillow too earlier.”

Damian shrugged, “Years of practice living with each other I guess.”  

Alya nodded, “I can vogue for that. After babysitting my sisters I have wicked reflexes for anything aimed at my face.”

Dick laughed, “Sucks being the oldest, doesn’t it?”

Alya shook her head, “I’m not the oldest actually. My big sister is a wrestler.”

“Sweet.” Jason high-fived Alya and nudged Dick, “No one can relate to being the oldest but you.”

“I can.” Nino raised his hand and shrugged, “I’m the oldest in my family. I have a younger brother.”

Tim looked around, “Are the rest of you only childs then?” The remaining three nodded and Tim wore an expression of wonder and joy, “Oh my god, how is that like?”

“Lonely.”

“Boring.”

“I get whatever I want.”

Marinette sighed, “I kind of wish I had an older brother or sister though.”

Damian shook his head, “No. No you don’t.” The three older brothers all stuck their tongue at him and he rolled his eyes, “For a while I grew up an only child.”

“Really? How?”

“I lived with my mother until I was ten and then she passed me over to Father.”

Dick snorted, “Remember what Bruce said about the first thing you told him?”

Tim smiled, “I’ll be Damian!” He cleared his throat and sat up, crossing his arms and looking slightly annoyed. “Don’t be so surprised Father. I thought you’d be taller.”

The group laughed at Damian’s expense as he frowned and glared at Tim. Jason shook his head, “I can’t believe you’re forgetting the best part though.” He cleared his throat and looked at Dick who nodded and did the same, knowing exactly what he’s talking about. “I’ll drive.”

“No.”

“I know how.”

“No.”

Marinette bit her lip to keep from laughing, “How? How would a ten year old know how to drive?”

Damian grabbed the pillow out of Marinette’s arms and threw it at his laughing brothers, “You know, I don’t appreciate you telling these people I just met my life story.”

Dick sighed, “We’re not saying everything. Just some of the funnier parts. That’s part of a sleepover, kid. Story-telling.”

Chloe giggled, “We can tell you some great Marinette ones if you’d like.”

An almost unanimous “Yes!” with one weak “No!” resonated in the room. Alya smirked, “Sorry girl, but as per tradition and because you are the hostess it is only fair we do this.”

“That doesn’t make any sense!”

“Doesn’t have to. I’m getting tired and the people have the right to know.” Alya expertly dodged the candy thrown at her head and turned to the boys, “Okay, let me just start off by saying our dear Marinette hear is a walking accident waiting to happen.” Marinette groaned and fell back, covering her ears. “So not only will she be consistently late to class, she has an 80% chance of falling on the way into the actual classroom. If this was a few months ago, 95% if Adrien looked at her.”

“Alya, remember I know where you live.”

Dick snickered, “You had a pretty big crush on Adrien. What changed?”

Marinette propped herself up on her arms and looked over at Adrien, “I guess I just got over it? After Lila came along, it was hard to keep in touch with a lot of you. I guess growing apart just helped me let go of it.”

Adrien shrugged, “I’m happy with where we are now though.”

Marinette smirked, “Yeah, dodged a bullet dating a nerd like you.” Adrien threw some popcorn in her direction and she laughed, “No, but seriously. I just grew out of it I guess.”

Damian frowned, “Is he the reason why you let go of so many other guys?”

Marinette was surprised at the question but nodded, “Yeah. I didn’t feel right trying to go for someone else when I liked Adrien as much as I did. I guess I’m an all or nothing kind of person.”

Tim nodded, “See? Now that is a better reason than thinking someone else is better.” Tim sighed, “Sucks though, you missed a lot of opportunities.”

Marinette shrugged, “I’m hopeful that the right person will come around.”

Alya caught Damian’s eye and she wiggled her eyebrows at him, causing him to roll his eyes. Alya let out an exaggerated sigh, “Ah, yes. Who will ever take our sweet Marinette? She’s chased off all her suitors.”

“You’ve been watching too many westerns at Nino’s again.”

“Not my fault his brother went through a cowboy phase.”

Nino tipped his cap and winked, “Not my usual style, but playing sheriff was fun.”

Dick smiled, “Damian, remember when it was just you and me for a bit?”

Damian rubbed his temples, “Sadly.”

Chloe smirked, “Oh come on it couldn’t have been that bad.”

“You don’t know how annoying Grayson can be when he wants to be.”

“Same goes to you, Damian. As I recall, you had quite the superiority complex when we first met.”

Adrien turned to Damian, “Really? You seem pretty calm.”

Jason barked out a laugh, “That’s because the only emotion that kid knows how to express is anger. Trust me, piss him off and he’ll lose his cool like that!”

Jason snapped and Damian crossed his arms, “Keep talking and everyone’s going to see how bad I can get.”

Tim put his hands up, “No need! We’re completely cool with you not having a meltdown.”

“I do not ‘meltdown’!”

“You’re right, he throws tantrums.”

Marinette, clearly seeing how annoyed Damian was getting, stepped in, “I think it’s safe to say we all have our faults.”

Damian glared at his brothers, “Some more than others.”

Adrien laughed, “You know, even watching you guys argue makes me wish I had siblings. Would make my house actually feel more alive.”

Chloe shook her head, “Oh no. No way, I’m okay with being an only child and having friends. I could not deal with some kid trying to get my attention all the time.”

“So you finally learned to empathize with your dad, Chloe?” Chloe sent a glare at Alya who just laughed, “Joking! Joking! You know your dad loves you.” Chloe nodded, satisfied with the statement and Alya smiled. “You know, it’s weird. I never would’ve thought this would happen.”

Adrien sighed, “Me either, but I’m glad it is. I’m having fun.”

Marinette nodded, “It’s nice. A huge improvement from last night too.” The group all murmured agreements to her statement, all wishing they could forget the bad parts of that night. Marinette yawned, “What time is it?”

Dick looked at his phone and frowned, “You don’t want to know.”

“That late?”

“Yeah.”

Chloe got up and stretched, “Alright then, girls will take the bed and boys can sleep on the floor with the extra blankets.

Adrien nodded and sat up too, “Okay, Nino, Damian and I can clean up around here and head into the main bedroom when we’re done.” Chloe nodded and motioned for the other two girls to follow.

Marinette stopped and looked at the three older brothers, “Are you guys going to sleep here too? I don’t know if we have enough blankets for you guys.”

Dick shook his head, “No. If Damian’s glare is telling me anything, it’s that we’ve overstayed our welcome.” Marinette turned to Damian and, sure enough, he was staring his brothers down.

She shook her head and laughed, “Never a dull moment with you guys, huh?”

Jason got up and nudged her, “Nope.”

“Still think I’m Ladybug?”

“Yup.”

Marinette rolled her eyes and motioned for the three to follow her, “Come on, I’ll walk you guys out.” The night went on as expected, the three eldest Waynes left, the girls all sleep together on Marinette’s bed, and the three boys were sleeping on the floor with all the extra blankets. 

Still, Marinette found herself waking up periodically, tossing and turning. She was getting more and more frustrated until she decided she needed a walk. She carefully crawled over the sleeping girls and off the bed, tiptoeing her way out of the room and shutting the door behind her. She walked to the nearest railing, not touching it but looking out at the sea surrounding them. She could see the coastline and the small city, briefly trying to picture what it would look like once they docked.

“So do you make a habit of this?” She turned her head to the boy walking up to her, “We’re there to keep an eye on you and make sure you aren’t by yourself and then you wander off in the middle of the night? I know you’re smarter than that.”

Marinette shook her head and turned back to the water, “I couldn’t sleep.” She heard him walk up beside her and the two stood there in silence looking over the sea. Eventually she quietly asked, “Do you really think I could be Ladybug?”

Damian nodded, keeping his eyes trained over the rails, “I think you’re as good of a candidate as any.”

“You haven’t even been to Paris. There are a lot of other people.”

“Maybe, but those people aren’t you.” Marinette turned to face Damian, watching him ponder over his next words, “I’m sorry you’ve been going through this.”

“I’m not-”

He turned to her, finally meeting her gaze and any words she wanted to say died in her mouth, “You say you hate liars, but you probably have the biggest lie to hide out of anyone.”

Marinette looked away, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I can tell something’s up.”

“You don’t get it.” She sighed, “Hawkmoth gets into people’s heads. If he akumatizes someone who thinks they know Ladybug’s identity, what do you think will happen?” Her expression became more serious as she looked back up at him, “Get it out of your head. I’m not Ladybug.”

Damian frowned, “Was it hard?”

“Was what hard?”

“Being on your own like that? Do you have anyone to talk to? Does he know?”

She paused for a moment and shook her head, sighing, “I can’t have this conversation.”

Damian asked again, his stern tone demanding a response, “Does Cat Noir know?”

“Know what?” Marinette glared at him and her voice was cold, “I don’t know Cat Noir. Cat Noir wouldn’t know me because we don’t interact. I am not Ladybug!”

Damian didn’t flinch, “You don’t have to lie to me. I won’t tell my brothers if you don’t want me to. Still, I should tell you that Tim is a great detective and Jason is stubborn. They’ll find out and tell everyone they were right unless you tell them yourself and ask them to stay quiet.” Marinette didn’t respond and he felt pity, “It’s okay-”

“What about this is okay?!” Marinette clenched her fists at her sides and could feel herself losing her temper, “What about any of it is okay, Damian?! The heroes of Paris were young and inexperienced when they started! They didn’t get any help and when they did it was just more kids! Ladybug and Cat Noir have to show up anytime someone has a negative emotion! How does anyone expect someone to live like that?!” Marinette took a shaky breath and felt body shaking, “I mean, they’re kids! I know there isn’t any concrete proof, but it’s obvious! Especially after Chloe became Queen Bee, it made it more obvious that they were all kids! They all look young!” She shook her head and held herself, “How is that fair? I know people in America choose to be heroes. They choose to use their powers for good and while I don’t have any doubts that their hearts are in the right place, how do you expect to put that kind of responsibility on a kid? They can’t tell anyone! They can’t talk to anyone!” The shaking grew more violent and her next words came out weak but forced, “That has to be so much for a couple of kids. And Ladybug? If she fails, everything is done for. All damage becomes permanent. Paris will fall.”

Damian didn’t really know how to answer her. He knew only about another hero in her position, Shazam, but he at least had people to depend on.  People who knew. Sometimes his friends shared his power and helped. Ladybug didn’t have that luxury. He just watched her retreat further into herself and they stood in silence until she leaned onto him. Before he could say anything, she weakly pleaded, “Let me lean on you, okay?”

Damian relaxed and let her lean on him, “Okay.” Damian now knew for a fact that she was Ladybug. He wondered if he had any right to complain about his situation now. She was by herself and holding it all in. She was right, too. If she failed, Paris would fall. Cat Noir could fight, but without the Miraculous Cure the damage would be too much. He briefly wondered how the cities back in the US were still standing after all the damage they’ve sustained. Still, he had his brothers and the Titans, Batman had the Justice League, but she didn’t have other team members who could share the burden of being Ladybug. While the League could send other heroes to other cities when needed, Paris specifically needed their Ladybug and her magic. She might have Cat Noir, but Cat Noir doesn’t have her powers. He can’t purify and he can’t heal.

He looked down at the girl and frowned, “Do you need anything from me?”

She shook her head and let out a bittersweet laugh, “I’m the worst.” She sniffed, “I should be better than this. I should have a better handle on this. I shouldn’t be like this.” She wiped her eyes, “I don’t want to cry anymore.”

Damian sighed, “It’s not good to keep it in though. That’s how you burn out.”

“How does Bruce do it?”

“Do what?”

“Fight crime.” Damian thought for a moment and bit his tongue, wanting to just talk but not willing to out his father’s identity. She sniffed and wiped her eyes, “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” She pulled away and looked up at him, “What are you going to do now?”

Damian had all the confirmation he needed, she didn’t need to say it he knew by her frustrations. Still, he couldn’t bring it in him to just go and tell his brothers without her permission. She didn’t do anything wrong by him or his family, she was here needing just as much as a getaway as he did. “Nothing if you don’t want me to.”

She sighed and leaned her forehead on his shoulder, “God, why am I so tired?”

“Probably because you haven’t slept that well in the three days we’ve been here.”

She smiled, “It’s only been three days? It feels like weeks.”

Damian nodded, “Yeah.” Damian nudged her and she looked back up at him, “Let’s go back to sleep.”

She frowned and groaned, “Great. Dick’s seen me have an emotional breakdown and now you’ve seen me have a nervous breakdown.” She hit her head against his arm, “I’m a mess.”

“Wait, what happened with Dick?”

She shook her head, “Don’t worry about it. Just know I ruined one of his t-shirts with my tears and now I have to make him a new shirt. That reminds me, I need to get material and a sewing machine in town tomorrow.” She thought aloud to herself, “And the design, what am I going to design?”

Damian smirked, “He really likes Nightwing back in Gotham. Make him a Nightwing themed shirt and I promise he’ll be speechless.”

She looked up at him and smiled, “You think?”

“I know.” He chuckled, “Just make sure I’m there when you give it to him.”

Marinette frowned, “Why do I get the feeling you’re going to enjoy that a little too much?”

“Because I will.”

Marinette snorted and then switched to a more somber tone, “Must be nice having people in your life like that.”

“Yeah, they’re insufferable, but they’re good people and I can count on them when need be.” Damian sighed and leaned against the railing, “They still give me gray hairs, though.”

Marinette grinned, “Careful, your inner old man is coming out. You want some tapioca?”

“Shut up.” He nudged her again and she giggled, “Well, looks like you’re in a better mood.”

She hummed, “I guess so.”

“Venting helps.”

“Yeah, it did.”

“You want to go back to sleep?”

Marinette yawned and shook her head, “No.”

“Still a bad liar.”

“You know you can vent to me too right?” He looked her over and she shrugged, “I get that you don’t open up as easily as I do, but I can tell you that I’m a good listener. Whenever you decide to talk to me, I’ll be here.”

He sighed and shook his head, “You’ve cried almost every night since boarding and you’re still going to offer yourself up like that? Is that even healthy?”

“I’m offering because I want to.”

He frowned, “You need to take care of yourself first.”

“Hey remember what the captain said, we need to lean on each other. You agreed.” She smiled, “You know something weird?”

“What?”

“This is the most I’ve felt in a while.” He sent her a confused look and she took it as a cue to go into more detail, “Back in Paris, I think I just became numb. I tried not to feel anything out of fear of an akuma.”

“You tried not to do anything either by the looks of it.”

She frowned, “Adrien once told me to take the high road. That outing her as a liar wouldn’t help anyone and it’d only put her in a worse position. So I did because it was okay if he knew too. At least, that’s what I thought.” She thought back, “She’s done nothing but take my friends away. Lila pulled Adrien away from me, too. She tried to lie about me a few times to make me look bad, and Adrien did help with those times, but she just kept doing it again and again. She didn’t learn and she wasn’t satisfied. Even when she had the whole class wrapped around her finger, she still wouldn’t stop because I wouldn’t follow.”

“She wanted full control of the school.”

“Exactly. At this point, I don’t know if anyone would even believe me this has gone on for so long.” She smiled, “Winning this trip was me taking the first step to getting a better handle on things. I just wanted my friends back and so far I think it’s worked. Alya’s hanging out with me. Nino too. Others are talking to me more.” She sighed, “But then there’s Lila. I don’t know what it is but she makes me panic. I don’t panic like I do when she’s around.” She ran her fingers through her hair, “She just makes me feel-“

“Weak.”

She nodded, “Yeah, because I can’t do anything. She allows herself to be akumatized and hates the heroes with a passion. She would be the perfect Akuma and I’m trying to avoid being the cause of that.”

Damian sighed, “Sounds like you’ve been put between a rock and a hard place. Either you out her and cause an Akuma or you leave her alone and you continue getting bullied.” He hummed, “Even if you defeat her she seems the type to hold a grudge. She’d just get akumatized again.”

She nodded, “Yup. So it’s easier to just let things be.”

“Doesn’t make it right.”

She sighed, “No. No it doesn’t.”

Damian sympathized with her, she really couldn’t just out Lila on her lies because having a spiteful, emotional teen girl come back to Paris after Marinette in particular would be less than desirable. “You know it might be good to at least tell Alya and Nino. Adrien seems to know and, despite his terrible advice, has enough sense not to humor the girl unless necessary. Chloe seems to distrust her too, so you have her. Still, Alya is your best friend and Nino is your oldest friend. It’d be good to have them on your side.”

“And when Lila notices that Alya stopped hanging out with her?”

“Alya will just have to tell her that she has other friends. You can’t monopolize someone’s time like that.” Damian yawned and rubbed his eyes, “Oh great now I’m tired.”

Marinette tried to hide her smile, “Uh oh, your human is showing.”

“You’re just saying that because of my brothers.”

She poked his cheek, “Yup.” Her expression softened, “You know you’re easy to talk to when you let your walls down.”

“I’ll have to kill you if you let anyone know.”

Marinette snorted, “Yeah, right.”

Damian rolled his eyes, “Come on. We need to get back before anyone gets back.”

Marinette groaned, “Can’t we just stay like this?” Damian turned to her and his confusion made her laugh, “I mean, it’s nice. It’s cold but nice. Talking to you really helped. Plus, I don’t have to worry about anyone barging in since it’s so late.” She sighed and finally let herself lean on the boat’s railing, “It’s like a temporary bottle.”

“All bottles break.”

“But I don’t want to be the one to break it.” She didn’t want to look down so she kept looking straight ahead, “I haven’t felt this calm in such a long time.”

Damian sighed and took his place next to her, “I can relate to that, at least. I’ll admit, the school and social stuff are out of my expertise.”

“Well, you’ve been doing okay so far.”

Damian smirked, “Me threatening my brothers in front of you guys is okay?”

“You should be around when Chloe is having a bad day. She threatens to use Queen Bee’s venom on us at least once a week.”

Damian nodded, “Sounds like her.”

Marinette smiled and nudged him, “So you have been bonding.”

“I’ll deny it if you tell anyone.”

Marinette hummed and nodded, “Your secret’s safe with me.”

Damian nodded and jokingly replied, “Yours is safe with me too, Ladybug.”

Damian expected her to get annoyed at him, what he didn’t expect is for her to lay her head on his shoulder and for her to softly hum in approval. He tensed up at the sudden contact, but soon yawned and relaxed against her. He wondered if this was normal or if she was just this expressive. Or maybe it was weird for him to let her do this? Was she even in the right mindset? Was he? He sighed and hung his head, “What?”

“I’m thinking.”

“About?”

“This.”

“Oh.” She pulled away and stretched, “I’m sorry.”

Damian shrugged, “I’m not used to this. If I was the person I was a few months ago I would never let this happen. I don’t think I’d be so keen on any of this.”

“What changed?”

He shook his head, “I guess I did.” There was a heavy pause, he knew she wanted to pry but she wasn’t as forward as he was with the questions. Damian looked at her thinking over what to say next, “What?”

“I just realized I don’t know you that well.”

“You just realized that?”

Marinette paused before asking, “Will I ever get to know you?”

Damian was surprised by her question and realized if he were to answer honestly he wouldn’t have one for her, so he said, “I don’t know.”

Marinette sighed and shrugged, “I want to.”

Damian shook his head, “No. You really don’t. I have still have a lot of skeletons in my closet and I’m not planning on taking them out anytime soon.”

Marinette hummed, “A little unfair, don’t you think?”

“What is?”

“You know so much about me and it’s only been a few days, but I don’t know you at all.”

He shrugged, “I have a lot to hide.”

“So do I.”

He frowned, realizing what position he put himself in. If she wasn’t cautious around him, he could go off and tell his brothers that she was Ladybug. While he liked control he didn’t need her to feel like she was being blackmailed. He sighed, debating if she was worth telling her anything. He looked her over one more time, she was small, vulnerable, and didn’t have a spiteful bone in her body. He had no doubt she would keep a big secret, but which one could he tell her? He had too many and he didn’t need to put another person through that. 

Damian closed his eyes and took a deep breath, “On my mother’s side I was trained from the day I could walk to be the new head of the family.” He opened his eyes and realized he had her full attention, “Her and my grandfather put me through harsh challenges to make sure I was the best of the best. It was supposed to be us three leading our family against the world.” He frowned, “Then my grandfather died.”

Marinette didn’t want to interrupt him, despite wanting to react. Damian turned to her and his shoulders fell, “That’s around the time my mother sent me to my father. We didn’t get off on the best foot. I didn’t make a good impression on any of them. If I wasn’t my father’s son then I don’t think they would’ve dealt with me. I put my father in an awkward position, I hurt my brothers, and I ran away a lot. Still, Grayson, Father, and the others kept me around.” He scowled, “I wasn’t a good person. My mother and grandfather made me into something they could use but didn’t teach me about people. I didn’t have a normal childhood and it’s probably why I am the way I am now.” He thought for a moment before admitting, “I’m grateful for where I am now, I feel useful. Still, I don’t think I’ll ever be a normal kid. I grew up too fast, put through too much, and now I’m exhausted by it all.”

His chuckle had a bitter undertone to it, “I was put on a team at Grayson’s request. It helped, I’ll admit. Working with other people like me helped, but I’m wearing down. Our leader saw it first and told Father. Father asked me to return and I guess he thought I was so bad that he contacted my brothers and told us we were all going on a trip. Now, we’re here because I can’t hold myself together.”

There was a moment of silence as Marinette processed his story. “That must’ve been so hard.” She thinks about the standards Paris set of her and how similar he must’ve felt when his mother and grandfather set those standards for him. He was even younger than her too. “Do you think being on the ship has helped?”

“I don’t know. Maybe if we ever get a calm day it might.” She laughed and he smirked, “Are we good now?”

She smiled and nodded, “We are. I just wish I could help.”

“Honestly, I’ve only ever told my father that. I think telling someone outside the family helped.”

“Then I’m glad.” She yawned, “Okay, now I think I’m tired enough to go back.”

Damian smirked, “You look like you’re about to drop dead.”

“Thanks, I think the key is not sleeping well for half a week.”

Damian grinned and shook his head, “Come on already. Let’s get you back already. I’m pretty sure we only have like 2 more hours of sleep.”

She groaned, “Please don’t say that!”

“Not my fault you’re an insomniac.”

She pushed him playfully, “Come on. I have to sneak back on the bed and I don’t know if I can do that. Knowing those two, they probably spread out over the empty space.”

“Sucks for you.”

Marinette yawned, “Hey Damian?”

“Yeah?”

“You promise you won’t say anything, right?”

Damian nodded, “Of course.”

She smiled, “Okay. I want to talk to you more. Is that okay?”

Damian snorted at her question, she asked like a child asking for permission to do something questionable, “Yeah, I think I can make that work.”

*******************************************************************************************

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[gothambydaylight]

home

//OOC it’s called home for lack of a better title, but oh well, you win some, you lose some. have a fic explaining why duke’s been off tumblr recently!

Duke shoved his hands in his pockets, leaning against the train’s wall. There was no one else on the train, but his legs ached for activity when he sat, so he stood.

Tim was gone. Duke didn’t know how to feel about that. He wanted to encourage it, he wanted to let Tim escape and heal and let the drama die down, but… 

He looked up, staring through the windows. Duke had known and loved Gotham City all his life. Even through the supervillain attacks, even through losing his parents, even though the other cities seemed so much safer and friendlier, Gotham was his home. 

Pushing himself off the wall, he walked over to the window, careful not to lose his balance. The sun was still high in the sky, and light still drifted into the train. Duke let it warm his face for a moment before turning away, blinking rapidly.

He didn’t understand how Tim could leave Gotham. Maybe it was a rich kid thing, where you don’t grow attached to how little weeds sprouted in the cracks of the cobblestone in narrow alleyways. It would only be for a little while, Tim told him, but Duke would lose himself if he left.

And Steph wasn’t leaving, but it felt like she was. Duke chewed the inside of his cheek, remembering how Steph had blown up at everybody, how Tim and Steph had blown up at each other. Cass hadn’t said anything on the group chat for a while, Barbara shut down, Jason was dealing with his own problems, and Tim and Steph were still fighting.

He joined this family less than a year ago, and already it felt like it was falling apart.

                                                          *

His phone buzzed as he walked in, but Duke turned it off. He glanced at the warden with wide eyes. 

“Hey, kid,” the warden said, his eyes crinkling as he smiled. “Hell of a time to be visiting your parents, huh?”

Duke tried to smile back at the warden, but his smile kept faltering. “Yeah,” he said instead. “Can—can you just take me to them, please? Not having the best day.”

The warden scrutinized him, glancing up then down. “You sure this is what you need then?”

Duke swallowed bile and nodded. 

“...Okay.”

He flinched at the sounds of giggling coming from every bed, but it evolved into a full-body wince once he saw his parents.

They wore permanent grins, saliva dripping down their cheeks because they couldn’t close their damn mouths to stop snorting for just a few seconds. This was what it was like every time he visited.

“Mom?” Duke called softly. “Dad? It’s me, Duke. I’m here.”

His dad latched onto his shoulder, his eyes red and veiny, still laughing to himself. Instinctively, Duke threw his hand off. It was easier than he’d thought—his dad had lost even more weight. 

While his mom’s laugh grew into a full out cackle, his dad collapsed onto the floor. Duke sucked in a breath and dropped down as well, looking to lift his dad up. “Please, Dad,” he murmured. “C’mon, Dad, you gotta get up. Get on the bed.”

The only response he got was chuckles.

Duke took on the responsibility of heaving his dad up himself. He dragged his dad up and plopped him down on the bed, promptly slumping down on the chair across from him. 

He closed his eyes, breathing in and out, accompanied by that dreadful laughter that made his insides seize up. 

They’d been like this for months, and even from the very beginning, doctors speculated that heavy exposure to this strain of Joker gas would cause permanent damage. They weren’t getting better. 

Duke crumpled in on himself, holding his head in his hands. His parents were lost. His new family was falling apart. He glanced at his parents, still snorting themselves silly. 

He ran. Past the warden’s pitying face, out the doors, and away.

He missed the train. Duke took a shaky breath. He could get back to the manor by foot, he knew the way.

The sun lowered with every passing second, and as consequence, the light slipped away. Duke squinted and let his photokinetic vision—which is what Bruce called it, he was still trying to think of a better one—take over. He counted the light particles to ground himself. 

And just because, Duke played around with his vision, his ability to see where light was and will be. 

A woman stumbled into the alleyway beside him, pushed by a gruff-looking older white man. Duke’s eyes narrowed.

He turned around and punched the guy, letting out a hiss of pain when the guy’s muscles turned out to be rock hard. Shit. 

Duke made eye contact with the lady and jerked his head in the opposite direction as the guy growled and lifted him without breaking a sweat. “Run!” he commanded. 

Okay, okay, what would Bruce tell me to do? Duke asked himself, now staring into the bulging eyes of a man who could snap him in half. 

He kicked, aiming for a cheap shot. 

It worked, with the huge guy dropping him. However, getting dropped onto gravel hurt, and why the hell had he decided to wear short sleeves today. 

The guy was still doubled over in pain. Duke glanced at him and the woman who was running away slowly in heels, at the distance between them. And he thought of going back to the manor, the one that almost started feeling like home but now felt like a death sentence in a game of tug-of-war. 

Duke punched the guy’s nose.

                                                          *

“Hey Riko, what’s up?” one Isabella Ortiz asked, lounging on a chair and holding her phone to her ear.

“Have you heard from Duke?”

Izzy scoffed. “What, you think ‘cause we were a thing for a couple weeks I have trackers on him?”

“No,” Riko said, worry pervading her tone. “No, I mean I haven’t heard from him since, um. Yesterday, I think. And I checked his Tumblr,”—Izzy still thought Tumblr was a dumb idea; the Waynes coming together whether online or physically always seemed to be a dumb idea—“and the last thing he posted was about going to see his parents. At the psychiatric ward.”

Izzy’s eyebrow creased as she recalled Duke coming to her about his parents the first time, frustrated and upset. He usually only visited twice a month, and stayed in a funk for a little while afterwards. She was planning to go with him next week, for moral support.

He visited early?

“Check the other Tumblrs,” Izzy said, sitting straight up. “I think something’s wrong.”

“I know something’s wrong!” Riko exclaimed. “I just have a really bad feeling about all of this.”

Izzy stood, throwing on a cap and hoodie. She decided on her Robin cap, just in case. “Tell me on the way. I’m gonna head over there, try to find him and talk to him.”

She heard sounds of frantic typing from Riko’s end and adjusted her cap. 

If Duke was hurt by them, Izzy would willingly beat the shit out of all those goddamned Waynes. 

                                                          *

Duke leaned against a wall, gingerly touching his freshly swollen black eye. Yeah, okay, maybe he told Tim he could take on a couple punks from West Robinson, but for whatever reason, these guys were out in packs. They were sneaking out, and Duke saw them, and he laughed to himself and shouted at them, and… yeah, it didn’t go well.

He panted, the adrenaline making his head spin. He closed his eyes and let the coolness of the dark calm him. 

This was fine, this was fine, he would be back at the manor in no time at all.

“Hey!”

Duke clenched his bruised fists and, with another sharp intake of breath, slung them at—

Air. Air that happened to have Izzy beside it. 

Oh, shit.

He tried to grin at Izzy, but the pain from his split lip flared up. “...Uh,” was all he managed to get out.

Izzy’s eyes were wide, taking him in. “Duke Thomas, you’re a fucking idiot,” she said finally in deadpan tone. Her expression and the way she reached down to keep him steady betrayed her true feelings.

“I was heading home already,” Duke protested. Izzy hoisted his arm on her shoulders and they walked together.

“Yeah?” Izzy asked. “And how’s that working out for you? Remember the day we met, when you got yourself into trouble with people looking to blow up the city hall? And you got in a fight with Smiley,”—Duke shuddered at the nickname, a flash of a blood red permanent grin stuck in his mind—“because of your punk cologne?”

Duke blinked. “I wasn’t in a good mental state then,” he said. “And there were so many more fights before that you don’t know about.” 

Izzy flicked his forehead. “That’s my point, dumbass. You go looking for fights so you don’t have to focus on yourself. Even when you were looking for your parents, you were distracting yourself with them. So what’s up? Riko told me about what’s going on with your family, but what about you?”

Footsteps rapidly approached them and a small figure jumped right by Duke’s side, lifting his other arm to be supported with her shoulder. Riko.

“Izzy stopped answering me when she said she was around here, so I figured that’s where you were,” she explained. “What’s up, Duke?”

Duke’s breath hitched. “It’s nothing, guys, really.”

“I call bullshit,” they both chimed at the same time. 

“I’m serious! It’s Tim’s and Steph’s argument, not mine.” Duke’s gaze drifted down. “And even then, Barbara and Cass and Jason? They’re having problems, too. Me? I’m the new kid. I’m not as invested as everyone else. Tim had to send me a PowerPoint so I would understand.”

Riko snickered. “You’re so soft, Duke.”

“Huh?”

“She means,” Izzy said, dragging them both to the side when they veered dangerously towards the road, “that you have a bleeding heart. You don’t like to show it, but you do. You gotta recognize that. Anyways, my bike is parked somewhere around here, we can get you home.”

Duke saw a weed, a small dandelion, sprouting out from a crack in the sidewalk. Gotham was dark and hazy and the sun was long gone, but it managed to continue sticking around. 

He stepped on it. 

“Not my home,” he muttered. 

He could feel Izzy’s eye roll. “Yeah, keep telling yourself that.”

                                                          *

Upon arriving at the manor, Duke pointedly ignored Tim’s bedroom and Steph’s guest room, instead taking the long route to his room, sent out a Tumblr post, and collapsed. He was tired, and these bruises were gonna hurt like hell come morning. Maybe if he just slept through the entire next day, the bruises would fade.

And sleep through the day he did.

                                                          *

//OOC (and then once he woke up and checked tumblr again, he had a panic attack primarily caused by steph’s panic attack but also. Everything Else. this may have seemed like a not angsty ending but damnit i’m not done with duke angst yet)

#ooc #fic #personal tag

[iwritethat]

Older Batsis: Birds

Request: More badass older Batsis~

A/n: When your bros find out you have a secret tattoo, but asking your scary sis about it takes guts.

>>>>—————————>

Having you as their older sibling could be... difficult. They knew you respected them and at least acknowledged them as your family members of sorts, despite the fact you refused to work with them. Ever.

They assumed you got your independent attitude from Bruce Wayne, your vigilante father figure, except when you sternly told the Justice League or anyone else for that matter that “I work alone.” they immediately believed you. Batman just didn’t have that lone wolf aesthetic with his deadly following of birds and batgirls.

Dick was probably the only one who remembered the warm heart underneath the frosty scales of your armour, you didn’t team up with them nor did you really stick in one place for a lengthy duration of time so when you rocked up to the Batcave with an arm slung over Wally’s shoulders they instantly paled.

.

“Hey Dick, pretty bird here flew from the nest and isn’t in the best of shape.” The speedster briefed your family, although you were balancing on the verge of semiconsciousness you pushed away from Wally with scoff.

“I’m fine alright... why’d you bring me here? Ah shit!” Pain sprinted through your nervous system and you instantly found yourself swooped up into the scarlet speedsters arms again.

“You’ll thank me later, I promise but even if you never forgive me I’d rather you be alive.” West gazed at you with concern filling his emerald irises and carried you over to the medical bay where he was met with Alfred and Bruce glaring at him.

It was expected that you remove you outer layer so the wounds were reachable but upon Alfred’s request you flatly declined.

“Not happening, at least not until I’m given some privacy.” This hushed the interrogation from your brothers who left the room because they weren’t stupid enough to argue with you, Damian was but Dick ushered him out before he could speak.

They’d definitely return, you regretfully couldn’t avoid your family forever even if it was to protect them. After Jason died, you all went your separate ways as your family were too broken to repair themselves when you attempted communication - they pushed you away in their state of grievance, so you stayed away. Bruce was seething at Wally for having to be saved - not that it was his fault, the man was protecting hostages at the time and you couldn’t exactly let the Flash die, it’d leave Central City unprotected and you were not replacing him. The Rogues would piss you off too much.

Alas you were correct, whilst preparing to leave since Alfred ensured you were at least stable (no prolonged stay necessary/wanted) and slipping on your jacket when Dick burst in.

“Woah wait you’re leaving?!” Upon hearing his yell, Tim and Jason bolted over from the Batcomputer to correspond a farewell.

“Just like that? (Y/n) stay for dinner or something...” Jason muttered, tugging your jacket to gain your attention although their surprising discovery muted oncoming persuasion.

“I didn’t know you had a tattoo!” Tim excitedly commented marvelling at the work depicted on your shoulder blade where your jacket had fallen to reveal your camisole underneath.

“Shit...”

“Is this what you didn’t want us to see earlier (L/n)? It suggests it is meaningful to you.” God you didn’t even hear Damian come in but he deduced the situation quickly, the boys immediately even more involved plainly to bug you like the little brothers they were.

“It’s nothing. Now move.” You coldly replied, securing your jacket to hide the object of their heightening intrigue.

“4 birds though?” Dick mindlessly stated, brows furrowed as he thought through numerous possibilities whilst you brushed past them toward the exit.

You gave an exasperated sigh, knowing that they were considering the meaning behind your creative secret but you were more focused on disappearing.

“It’s us!” Tim smugly clarified, smirking at your frozen figure. Damn his superior detective skills.

“...”

“Timbers, our badass, cold hearted sister would never.” Jason sternly stated, referring to your usual uninterested nature.

“He’s right. Tim is right okay?” Mostly you wanted Jason’s way of thinking to be the stereotypical view of you but it was overshadowed by your underlying love for them which was displayed by your defeated posture.

.

With a deep breath to replenish your confidence, you began by stripping your jacket, turning away from them to hide your expression and expose your detailed artistry.

“There’s 1 for each of you because I never want to forget, if something ever goes wrong then this is my anchor. Anyway, this bird represents Dick, it’s wings are spread because he’s always flying. He’s not afraid to fall and I admire that... but if he ever does I’ll be there to catch him.” The sincerity in your tone set them all on edge as you pointed to the highest bird, it was unexpected as they never believed you truly viewed them that way.

With their bewilderment, you continued, the action made easier being blind to their facial reactions. “Hm. That one is Jason’s-“

“The feathers are falling, it’s because I died I’m guessing.” The tallest commented, quite abrupt about the subject but you immediately corrected him with voice of determination.

“Originally it never had the falling feathers it was - still is the brightest colour since you were so full of life and intelligently bright too. I added them after you returned because I let you down, you lost apart of yourself but no matter what, you continue to fight. You’re so strong Jaybird, y’know that?”

“(Y/n) you-“ Before he could pipe in you briskly moved on, running your finger down your skin to pinpoint the next target.

“Smallest one is Damian, not due to his height but because he has the most room to grow and I can’t wait to see it. That bird has the kindest eyes, to match Dami’s heart.” A brief smile crossed your lips at that and you could only hope they’d wear one too.

“And the final one is for Timbers, the bird looking like it’s landing, he found his home here or at least I’d hope so. I wanted you to feel welcome and loved Tim, despite what you have to put up with. Even from me.” You hadn’t realised the lone stream staining your face, nor the crack in your voice during the final sentence but the boys likely picked up on it.

Your hand fell back to your side, their ongoing silence lead you to feel uncomfortable, you’d shredded your armour both literally and figuratively before them and they had nothing to say which encouraged you to throw on your jacket, stealthily wiping your eyes in the process. This is why you kept your feelings hidden, buried under sarcasm, silence and mild violence (you were a vigilante after all).

.

“Heh, but whatever. I better get outta here anyway, later losers!” Your tone was quiet and mildly awkward, shrugging off the previous soft atmosphere with a defensive insult.

“Hey, uh check this out. Ridiculous right?” Jason started, hesitantly grabbing your fleeting shoulder to show you an old battered photo he’d dug out of his jacket pocket. It depicted the two of you and Dick pulling immature faces, a joyful moment captured in time before his death.

“Yea-yeah... that’s so stupid Jay.” Neither of you meant it, the insults conveying a deeper sense of emotion to one another.

“Not as stupid as that.” Tim gestured to the handwritten instructions taped to the Batcomputer, the ones you’d given him when he first arrived as a guide. The boy picked it up so quickly that you didn’t think he even used them, let alone kept them.

“Don’t give us the cold shoulder (Y/n). We’re here for you, like you are for us.” Dick grinned, pleased with his remark.

“Right, because you guys have always got my back.” Was your unimpressed but amused reply, though Jason couldn’t resist the urge to mock you.

“I mean the tattoo is on your shoulder but nice try sis.”

“Your sense of humour is insufferable.” Damian muttered, he’d heard enough puns from Dick Grayson to last him a lifetime or 3.

A small laugh escaped you as you waved goodbye to your brothers, feeling like you’d strengthened your bond with them.

They were a good family, your tattoo would always remind you of that - maybe that was why you chose your shoulder blade? Because they’d always be looking over your shoulder, because you’d always have their back and they’d have yours. Because they were your little birds, not matter how tall or muscly they get.

.

-Bonus-

“Hey Wally, did you know about (Y/n)’s bird tattoo?” Dick casually asked his best friend once he returned from Bruce’s lecture.

“Obviously, it’s kinda hard to miss. It’d be even worse if I didn’t know about it.” Wally honestly responded, hands lazily shoved into the pockets of his black hoodie.

“...”

“Uh huh, and how exactly do you know about it?” The suspicion in Tim’s tone immediately caused the speedster to rethink his choice of words, they were playing him.

“We - um, why does that matter exactly?”

“As family, it’s of importance so I suggest you start talking West.” Damian lowly answered, hand placed over the hilt of his katana displaying his lack of patience for Wally’s sassy comebacks.

“(Y/nnnnn)!”

#older batsis #older batsis imagine #dc #dc imagine #batsis #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #wally west #batfam #batfam imagine #nightwing #red hood #red robin #robin #kid flash

[sassycassie-s-writing]

Supermarket Flirting

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): DC, BatFam - Jason Todd/Red Hood

Rating: PG

Original Idea: IDK, I just LOVE single parent AUs every so often.

Notes: (Masterlist)(By Character)(About Me) IDK I just feel like Jason would name his kid after one of the most positive influences in his life. @welovegroot @batboys-and-other-messes

^^^^^

Pursing my lips, I peered at the supermarket shelves. Just a weekly hunt for the peanut butter brand I liked that always ended up hiding behind the other brands because American supermarkets were always a mess.

Something grabbed my leg.

My first instinct was to literally shake it off—but I had the good sense to look down first.

A little black-haired kid was clinging to my leg wearing a green shirt with a turtle on it and jeans.

I gave the child a surprised look. “Hey there, little one,” I said. “What’s going on? Where’s your parents?”

The kid didn’t even look up at me. Just continued holding onto my leg.

“Someone didn’t teach their kid Stranger Danger,” I muttered under my breath. The kid didn’t even hear me.

“Alfie?! Alfie! Where are you?!” a half-panicked voice asked. I turned, following the source of the noise.

A man came careening around the corner of the aisle, eyes wide.

He was tall with black hair and blue eyes. He was ridiculously muscular, wearing a red hoodie over a white T-shirt and jeans with Converse.

When he caught sight of the black mop of hair clinging to my leg, he sighed in relief. “There you are, Alfie! Don’t scare me like that bud, you hear?” he breathed, coming over to me.

He froze when he saw my face. Then shook his head and smiled at me. “Sorry about him,” he apologized, peeling the child off my leg. The kid made grabby hands for me.

“It’s alright,” I said.

“Mama!” Alfie protested.

“That’s not your mama, buddy,” the man told the child. He looked back at me. “But I see why he came to you. You have a similar look to his mom.” He held Alfie on one hip with one arm and stuck the other one out. “I’m Jason.”

I shook his hand and gave him my name in return. “So, is he your son or your nephew?”

“What makes you think he’s not my neighbor’s kid or a cousin?”

I smirked. “You have the same hair and eyes—plus he’s got your mouth. Resemblance like that is most likely familial.”

Jason scrunched his nose to chuckle. “He’s my son,” he answered.

“You have a handsome kid. Takes after his father, clearly. Is his mom here? Is that why he hugged my leg?”

Jason grew awkward and uncomfortable. I opened my mouth to correct myself—to tell him it was none of my business and not to answer—but he cut me off. “She’s not around. Never has been. I don’t mind though. He’s not too hard to take care of and I have a big family willing to help out when I can’t take care of him for a couple hours.”

I wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so I just said, “Huh,” and tilted up onto my tiptoes to reach for the peanut butter, finally noticing the brand I was looking for on a higher shelf.

“Here, let me,” Jason offered, extending an arm. He snatched a jar and handed it to me. I took it from him and set it in my basket, thanking Jason for getting it for me.

“I shouldn’t have asked about his mom, I’m sorry. I just thought maybe she was here and he came to find her.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He gave me a crooked smile.

Alfie reached out for me again, still pouting and looking like he wanted me to hold him. He reached one arm out. I did too, setting my finger in his little hand. “How old are you, Alfie?” I asked, not even making my tone higher-pitched.

He turned his head into his dad’s shoulder, still holding my hand. He mumbled something I couldn’t hear.

Jason translated when I tilted my head in confusion. “He’s almost three.”

I grinned. “Aw!” I said. “Well it was nice to meet you both, but, uh, I should probably get back to shopping. I, uh—”

“Yeah. Sorry. Alfie, bud, will you let go of the nice lady’s hand please?” Jason prompted his son.

The little boy shook his head, mumbling something louder that sounded vaguely like, “Looks like Mama.” I smiled again.

Jason sighed and gave me another crooked smile. “Well then. I guess I just have to follow you around the store so this little cutie can keep holding your finger,” he remarked. I giggled slightly and bit my lower lip.

“That’s okay. I’m not in any particular rush,” I said.

Jason hung close to me down the aisle and around the corner to the next one—where a nice old lady saw us.

“Aw! What a sweet little family. You two have a very handsome son,” she complimented.

I opened my mouth to correct her, but Jason headed me off. “Thank you, ma’am,” he replied with a slight duck of the head. He smiled at her and then looked at me and bounced an eyebrow—signaling me to just roll with it. So I did. “How about I trade you, honey?” Jason asked. “I’ll carry the basket and you carry Alfie?”

I blanked so I wordlessly accepted Alfie into my arms while Jason slid my basket off my arm.

“Have a nice day, ma’am,” Jason said to the woman. She grinned and we walked in separate directions.

Once we were out of earshot, I gave Jason a look. “What was that about?”

He shrugged. “Eh. Just better to let some old people believe what they want to believe—especially when they go out of their way to say something kind. There’s so much hatred and darkness in the world—especially in Gotham—that it’s good to just let kindness grow where it can.”

I nodded thoughtfully as Alfie rested his head on my shoulder. “That’s a good point. Okay then.”

“Plus Alfie likes you and that’s rare so I figured I’d just go along with it,” he added as we reached a semi-full cart that was completely unattended. “This is mine. I left it when I lost Alfie.”

The almost-three-year-old nuzzled his face into my shoulder. “Stay?” he asked me quietly.

“Of course,” I said quietly. Jason didn’t appear to hear us.

“Hey, buddy, wanna sit in the cart again?” Jason asked.

His son shook his head fervently. “Uh-uh. Stay.”

Jason gave me a look with a question in it. Is that okay?

I grinned and nodded. It’s fine.

He set my basket in his cart and he and I went back to searching the aisles for our groceries. Occasionally I would try to give Alfie back to his dad but he always clenched his tiny hands into fists in my shirt and refused to let me go. Though he would walk next to me as long as he could have a handful of my pant leg in his grip or hold my hand, but he wasn’t really tall enough for the latter.

While we grocery shopped, Jason and I chatted. Got to know each other. He worked as a librarian but liked to take odd shifts at his friend’s garage whenever there was a novelty motorcycle in need of repair.

I found out he had three brothers and a sister—all of whom except one brother were adopted—and he was the second-oldest. I learned he didn’t always get along with them very well, but they were trying to move past old arguments, “What with squirt around and all,” he said with a grin, ruffling Alfie’s hair. Alfie giggled.

At the very back of the store, after we’d gone through all the aisles and assembled our groceries—mine didn’t even fill my little basket—Jason rubbed at the back of his neck. “Hey, so, um…” He trailed off. “Could I, maybe, ask for your number? Any girl Alfie likes and isn’t afraid of is a girl worth getting to know better.”

I smiled. “Uh yeah. Yeah that’d be fine.”

He looked more bashful than I would have ever expected from a guy like him. All through the store he was Mr. Confidence and Charisma.

But the somewhat embarrassed, awkward guy was charming.

Jason pulled his phone out and handed it to me. I put my name and number in it, picking an emoji to put next to my name, the way I did with most of my good friends in my phone’s contacts. I ended up picking the Vulcan salute.

“So, I guess I’ll, uh, see you around?” Jason asked after I handed him back his phone, scooping up his son, who pouted and made grabby hands towards me. I smiled at the kid, and then his father.

“See you around, Jason,” I promised. “Don’t forget to call me.” I swept my basket out of his cart and headed for the front of the store.

My phone buzzed in my jacket pocket.

An unfamiliar number, with a Gotham City area code.

Normally I wouldn’t have answered, but I had a feeling I knew who it was.

“‘Yello?” I greeted.

“Hey. It’s Jason,” a now-familiar voice greeted. “I was wondering if maybe you might want to go to dinner sometime.”

I smiled. “I’d like that.”

There was a pause and an exhale of excited relief. “G-great! I’ll call you when I can get a babysitter.”

“I look forward to your call,” I said, grinning from ear-to-ear.

“Me too.”

#Supermarket Flirting #Jason Todd #Jason Todd Imagine #Jason Todd FanFiction #Red Hood #Red Hood Imagine #Red Hood FanFiction #DC #DC Imagine #DC FanFiction #BatFam #BatFam Imagine #BatFam FanFiction

[linaofthemyscira]

Real Life Encounters

 Pairing: MMA!Jason Todd/Torres x (fem!)Reader

Prompt: what if you met a real life Jason Todd? Amazing right? Here’s how it would go…

Words: 2988

Warnings: asshole creeps, foul language, sexual harassment.

A/N since this is a real life scenario I’m changing Jason’s last name to Torres because 1. If I left at Todd that would just be a little weird 2. I’d like to think Jason is half Latino or comes from Latino descent (maybe the other half is american?) so yeah. I hope you like! 

P.S. it’s not really…an AU…it’s loosely based on @jasontodd-is-alive ‘s “Alternate Careers for the Outlaws”…also i apologize for it not being gender neutral, i’m really trying to get used to using they/them pronouns, and i’ll try to write future oneshots as gender neutral once i get used to it.

Gotham City, New Jersey. What an interesting place your job had taken you. It was oddly eerie how similar it was to Gotham City from the comics. You know, Batman, Nightwing, Robin, Batgirl and Red Hood. Tall skyscrapers, a rich business mogul, crime ridden streets. Weird right?

The company you worked for was holding a business trip in Gotham City and it was absolutely mandatory. Hence here you were.

It was your first day in the city and it had been long and strenuous. You decided to get some down time at a bar near your hotel and grab a drink before calling it a night.

You opened the door and went straight for the open barstool near the end of the bar. You sat down and folded your hands across the bar top and waited for the bartender to take your order.

“How can I help you today, miss?” He said with a jersey accent.

“A scotch on the rocks please,” you said and rested your chin in your palm.

“ID, please.”

You took out your ID and gave it to the bartender.

“[state you’re from], eh?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Yep.”

He inspected it for no more than 30 seconds and handed it back to you. He left you and began working on your drink. You sighed and put your ID back in your purse, then continued resting your chin in your palm.

As the man to your right left his stool, another guy replaced him. He had a blond buzzcut, tattoos littered his arms and he was wearing a thin white tank top and a pair of army pants. He didn’t look friendly or attractive at all. At least not from your perspective.

“Hey,” he said. You weren’t sure if it was to you or not, so you ignored him. One of your coworkers (and best friend) advised you not to socialize with the locals; they were “weirdos”.

“Hey,” he repeated and this time you turned your head in his direction. He was closer to you than you would have liked, considering you could smell the whiskey from his mouth. He looked your figure up and down once and grinned at you, showing off his gold grill.

“Oh come on…” you thought to yourself.

“Are you talking to me?” You asked him.

“You bet, baby,” he winked. You rolled your eyes in response and turned your head back to the bartender now in front of you serving your drink. You whispered a thank you to him and began sipping the scotch.

“Aw come on, have a little fun,” he slung his arm around you shoulder, “Why don’t I take you home and show you a good time, eh?”

You shivered at his touch, but not in a good way. You stopped sipping and looked at the man who wouldn’t leave you alone. You had two options: politely decline his invitation or stand your ground and tell him off. Either way, he was getting rejected.

As you were making your decision, someone entered the bar, and he wasn’t just a random person. In Gotham, he was quite famous. Girls fawned over him, guys were jealous of him. He had a certain reputation, but that didn’t stop him from walking in the streets like a regular person. It didn’t stop him from going to his favorite bar and getting a late-night drink, only, now he was going to get himself into an interesting situation and he didn’t know it…yet.

You finally made our decision.

“Fuck off, you can show yourself a good time, ass-wipe” you hissed and sipped your drink again. The creep removed his arm from your shoulder and stood up, towering above you, now livid that he was insulted.

“What did you just say to me, bitch?” He growled.

“I said fuck off,” you repeated yourself. At this, the new figure, who was leaned against the wall, watching this play out, raised an eyebrow and smirked.

“You don’t get to tell me to fuck off, you dirty whore,” he grabbed your arm violently and pulled you toward him, your faces inches from each other’s. It took you by surprise and now you were getting just a little bit scared.

“I do what I want,” you whispered with fierce determination. The man raised his hand up, balling it into a fist, ready to “teach you a lesson” until a voice stopped him.

“Hey,” the figure pushed himself off against the wall and sauntered toward you and the creep. You and the man, and the whole bar, looked at the challenger in confusion. He had a brown leather jacket on and a red hoodie underneath. His hood was on, so you couldn’t see his face, but he removed at as he was approaching you, and your heart nearly stopped beating.

The bar patrons began whispering and the creep let go of you. He walked up to the new guy and got in his face. The creep was only an inch or two shorter than the new guy, but he was staring into the new guy’s aquamarine hues tenaciously.

“Torres,” the creep snarled, “what are you doing here? I thought you were famous now.”

“What I can’t come to my favorite bar anymore because of my career? That’s bullshit,” the man named “Torres” replied. His voice made you nearly melt in your seat but you maintained your composure as you watched the stand off.

“Get outta here, this ain’t your bar anymore. Go to those fancy ‘mixers’ you got uptown.” The creep replied. He came back over to you and grabbed your arm again, pulling you close to him and stroking your cheek. You cringed and tried to pull your face away from his hands, but he grabbed your cheeks, puckering your lips.

“Get your hands…off of her…” Torres hissed as he took off his jackets and tossing them on an empty pool table, revealing a gray T-shirt adorning his muscular figure.

“Off of this beaut? I don’t think so,” the creep snickered. He turned your face toward “Torres” so he could he get a good look at his next victim and snaked his other arm around your waist.

“I’m warning you, O’Brien, get your hands off of the girl,” ‘Torres’ said.

O’Brien scoffed, “Or what? You gonna use some of your fancy moves on me? Huh? Try and stop me.” He leaned down and pressed a sickening kiss to your neck, causing you to groan in disgust.

That was all it took for ‘Torres’ to ball up his fists and launch himself at O’Brien, throwing a punch to O’Brien’s jaw. O’Brien let go of you immediately as he was slammed into the bar counter.

You fell to the floor and scooted away from the brawl, with the help of a random girl your age. You stood up and watched in awe as ‘Torres’ began attacking O’Brien with calculated and crisp movements. It looked like martial arts, but you didn’t know which kind. He evaded blows from O’Brien flawlessly and was eventually able to knock O’Brien down to the ground.

He turned to you and locked his eyes with yours, but wasn’t aware that O’Brien had gotten up and pulled out a switch-blade. Your eyes widened and you were about to say something when ‘Torres’ turned around a bit and was slashed across the chest with O’Brien’s knife. He let out a quick grunt of pain and backed away. You took this time to grab an empty beer bottle and quickly ran over and smashed it over O’Brien’s head, then kicked his stomach. With that, O’Brien was out as he crashed to the floor.

You turned to ‘Torres’ and saw him leaning against the counter, holding his chest where the wound was. His gray T-Shirt was quickly turning crimson, so you rushed over to him.

“Are-are you okay?” You asked nervously, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“Does it look like it?” He responded while panting. You looked up to the bartender, who had a bewildered expression on his face at what just happened in his bar.

“Do you have a first aid kit?” You asked quickly. He nodded and got a medium-sized clear box from under the counter. He handed it to you and you grabbed “Torres’” hand and pulled him up, slinging his arm over your shoulder.

“Do you mind if I use your break room?” You asked the bartender. He shook his head ‘no’ and you hauled “Torres” past the bar into the cozy break room.

You laid him down on the couch and set the first aid box on the coffee table.

“Take off your shirt,” you ordered. He raised an eyebrow at you as if to say ‘Are you sure about that?’.

“Just do it please,” you ushered him. He began slowly taking off his shirt, but since it wasn’t quick enough, you helped him and threw it to the side.

“Well, this is moving awfully fast, don’t you think?” He remarked wittily, gesturing between you and him. You rolled your eyes and turned back to the first aid kit. When you realized you needed some clean, wet rags, you went back to the bartender and asked for some. When you got what you needed, you returned and began treating his wound.

“Lie down,” you told him.

“You’re bossy,” the man remarked as he laid on the floor against the couch. You closed your eyes and furrowed your eyebrows in frustration but went straight to work, sitting next to him.

You cleaned the blood around the large gash, clearing the area so you could have a better look. Then you applied some antiseptic (because who knows where that knife had been?). Once you realized how bad it was and that you needed to stitch it, you got out the needle and thread from the first aid kit. You turned back to him and (reluctantly) straddled him so you could stitch him up at an easier angle. This caught him by surprise.

“Woah hey, um, I barely know you–” he began.

“I’m just stitching up this wound, relax.” You said, preparing the thread and needle.

“Don’t you think a doctor should do that?” He asked.

“I’m first aid certified and if I don’t, you will bleed out here and die,” you said flatly.

“Fine,” he said and frowned.

“Are you ready?” You asked. He nodded his head and you began stitching his knife cut up. He winced a couple times, but he was familiar with his feeling so it wasn’t too bad.

It gave him time to study you. How your hair fell and framed your face, how your eyes shined in the dim light of the room, how you scrunched your nose in concentration. You were beautiful, he had to admit. There was no doubt about it. So what were you, a beautiful young girl, doing at a small bar in Gotham City?

He was still lost in thought when you finished, so you snapped your fingers to get his attention.

“Hi,” you said.

“Hey,” he responded.

“I’m finished,” you told him. Now would be a good time to introduce himself. He nodded his head and stuck out his right hand.

“I’m Jason.” He said to you. You raised an eyebrow and looked at him. Black hair, blue eyes, chiseled features…why did he seem so…familiar? His name was Jason…his last name was Torres. Could it be…?

“I’m [Y/N]” you said back while crossing your arms, not shaking his hand. Your eyes wandered down to his chest and torso, eyeing his abs, then over to his biceps.

“Do you see something you like?” He smirked, snapping you out of your daze.

“Shut up,” you snapped. You didn’t mean it to sound so cold, it was just a defense mechanism.

“Okay okay, you don’t want to admit it, that’s fine,” he smiled a cheeky smile. It was cute and it made a small smile appear on your lips.

“How are you feeling?” You asked him.

“Better, no thanks to you,” he responded.

“You’re welcome. And thank you,” you said.

“For what?” He asked.

“For taking that creep out,” you stated the obvious.

“Tch, that’s nothing, I do that for a living,” he shrugged it off. You bit your lip and raised an eyebrow.

“You save damsels in distress from creeps for a living? What, am I supposed to pay you now?” You asked sassily. Jason gaped at your clever comment and shook his head in astonishment.

“No, I fight people for a living. I’m an MMA fighter. Jason Torres? Does that not ring a bell?” He countered. You shook your head and shrugged. An MMA fighter, huh?

“Okay, maybe The Red Hood?” He tried again. You almost hit the ceiling. The Red Hood. Jason Todd. It all made sense now. This…this man in front of you was the real life version of one of your favorite comic book characters. And it seemed as if he didn’t even know it. Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped.

“Ahh, there we go, now you know. Now, now, don’t freak out, I’m just a local ‘celebrity’ and I don’t sign body parts if you were wondering,” he chuckled. You rolled your eyes again and lightly smacked his shoulder. Seemed to also have the same attitude as his comic counterpart. Same appearance, same personality and almost the same name. But The Red Hood? What’s all that about?

“I don’t want you to sign my boob or anything, and I actually have no idea who you are,” you half lied, “but ‘Red Hood’ just sounds familiar. Why do you refer to yourself as that?”

“It’s a street name slash a ring name. I know that’s some WWE, fake wrestling shit but in Gotham, you have a ring name because you don’t fight for the same reasons they do in the big leagues like UFC. You fight to take the other person out. It’s vicious here. And if they know your real name, they know who you’re connected to and bad things can happen. I even have to wear a mask in the ring too. It’s really tedious but it protects my family,” Jason explained. This was so crazy. A real life Jason Todd in front of you. You never thought this day would come.

“Oh that makes sense,” you comment.

“Ey! Are ya done? Can ya get outta my break room now?” The bartender suddenly materialized at the doorway. “I said you could clean his wound up, not have sex with him on my couch.”

It suddenly dawned on you the position you two were in and how the bartender might have thought that, so you quickly stood up and stepped over Jason’s legs and picked up his shirt.

“I’m sorry, we’ll get out of here in a second. Could you please get his jackets from the pool table?” You asked.

“Sure thing,” the bartender said and left you and Jason alone again. You helped him up and handed him his shirt.

“Sorry about this,” you said.

“It’s okay, it’s not your fault. O’Brien is a dirty bastard. I hate that motherfucker, it’s not the first time I’ve had to deal with him,” Jason took the shirt and slung it over his shoulder. He had his comic counterpart’s facial expressions and body language down to a T. It was almost scary. You looked up at Jason, who was towering above you and asked him a question.

“How tall are you?”

“Why?” He furrowed his eyebrows.

“Just answer the question.”

“6’2” he responded. Wait until your group chat gets ahold of this. “What, you got something for guys that are 6’2?”

At this, you looked down and shook your head in slight embarrassment. “Kill me now” you thought.

“Gotcha jackets,” the bartender appeared in the doorway again. He threw Jason’s jacket’s to him and crossed his arms.

“Don’t be havin’ sassy moments back here. You can do that in your own homes, but not in my bar. Got that?” The bartender said and left you alone again. Jason shook his head and chuckled as he zipped up his red hoodie and slipped on his brown leather jacket. He held his gray T-shirt in his big hands and looked at you.

“So can I treat you to a drink?” He asked. You shook your head.

“Nuh-uh, that’s not happening. I’m not allowing you to pay for me, not after saving my ass,” you said.

“Which is nice by the way,” he added. He was flirting with you and deep down, you liked it. “But I’m buying you a drink anyway.” He pushed past you and back into the bar area. You grabbed the towel and first aid kit and followed him. (O’Brien had been escorted out by the police while you helped Jason).

“No you’re not! No no, I’m buying you a drink!” You protested. You quickly gave the first aid kit back to the bartender and put the rag in the sink.

Jason sat down at an empty barstool and you sat next to him. The bartender, who kept your purse for you while you treated Jason, gave it back to you.

“Anything she orders, it’s on me,” Jason told the bartender.

“And anything he orders, it’s on me,” you piggybacked off of Jason. The bartender looked between the two of you and huffed.

You ordered more drinks and after about an hour of talking to Jason you decided it was time to go home.

Jason walked you back to your hotel, even up to your room.

“So you’re only here for another 6 days?” He asked as he leaned his shoulder against the wall.

“Yup,” you hiccuped.

“That sucks,” he responded. “Hey, I have a fight tomorrow at 7:00. How about you come along and watch me?”

You raised an eyebrow at him and beamed.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

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