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808airsoftbros · 9 months

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Under The Red Hood (S) (BXG) (Natty)

Author: This one is hella long just so you know and I just love Red Hood. Also if you want to check out more of my fics have a look at the Masterlist.

Y/N's POV

People say they know the definition of suffering... But what they don't know is feeling the end of it. I was abandoned by my parents and the one I looked up to as a father figure for that clown to torment and use me as his ragdoll.

I was left rotting in that abandoned wing of Arkham City for a damn year with that bastard. He beat me, stabbed me with a hot iron to mark that I forever belong to him, you name it.

Foolishly, I kept faith that Bruce would someday come to rescue me someday but that day never came.

"Tell me kid what is your name?"

My name is Jason Todd...

"Who do you hate?"

Batman

"Hahaha... Good... You hear that Bats? The kid is not yours anymore!"

"Hey, I never asked... Who is the big bad bats?"

Of course sir... His name is-

*bang*

That was the day Joker put my lights out and I thought finally after all that hell he put me through, it would be all over. But no. There was more.

After my death, the League of Assassins recovered my dead corpse and took me back to their underground lair.

Ra's Al Ghul has always used the so-called reviving gooey shit, the "Lazarus Pit, " which allowed him to live for over a thousand years, but he had a theory...

The Lazarus Pit doesn't just revive or recover an hosts injuries but it also has the power to bring life to the deceased.

However, when I was dropped into the pit, I wasn't myself, I was confused, forgotten who I am, and all I felt was agony. I became a monster.

I killed and destroyed everything that came my way, but eventually, I regained my composure and my memories and came back to a city absent of the so-called hero Batman.

To my surprise, Dick Grayson, Barbara Gordon, Tim Drake, and Damian Wayne were all gone too. Curious to find out what happened to them, I interrogated Gotham's street criminals and did some research on the internet.

Breaking News: Bruce Wayne Confirmed Dead in Fatal Car Accident

Turned out that the others were apparently with him during that accident but I knew better... It wasn't a car accident that killed them. It was something elise.

Luckily, I managed to get some information from Harley who was working at an adult entertainment restaurant and she didn't bother resisting since her beloved Mister Jay is dead too.

"You live under a rock or something? Bats and the whole gang were going all out in Ace Chemicals and Mister Jay as a result blew the whole facility taking not only his life but everyone present in the plant." She explained and I sighed.

"Thanks alot, Harleen," I thanked her and she rolled her eyes.

"Just the hell out. I don't want to see you again," She replied and I chuckled.

"Don't worry, you won't be seeing anytime soon," I assured as I got up from the table and exit the restuarant.

With that clown bastard gone, crime actually plummeted and the GCPD was able to finally handle themselves without Bruce assisting them everynight.

There wasn't much for me to do besides just watch over the city as my new identity the Red Hood. I don't exactly follow Batman's moral code of no killing.

Not every criminal is redeemable like the Joker, so I cannot fight crime without bashing some skulls in.

*bang*

"Where is Black Mask?" I sternly asked as I point the barrel of my gun at his forehead.

"I've got nothing to tell you!" And I bashed his skull using the bottom of the grip making him grunt in pain.

"Last chance," I warned as I pull back the hammer.

"Fine! I'll tell you! He's holding up at his tower east of Gotham! But you won't get to him!" He confessed.

"Thank you," I replied before knocking him out cold.

Calling in the Batmobile to my location, I jumped high in the air and landed in the cockpit, and drove off to Black Mask's tower.

Seeing that Bruce won't be needing his car or any of his assets anytime soon you mind as well put 'em to good use.

With the fast mobility and maneuverability to do sharp turns and drifts I got to the location of Black Mask in no time but I parked it into an dark alleyway to avoid losing the element of surprise.

Grappling onto the rooftop, I activate detective vision on my mask to see the inside of the building to get a recon on the number of goons.

"Great, this is going to be a massive waste of ammunition," I said to myself.

Using the line launcher to infiltrate the building I ride the ropes and broke through the massive glass window and catching Black Mask and his goons off guard.

"W-What the?! Who the hell are you?!" Black Mask asked as he drew out his pistol.

"Your worst nightmare," I answered as I smirked under my mask.

Swiftly drawing out my pistols, I shot the gun off his hand and in just a blink of an eye, neutralize the guards leaving him defenseless.

Grabbing Black Mask by the collar, I held him out of the broken glass window at my mercy and it pleasures me to see the look of fear in his eyes.

"P-Please I-I'll do anything you want! I can give you territory! Drugs! Money! Guns!" He begged.

"How about you go to hell?" I proposed and let go of him to fall to his death making him scream as he quickly descends to the streets.

"Say Hi to Joker for me," I said as I turn around to exit the building as my job here is done.

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Meanwhile...

???'s POV

Walking down the streets of Gotham City, it was surely more peaceful and quiet ever since the death of the notorious criminal Joker.

But that doesn't mean that all crime and corruption didn't stop lurking and hiding in the shadows.

This city needed a change or otherwise, it needs to be cleansed. There are so many orphaned children helpless in the streets and not even our full efforts is enough to save them.

How cruel humanity can be? Batman is no different... Even though he fights crime every night his ridiculous code doesn't solve the roots of the problem.

I did hear that the caped crusader along with his assistants are now gone after Joker suicide bombed Ace Chemicals. Good riddance to that evil doer.

However, just as I was sitting on the bench on the lookout for any orphaned child I heard a scream coming from above the building and soon after a man plummets on the streets to his death.

Everyone was shocked and screamed in horror as they were confused as to what was going on. Looking up I see a shattered window and what seemed to be a silhouette of a hooded figure.

Unfortunately, I was only able to get a glimpse of the figure until he disappeared into the building.

With police and EMS arriving at the scene, I decided to vacate the area for the night as I was unsuccessful to find any orphan children for the clan.

Utilizing my super speed abilities, I got back to my clan's hideout, I unlocked the door using my key and walked inside the house.

"Welcome home, Sister Ahnatchaya Suputhipong~!" Mother Kwon Eunbi greeted as she gently hugged me and I return the hug.

"Thank you, Mother Eunbi but just call me Natty. I've told you that how many times already?" I jokingly replied and she giggled.

"It's still a courtesy to greet you by full surname, sister," Eunbi-Unnie said and I nodded.

"From what I can see, you were not successful to bring a child," She mentioned.

"That may be true but I did see something of interest," I replied and she raised an eyebrow.

"Is that so?" She asked.

"Yes, mother," I simply answered.

"In that case, please do tell me every detail," She insisted as she guides me into the living room.

Recalling and explaining my encounter with this strange hooded figure and the falling-dead criminal Black Mask, she was intrigued by my encounter and wanted me to tell me more.

"Do you perhaps know what he exactly looked like?" She asked and I shook my head.

"I'm afraid no, he was too high up so I couldn't get a good look. All I could make out was that he was wearing a black and red leather jacket." I answered.

"Oh, that gives me an idea of who this mystery vigilante could be... There had been rumors going around in the criminal underworld that there is an anti-hero who calls himself the Red Hood." Julie-Unnie explained.

"Anti-hero? What's the difference between him and Batman?" Hanuel asked.

"Well, Red Hood actually kills criminals if he sees it necessary while Batman's righteous code forbids it," Julie-Unnie answered and she nodded.

"He could be a huge help for us, IF he agrees to that," Belle pointed out.

"In that case, we shall recruit Red Hood into our cause, but Natty seeing that you saw him first, you may claim him as his wife," Mother Eunbi settled and we all agreed.

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Y/N's POV

Heading into the Batcave, I parked the Batmobile on the platform, seeing the cave once again brings back memories of when I used to fight crime alongside Bruce and Dick.

Those were more simple times, until I was kidnapped by the Joker and tormented to death. Now, it's all lonesome with just myself and the bats lurking around the cave.

All the artifacts, souvenirs, and trophies were all still here like the giant robotic dinosaur that the museum owner gave to Bruce as a thank you present, the giant penny from battling two-face aka Harvey Dent, and the big ass clown card.

There was still some work to do in the Batcave and make some adjustments to the gadgets to my liking and come up with new tech.

*alarm*

"Who the hell could that be?" I wondered as I went to the bat computer to check the surveillance cameras.

Looking at the footage coming outside Wayne Manor, I see a woman in a black coat with pale milky skin, with black high heels, and what I could tell she was concealing two katanas.

Suddenly, she busts the front doors open and walked around the manor like she owns the damn place.

Deciding to confront the uninvited guest, I went to the elevator and ascend to the study room and quickly made my way into the ball room where the intruder is located.

Getting visual of the woman, I draw out my gun and fired a warning shot.

"Who are you? And what are you doing in Wayne Manor?" I sternly asked.

"Are you what they call Red Hood?" She asked and I raised an eyebrow.

"Are you fucking stupid? I asked you a question! Now answer it!" I angrily replied and she sighed.

"Now that is not how you greet your future wife~," She mentioned as she takes off her coat and sunglasses revealing her thicc figure.

"What's the matter~? Do you like my body that much~?" She teased and I shook my head.

"I have no time for games lady! Get the fuck out of my house!" I barked and her eyes turned a crimson red.

"Oh will be fucking soon, darling~. But first, will you cooperate?" She asked and I fired another warning shot.

"I guess not," She replied before drawing out her katanas.

Leaping in the air she dives toward me but I blocked it using the fins of my gauntlet. Attempting to shoot one of her kneecaps I missed as she misdirected the barrel of my pistol.

Giving me a turning kick in the stomach I stumbled back and in response I threw shurikens but she avoided them by leaning back.

"Silver ninja shurikens? Did you perhaps knew I was a Vampire?" She curiously asked.

"I'm always prepared for anything but I have a question..." I paused and she gave me a smuggly smile.

"I'm all ears," She replied.

"Do you bleed?"

Loading in hollow point incendiary silver 50 AE into my pistol, just one of these is enough te kill a Vampire and meet an unpleasant death.

Preparing a shock blast from my gauntlet, the Vampire charges toward me and once she was close enough I let her have it.

Taking this as my chance with her senses blinded I fired a shot and landed a direct hit on her knee causing her to scream in pain as she feels the burning sensation in her body.

"Hurts doesn't it? Just one bullet should've killed you already but you seem to be more persistent," I said before chuckling.

"Alright, darling, I didn't want to do this but it seems that I'll have to force you to submit to me," She angrily said and I smirked.

"I'd love to see you try, sweetheart," I replied.

Drawing out my combat knife which is also made of silver, I used my close combat knowledge against her whilst using my gun.

Indeed she's a tough cookie but I've faced tough opponents before and not once have I lost.

But she was starting to get more quicker and aggressive with her swings and even cut parts of my jacket. Which is hella expensive btw.

"Someone trained you well," She complimented.

"I can say the same for you," I replied.

Throughout our duel, I could catch a glimpse of her massive tits and ass. Clearly she takes care of her body and outshines any woman I've met in my life.

Starting to lose stamina and energy to fight while she was still energetic and vigilant. I knew I wasn't win this one so I have to come up with a plan.

"Just give up baby, there is no point in fighting," She insisted.

"I'm just getting started," I replied as I threw a smoke bomb.

"I can still see you," She mentioned as she casually walked through the smoke.

Attempting to grapple onto the gargoyle statue at the wall, she snatches the hook and crushes it with her bare hands. She's fucking strong that's for sure.

"Running out of tricks?" She asked.

Throwing a wave of shurikens she catches one by hand and deflects the others with her katana.

"You know you can't hit me," She mentioned.

"Who said I was?" I asked and the shuriken in her hand began to beep loudly and exploded.

However, she survived that and gave me a front kick in the stomach launching me into the wall. How much firepower can a Vampire take?!

I'm out of those special vampire hunting bullets leaving only my silver knife but that was knocked out of my hand and she soon pinned me to the floor.

"Looks like I've got you~," She said as she smirked.

"So what are you going to do? Kill me? Suck me dry of my blood?" I sarcastically asked and she shook her head.

"Oh no, darling, we don't feed anymore... We are not just Vampires anymore. We are Demi-Gods." She answered and I scoffed.

"Now, it's time to teach you who you belong to now," She whispered into my ear.

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Start of Smut

Y/N's POV

The Vampire who apparently is now my wife drags upstairs to the masters bedroom and pins me on the bed.

"Now let us see who you really are," She said as she grabs a hold of my mask and takes it off revealing my face.

"Wow, such a handsome face you were hiding~," She complimented as she examines my cheeks.

"Jason Todd, what's your name?" I curiously asked.

"Oh, how rude of me! My name is Sister Ahnatchaya Suputhipong but you'll refer to me as jagi, darling, or babe. Understand?" She instructed and I nodded.

"I want an answer, baby~," She whispered into my ear sending chills down my spine.

"Y-Yes mommy," I nervously replied and she giggled.

Locking lips with each other, she easily outclassed me as she was more experience in this while I've never kissed a girl in my life meaning she just stole my first kiss and soon my virginity.

Strangely, I put my hands around her hips as she goes under my shirt and I take my hands off her to take off my jacket and shirt revealing my chest.

"God, you're so sexy, I can't hardly believe this is all mine now~," She admires as she traces each line.

"Why don't you stop talking and let's get to it," I suggested and she smirked.

"I like how the way you think~," She replied.

Taking off her tight dress, revealing that she wasn't wearing any bra or panties and showed off her huge mounds and clean shaven pussy which instantly made my cock hard.

"Enjoying the view~? Good, because I'm going to make sure your balls are drained tonight~," She seductively said and I gulped.

Not wasting any time, she pulls down my pants along with my underwear and was surprised to see my ten-inch dick. Comparing my size to her head. It was a sight to see a beauty right by my cock.

"Uhhhhh~," I moaned.

Taking my length into her mouth, the tightness and the feeling of her tongue as she bobs up and down. I'd be lying if I said I haven't fell in love with this lusty Vampire.

What made it more exciting is that she kept eye contact with me the whole time she was blowing me and she switches position with her pussy on my face which is dripping wet and I can smell the aroma of candy.

Without hesitation I devour her pussy making her moan as she works on my cock tasting her was so addicting and we kept going until we came into each other's mouths.

"You taste amazing, baby~," She said after swallowing my load.

"I can say the same, it's so sweet that I just want more," I replied and she smiled.

Getting into position she sits on my dick before slowly inserting it in taking away my virginity and slowly begins riding me and it was fucking tight down there.

"Oh my God, you're so fucking huge baby, no man has ever stretched me out like this~!" She screamed as she increased her pace.

"Your fucking tight as hell!" I replied as I grabbed onto her hips to match her rhythm increasing the ecstasy.

After riding my dick for a bit, she decided to switch positions to missionary style.

"Now darling I want you to fuck my brains out! No more holding back!" She demanded and I felt like a beast inside of me has awaken.

"Fine, you want me to fuck you so hard until you can't walk! You got it!" I replied and she bit her lip.

Not giving her any time to get settled into the position I rammed her in and out as rough and fast as I possibly can making her scream out of pleasure.

Thankfully this room is soundproof and the manor is on an isolated island so nobody will be able to hear me fuck my slutty Vampire wife.

"Baby I'm so close~!" She warned.

"So am I!" I replied.

"Then let's cum together!" She said and we did just that.

"Hehe~. You still got more in there don't you~?" She asked and I viciously nodded.

Agreeing to go for another round, we switch position into doggy style and I rail her until she was screaming on top of her lungs.

"Keep going baby~!" She encouraged as I hit her G-spot.

Feeling the beast wanting more and more of her gorgeous pussy, I increased the pace and groped her ass whilst giving a few spankings increasing the pleasure.

"I want you to fuck me until I'm pregnant baby~!" She demanded.

"Oh, don't worry, I'll make sure that you'll get pregnant!" I assured.

Feeling the tightness of her pussy and fucking such a beautiful Vampire really takes my mind off my problems and traumas that I've been through in the past.

Maybe it was destiny that lead her into my home, guess I could use the company and she has an amazing body.

"I'm going to cum!" I warned.

"Good! I'm close too!" She replied.

In no time, I cum deep into her womb and we screamed one last time as I came inside of her and I felt my dick was in the shower.

"No I want you to keep it inside of me," She insisted as I was about pull it out.

Cuddling with each other on the bed despite it being all messy and wet from her juices, I was too tired and exhausted to care as long as I was in her arms.

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Natty's POV

It's been three days since I officially claimed Jason Todd aka Red Hood as my husband and partner in crimefighting. I still crave more of him but I have to let him rest.

Eventually he started opening up to me about his past life when he was the second Robin to Batman but was left to be tormented by the clown and how he was revived by the Lazarus Pit.

To this day, he still has Lazarus visions and behaves erratically at some nights but I can handle it with no issues whatsoever and he told me that he was grateful to have a loving wife like myself.

As for my clan, they continue to patrol the city for any abandoned children to take in while we clean up the streets for them.

Based on observation his abilities were growing faster, before he could take only ten men at a time but now he can take on about fifthy criminals at once.

With Jason being forged into my heart and soul, our relationship is eternal as I've granted him the gift of immortality.

"I love you my dear Jason~,"

#kpop #kpop idol #kpop gg #bxg #x male reader #kiss of life #haneul #kiss of life natty #natty #julie han #belle #anabelle shim #kpop smut #red hood #batfamily #vampire #vampire au

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morgansunflower · 1 year

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Brother Don't Cry

Jason Todd X Wife! Al Ghul! Wayne! Reader

Warnings:suggestive content, explicit language and angst.

Words:1258

Arthur's notes! Third P. O. V. Good mom Talia! Bad grandparent/dad Ra's al Ghul

Requested taglist @too-strong-to-lose

Damian finds something in Jason's house that breaks his heart.

Damian was trying to find something to blackmail his brother but he never felt more infuriated upon finding something else. Did Todd keep it as a souvenir? What no one truly understood except for Y/N, was when he came into his father's care. His anger was rooted in grief and her distance was heartbreak. Damian wondered if the mask belonged to Jason meaning.. Maybe, no! He can't be the same man. He holds the helmet mask close to his heart. He closes his eyes remembering his guard. His protector.. His brother. He remembered crying at night after a terrible nightmare. The masked man came into his room and held him. He would softly sing the same song his mother did. He had saved his life many times. He bandaged his wounds with much care. He held him up high when he needed him. The hooded man gave him courage. He had no name but Damian recognized the mask. The mask he touched when he was born. He believed he died, now he was certain he truly was. Todd had to pay. He runs with the mask, to the Bat-cave. He sees Todd talking with Y/N.

"fuck" Jay cursed seeing his little brother holding THAT...

Damian throws it to Jason with all his strength. Jason catches it, remembering when Damian was a so much smaller. When Damian cared about him and looked up to him. This is not how he wanted Damian to find out.

Damian shouts to him "YOU KILLED HIM!! YOU MONSTER!!!"

"kid" his heart drops having Damian call him such a terrible thing that word word had kept him up at night, it scared him. He really didn't want his family to know.

Damian takes his sword looking for a fight. He was heartbroken.

"Damian!" Bruce scolded.

"stay the hell out of this B" Jason coldly said.

Of course Talia had to be currently reading in her room blissfully unaware her son's were currently about to fight.

"he has to pay! He killed him!" Damian accused with rage

"Little D calm down" Dick said, confused by what was going on.

"Damian that's not true!" Y/N told her brother

"you're lying to me!" Damian shouted to his sister "you have forgotten about him sister but I won't!" Damian nearly screamed with deep emotion.

Damian runs ignoring the shouts for him to stop. Jason sighed defeatedly.

Jason yells in perfect Arabic "enough, Damian!!" Damian stops mid step, Jay continued shocking everyone but Y/N ".. It's me, I never died.. It's me little brother" Jason had lost his temper and knew deep down it was the only way to calm Damian down.

Damian knew that tone from a very distant memory. He drops the blade. It was really him. He felt so much joy that he was alive but, he lied to him. He betrayed him, he left him. Damian feels his eyes shaking. Grayson tried to understand what the hell was going on..

"you're not my brother" Damian cried looking at Jason with so much heartbreak it made Jason's gut turn into knots.

"brother" Jason said in Arabic again..

"you have no right to speak to me!" Damian shouted back in the same language his brother was speaking and then stormed off.

Y/N reaches to touch Jason's shoulder but he moved back shaking his head. This was his fault.

"Jason" she mumbled softly seeing her loves heartbreak

"just please don't right now" he begged to his wife walking away.

Talia rubbed Damian's crying face as he laid his head in her lap. She remembered the day he left. Jason had went to Gotham without a goodbye to face her beloved. Y/N was heartbroken. Damian cried most nights missing his protector. She wanted so desperately to take them all away from her father but.. The pit changed much of his judgment to that of a ruthless, loveless assassin.. It wasn't until Batman came to them defeating Ra's in a fight that he then kept them safe under his care. With Talia they rekindled their love. Y/N confronted Red Hood, her beloved with so much anger it ripped his heart in two. Though in time she forgave him. Now Damian was trying to forgive him, though right now he just wants to cry in his mother's arms. Bruce opened his bedroom door to see his beautiful wife in her elegant dark green night dress. Talia sat on the bed, whilst Damian was sound asleep still resting on her legs. He had fallen into deep slumber after crying for a few hours.

"I was under the impression that they were not acquainted with each other" Bruce said searching for answers.

"that couldn't be farther from the truth. Jason's memory took much time to return. In the meantime he protected Damian with his life and loved Y/N with his heart" Talia takes a deep breath "once Jason remembered his past, I could do very little to help him... I know well guilt kept him from bidding us Farewell.. He needed to face his pain alone"

Over 2 weeks went by, Damian could barely stand to be around Jason. He was still upset he had left and never confessed the truth to him. Jason returned from patrol to go workout in the mini gym that was in his house. Y/N walked in wearing her robe over her sleepwear with her red slippers.

"Jason what are you doing?"

He lifts the weight "I'm not in the mood to sleep"

"you've been like this for 9 days Jay. You won't talk to me! Just.. Please at the very least come to bed with me" she pleaded

He sighed never able to tell her no. He go's to take a shower alone. Y/N laid in their bed waiting for Jason to join her. He put on his clothes and then laid in bed with her. She rest her head on his chest. He had to talk to her... He began to rub her face with his knuckles.

"I knew if I told Damian I was leaving he would have hated me. He wouldn't be able to understand my rage.. I.. I couldn't bring myself to face either of you. I was hoping we could start over, that part of me could be forgotten.. I was so fucked up then...."

"you are so much to Damian you are his brother. He loves you. I know you needed time to heal, just give him time to heal"

Jason kisses her and wraps his arms around her. He inhaled deeply laying his head in her neck. She always made everything better. She made it easier to breathe. Jason then realized how to get through to his baby brothers wall. He felt stupid for not thinking of it sooner. He decided to give it to him during the weekend dinner at the Manor. Damian went to his room after quickly finishing his food. He finds his old leather notebook. He thought that it disappeared years ago. He opens finding very old drawings he drew when he was little. Then a few Jason had drawn with him. He remembered it disappeared during the same time Jay did. Damian sighs heavily as his hands shake. Jason really did care about him.

"go ahead and accuse me of being a thief but half of them are mine any--" Jason stammered as Dami ran to embrace him, Jason's chest heavies "H-hey don't cry" he softly laughs

"shhhhhut up" he cried "we both know you're the emotional one"

#Jason Todd X Reader #Jason Todd X Wife! Reader #Damian Wayne angst #Good mom Talia #Angst #Au #Damian Wayne and Jason Todd net in the league of assassin's #Fluff #Forgiveness #Crying #Batfamily #Arabic

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quillsareswords · 3 years

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Hi! I love your writing! I’m having a rough night & was maybe sovereign if you could do a Damian x reader for me? Maybe, like, reader needs someone to talk to or summ and she calls Damian ? Anything is wonderful onviously that’s just what I’m thinking about lol❤️ your writing is awesome and ilysm!!

I know I'm late!! I'm so sorry! But I hope you can use this the next time you need it! I love you and I'm sorry you have bad days. If I could pull it out of you, I would.

Prompt List • Masterlist (in bio)

He picks up on the fifth ring. Right about the time you're second guessing yourself for calling at all.

"Hello?"

Your mind slows down a little at just the sound of his voice. Your shaky breathing tips him off before you can formulate a reply.

"Is everything alright?"

You exhale again. He isn't leaving you any room to give an excuse and hang up. Bless him. "Hey, Dame. I'm– um, yeah, I'm okay. I just, uh," you stop yourself as your voice wavers. You bite down hard on your lip and focus on the feel of your bathtub basin against your back through your shirt. Smooth and cool, solid and grounding. There's no water in the tub, of course. You just wanted to sit somewhere quiet where you could try to calm down. Thus far, it wasn't working.

"(Y/N)?" He sounds tense.

"I'm here, I'm sorry." The words are on the tip of your tongue, but you aren't sure you should say them.

He's busy. He's always busy. He leads three separate lives, of course he's always busy. He doesn't need to deal with your problems, too. He has a city to save, a degree to chase, and appearances to keep.

"(Y/N), talk to me. What's the matter? Why do I hear an echo?"

You try to steady yourself. He's relentless, you know that. At this point, even if you could lie your way out of this phone call, he'll call you right back, and if you don't answer, he'll drive over. He doesn't leave you a choice, really. "It's getting bad, again," you breathe.

You feel guilty immediately. It makes you want to cry again, and because you're too emotionally exhausted to fight it off a fourth time, your tears well up in tour eyes. He doesn't need this. He doesn't want to deal with this, but he feels like he has to when you call him like this. Selfish, selfish, selfish.

You hear shuffling on his end of the line. Jingling. Titus barks as Damian whispers something away from the receiver. "I'm coming over. We can talk if you'd like, or I can stop for food, or we can watch something. I'd be happy to sit in silence, if that's what you need."

You snuffle. "You really don't have to–"

"(Y/N). I know I don't have to. I want to. I'm getting into my car now. Where are you?"

You pull your knees up to your chest. Eyes dart up tour plastic shower curtain. You cheek rests on one knee. "Home. I'm sitting in my bathtub."

"Okay. Do you want me to stay on the phone with you?"

"No, that's alright."

"Okay. I'll let myself in. I'll be there in twenty minutes."

"Okay. I'll see you then."

He hangs up, and you're left to silence again. It's deafening. Your thoughts start scuttling back, the paranoia and the anxiety gnawing at you while the depression distracts you. It's a group effort to destroy you.

Twenty minutes. Just that, and then you'll have Damian. He'll help. He always does. He feels obligated, you anxiety snarls. He has bigger things to worry about than one of your episodes.

You're too deep in your thoughts to hear your bedroom door open. You jump when the bathroom door clicks.

You hear claws on the tile, and before you can react, Titus is shoving his head past the curtain and licking your arm, delighted to see you again. You smile immediately, turning your posture toward him and rubbing your hands all over his face. "Hey, baby," you coo.

Damian gently pulls the curtain back. He isn't exactly dressed casually. You feel guilty again. He must have just gotten home. In his hands, a paper drink holder and a paper Sonic bag. He takes a tall styrofoam cups from one corner and holds it out to you. The Sonic logo grins down at you like an old friend. "I know you probably aren't hungry now," he says, "but I thought you'd enjoy this now."

You take it gratefully, and nod. There's a knot in your throat again.

He sets the bag and singularly occupied drink holder on the toilet lid, pulls the other side of the curtain open, and steps in with you. His sits down in front of the faucet, legs crossed. He takes out his drink. Titus lays down in front of the tub, resting his chin on the edge so you can continue getting him.

Damian's eyes are soft. You feel weepy again, and you hate yourself for it. Why do you get like this? Why does he put up with you?

"I love you," he reminds, gently. He says it like you may have forgotten, like the information got lost in the chaos of your thoughts today. "I'm glad that you called me. I don't like the idea of you sitting here by yourself all day."

You can only nod, poking your straw around an Oreo milkshake.

"Hey," he cranes his head to catch your eyes, "I mean it. Always call me. I want to be here for you."

Your eyes well up again, so you bite down on tour lip, hard, and nod again.

He set his drink aside, leans up awkwardly to press a kiss to your lips. It isn't deep, but it's packed with adoration and affection and the promise of I'm here because I want to be. "Don't bite your lip like that. If you need to cry, my love, cry, and I will be your shoulder. If you need to talk, I will listen. If you want only my company, I'll offer it wholly. Never regret asking me for anything, Beloved."

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

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batfoonery · 3 years

Text

BatPets Headcanons

In honor of the Most Glorious and Beloved Bitewing (and Ace and Titus and Alfred the Cat and Goliath and Batcow.....) I wanted to share my thoughts on what pets the batfam has and should have.

Dick

Ahhhhhhh Bitewing! Our new beloved! We've only just gotten you but if you get whooshed away by bad writers I already know I will RIOT.

It actually makes perfect sense for Dick to take in a stray pup. His bro-son has the attitude and personality of a cat, so he already had that covered. And I can't see him paying high prices for a designer breed (bless him) so it's stray/shelter or nothing.

That being said, he also needs a young dog. Some people are made with the disposition to take in the older dogs with older dog needs, but Dick loves deeply and I can't see that he'd deal well with the shorter timeframe of taking in older dogs. So. Younger dogs, that he can go running with in the morning and play with in the park and nap with on the couch.

Jason

My man has taste, and also had a doggo as a kid. He's got a soft spot for all of Gotham's forgotten strays. I see him as being a pitbull kind of guy, but like. Also mastiffs. Anything big and menacing looking, but they always turn out to be utter marshmallows.

Totally the type to name his big scary dog Tinkerbell or Baby or something mushy like that. Likewise, Kori and Artemis (and probably Roy) all collect cutesy costumes and collars and leashes. Has the most cutsey giant dog.

The kind of dog that he can trust to take care of kids. If he's particularly concerned about a kid out on the street he can drop the dog off to stand guard until the kid's parent shows up. The dog is real gentle with the lil human, but scares off potential kidnappers.

Cass

The first of our exotics keepers! I feel like Cass would really appreciate betta fish. The way the swim and flit through the water, fins seeming to dance as they moved.... like tulle, like dancing.

She probably has several tanks. The first one she got was from Petsmart or PetCo or whatever. It irked her because she knows they don't tend to treat the fish well, but the local petshop's fish were all extremely sickly looking. After that she's hooked, for lack of a better word, and Bruce ends up learning way more than he ever needed to learn about importing fish (and paying for imported fish).

She's meticulous about their care. They've all got nice big clean tanks, and a companion to help keep them clean (different ones according to temperaments, snails for the easier going ones and shrimp for the more aggressive boys). They've got live plants and decorations to hide under, each tank a different theme to show off the fish. Has lowkey been considering getting a female for one of her favorite easy going boys (the first one, who has become a very soothing companion) because he's getting older and she'd like to be able to carry a part of him on.

Tim

His companion is an emotional support animal, with papers from his doctor and everything. Seems like he should be a dog person, but instead has a very big Turkish Angora. Her name is Mrs. Tuffles and he got her from a breed-specific rescue.

She's good for him because she disrupts his work and also helps provide a soothing presence when he has a panic attack. At night if he isn't in bed at a certain time she lays on top of whatever he's working on. If he's panicking she lays on his lap or chest and purrs (the added weight, the feeling and sounds of the purrs, held disrupt tension). She's a cuddly cat, and it tricks him into sleeping in in the mornings.

When he finds out that cats purr on a wavelength that encourages healing, and that there's evidence that they sit on humans and purr in attempts to heal/help them, he bursts into tears and startles the cat, who had been draped over his shoulders.

Steph

Got a bunny because she thought it would be an easy pet. She was very very wrong. It was from one of the neighbors in her building, because the mom of the kid who brought it home didn't want it anymore. It's a cute little lop, grey and brown.

She quickly discovers that bunnies are super dirty, and they absolutely stink. It bites her for the first week (and Tim and Jason and everyone else that isn't Damian, who somehow tricks it into loving him) and she seriously considers taking it to the shelter. But she doesn't. By week three, he's snuggling up on her feet and in her lap, and she decides that maybe he isn't so bad after all.

He didn't have a name when she got him, so she call him Mi-Mi. She doesn't tell Damian, but it's totally named after him because he reminds her of the way Damian had been when she'd first met him and the progression of their friendship over time.

Duke

Seems like a bird type of dude. Probably has a Cockatiel or two. They're very sassy birbs, and there's no way he doesn't enjoy that. One of them repeats words, and has picked up swears from Jason. It swears at Bruce every time he comes in Duke's room. Everyone except Bruce finds it funny.

The other one "dances" whenever it hears music coming from Cass's room. They're both very active and curious, he's contantly having to buy toys for them to rip apart. One of them nipped Damian's ear once, and Duke has never seen Damian look more offended in his life. It was probably the first pet that Damian hadn't been able to Disney-Princess.

They've probably got a dumb name pair. Tom and Jerry, Chip and Dale, etc. Personally I think he'd get a kick out of naming them Batman and Robin, just to fuck with Bruce. He probably then teaches the one who talks (Batman) to say dumb things like "I am the night! I work alone!" etc etc.

Damian

Has all the animal companions. Not pets. That makes them beneath him, which probably opposes his fundamental beliefs. This is my reminder to yall that Ra's started out as an eco-terrorist. Putting aside what he is or is not now, I like to believe that Damian was raised with a deep respect for nature and animals, he probably sees humans as just one particularly terrible animal species.

He has a wide array of companions as is. I'm good with them all, although I wish they'd bring back his dragon friend. :( I love the dragon friend.

I think he'd be the type to have axolotls too. They've got an interesting mythological basis and fit into the dragon theme. Plus the short story "The Axolotl" by Cortazar is a fascinating piece of mystical realism and I could see that he'd be intrigued by the species. They're endangered in the wild because of habitat destruction and invasion of foreign species that prey on them, but are easily bred in captivity. So I could see he'd keep at least one breeding pair, with the intent to someday bully Bruce into funding a project to save their natural habitat.

Barbara

Doesn't have her own pets, because she doesn't want the responsibility on top of everything else she does.

But her apartment always has furry/feathered friends in it because she's constantly petsitting for the others when they have to go do hero stuff. She's basically like a step-mom for everyone else's pets. She's learned how to take care of tanks and whatnot as well, mostly for Cass. The axolotls are gross and she refuses to touch those tanks, but the bettas are kinda like cute grumpy old men. She likes to tease Bruce by telling him his grand-fish take after him.

Always has a variety of pet snacks with her. She is determined to be the overall favorite human to all the bat-pets. Competition is fierce between her and Dami, but she has an edge because Robin the Cockatiel seems to prefer her.

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artxyra · 4 years

Text

The Secret Life of MDC | Part 3

Part 3 - Welcome to Gotham, now get out!

Part 1 | Part 2 |

Arriving in Gotham was just an absolutely massive mess, that quickly turned into a several page report for Marinette to send to the school board the moment she arrived in her temporary dorm at Gotham Academy.

Let recap back to the airport. When everyone got off the plane, Lila was quick to make up an excuse about Bruce Wayne sending her a private limo that she’ll be happy to bring the class along. Of course, Caline Bustier, absently believed the long-time liar telling her students to gather their belongings and for Lila to call the Waynes. It was as if she had completely forgotten the arrival procedures. Arriving in Gotham, proceed to find the bus driver, and meet up with the Gotham Academy Headmistress to retrieve the rest of the plans for the month. Marinette tried to tell Caline that what they were doing was against the procedure, something that she had to memorize for moments like this, only to be lectured about behavior the second she finished talking off to the side.

Then when they finally arrived at the school, Caline had the nerve to lecture her again about not informing her about the bus before being dragged off by the Gotham Academy headmistress, who clearly was not happy with the decisions made before they could even step foot onto the school grounds. Gotham is not a place to dilly dally unless you know the area or a native.

“Do you think, she’ll be fired after this?” Chloe asks while setting her things into the wardrobe as Marinette clicks the save button on her laptop.

“Maybe, no matter what happens, we’re here for a month regardless of the decisions the GA headmistress and Principal De La Fontaine decides in the coming days. All I know as the class president and temp. TA; my job is to help her overlook you guys.” Marinette sighs and closes the laptop's top before giving Chloe her full attention.

“I still can’t believe you graduated early. Though Adrien and I are grateful you managed to stay despite everything.” It was rare moments like these that made Marinette glad that she gave Chloe a second chance. Chloe had apologized one winter when she was freezing to death outside because her parent went on a tropical vacation on her request and decided to allow the staff to take a few days off. It was Sabine and Tom that took the former bully into their arms and made her feel loved, a love that she rarely receives from her parents. Since that day, Chloe takes pride in the honor of being Marinette’s sister just as Adrien did when they took him in also.

“I couldn’t leave you guys to perish in that class. Also, I just didn’t want to give Lie-la the satisfaction of winning.” Marinette says as her phones with the familiar sounds of “The Other Side” by Ruelle. Instantly, Marinette picks up the phone and smiles. “It’s Damian, he wants to go out tonight. Think I have time before—”

“Go, I’ll keep you from trouble, maybe even invite Adrien over if he isn’t doing the same with Jon.” Chloe pushes the noirette out of their room before closing the door behind the designer with a smirk on her lips.

As Marinette makes her way out of the dormitory, little did she know that Lila was just doing the same but for a different reason.

~*~

Damian Wayne @therealbloodheir I had a wonderful night with my beloved. I can’t wait for more nights like these. [Attached is an image of two hands intertwine with each other with the moon shining between them.]

Nette @GothamsFashionSense Replying to @therealbloodheir That sounds like a marriage proposal. Missing you too.

~*~

In the halls of Gotham Academy, conversations buzz around the single fact that Nette was back in Gotham for the first time in weeks. Groups of students gather around a single person, whose phone is out in the open, all gushing about theories on how the date went.

The same can be said for GA’s exchange students who crowd around Lila Rossi like she was the air.

“Gurl, spill, how was the date? You’re tending on twitter, again!” Alya squeals, gripping Lila’s arm.

“Oh you, it was truly romantic. Damiboo took me on this romantic dinner, but the first place we went to didn’t serve any vegetarian meals, and as you know I’m one but he’s not. We left and found another place that was just right.” Her high pitch voices drive a shiver down people spines, well anyone that is in clear hearing distance to the Italian teen's voice range.

“Do they truly believe that she’s Nette. Bitch please, we all know that Nette has dark hair from the back of the head photos on twitter.” A random student scoffs behind the trio.

The trio turns around looking at the person in a new light. The student had long braided blonde hair and wearing the GA uniform. “You’re not fooled? I was pretty sure that she would try and convert you the moment you step foot into the building.” It was Adrien that spoke first.

“I'm Allegra, besides me is Claude and Allen.” The student says shaking hands with Adrien before continuing with, “Anyone with brain cells can tell you that she is not Nette from @GothamsFashionSense.”

Allegra then takes the empty seat beside Marinette.

“Name’s Marinette, these dorks are Adrien and Chloe.” Marinette says, “About the brain cell thing, we’ve been saying that since she joined our class a few years back.”

“It ridiculous, utterly ridiculous, as to how they manage to hang on her every word. And one of them is a self-proclaim reporter. The bitch hasn’t reported anything remotely true since the liar had joined us and don't get me started on her early years.” Chloe places her two cents into the conversation.

This was the start of a blooming relationship.

Claude, Allegra, and Allen were quick to understand the environment that the Paris Trio was living in. An irresponsible, enabling teacher and a class full of idiots. With the Gotham Trio, the Paris Trio was able to understand how Gotham Academy works and learn the ins and outs of specific places. Despite the fact that Marinette vaguely knows just about much.

~*~

“So, how were your first three days at GA?” Dick Grayson asks as the Paris trio who are sitting on the couch inside the living room of Wayne Manor. "Is it about the same as it was when I went?"

“Dicky, I am this close to making heads roll.” Chloe’s fingers are teaching as a look of crazy twitches in her eyes.

“It wasn’t all that bad the first couple of days and then Lila tried to convince GA students that she was me by photoshopping our twitter photos. Other than that, I’m more worried about when Bustier announces that our class has been invited to the upcoming Wayne Gala. I’m already booked with mine and Chloe’s dresses along with Selina’s and Cass’s.” Marinette says, resting her head on Damian’s shoulder as their hands' interlock. Damian places a quick peck on her forehead.

The room was once again oddly silent before Adrien let out a loud giggle.

The family turns to the model who was staring at his phone with the biggest smile on his face. Adrien was no doubt in a group chat with Luka and Jon about upcoming meetings and plans.

“What?” Adrien asks, looking up to the group of extended family members staring at him. They all quickly look away, some whistling while others mess with the person they are next to. “Seriously guys, what?” The whining in Adrien’s voice just made it harder for them to pretend to do something as they hold in a laugh.

“Nothing,” Marinette snickers as Damian brings to play with her hair by braiding strands of it. She always liked it when Damian messed with her hair, he sometimes does something nice, surprising everyone with his styling skills.

“Hey, Pixie-Pop and Pixie-Pop’s friends. When did you guys get in?” It’s Jason, to which majority had forgotten about even though Tim was a close second as he is hovering over a half-full cup of coffee trying to stay awake but isn’t with them in reality. Maybe Marinette should make her special concoction that would knock anyone out for quite some time.

“Hey Mari, can you make the switch?” Dick whispers in the designer’s ear. Marinette huffs agreeing to the older sibling’s request. Damian nearly groans as his girlfriend gets off his lap and walks into the kitchen.

Marinette comes out nearly ten minutes later with a steaming coffee mug in hand. She walks over to Tim and pushes his cup out of his hand and replaces it with hers. Tim, absently, takes a sip. Within seconds he is knocked out, cold.

“I’ll never not be amazed at how fast your drink can knock Tim out,” Dick says as he picks up Tim and exits the room. Marinette shrugs and takes her seat next to Damian.

“When does Cass get back from her trip?” It was Chloe who decided to break the silence between them.

“Before the gala, that’s for sure,” Jason answers as he pulls out the controllers for the game console. He gives Marinette a knowing look, who smirks with mischief in her eyes. He should know better than to play against Marinette.

~*~

It was times like this that made Marinette wish that the school board had investigated Mlle. Bustier years ago, like for example when the liar first tried to get her expelled in college. Yeah, that was such a long time ago.

Today was supposed to be an easy-going day, but for some reason, Lila managed to convince the teachers, Mlle. Bustier specifically, to allow the class to visit a nearby street mall. Mlle. Bustier, of course, agrees despite the GA teachers telling her that it was a bad idea to let the student go out unsupervised in a place they still don’t know much about. Caline laughs it off stating that they’ll be fine, and it’ll be just like walking down the streets in Paris. That added another dash to her inability to be a proper teacher.

Which brings us to the street mall. Lila was going into stores left and right proclaiming to be Damian Wayne’s girlfriend or stating that she is the niece of some high profile celebrity in hopes of getting free or discounted items. That doesn’t dwell well seeing as Gothamites are not as gullible as Parisians.

The Paris Trio along with the GA Trio watch the mess that she was drumming up from afar. Chloe had invited Allegra to join them which then extended to Claude and Allan who wanted to go for the arcade.

Lila even had the nerve to ask Adrien to join her and Alya shopping trips with the underlying message of making him pay. Once being denied on numerous occasions, Alya managed to steal Nino’s wallet in hopes of paying for all their stuff. Yeah, that didn't help their relationship status.

“Alya I told you that money wasn’t for you,” Nino screams into his girlfriend’s face as she tries to come up with an excuse. He was infuriated.

“Nino, baby, if you love me you would have just given me the money. Lila really needed those items for her date with Damian.”

“I don’t care about Lila’s need; she is not my responsibility. In fact, neither are you, Alya. You just spent the money I had saved up for this trip.” Nino had wanted to go into a DJ shop that sold the equipment he wanted and started saving the moment the trip was announced the year before.

“Stop bitching, it was only a couple hundred dollars.”

Oohs and side-eyes make up the crowd they were drawing. It was a free drama tv for them.

“Ooh what do we have here, a lovers quarrel? Now would be the perfect time to spring my new trap.” Suddenly, it was like time freezes.

~*~

Chloe B. @QueenBeeOfParis The best thing about my idiotic classmates is television drama. #savemefromthem

Tina @thepinkmistress I was finding my own business when this shit happens. [Attach is a video clip of a couple arguing and goons dress in green takes over the streets]

Tim Drake’s Bish @rachelcovefe The nerve of this group. Just finished my shift only to be told by some foreigner that she was @GothamsFashionSense like bish please I know you ain't her. #anotherdayingotham

Kimmy @kimmyontheblock Replying to@rachelcovefe OMG same but she then added in that she was Jagged Stone's niece. Um excuse you but we all know that it's @MDCfashion

Mari Needs Coffee @MarinetteMemes So the first relaxing day in Gotham ruined by the Riddler and Lie-la’s fanatics. Yup, so good to be back. #memescomingsoon #goodgrief #imabouttoheadout

Part 4 >>

Tag List: *View my Tagging System guidelines for how to to be properly tagged or removed.

Note: The SPECIFIC Tag list is officially closed. If you wanted to follow the story please mark the tag fic:The Secret Life of MDC.

#daminette #maribat #teacher assistant au #teacher assistant Marinette AU #ta marinette #fic:The Secret Life of MDC #ml x dc #mlb x dc #dc crossover #ml crossover #damimari

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hoodedwing · 3 years

Text

Loyalty Killed Me

Summary: The Joker could finally do what he wanted to do, traumatize Nightwing

Characters: Nightwing. Harley Quinn. Joker. Mentions of Red Hood

Warnings: Just really sick ways of stitching people up. Blood. Depressive. Major character/s death mentions. Batman. Doctor Leslie Thompkins

Additional Notes: I know Joker cannot traumatize Grayson canon-wise? Please correct me if I’m wrong.

Word Count: 2,242 words

***

Time doesn't stop.

Time knows, in its hands. It plays around with the seconds. These seconds matter, someone dying, someone on the communicator whispering, ____ come get me. come get me, I can't go back.

Time doesn't freeze. Time does not have a cloak drapes around it in a timeless manner. Time does not walk in a regal manner and stroke your gaping wounds to cauterize them. Apply pressure because really, when did Time wait for you to stop the damned arterial spray? Have you seen first hand how much blood can spew, almost like a fountain from that serrated dagger?

Time has caught up with Dick Grayson, the Wonder Boy. The Nightwing Blüdhaven didn't deserve. The loving boyfriend/husband of Barbara Gordon. The first son of Bruce Wayne, Batman.

Batman. He doesn't know who's Batman. Not anymore.

3200..6400..12800..

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Remember, inhale slowly, inflate lungs. Let it circulate through. Let. Let it work.

Richard. That's your name. Your mother was beautiful and your father was handsome. You are a Grayson. You have brothers and sisters.

Pain.

Pain is relative. If you fuck with pain long enough, it won't fuck back with you. Pain spreads through him and he inhales deep, bigger breaths. Trying to drown out the searing ache. He succeeds, deceives his brain.

Dick Grayson is such a liar.

He knows how to lie, how to smile widely at the Blüdhaven precinct when shit goes down or still tell a joke or two when Damian is there.

Dick Grayson is such a liar.

He's a good man. Honest to goodness. He's fooled himself into thinking his left leg didn't feel on fire, he's successfully managed to stop gasping against the rattle of his chest, a rub or two might be the cause. Who knows?

BOY WONDER! SAD YOUR DEAREST BATMAN HASN'T COME TO SAVE YOU YET? WHY LOOK AT THAT.

Mistah J checks his watch and smiles, his crooked smile stares back at Richard.

Dick only looks away as the Joker's cold fingers run his slimy, skinny fingers along his body. He used to shiver under his touch in a bad way, he would gulp and squeeze his eyes shut, hunting for memories to dive into.

When he got Zitka. When his mother named him her Robin. When he went on patrol for the first time with the all mighty Batman. When he first met Jason. Then Tim. Then Damian. Then the nights they spent healing wounds, fighting together or just sleeping or Netflix.

Dick doesn't move, doesn't say a word. He doesn't even let out a humourless laugh or a quip. Dick clings onto a hope.

Batman. Come get me.

BOY WONDER IS STILL LIVING. WHY, THAT'S A JOY. COME OUT THERE LITTLE BLUE BIRD. YOU REALLY THINK YOU CAN STAY IN THAT LITTLE BRAIN OF YOURS? WHEN YOU WAKE UP. THAT LEG WILL HURT. YOUR BLOOD WILL SPILL AGAIN ON THAT DARNED LITTLE CREST.

He doesn't care. The glorious speech does not make him flinch. He looks at the window, one thought crosses his cloudy vision.

Bruce (Dad), come get me.

LET'S HAVE SOME MORE FUN, SHALL WE. EVEN JAYBIRD PLAYED THIS GAME TOO. COME ON, HE HAD FUN. LET'S PLAY BLUE BIRD. BLUE JAY. HMM. I LIKE THAT.

Playtime.

Its always target practice. He would lie there and watch Harley swing her mallet here and there, sometimes too close to Dick and she would talk to him, so sweetly.

Aww, you wanna play too? Let's play together, shall we?

His face will clench up, his head will scream and suddenly everything is loud as Harley fires guns at targets and maybe shoot some arrows at Dick.

On lucky days, he's used as her gymnast prop.

I want to fly again. Batman I'm falling, please I'd like to fly again. My wings are clipping and I will rip. -

He falls asleep.

You can't call it sleeping. Dozing in and out of consciousness, he was neither awake or sleeping. A grey haze flittered across his vision. No sign of clarity. He still heard the rattle of his breath, the fire in his leg. The now warm abdomen.

He feels someone at his leg.

Harley Quinn was there, a sly smile as he feels a needle go in and out.

In and out. In and out.

In and out, in and out. You need to breathe Dick. In and out. In and out.

When he hears the door shut and a ricocheting silence, he peeks at his leg.

A sick suturing of his leg stabs with dental floss, a handiwork Harley was sure to boast later on. He doesn't care if it gets infected. What's the big deal? Batman will take care of it.

He turns over on his side to his communicator lay. The Nightwing emblem was shattered beyond measure. No matter, I can get a new one. The communication mattered.

He presses the distress signal again, again. Again. Bruce better get that flashing orange light and he should feel his bipolar touch in no time.

He tries to talk, voice hoarse from decreased usage and a rough sandpaper-like quality stuck to it.

"H..hello? Bruce. Dad. Please get me. I'm.. I'm waiting. Please."

He turns back in his side, curled up like an invited animal.

The rain pours, shadows keep coming in and out but none belong to his dad.

The boy asks the moon if Batman had lost his way. Asked if the moon could shine the light brighter at him so Dad can find him faster. He'll be okay, he'll be okay. Bruce might be lost, after all. There's a lot of streets and time isn't on anyone's side.

Two weeks go by.

Dick still finds himself bound by the ties and definitely no sign of the caped crusader.

Batman is surely coming.

That thought fades slowly, over the weeks. He's gotten more used to the Joker and the crowbar.

Is this how Jason felt, when he was in Hell?

Dick cannot remember. Dick only knows how the sound of metal and bones work, how the bullet will hit skin, pierce it through with frightening velocity and dull ache afterwards. The pool of blood will remind him that yes, I was shot.

A sick game of Russian Roulette. Instead of one bullet, there's multiple. A .44 magnum shouldn't hurt anymore. The revolver keeps spinning in his mind where acrobats should be. Where's Bruce. Where's dad. Am I forgotten?

Dick tried to remember how to breathe. Is it that hard? Just pulling in oxygen and letting the respiration mechanism do its work?

Distract thine self.

He tries to remember. Tries. He's trying. Nightwing has to do this. You need to at least remember your name. Your mother, your father. Dick. Dick.

Richard. That's your name. Your mother was beautiful but I don't know what her hair colour is, sometimes it's blonde or chestnut and your father was handsome. You are a Grayson. You have brothers and sisters. Are they Jason? Tim? Da- I don't remember, I don't remember the tiny one. Is he even real? Your sisters too. Stephanie, Stephanie. I have one more, the sneaky one. She's fast but I don't know her name. I'd like to know her well too. Pity I. I don't know her name. I hope she knows my name. That way I can hear her voice and maybe figure out who is the charming one. I know she does ballet. I know she made brownies once with.. Who? I don't remember his name. The old man with cheery wrinkles and deep eyes. I don't know who he is too. Oh. Oh oh. Dick.

[DANGEROUS TO FALL ASLEEP, RICHARD JOHN 'DICK' GRAYSON. EYES. OPEN. EYES. OPEN. BREATHE. (MY LUNGS DON'T WORK)]

I'm begging someone, please. It doesn't have to be Bruce. Get the ballet girl to help me please, she fast and maybe I can ask her name while she gets me out of here.

Bruce never gives up.

You know that too, do you? He's spent 3 weeks finding his son. His beloved child.

Do you ever think how much Bruce's heart breaks over and over everyday?

"ALFRED?! CAN YOU GET JASON NOW, NOW, NOW?! I FIGURED HIS COORDINATES."

Bruce flips from the Batcomputer and grabs everything. A blind haste, he's never dressed so fast. His son. Oh my god, his son.

Jason is down there getting the Batmobile to rev up and they speed.

They speed.

Are they fast?

I guess. If you call 290 in 85 fast.

They run, Jason dashing first and his breath catches in his throat. A cold draught erupts inside of him. He snarls, Bruce turns as he digs through the alleyways. He finds what he knows lurks.

"The sick fucker is going to end Dick in the same fucking warehouse he ended me in. That big bitch.

Bruce puts one hand on his shoulder and squeezes. No time to panic, Dick is the one. is the unsaid message as Jason crashes through the window.

And even him, Red Hood. The one who sees and commits murder everyday, stops and hot anger sears through him.

Dick lies, barely 15 feet away, bound up and covered in his own blood, the ripped Nightwing suit from his recon mission. Bruce picks him up while Jason gladly punched (and secretly plugged a bullet) the fuck out of Mistah J and Harley.

They lie on unconscious, Jason evaluates the scenes, trying to suppress his screams at what they've done to Grayson.

Bruce picks up Dick like he's glass, he hurries to the Batmobile with Jason telling to prepare the Medbay.

"The Medbay.. I.. I don't think. Leslie. Leslie can."

Is all Bruce says and Jason revs up, driving the Batmobile way beyond the legal limit. Bruce doesn't give a flying banana about it. He'll pay the fine later.

Bruce looks down at his son, hoping he hasn't fallen asleep yet. Finally, finally Dick is in the arms of the crusader. Half his domino mask is ripped and Bruce tries to not break at the baby blues staring without any light-hearted gaze.

His heart still beats (A reminder he's alive and could've been more alive. Bruce failed him)

"LESLIE. DR THOMPKINS!"

Jason screeches across and marching in, earning angry stares from the other patients but it turns into gasps and horror when they see Batman carry a limp Nightwing barely clad in spandex anymore. Everyone bows out, knowing they were priority.

Something inside Dick broke.

He doesn't know what it is.

He'll live with it.

"Bruce, he's fallen into a coma."

Leslie says, solemn. Angry tears form in Jason's eye and he was about to fight Bruce, give him the tirade. Compare him to Nightwing.

The unspoken message rings loudly in Bruce's mind. He doesn't need Jason to say it.

You failed him too.

Jason is seething, anger. Sadness a d everything is violating him from inside.

If you were a minute later, he would've died. We would've been carrying his body to the grave. The Joker would still live. You see the problem? DO YOU NOT SEE THE FUCKING PROBLEM?

Bruce sits beside Dick, his pulse like a fluttering butterfly. He grasps his hand in Duck's fragile one and prays.

Prays that he wakes up.

Dick is on a life support machine now.

I guess the ventilator couldn't keep him up. All good boys do die. If not, maybe a part of them broke.

Dick is no exception.

Alfred squeezes Bruce's hand. Jason sits so quietly beside him alongside the rest of the family.

Its April 27th. Jason was taken this day.

They don't say a word, neither does Red Hood, he just wants the baby blue eyes to open again.

He cries.

Five months have gone by and he stirs slowly.

He's barely moving and Jason shoots up and looks, squeezes Dick's hand again.

Baby blues meet emerald green.

Jason dashes for Leslie. She comes and shoos everyone out.

Jason is fucking glad. Dick is alive.

Bruce is disappointed.

He cannot bring himself to meet Dick who's currently in the ward under observation. He's failed Dick. He knows it.

He enters, heavy hearted. Dick is smiling at everyone but Bruce can see it, the hard lines. The sunshine doesn't reach the baby blues. He thinks they've turned into aquamarine, a shade tad too dark. I guess, that's what trauma does to people.

Dick smiles at Bruce, he feels the tension and Dick pats the chair beside him where Jason was sleeping. Bruce softly sits, he has no heart to wake Jason up.

Dick is alive. Dick is alive.

Bruce places one hand on Grayson's one, it feels much more warmer and his pulse is beating normally.

And he breaks.

He cries, tears steaming down his cheeks. An ugly sound escapes his throat. Bruce gasps in air and exhales shakily. Dick watches, silent.

Is this how you felt when I was in Hell?

Dick doesn't touch Bruce, doesn't say its okay and I'm alive. He stares dead into Bruce.

I cannot forgive.

Dick sits quietly, he doesn't have to say it. Loyalty does kill you in the end if you step on all the wrong pieces of glass.

That's when you find yourself falling from the trapeze line, you find yourself swirling again in the memories you wish you could lock.

Loyalty in the end, is your demise.

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spartanbunjase · 4 years

Text

This week’s server sunday random dialoge prompt was:

I continued my Jason Todd/Ra’s al Ghul fic.

Warnings: mpeg, omegaverse, Bruce is rude but he is trying.

All the Batfam are involved.

The Batcave was silent. Jason had been missing for close to six months. His safe houses completely stripped bare, even set alight in some cases. The family had been suitably worried. All except Damian, his only change in behaviour being how oddly quiet he’d gotten.

They all assumed it was because he was missing the one person from his early years who cared for him. They’d pulled him into the centre of their group as they stood around Bruce at the computer. The head of their family had a dark pensive look on his face. Which wasn’t anything new for the brooding alpha. Especially not while he was wearing his ‘night’ suit.

“Robin,” the man growled. The family tensed. It was never good when he addressed you by your code name. The boy let slip a small whimper, trying to hide behind Dick as if he knew what was about to come. “You knew didn’t you. You know where Jason has been this whole time and didn’t tell any of us.”

Before the pre-teen could resist the pack alpha pulled up video footage from outside one of Jason’s old safe houses. It was the one that most resembled a permanent place of residence. Something Jason had refused to have since coming back.

The family watched as the pair exchanged words then hugged. Jason handed the small alpha a package and gave him a quick scenting before disappearing from view. As they watched they saw Damian slip the package into his hand and disappear too.

The omega looked different. Lighter in a way that reminded them of the boy who’d died. His clothes were like nothing they’d really seen him wearing and there was a cuff in his ear that sparkled so much it was clear on the video. He was also smiling, the family realising they’d only seen that expression on the omega’s face if Damian was around.

Bruce then pulled up another video. This one showed the inside of Damian’s room. Dick was disgusted at the blatant invasion of privacy. Curling his arm around the young boy and holding him tightly.

On screen Damian opened the parcel and pulled out a phone. It was a basic model, cheap and easily replaceable. They all knew what they were for. Calls that were difficult to trace. Bruce had cut the video so it skipped forward to the following morning. The young alpha awoke and immediately picked up the phone. Punching in a number he clearly knew by heart. The call lasted half an hour, the pup getting visibly more relaxed as the time passed.

Next to appear on screen was a file filled with similar videos. One for each day of the six months Jason had been missing. Realisation dawned on the family.

Damian knew.

Damian had watched them running themselves ragged looking for the man. Had heard the distress from his brothers as they cried on their father when safe houses were found burned down and no reports of Red Hood had been heard anywhere in the Underworld. Each wondering if they’d pushed him away and triggered whatever meltdown caused him to run.

Unable to control his reactions as the titanium box he kept around his temper shattered, Dick pushed Damian away. Screaming in frustration as tears poured down his face.

The young alpha looked heartbroken. He’d anticipated a bad reaction, he just hadn’t expected to get pushed away. To be outcast, rejected, in a manner similar to how they’d acted towards the omega in question.

“Where is he?” Bruce turned on his youngest. The Bat wrapping around him so he didn’t display the difficult emotions he was feeling. “Where is our pack omega Robin?”

The pup seemed to turn in front of their eyes. Gone was the distressed child. Now he was the embodiment of his parents stoicism. Damian pulled the phone from his pocket and hit dial.

After two rings a sleepy voice came over the line. “Pup? What’s wrong, you’re earlier than normal.” It was Jason. Their omega. He didn’t sound hurt or lost. He didn’t sound unstable like one idea that had been put forward. He just sounded sleepy and, apart from the obvious anxiety over his pup calling, strangely calm.

“Nothing is wrong Ummi,” Damian said. He quickly changed to League Arabic. “The family discovered that I knew where you were but I didn’t want to tell them until you were ready so I phoned you instead.” The young alpha watched Bruce twitch at the language swap. He’d never taken the time to learn League Arabic; never having the intention of needing it. Damian had no plans to teach him either. There were only two people in the family who knew it and both were talking via the phone.

“Ugh, seriously,” Jason groaned. Dick could just picture his brother running a frustrated hand through his hair. He wasn’t speaking Arabic, luckily. Although there was the edge to his voice indicative of a man who’d spent his early years speaking exclusively in Spanish.

Tim stepped between the youngest Robin and their father. Hands held out in a placating manner. “Hey Jay, it’s Tim. We just want to know where you are, that you’re safe, and that you’re happy. We know Damian didn’t intend to let us worry as he did, he did a bad thing for a good reason. Just, please Jay.” Everyone present could tell he was using his victim voice. The one they all had a variation on that they used to help calm the victims and get the most evidence from them.

The omega let out another groan. It sounded like he was rolling over in bed. Sheets being untangled as Jason cursed quietly in Spanish. “Sorry about that Baby Bird, just getting comfortable as I have a feeling this isn’t going to be a quick call. Yes, I’m fine. I’m safe and, excusing this phone call that’s woken me up far too early, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.”

The family felt the guilt land over them like a thick blanket. They’d not managed to make him happy. A pack filled with alphas and betas hadn’t managed to make their only omega happy. How much had they failed him that that was the case. What hadn’t they done to let him know how much they loved him.

A smooth, recognisable voice suddenly came over the line. Slightly muffled as they spoke more to Jason than the phone. “Why are you on the phone so early my Beloved? You must get your rest.” Damian’s cheeks flushed as he listened to his grandfather. He’d never heard the man sounding quite as fond as he did, a softness to the sharp edges that made the man. The man was right of course. As it was around eight in the evening in New Jersey it’d be closer to six in the morning for the couple.

The Bat growled. Ra’s al-fucking-Ghul had his son, his pack omega. It didn’t make any sense. Jason wasn’t one to be easily manipulated; so why was he there?

Another curse came across the line, almost as if Jason had forgotten he was still on the call. “You calm down, right now B! I mean it! Otherwise I’ll come get my pup and you know it’ll be bloody.”

Bruce looked like he was going to murder someone, fists clenching and straightening out as he tried not to punch something. Dick, however, was too lost in nostalgia to notice. His little brother had been chopping and changing between English and Spanish. An adorable behaviour he’d always had in the mornings. It was another thing he’d not heard his Little Wing do since before his death. The list now suddenly inexplicably very long. Well, no, there was an easy explanation but Dick didn’t want to admit to himself that he was the reason they’d not bonded.

“If you bench Dami for doing something bad for a very, very good reason I will shoot you. Or at least order the ninjas that follow you all on patrol, on our behalf, to pull back from protecting you. Wonder how long you’ll last without it.” Jason was more awake now, ranting and cursing Bruce out in Spanish. A sure sign that Jason was getting too angry too quickly. The den mother that he’d become to Damian awakening at the imminent threat to his pup. Even if that threat was only to have something he loved and thrived with taken away. He wouldn’t let the kid suffer for something he’d asked them to do.

Damian whined as Bruce began to growl louder. A thunderous noise that had him whimpering in fear. He’d not had a fear response like that in a long time, not since he’d been a couple of years old. The League and his mother training it out of him. The noise cut Jason off from his tirade, the man always having allowed Damian to be a kid and relax enough to have any response he needed.

More shuffling came over the line and a whispered conversation was almost heard. More noise than words. “Okay, Beloved, if you insist.” Ra’s said, his voice getting louder as he obviously bought the phone to his ear. “My deepest apologies for all that, my Beloved is just getting dressed. He said you would know the code you needed to input in the zeta transport and he will meet you there. I look forward to having my Jason’s pup coming to stay with us.” Without waiting for a farewell the man ended the call.

The pup could feel the eyes of the rest of the pack on him. He had deceived them all, but what was he supposed to do with how they’d made Jason feel. His Ummi was the most important person to him. Damian had just wanted them to find happiness and had known that that happiness would be found with Ra’s since he was a young pup. The man doted on his Ummi like no other alpha ever had, valuing him for his strength and mind as much as his looks.

Training forced Damian to straighten his back and look each member of the pack in the eye. He didn’t regret what he’d done. He couldn’t. Jason had sounded happier with every call. More relaxed and closer to the Jay he’d spent many an hour with in the nest back in the palace. The pre-teen raised his gaze to meet that of his father. That sliver of fear trying to work back in was mitigated by the fact he’d be in his Ummi’s arms sooner than he thought he would be. A plan from years ago now coming into effect if he’d heard Ra’s correctly.

“You have something to say I presume Father.” Damian’s voice was a haughty coldness they’d not heard in years. A boy trying to hide his emotions like the man in front of him.

“That was highly irresponsible of you. We are all coming with you to get Jason back. He is this pack’s omega, not another one of Ra’s harem.” It’s clear the pack alpha expects to be obeyed. His brain visibly blue-screening when Damian tuts at him and rejects him.

“You seem to be mistaken Sire.” Dick cringes at Damian changing to Sire. It’s a great offence to call anyone that in America, even if it is accurate to their role in conception. It showed you place that person lower than pack, lower than anyone you have come to see as a parental figure. A role Dick is now sure Jason has filled for Damian. “I am going to see Ummi. I might send for my things, however, knowing Jason and his alpha as I do; I probably won’t have need of most of them. Richard, I am sure you will know the items I wish to have with me. Thank you for all you did for me while I couldn’t be at my Ummi’s side.”

He cast a scathing look back towards Bruce. Green eyes ablaze with a torrent of emotion. “Jason was just reaching a point where he was going to invite all of you out to stay for a week. I will talk with him but I am sure the offer will now only extend to my siblings.” He bowed, just as he had been trained to do. Just as he’d stopped doing when Jason had returned to the family after Bruce’s disappearance in time and he’d been the Robin to Dick’s Batman.

Without waiting any longer the young alpha marched over to the Batcomputer and input one of the codes he and Ummi had buried there years ago. Take me home. A simple code that would be verified on Jason’s end with; wherever you are is home. It overrode the tracking ability of the zeta and allowed them to travel to Nanda Parbat undetected. It would only work if the person on the other line was there to respond. The code he’d used would be wiped clean as soon as Jason accepted it.

As the swirling light of the transport filled the bay behind the vehicles Damian cast his Sire’s pack one last look. He would be seeing most of them again just outside of the place they all felt most at home. They wouldn’t be being true to themselves. As the light enveloped him, Damian gave those present a wave.

When the swirling light receded he found Jason waiting for him. A car idling nearby and the area clear of all personnel. Damian ran to his Ummi, fully intending to throw himself into them. Skidding to a halt when he realised why Jason had called him to Nanda Parbat instead of collecting him from Gotham. A soft curve barely visibly under the baggy t-shirt. Ummi was pregnant.

#omega jason todd #ra's al ghul #server sunday #my writing #omegaverse #nontraditional omegaverse #batfam #Damian Wayne

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mistkissedmoon · 4 years

Text

Beloved, Beloved

Damian quickened his pace as he made his way to the set of apartments that housed his beloved, biting back a painfully eager smile. Allah, how had he lived without her brightening up his life? His treasured queen, his love, his everything. “Ra’s!” Damian bit back a groan and turned around, trying to hide the irritation he felt at seeing his uncle Dusan march towards him. The albino’s eyes glittered unpleasantly as he came to a halt before him and Damian felt his stomach sink. If his uncle was in a malicious mood, this could end badly and painfully for everyone involved - and a few unwary servants. “Yes, Uncle?”

“Where are you off in such a hurry?” Dusan’s tone implied teasing curiosity, but he wasn’t quite able to hide the greed making his eyes shine and his fingers tremble. Damian bit back a scathing, disdainful scoff. One of the many reasons he had been chosen to be the next Ra’s al Ghul was because he, unlike Dusan, could see beyond his greed, and hide his emotions proficiently. Damian straightened, looking down at him. It was a wonder Grandfather let him live for so long… with anyone but his son, he would have had him killed, and he might have been right to do so. Damian thought idly, rolling his tongue in his mouth. He enjoyed Dusan’s barely hidden fury at his apparent indifference of him, and his larger physique which forced him to look up to make eye contact with his nephew. “I am going to my quarters, Uncle.” He replied lazily, projecting the impression that he had all the time in the world. In reality, he was seriously considering knocking him out and proceeding to visit the warm arms of his lady love. “Why are you bothering me so late at night?” Dusan forced a warped facsimile of a smile, managing barely more than a snarl.

“I thought to interest you in my latest project, my lord.” He hissed.Damian bit back another sigh. Would this day never end?

“Thank you, but I’ve seen more than enough of your projects. I am going to bed. Good Night.” So saying, he spun on his heel and strode towards his bedroom door again. “Why in such a hurry, nephew? Is there something in your bedroom you’re eager to see?” Dusan called. Damian felt a jolt of fear spike. His nostrils flared, before he composed himself, thankful that Dusan was at his back and unable to see his face. He turned slowly. “No, Uncle. I am tired and wish to retire to my room, as should you. Is there a reason you are stopping me?”

“Idle curiosity.” The despicable man shrugged, as if he was not wasting time that could be spent with Raven. “I’ve grown concerned, Damian.” The man adopted a almost believable tone of paternal worry, as if he thought Damian would forget the cruelties and assassination attempts he had suffered - survived due to him. “You’re absent-minded in your duties, you stay in your room like a recluse; why, you’ve ordered the servants to leave your meals outside your door! I’m trying to engage you in another hobby, my boy.” His endearment sounded wrong, and his words dashed between them, soaking into the carpet that cloaked the Al Ghul’s compound. Dusan’s smile faltered, then reappeared, forced. Damian raised an eyebrow, wishing he would leave. “Who told you it was a hobby? I am working on something very important that requires much of my attention. Please leave immediately.”

“A task?” Dusan looked even more unnerving, a sadistic grin twisting his features. “Are you interrogating someone? I can help; you’ve seen my projects firsthand, after all.” Damian felt a white-hot bolt of rage frisson through him and he clenched his teeth to control himself. Just as he was getting his emotions under his control, Dusan retrieved a knife from within his clothing and started edging towards the door. Damian felt his control splinter in an instant, fury blocking out any other emotion at the thought of this filthy man anywhere near his queen, let alone hurting her. The mental image of Dusan dragging the knife over his beloved’s skin snapped what little control he had. “No, Dusan.” Damian blocked the door. “I am simply tired of your incessant blathering, and I do not find any of your pathetic, time-wasting projects to be worthy of my time.” Damian winced internally. If not for his reputation of aggressive behaviour and Dusan’s lacklustre cognitive faculties, anyone could easily realise he was hiding something. Idiot! He berated himself. Something flashed, and he deflected a throwing blade on instinct. He blinked, then sprang into a fighting stance, easily catching Dusan’s fist as he lunged towards him, throwing him aside. Dusan staggered, barely keeping his footing, before twisting towards him, more throwing knives poised to throw. “Show some respect, boy.” The albino grunted as Damian deftly dodged his weapons, letting them embed themselves onto the door behind him with a thunk. “I am your elder! I have lived through countless battles and I am the Ghost! Do you know what that means, boy?! I-”

“Serve the Ra’s al Ghul as their right hand and their lesser.” Damian caught his lunging arm (Allah, no wonder he was chosen as the next Ra’s al Ghul if this was the alternative) and twisted, forcing him to drop the knife with a cry before lifting him bodily off the ground. Dusan gurgled, his eyes slitted with hatred. “I should have been Ra’s! I am his son. You - You were chosen by your father! Why didn’t mine choose his?” His eyes, before so filled with hate, were now filled with mingled pain and envy. Damian released the sigh in his chest and gently settled him down on the ground. “I assure you, it is not a project you would be interested in. Truthfully, it’s dull, tedious work. I am merely attempting to coax a potential ally over to our side, but they are frustratingly cautious. While they will be useful when they are our allies, they is currently nothing more than the bane of my existence.” He proclaimed, relaxing as a flicker of a smile appeared on Dusan’s face.“Excellent, my lord.” Dusan’s eyes softened (softened wasn’t the right word. Damian noted. Perhaps cooled would fit better; some of the malice drained away, at any rate) minutely, letting him know he appreciated the subject change. He bowed briefly before striding back towards his mysterious - and probably gruesome - project, Damian’s bedroom forgotten. Damian closed his eyes in relief. He opened the door and slipped inside, locking the door once he was sure Dusan was gone. He turned and found Raven glaring at him from beside his bed. The sound of the knife hitting the floor must have prompted her to eavesdrop. “Beloved?” He questioned. “Is something wrong?” Raven opened her mouth several times, her hands clenching and unclenching. Finally, she wrapped her arms around herself and quoted, “it’s dull, tedious work. They is currently nothing more than the bane of my existence.” Damian’s fear spiked and grew like a parasite. Was she implying she thought he was serious? Surely not. But the way she was glaring… “Beloved.” He cooed. “I was simply saying that to distract Dusan.”

“… why?” Damian felt his stomach plummet (again) at her small, weak, hurt voice. “I do not want him to know of you, Raven. He is dangerous, my love-”

“So am I.” She interrupted, glaring hotly at him. “And yet you continue to hid me away like some sort of- of-” She gestured wildly, her eyes wild. “-dirty secret! I’m not allowed to leave this room, I’m not allowed to let anyone know I’m here- I- I” She spluttered, swallowing a faint sob. Damian lurched forward instinctively, wanting, needing to protect her, comfort her, as if it were his only duty, stopping short when Raven shook her head and stepped back, almost… wary. Damian’s chest ached sharply, as though a knife had been driven through him. Was she afraid of him? Damian wondered despondently, feeling helpless as she placed her arms by her side. The thought should not have hurt as much as it did. Almost everyone, save his family (usually) feared him on some level, but the thought that Raven might… No. I don’t want her to be afraid of me. Not her, never her. Damian’s heart rate elevated, and he controlled his breathing. “I just - I don’t understand.” Raven sounded dangerously close to tears, and Damian’s heart ached again. “You keep me secret and tell people you’re fulfilling a tedious chore while you’re with me. You won’t allow me into your world - if you don’t want me to stay and help you achieve your vision; Do you want me to leave? I’m not sure where I stand on killing, so I probably won’t be of any use to you, at least right now.” Raven looked defiant, every inch of her the proud, slighted Demoness that she was.

“I cannot deny it.” His head dropped in defeat. “Before you, my greatest desire was to rid the world of crime, be that with my father or as Ra’s al Ghul. Now, it has changed. My fondest, dearest wish is that you stay by my side.” He swallowed, avoiding her eyes. The beat of silence seemed too deafening to last, and so he rushed to break it. “And if that were too much for you; if you grow tired of my world, perhaps you would do my the honour of allowing me to stay by your side? I could prove very useful to you, beloved.” Damian licked his lips, only years of training stopping him from shifting in place. “I can ensure you can live comfortably anywhere, be that in the depths of a acrid desert or the slums of Gotham city.” He scrambled fruitlessly for another reason such a beautiful, brilliant, powerful demon would want him. “I will never betray you; I Love y-”

“No You Don’t!” She yelled, furiously, her voice breaking. There was a painful pause and if Damian’s heart was broken before, it now shrank and withered.“I’d do anything for you.” He vowed helplessly, weakly, feeling as though air had been stolen from his lungs. Raven’s eyes filled with tears, and she looked away before he could see them fall. “I don’t believe you.” She stated in a tiny, quiet, hitching little voice. Damian felt his heart break slowly as she shivered and cupped her arms, stepping away from him in the sudden stillness. She cut quite a miserable figure, tiny and heartbroken and sobbing and alone. Does she question my feelings or her own? He questioned himself, despairing. “That’s fine.” He tried to stop his voice from wobbling - so weak, grandfather would have been ashamed of him - “I’ll prove it to you until you believe me.” Raven gave him a flat, furious, tear-stained glance of disbelief, her silence speaking volumes as she continued to rock herself and his heart twisted yet again. Damian felt himself babble in his desperation, unable to stop the flow of words escaping him. “I did not realise - I’m sorry. I should have -” He cut himself off, unable to find any words that would fix the mess he had created. How long had she been feeling like this? Like she was… unwanted? “I don’t know if I can stay here, Damian.” Her words, usually so lively and filled with vitality, seemed tired and forlorn, her words lingering between them like a fog. Damian stiffened. If she had truly grown tired of his world, what would they do? Would she leave? Would he follow her? Would he be allowed to follow her? The ideas that ran headlong through his head like an elephant’s stampede was each more horrible than the last. What if it was he she had grown tired of? What if she was ambushed while he was unable to protect her? Damian swallowed. He centred himself. That was his paranoia speaking. This was Raven in front of him, and she was hurting. If he could do something that would make her happy again, then he would. “If you wish to leave, I will respect your decision. Will you allow my company on your journey?”

“But I don’t want to leave!” She burst out, frustrated. She paused to take several deep breaths. A faint hope rose in his breast, as torturous as it was a fresh breath of air. He shuddered violently, unused to being so vulnerable, but never once looking away. “I’m sorry for lashing out at you.” She spoke out loud. “I regret that, and I shouldn’t have done that. I don’t actually feel that unwanted. What I should have said, is that - I feel trapped. I’m shut in here all day, and I know you have your duties, but not seeing anyone is… making me unhappy. I know you try to make time for me, but - but -” She took a deep breath, and Damian rubbed her arms in support, listening intently. “I feel like a prisoner.” Damian felt a pang of hurt echo through him, and it must have shown on his face, because Raven winced. Before she could say anything, Damian dropped to his knees (she was so petite) and rested his head on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Beloved. I merely wanted to protect you, but now I see that I was undermining you instead. Believe me, this is something that will be rectified immediately. I will notify the servants of your presence and you will be allowed to go wherever you wish. Anyone who tries to harm you will be dealt with personally, I promise.” Damian raised his head and held out his hands. “And I also promise that next time I want to protect you, or do something involving you, I’ll talk to you first.” She shyly put hers in his, and he clasped them, kissing the top of each hand. “I’m sorry. The last thing I want to do is make you feel unhappy. If you wish to leave; I will accompany you, to wherever you wish to go.” Raven looked up, her eyes glowing, understanding his unspoken words but unable to speak for joy. “I love you!” She whispered, so overcome with happiness she felt almost afraid. She cupped his cheeks, pressing their foreheads together softly. “So, so much. We’ll stay together, always! I promise to love you and make you happier every day… my darling.” Was one person allowed to feel this way? She swayed filled with dizzying happiness. He lifted her easily, an arm wrapping around her waist and the other supporting her thighs as her legs hitched around his hips. “Beloved?” His tone was concerned, an undercurrent of gentle worry woven in with his own deep-seeded joy ripping through him. Raven, however, was too lost in her blissful happiness to answer, tucked under his chin within the heavenly circle of his arms, warm and safe and loved. Damian felt a wave of fierce love engulf him. Never again would she feel like a secret to be ashamed of and hidden away. Instead, Raven would be shown off like the goddess she was; it was not her fault, after all, that she drew attention, he reasoned. Any servant that stared too long or any associate that glanced too covetously would be taken care of separately, Raven being allowed to move wherever she wished. Raven sighed, rocking on his lap until she was secure and comfortable. Damian but back a moan and concentrated on his breathing, drawing her even closer when he deemed it safe. “I like this feeling.” She absently stroked his chest, her eyes glazing over. “You’re so warm.” Damian cocked his head.

“I am glad I can shield you from the elements, my love.” He said cautiously. Raven snorted abruptly, the smile on her face prompting Damian to crack a nonplussed grin of his own. “I meant warm emotionally, Damian.”

“Emotionally?”

“I am an empath.” She hesitated, trying to find the right way to frame her words. “Feelings can take an almost physical strength, when strong enough. Negative emotions are, for lack of a better word, cold. They feel biting, and they seem to suck oxygen from the air itself. Positive emotions, like joy, selflessness, love-” She met his gaze shyly. “Feel warm. Like a blanket fresh from the dryer.” She nuzzled his neck and curled deeper into his chest sleepily, content. “Although, I do love your physical warmth as well.” She yawned, giving no sign that she knew she had sent his pulse into overdrive. He kissed the top of her head tenderly, covering as much of her small body as he could. “I love you so much, Raven. I don’t know what I would have done if you had left.” He said quietly. “Will you stay with me, Beloved?”

“Beloved…” she raised her glassy eyes to his, hope brightening her face. Damian’s traitorous heart swelled with glee. “When you say that, you really mean it, don’t you?” She murmured. She exhaled a shaky breath. “I am… beloved. To you.” Damian melted. He discarded his composed façade and cupped her rosy cheeks, absently noting how both their breaths were ragged. “My beloved. You are the most precious thing in the world to me. You’re the most interesting, fascinating puzzle, the loveliest, most exquisite prize I could ever dream of. You completely possess my heart, my being, my very soul; you utterly enamour me, and I would happily spend the rest of my days cherishing you until you know exactly how much I adore you, habibata.” He cradled her against his chest, Raven having grown soft and yielding to his powerful embrace, his voice deepening into a convicted rumble. “You are the last, strongest fire in my heart, beloved. The hope your mere presence, your smile inspires gives me the strength to challenge anyone who dares threaten us. I swear to you, on my honour as an Al Ghul; I will spend every day you choose to bless me by staying by my side worshipping you… my goddess.” His voice grew soft, aware he should feel ashamed of his next confession, but too enchanted with the feeling of her soft body in his arms to ever feel shame in his feelings. “If you found yourself unable to live with my life as an assassin, I will gladly dedicate the rest of my life trying to fix the world in any way you desire to ensure you know I support you.”

“And as long as I don’t lose you,” her gentle voice sounded like a balm over a raw wound he didn’t know he had as she looked up at him, safe in his arms, her eyes tender and soft. “I would never ask you to give up something so important to you.” Damian felt tears of overwhelming love prick his vision and he buried his face in his neck, breathing deeply. “Beloved…” How had he won the affections of such a beautiful, powerful, accepting woman? “I mean it, Damian.” Her voice, still gentle, was more firm this time, spoke in a rich timbre that made Damian’s stomach clench. “There is more than one way to lose someone. You have me now; please, rely on me to support you - I’ll make sure you stay healthy and don’t bury yourself in work!” She pleaded. Damian smiled at her. How could she even think he could bury himself in work to the point of neglecting her? She was unforgettable, in every moment and aspect of his life. “Of course, beloved. We will rely on each other from now on, won’t we? I trust you; more than I have ever trusted anyone.” He promised.

“You trust me? Is that all?” Raven’s sly tone made Damian quirk his eyebrow.

“Surely you know my intentions for you now, beloved?” He kissed the top of her head lazily.

“Maybe. But I want to hear you say it.” Damian flushed, startled and indignant.

“Beloved! Don’t toy with me like that! If you’re messing around, I’ll-” Damian met her determined gaze and blinked, surprised. Contrary to her mischievous voice, her eyes told him she spoke the truth. He sighed heavily. “Fine. Fine. But I will only say this once!” He warned her, his chest warming at her pleased squeal and the thought of saying words that thrilled him down to his core. He knew he would say this as many times as she wanted and she probably did, too. “I… I need you.” He exhaled. “I need you like I require food; more, perhaps.” He straightened, resolve hardening his features. “I want you to be my betrothed. I wish to woo you; to court you until you have no doubt of the love and happiness you deserve, and then make you my wife. Please say you need me too.” Damian abruptly realised that he was pleading and wrenched his head away, his cheeks aflame. Within a second, his gaze was drawn back to her and he was rewarded with a gasp as she blushed at the way he looked at her and the force of his gaze. “Let us stay by each other’s side, sharing our lives, happy and wedded until we die. I love you.” He let his words linger, his sincerity breathed in every word, not daring to break the connection linking their eyes and hearts together. “I will always love you, forever and ever.” His beating heart was audible in every word.

“I… I feel the same.” Damian pressed their foreheads together. “I’ll stay with you. Because… I love you. With everything that I have - everything that I am - it’s for you. Only you - ah!” Raven squeaked as Damian swept her into his embrace, both bursting into laughter as he hugged her euphorically, spinning them both around in a rare moment of childish joy. They flopped down on their bed, the light of the stars shining on their still-laughing faces bright with love and joy. Damian sat against the headboard, cradling her laughing form between his legs, feeling her laughter against his chest. How could one person be so happy? He looked down at her, inhaling her scent. “You seems so small,” he marvelled, “and fragile.” He lifted one of his hands and placed them against her own, dwarfing them, Raven mock-glared at him, and he hid a smile by raising her hand and kissing each of her fingertips softly, with all the love he could pour into the gesture shining through his eyes. “This small, fragile person saved your life countless times when we were titans.” She muttered, pouting. Damian smiled, her winsome countenance being too endearing to resist. “Yes, you did. Thank you… my beloved.” Damian felt a bubble of pride swell in his chest when she blushed at her nickname. “You know, my love, I would absolutely love it if you called me ‘beloved’ as well. Would you mind?”

“Oh!” Raven’s girlish giggle made Damian smile involuntarily. “I have no idea what to say.” She buried her face in his sweater, trying to hide the massive smile on her face. “Do you think you’ll have an answer soon?” He asked, smiling smugly. Raven refused to leave his chest, slowly flustering Damian. “Raven? Please, I beg of you, say something.” He suddenly didn’t care how low he had to go in order to hear her answer. She slowly peeked up at him, her adorable, blushing face smiling sweetly at him. “If it makes you happy… beloved.” She squeezed her eyes shut, surprised at the contact of his warm lips upon hers and moaned, shivering, into his mouth. She gasped for breath when they separated, a blush dusting both their faces. Her eyes were glowing so brightly it was almost painful to look at them for so long, a veritable beacon of love shining through them. Damian decided he wanted to be the only one to see her gorgeous eyes from then on. The only one she looked at with such deep love and affection. The only one she would even think of calling ‘beloved’.

______________________________

Dedicated to the lovely @andthendk for her wonderful Damirae art! I think I’m going to write a Part 2 as well, so anyone is welcome talk headcanons with me to encourage me!

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kimberly-spirits13 · 4 years

Text

Like Real People Do

Pairing: Damian Wayne x reader

Synopsis: I don’t even know you guys I was listening to “Like Real People Do But Instead it’s Hozier Playing by a Stream” and this was born

Notes:

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1070

In your imagination, the smell of tall grasses and the sound of a running stream nearby filled your senses. You danced in the cool breeze of the meadow in the early summer time still relishing in the mild weather before it became too hot. Everything was calm. Everything was perfect. Next to you, your love. Damian smiled as the old radio played a Hozier song, him twirling you around on the soft picnic blanket laying on the grass. You laughed when he called you beautiful and he smiled to himself when you kissed his cheek. And everything was how it should be and that was where your mind took you as you swayed along to the music.

In reality, Damian was there with you in your kitchen. Your parents were away for the week you were stayed by yourself as you always did. You were awoken during the later hours of the night by a startled Damian on the other end of the phone, out of breath and probably with tears in his eyes.

“Beloved?” He had asked making your heart drop.

“I’m right here love, are you alright Dami?” You had replied still with a groggy voice as you rubbed your eyes.

“I-I just need to see you.” He said softly like the conversation was just meant for you two and no other beings that might have been lurking near, whether good or evil, “Nothing has happened. I need you.”

Your heart melted like chocolate on a hot summer’s afternoon at those words. You sat up in your bed, the warmth of the covers rapidly leaving your side. The feeling of a fuzzy rug under your feet hit next and by then you had told him he could spend the night. You threw over a forest green cardigan on top of your white pajama tank top and light grey shorts and put your hair into a messy bun before walking out into the dimly lit hallway down, farther and farther until reaching the stairs. Once you traveled down the grand wooden stair case you entered into the kitchen.

There was no need for bright lights, rather you opted to light a cluster of candles smelling of coffee or leather. Maybe one with lavender or another, the smell of a summer’s day on a swing hanging on a great oak in your grandparent’s backyard. Smiling at what you had done, the kettle let out a whistle signaling that the water was more than ready. You took out the small, china tea cups each now lit with the golden light of the candle’s fire and gently poured the tea inside once it was ready.

The room was cozy now, the slightest hint of unease quickly being settled as the shadows danced across the wall like the royals of forgotten times waltzing in the grand ballrooms of their palaces. You looked up from your work once a knocking came from the window beckoning you to unlock the latch and let it slide open.

In slid the tall figure of Damian still in his pajamas. You smiled gently letting your thumb graze his cheekbone softly as slowly. A tear rolled from his emerald eyes but not before you wiped it away and embraced him gently, him tightening the hold. The world seemed to have come to a halt, all noise of outside being slowly diminished in the passing moments.

You parted only some to admire his features that were now highlighted in the golden glimmer illuminating the kitchen and for a moment, the world was yours.

“I had a dream that you... I didn’t get to you in time.” Damian sniffled some willing himself not to cry once more, “It was m-my fault again.”

You kissed his cheek softly, “It was no fault of your own my love, our minds have a strange way of reminding us what we’re most afraid of when we least expect it. And when we come out of our sleeping stupor, we have to remember that we are in fact, alive, well, and in company of those who love us, not in the company of a stranger in a far -off dream. Nothing will happen, and if it does, you’ll be there.”

“May we play some music?” He asked after a few moments.

You nodded and went into the living room followed by Damian, hand in hand as if he was afraid that the moment you dropped his, he would never find you again. You ran your fingers along the shelf containing the records, stopping at Hozier.

“Like Real People Do?” You questioned taking the album in your free hand.

He nodded and you continued to the kitchen, reminded by the faint glow of candle light about the still warm tea cups waiting for proper use. You reminded yourself that that could be enjoyed at a later time. You gently started the music, turning the volume down as to not upset the perfect balance of calm that was now stored away in these perfect, precious moments.

Once the song picked up, Damian grabbed your hand once more, “Dance with me?”

You nodded and swayed to the music with him. The only thing watching now were the stars and the angels above. It was serene on a greater level as you placed your head onto his chest, the feeling of butterflies swarming in your stomach making you smile softly to yourself. He spun you around once in the middle of the song making you smile once again.

“You’re more beautiful than the stars and the heavens above Y/N.” He said, a kiss brushing your lips. His touch felt like stars dancing on your skin, and his smile an answer to a riddle that was so carefully created.

You laughed kissing his cheek, “You’re more beautiful than the crashing waves on a beach shore, more wonderful than a sunset over a meadow of wildflowers in the spring, and more mystifying than the stars and galaxies in the sky above my love.”

He smiled pulling you into his arms, the scents of all the candles now forming one and the light becoming now dimmer and dimmer. Your mind wandered to a little meadow along a stream in the mild summer warmth. And that was when you realized, it didn’t matter where you were, you’d always be incredibly in love with the tall black- haired boy that had opened his heart to you ever so carefully in years in the recent past.

#damian wayne x reader #Damian Wayne #damian wayne #Damian Wayne x y/n #robin x y/n #robin x reader #robin #teen titans x reader #teen titans #teen titans x y/n #dc comics #dc x reader #dc characters #batfam x reader #batboys x reader #batfam #tumblr writers #writers of tumblr #fan fic stuff

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punkiesocialonline · 3 years

Note

Hey! Can you do a Host x Dark fic? Like a Platonic/ sorta romantic one where Dark finds theses little printed notes throughout his office with inspirational quotes and stuff! Thanks Squib!

I’m so sorry this is like super duper late! I’ve been off of tumblr for months now trying to get things situated in my home life, but I’m back and better than ever! So, here is the long awaited fic, Anon!

Pairing: Darkiplier x Host

TW:None; Fluff

Dark’s head was throbbing. He had not slept a full nights rest in days. He was too caught up in schemes and plans, along with his additional work of running the office and keeping his fellow egos alive. The latter was much harder than it sounded.

With Wilford always pointing waving his gun around and Yan leaving their knives in places where knives should not be, the work load was more than it should be for a house full of adults. All the Ipliers had been getting on Dark’s nerves lately, except for Host. Host had always been the more quieter egos, but unlike Eric or Dr.Iplier, he was not scared nor wary of the dark ego.

No, Host treated Dark the way he treated everyone. Or, at least, that’s what Dark thought.

It had taken Dark a few moments to process what Wilford had asked him, and even then, he did not fully understand the question.

“I’m not sure I know what you mean, Wil.”

The pink ego rolled his eyes, his smirk hidden under his pink mustache.

“Of course you don’t, you oblivious bully! Honestly, I thought you were smarter than this, Darkipoo. I asked how do you make Host smile like that? He’s usually so cold and...what’s the word, hmmm...” Wilford trailed off in thought.

Dark sighed and rubbed his temple. He did not want to deal with Wilford’s...Wilfordness today. He already had enough on his plate as it was, he did not need anything else to over think.

“Wil, my friend, perhaps we can talk about this another-” he was cut off by a finger similar to his own pressed against his lips.

“Distant! That’s the word!” Wilford exclaimed, removing his finger from Dark’s mouth and cocking his eye brow. “How do you get Hosty open up like you do?”

The older ego thought on that. He had never thought about it before, but he had noticed how Host’s mannerisms changed when speaking with him. Dark always thought it was a show of respect, but the more he thought the more he saw the signals. The problem was, thinking made his head hurt worse.

He dismissed the question with a wave off his hand and hurried off, almost able to hear Willford’s eyebrows raise. He scrambled to his office, his safe place. There, he sat in his desk and put his head down on the desk with a groan. Another annoyed noise escaped him when he heard his email beep.

“I swear, if it is the infuriating Bingiplier I’m gonna-”

Darkiplier was stuck in his tracks once more. There, sitting plain as day, was a yellow stick note on his computer monitor. He did not even need to pick up the paper to see what the messy writing said.

‘Remember to take a break, you keep over working yourself.’

Written next to it, though it seemed as if whoever wrote this tried to erase the shape, was an uneven heart.

Dark knew who had wrote this, for he could tell that handwriting from a mile away. With a shaky hand and his aura flickering, he took the note and stuffed it into his suit’s pocket. Before his mind could go on another journey down the rabbit hole, Dark was out of his seat and on a mission to find the blind man.

Unfortunately, the 3D demon could not find his future seeing counterpart, and the smirk that Warfstache had given him had discourage any further attempts for the night. He watched as the clock ticked from his bed, lost in thought for what had to be the hundredth time that day.

Dark once again, had another sleepless night.

This cat and mouse game of their continued on for a few weeks, with Host leaving sweet little notes in Dark’s office, only to disappear for the rest of the day when Dark finds them. Sometimes he would leave Dark a cup of coffee, or medicine for his headaches.

The notes were simple, but blunt. A sweet, ‘Have a nice day at work.’ Or a caring, ‘Make sure to eat lunch today.’ And Dark’s personal favorite, ‘Your red aura has been stronger than your blue, make sure to be taking care of them for me.’

Now, the two parts of Dark were conflicted. Damian, the hopeless romantic he was, found it endearing and cute, and insisted on keeping every little sticky note Dark found. Celine, on the other, was still heart broken by what happened, all those years ago, with William and Mark. She thought it would be best to just let this pass, and pretend that it was nothing out of the ordinary.

What both broken souls could agree on was this, they did miss seeing Host. They both missed the late night book readings in the library, and early morning conversations, ones where Host would read Dark’s future for the day and with a small smile, send him on his way with a cup of black coffee. They missed the way he would rant about certain books he had read before recommending them to Dark, his smile wide and pure. They especially missed his voice. So soothing that it could calm the two frantic souls with just a few words. So quiet and sweet that it could rid Dark of almost any headache.

Dark missed Host.

About a month into the routine of finding and chasing, Dark found another note, with Host stuck to it. His breathe caught in his throat when he saw the two toned man putting the note on his desk, along with a single rose.

Dark focused all his energy on Damian, stopping the soul inside him from grabbing Host then and there.

Host was not in a much better position. He looked up at the demon, his bandages obviously new and clean, starting to collect blood from his eye sockets.

It was silent for a long moment, the two both trying to figure out what to do next.

Finally, Host mumbles something just loud enough for Dark to hear.

“The Host knew that he should’ve looked into the future today.”

Dark chuckled at this, finally able to move again. He made his way to the younger ego, his steps less confident then usual.

Host sighed, stopping Dark in his tracks again.

“The Host would like to apologize. The Host knows that he must’ve overstepped his boundaries.”

Dark opened his mouth to speak, only to shut it again when he saw the note. From where he stood, he could not see what was written on the yellow sticky, but the thought of what it might say made his heart, that he seemed to have forgotten he had, skip a beat.

Host must’ve sensed where Dark’s eyes were and stiffened.

“The Host will stop leaving the notes if Dark wishes,” the blind man almost whimpered, his face red from embarrassment.

Dark had never seen him like this, so flustered and nervous. This was not the level-headed man he had known for years. He could not believe he had this effect on the Host. The new information of this cemented his decision.

“Host, I would like for you to stop leaving these notes,” he said, trying his best to keep his voice leveled.

The Host’s shoulders slumped. He gripped the rose and sticky note close to his chest, the blood from his eyes running down his check.

Dark looked down, guilty. He did not like that look on his beloved Host.

“I would rather you tell me what’s on your mind in person.”

The male seer glanced up at the dark ego, despite his lack of sight, with his mouth slightly agape. He was afraid that he was misunderstanding the older man. He hoped that was not the case.

Dark glanced the flower and note still clutched tightly in the anxious hands of Host.

“What does that one say?” He asked, reach his hand out.

Host awkwardly offered the rose to Dark, smiling softly when his fingers brushed the other’s. With a nervous gulp of air, he stared at Dark head on, again, despite his lack of vision.

Even so, Dark knew deep down that Host must’ve been staring into his soul. Or, souls in his case.

“Darkiplier,” Host said, his narrating at a halt. “’I hope you have a lovely day. Make sure to take a break. I care deeply about you and only wish for you to be taken care of.’”

He took another deep breathe, he looked towards his feet.

“I want to make sure you’re taken care of...and loved...”

Dark could not contain his smile or aura. He reached out once again, this time for the Host’s hand.

“All of that was on the small piece of paper?” He asked, jokingly when Host’s hand was in his.

“The Host may have improvised at the end,” Host chuckled lightly, caressing Dark’s knuckles with his thumb.

They stood there in silence once more, each man with a smile on his face and a million thoughts in their heads. They did not care about the time, or about the fact that they both had work to get doing. Even the lost souls, who were always shouting and arguing in Dark’s head, were quiet, just enjoying the cute moment.

“Let me take you to dinner tonight,” Dark finally spoke up, pulling Host closer to him.

“A date?” Host mumbled, his mind still obviously at work.

“If you’d like to call it that.”

Host smiled wider, squeezing his demon counter part’s hand.

“The Host-...I would like that, very much.”

Neither of them spoke again as Host stuck the sticky note onto Dark’s suit jacket and trying to release his hand. In retaliation, Dark squeezed his hand harder. Host chuckled, settling for leading Dark to his office door. There, Dark finally let go of Host’s hand.

Host waved as he walked out, his smile still imprinted on his face. Dark waved back, his smile just as fond and evident.

“See you tonight, Host,” Dark called after him, quietly.

“You know where to find me,” was the response he received.

When Host was out of sight, Dark closed his office door, his heart still beating quickly. He found himself walking past his desk with his newest note in hand. Right behind the desk was a bulletin board filled with pages of work. Slightly pushing past those papers of numbers and reports, Dark revealed his collection of messy written notes, all on yellow sticky note paper. He added his latest reason to smile before producing another sticky note from his pocket. This one was a bright pink, and it’s handwriting was much neater and easier to read.

‘Host wakes up early to leave those notes in your office before disappearing to the Septic’s for the rest of the day to rant to Jamison about you. You should catch him in your office @ 7:30.

Love, Wilford.’

With a deep chuckle, Dark added that note to his board as well, before turning to his work, finally. His red aura was flickering wildly, meaning Celine was either angry or excited.

But Dark felt no anger, only bliss.

“Thanks, Wil.”

Authors Note: This Is a good sized fic if i do say so myself. Again, I am so sorry that it took so long. I honestly love this pair and kinda wanna make Host’s POV. You all should let me know if that would be something you’d be interested in. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this! Thank you for taking the time to read it!

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bigfan-fanfic · 5 years

Text

Not a Pawn (Batdad Headcanons)

Requested by @justscribblingnonsense for the moment Damian began seeing Batdad as a parent

Technically, the above GIF is Damian and Dick, but it was just too fitting.

It’s hard for you to determine an exact point where Damian started seeing you as a parent. Not so much for him.

He knows the exact point.

It was very soon after Talia had left him in the care of you and Bruce.

He had tried to kill you several times a day, seeing you as the obstacle to his parents being together.

And of course you had to respond to this with love and grace. Because you had to...

Anyway.

After withstanding all his attempts to kill you through an insane amount of luck and the constant efforts of Bruce, Alfred, and the others, Damian developed a modicum of respect for you, at least. And stopped trying to kill you.

And once he stopped trying to kill you, his grudging respect grew. He’d refuse to let you touch him, but he took your advice in the field and deferred to you in tactics meetings.

He didn’t know what to call you, as nobody would tell him your last name, and calling you Wayne would only legitimize your relationship with his father

So it was a lot of “you”s and “Y/N”s.

But your personality won him over. Your relentless kindness gave him pause

All these years he was taught that kindness was weakness, that anyone being nice was manipulating others.

But you taught him how kindness was different. Kindness was like a surgeon’s scalpel. It some contexts, it cut through gangrene to save lives. In others, it was a deadly tool. He watched as you flattered and manipulated Gotham’s rich into donating to causes, practically throwing money at you to spend on the needy. He watched as you told Bruce which criminals to show mercy to, which ones just needed a little push in the right direction, a single show of faith to turn them around. And he saw the most genuine kindness that you showed to your family and friends, the kind that needed nothing in return.

It’s this kindness for kindness’ sake that gets him. He respects the lack of regret, of fear. You give and give to him without succumbing to the fear that he will hurt you.

No one’s had that kind of faith in him before.

He’ll never admit it, but he loves it.

But things come to a head when Talia returns. She’s evaded Bruce, made her way into the Batcave, where Damian has just laughed at your joke for the first time.

It’s a beautiful sound, his laugh, and that’s why it hurts more when he chokes on it and immediately leaps to attention. And in that moment you have never hated anything like you hate her.

“I am here for my son.” Talia says dramatically.

“Not sure who you mean, dear.” you tell her. “The only kids here are mine.”

Damian is struck. You think of him as yours? But he’s only tried to kill you!

Talia growls. “Is it not enough that you stole my Beloved from me? You must take my child as well?”

“News flash, Talia: Bruce and I fell in love way before you came into the picture. And don’t play the mother card. The only reason you brought Damian here was to guilt Bruce into being with you. Well, I’m not going to let you make him a pawn in your sick little games.”

She draws a sword. “And what are you going to do about it? I will kill you where you stand, and take my child back from you.”

You sneak your hand behind your back and show Damian the smoke pellet in your hand. He immediately understands that you’re going to sacrifice yourself for him. He feels touched and guilty at the same time. But how can he stop Mother from killing you?

“And what if he doesn’t want to go with you?” you snap, trying to make her mad.

She snarls. “My Beloved and I have plenty of time. I can always make more.”

And when she strikes, Damian meets her with his own sword. “You will not hurt him!”

Because he realizes she doesn’t care about him, only what he can bring her. And he won’t let this woman hurt one of the only people in his life who have cared about him.

Damian parries another strike, knowing his Mother is superior in skill. But they both have forgotten that you’re still there. You bean Talia between the eyes with a smoke pellet that erupts in her face and make your escape with Damian, sealing her inside the Batcave.

You hug Damian tightly, and he doesn’t push you away, but throws his arms around you as well.

“I was so worried. You’re not hurt, right Damian?”

“I am fine. I - I am glad you are still alive... Papa.”

#batdad reader #male reader #batman x male reader #batman headcanons #dc headcaons #headcanons

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becausewerebatfam · 5 years

Text

Mother Knows Best

Damian Wayne x Reader

After finally gaining your father’s approval to date Damian a new problem arises. His mother, Talia, also finds out and she is not pleased.

Warning: Violence & Suggestive Content, Damian’s age is 18+

[ Master List ]

“What is this I hear about my son?” Talia may not be involved in her son’s life but every so often she had people watching him and reporting back to her. She lost it when she heard of his romantic involvement with another of Bruce’s live-in charity cases. Damian was a very serious person who did everything properly. He was now of marrying age and if he had started to court someone she felt obligated to asses the woman. From what she had gathered, using the League, you were no match for her son.

Her son deserved someone better.

Bruce ignored her question and asked her to leave but it only fueled her anger.

“Who is this woman that has poisoned my perfect son?” She had yet to see you and was more than eager to confront you.

You and Damian arrived at the Batcave in time to hear Talia’s question. It hurt, but from what you had heard about Damian’s mother it was no surprise. Not being one to fear confrontation you acted before Damian could stop you. “That would be me.”

“Y/N don’t-” Damian called out to you but it was too late. You had left his side and gone to face his mother. He knew it was only a matter of time before she showed up after that run-in with the League earlier in the week.

Talia scowled at you making you question whether Damian got his scowling abilities from his father or mother. She wasn’t surprised at all to see you were also wearing a bat on your chest but she was still sure you weren’t worthy of being the wife of the Al’Ghul heir.

“This is unacceptable-” she pointed at you.

“This,” you repeated with resent.

She had dehumanized you with only one word.

“I don’t need your approval to court her.” Damian stood behind you urging you to let it go, “Don’t listen to her Beloved.”

Bruce stood behind Talia knowing very well that she was looking for a fight. Similarly, Damian stood beside you putting a hand on your shoulder as a reminder to mind your temper.

Talia’s eyes showed a flash of disappointment at the term of endearment. Her son would never show such weakness. “How could you have gotten so weak Damian? Is she to blame, because I can fix that.” Her voice lowered and her weight shifted showing she was ready to attack.

“Are you threatening me,” you ask taking a step forward.

Damian knew his mother had a gun on her while you only had a pair of katanas strapped to your back. “Stand down Y/N you can’t win.”

His lack of confidence hurt but not as much as his mother’s comments. You knew it was hypocritical to fight her when you had tried to avoid having your father and Damian fight. But this was different, your honor was being attacked. You were being dehumanized just like when you were in the lab. The thoughts took over your senses making you see red.

“Listen to Damian,” Bruce sternly warned.

He couldn’t see your eyes but he was sure you were starting to get fired up. He didn’t like how close you two were in distance and in skill. It would end badly if you fought Talia as you were now. He was mostly afraid you would lose your temper forcing him to take you down.

“Fine,” you breathed out unclenching your fists.

You turned walking straight past Damian shooting him a glare, and into the manor where you took your mask off and tossed it aside. In a huff of rage, you punched the nearest wall only to regret it immediately after. The consecutive whispers of apologies that accompanied your failed efforts to cover up the damage evoked laughter from behind you.

“Woah, bad night?” Dick asked after silently witnessing you lose control.

The last thing you wanted was to alarm anyone with your temper. Flashes of memories blinded you. Memories where your hands were bathed in blood. “Please don’t tell anyone,” you pleaded. Bruce would definitely lecture you and take you out of the field if you started showing signs of aggression.

Dick knew you were trying your best to live up to Bruce’s standards just like the rest of them. You had your own demons to overcome. “Only if you tell me what’s got you so worked up.”

You sighed, “Where do I begin...”

“At the beginning of course.”

You giggled at his lame attempt to make you laugh. Guess it wasn't so lame in the end if it worked.

Damian came up to the Manor after getting rid of his mother. He expected you to be mad about what had just happened but instead, he found you smiling in the kitchen as you ate some sugary breakfast cereal with Dick.

That only worried him further.

“Oh, Dami you’re just in time. We’re about to have seconds!” Dick opened the second box of Lucky Charms and poured its mix of marshmallows and cereal into his bowl. Just as you scooped your last bits of little brown cereal pieces.

He turned down Dick’s invitation instead, focusing on you. “Beloved,” he reached out to hold your free hand but you moved it. You avoided him altogether by getting up and walking away.

“Dami wait,” Dick stopped him when he tried going after you. “Before you go after her you have to be sure of what you are going to say or it will only make it worse.”

Damian’s brow furrowed, “What did she tell you?”

“Not much but something Talia said triggered her memories and nearly made her lose control.”

With that in mind Damian went up to his bedroom where you would most likely run off to. He sighed heavily upon entering knowing he would have to admit to a few things. “I understand your anger towards me.”

“Do you,” you asked cross-armed. Damian could be thick-headed when it came to emotions. He loved to mask or deny his emotions just like his father.

You had spoken to him about the lab but it was one thing to hear about it than it was to live it. You did not expect him to completely understand what you felt when his mother dehumanized you.

He closed the gap between you and reached out, holding onto either side of you. “Instead of standing up for you I put my efforts into driving her away. But I had a good reason for that.”

Your arms loosened as you waited for his response.

Damian’s hands slid from your arms to your hips. “I could not risk you getting hurt. I’ve foughten mother- she would not hesitate."

“You think I would lose?”

It was hard to say. “Your rage is unpredictable.”

You sighed, disappointed by the small amount of trust your boyfriend had in you. “Dami-” you tried prying his hands off of you but he would not let go.

“Beloved I know you have come a long way since then. Despite all the provocation, you have managed to control your actions but I know Talia.”

A hint of sadness could be seen in his eyes making you less reluctant to pull away. Instead, your hand went to his cheek, “Sometimes I forget you too had a less than normal childhood.” Your other hand went to the back of his neck where you clung to him.

Damian held you by the waist now, wrapping his arms fully around you. "I do not doubt your skills.” He chuckled remembering the scar on his right pectoral that had remained a souvenir from his first encounter with Y/N Wilson. “I have the scar to prove it.”

Your hand slid from his cheek to said muscle on his chest with a sheepish smile. “Sorry about that...” At the time he had stopped you from a political hit job you had been sent on. The job was long forgotten but you still recalled the wrath of Robin. “But I do think it’s incredibly sexy to see my handiwork on you.”

He knew the feeling. It was comparable to when he would see the markings on your neck the following morning after having spent the night with you.

The hand on his neck pulled down on him so you could reach his lips. All your previous anger had been forgotten as you nipped and sucked his bottom lip. The kiss was being led by you until Damian dipped down and scooped you up holding onto your thighs.

His actions caught you unaware making you open your eyes and mouth, an opportunity he took to explore your tongue with his.

He sat down at the edge of the bed with you straddling his lap. “Promise me that if Talia ever tries to contact you or you run into her, that you will let me know.”

You hesitated for a moment but ultimately nodded. “I promise.”

He gave you a sweet longing peck keeping his forehead against yours after. “I love you Y/N.”

“I love you too Damian.”

With that, you began taking each other’s suits off. Being on his lap, Damian had managed to fully unclothe you fairly quickly while you had only managed to slip off the top half.

He watched you trace his scar with your fingers for a moment before replacing them with your lips.

You stopped when you heard the door slam open behind you.

“It’s too quiet, did you kill each-” Dick quickly regretted bursting in without knocking.

“Grayson!”

Dick covered his eyes and quickly began to apologize to you. “Sorry the door was unlocked and it was so quiet I thought you two killed each other.”

Damian picked up his cape and draped it over you before chasing out his older brother. Even if it was an accident he had seen too much.

When Damian came back he was sporting a scowl. That was the second time one of his brothers had walked in on him. “He got away.”

“At least he apologized, unlike Tim.” You tried to make light of the situation. After all your back had been to the door so he hadn’t seen much. “At this rate, Jason will be next.”

“I’ll kill him again.”

+++

Unfortunately, you were unable to keep your promise when Talia took your prized katanas, specially made for you by your father, and only offered to give them back if you went to Infinity Island which is where you currently were. Although your father would understand the circumstances of their loss it had become more of a matter of principle.

You would not allow Talia to taunt you now or in the future.

“I’m not good enough for your son? You think less of me because I can’t take a life,” you ask incredulously. There is a moment of silence as you try to think of a response that wouldn’t offend her but sometimes people needed to be told their truths. “Bruce warned me about coming here...” He had tried to stop you. “Damian also-”

Talia’s eyes narrowed at you as her chest rose to show her confidence the same way Damian did. “There is nothing you can say or do that will hurt me. I am not weak like you, my son requires someone who will encourage him to achieve greater things.”

“I do that!” You were starting to yell and that wasn’t good.

Talia didn’t know you had blood on your hands. In what felt like a lifetime ago you were once a mercenary like your father. At one point you were driven by anger like the one you felt now but thanks to your father you had learned to control it.

Unfortunately, he never taught you how to deal with someone like Talia. She was a smart, educated woman but her views were too extreme. Logic was beyond her.

“If I could speak freely I would tell you of all your weaknesses but I’d probably only need to point out one to get a reaction out of you.”

“Speak girl!”

Your hands balled into fists ready to embrace the consequences of your words. Oh, how you wished you would have taken a weapon from the cave. “Your greatest weakness Talia is your lack of maternal instincts. I don’t doubt you love your son but it is a twisted conventional love. You only show him favor when he is doing your bidding and when he isn’t you are more than willing to dispose of him-”

“Insolent girl!” Talia threw a knife at you but you dodged it just in time.

“My name is Y/N,” you replied from your newfound ground. The rage had taken over and all you could see was red. The gun strapped to her thigh was your target.

Talia threw a few more daggers your way.

Each one of them missed and lodged into the wall behind you except the last. That one you caught in your hand and threw it back at her with a bit of laughter. She had tried to catch it just as you had but the speed was far greater than she had calculated.

She grunted in agony as the dagger impaled her hand, striking a nerve that made her unable to even feel the whole arm.

You laughed as you approached her with a smirk. Crimson red trails ran down her forearm fueling your blood lust. “Is this what you wanted?”

Talia’s brow furrowed in confusion as you removed your domino mask. She could see your eyes had literally become red.

“Taking a life is easy, there is nothing praiseworthy about that.”

When you got close enough Talia threw a few kicks your way and fended you off with her one good hand as she waited for the League to hear her and come to her rescue.

You were quick, only allowing her to land a few hits while you reached for the dagger again.

“Ah!” Talia screamed loudly when you tore it out.

This time you did not throw it. Instead, you held it at her throat. “Is this what you want for Damian?”

The League of Assassins entered throwing shuriken at you from all sides.

You let go of Talia and used the dagger to deflect the shuriken sending them off into multiple directions.

Talia used the opportunity to get away. Once she was safely out of your reach she used her non-dominant hand to reach for her gun. “Wha-” she nearly cursed when she found her holster empty.

Bang.

A satisfied smile appeared on your face when you saw the dark figure slump to the ground like a rag doll. You could literally hear the bullet break through their ribs before it hit his heart. This was your first lethal shot in years and it felt so good.

The rush of adrenaline, the ringing in your ears... you had to do it again.

Bang.

Click, click... “Empty,” you sighed disappointedly as you discarded the gun.

Talia was shocked to see you had killed everyone.

Her face spoke of horror which made you tilt your head in question. “Was this not what you wanted, what you expected for your son?" You smiled once more feeling light and airy after your first killing spree since leaving your mercenary life. “Surprised by the fact that your son actually chose an ex-merc as his girlfriend?” You laughed at the irony. “My name is Y/N Wilson, daughter of Slade Wilson.”

“Y/N!” Damian called out.

You turned towards the sound of his voice. “Dami,” you muttered as soon as you saw the horror on his face. Suddenly the red had left your eyes but not your hands. You could see Talia’s blood on your gloves and an overwhelming urge to wipe off a wet substance from your face- no doubt blood.

Damian looked around to see the many bodies, neither belonging to his mother.

The smell of iron filled your nostrils and welled your eyes with tears of regret.

He rushed over to catch you as you lost all the strength in your legs. The emotional turmoil was crashing down on you like the unforgiving waves of the ocean during a storm. “What did you do,” he rhetorically asked with a mix of anger and compassion for his beloved.

For a moment you silently clutched onto him. Finding your voice was difficult when you were surrounded by your wrongdoings. “I- I lost it,” you managed to say in a low trembling voice. “I wanted to but I couldn’t, I just couldn’t control myself.”

Damian wiped your tears unable to see you suffering like this.

But the more he did for you, the more tears would slip. Eventually, the mix of blood and tears were too much for him to clear. “I’m sorry.”

Damian swallowed the non-existant lump in his throat. He knew what you were going through, he had felt similar after his year of blood. All he could do was hold you in his arms and stroke your hair lovingly. For he knew, as soon as his father heard about this you would surely be taken from him.

Distracted and withdrawn Talia managed to come up behind you two. She pushed Damian away before driving your own katanas through your abdomen and chest. “You are weak,” were the last words she spoke to you before pulling them out.

You dropped to your knees with blank eyes. The impact had hurt but now you felt nothing. You fell to the side looking down at your wounds. All you could do was stare at the blood as it seeped out.

“NO!” Damian did not know what to do. He could see the life leaving your body as your skin turned pale and your eyes struggled to remain open. His hands went to your wounds but the blades had gone through and through. You were bleeding from the front and back.

“Damian, Y/N,” Batman finally arrived.

“You’re too late Beloved,” Talia threw your katanas aside. “For a moment I thought perhaps I had underestimated her. She managed to do this much only to let her guard down in the end. Our son can do better.”

While his father dealt with his mother Damian tended to you. He ripped his cape and tied bands of it around your torso applying pressure to both the front and back of the wounds. “Everything is going to be alright Y/N.”

You shook your head too drained to speak but wishing he would give up and leave you there. You couldn’t imagine facing him after what you did.

“It’s not your fault.”

How you wished you could believe that. A tear rolled down the side of your eyes before you completely blacked out.

+++

Three Months Later

“Y/N you have a visitor.”

You sat up on your bed as the guard opened your cell. Instantly your heart dropped when you saw Damian. He was dressed as Robin keeping his identity safe from the other inmates of Arkham Asylum.

Even with your private room he had to pass the cells of other villains like Harley and Ivy.

You turned away not wanting to see him. “I told you not to come here again.” Most of your memory from the when you encountered Talia was hazy. You recalled your initial attack of her and the moment she stabbed you with your own swords. The rest came in flashes. But, the moment you woke up to find yourself in Arkham you knew your life would never be the same again.

Damian nodded, “I know.” It was hard to see you dressed in the all-white uniform, your ankle chained to the bed. Your once long hair had been cut up to your shoulder to make it easier to manage.

“Then what are you doing here?” Your voice wavered a bit from the stern tone you wished to give off. When you turned to him your brow was furrowed but your eyes were too sad to truly scowl at him.

Although you rejected him since the day you regained consciousness Damian continued to return. He visited you every two weeks in between your treatments- like they allowed him. “Beloved please understand I did this for you.”

“For me?” You finally let your feet touch the cold floor. The sound of the metal chain banging against the bedpost echoed your small cell. “You locked me up in the very place I fear most.” Your chest rose and fell with every shaky breath you took. The doctors and scientists that overlooked you were far too familiar a sight. “I’m surrounded by the white coats again.”

Damian’s jaw clenched unable to refute your claims. In the past three months, he could see the fear growing inside you. His eyes went to your neck where a white ring began to beep. It was the collar that monitored your heart rate, aka your rage. “Beloved you have to calm down.”

“Don’t call me that!”

The beeping grew louder drawing the attention of a passing doctor. “Is everything okay here?”

“No, get him out!” you ordered.

The doctor went to look for a guard with the keys.

“Beloved this is for your own good.” Damian tried reasoning with you. He held you by the shoulders but you pushed him off.

“Leave,” you breathed out.

He shook his head, “I love you.”

Those three words triggered your tears. The strong facade you had been playing for the past three months broke down with you. “You shouldn’t,” you cried out.

Just as he was about to embrace you the guard came along with the doctor.

You wiped your tears away not wanting anyone else to see you like this. “Sorry,” you mouthed to him.

You wanted them to keep him away from you for good.

The only way to do that was to convince them he had to be kept away.

The beeping started back up as your heart raced. It was a completely inaccurate tool. It hardly was able to map your rage. The memories of being with Damian were all you needed to trigger it.

“No Y/N-”

The doctor pushed past Damian, “Sorry you have to leave the patient is becoming unstable.” He called for other doctors while Damian struggled against the guard.

As the small cell filled with white coats, your fear took over and you became hysterical. You fought them off not allowing them near you. “Leave me alone!”

Damian watched as they forced a needle into your neck that immediately stopped the beeping. You fell limp into one of the doctor's arms as they laid you back into the bed.

“Increase the dosage and bring her in for more tests. We must scan the brain again.”

The head doctor approached Damian with remorse. “I’m sorry Robin but the patient only reacts negatively when you come around. She’s usually pretty well behaved.” He has resigned to the fact that Robin was the cause for your issues. “I have to ask you to refrain from visiting until we run more tests.”

“Tt,” Damian turned away. He knew what you were doing and it was working. “She’s my girlfriend.”

“I understand but-”

“She was fine, there is nothing wrong with her.”

“If you believe that then why did you bring her here?”

He didn’t want to. His father made him. Now he could see it was a mistake listening to him. If he had kept you out of here you would be fine as long as he kept you away from his mother.

Damian didn’t respond. He looked to your cell where you were fast asleep and walked off.

“Boy wonder you really are just as cruel as the bat,” Ivy taunted him. “Sending your girlfriend to Arkham in chains...”

Damian ignored her and continued walking.

“Poor baby Y/N was let down by her birdie,” Harley chimed in. “If I were you I’d watch out for her Daddy.”

Damian stopped to look over at Harley.

“Oh, didn’t you know? Her Daddy knows what you did to her.”

-end-

A/N: Which did you like more: Father Knows Best or Mother Knows Best?

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quillsareswords · 4 years

Text

Crooked Grin: PT.2

Damian Wayne

The room shouldn't be so cold.

Prompt List // Masterlist (in bio)

Your mind is the first thing to meet the world. Thoughts flood your head slowly at first, then all at once.

It starts with wondering the normal things, like why sleep must end, why you have to get out if bed. Then you're wondering why you're in bed. Then you're wondering why you're wondering why you're in bed. Your muddied thoughts become cloudy as you gain consciousness, and gradually become clearer and clearer, until you're laying awake in bed with nothing more to do than take in your surroundings and open your eyes.

The bed you lay on is soft, the sheets like silk against your skin. Softer than your bed and higher quality than your sheets, that's for sure. The room is cold, but the blankets you lay under keep you comfortable. Heavy blankets.

No, not heavy blankets. Thick, yes, but not heavy. And the heat at your back. . . The weight is something else. Something more familiar.

Now the pieces fit together. The scent of cedarwood candles and Irish Spring body wash fit together like puzzle pieces in your mind, and the weight of Damian's arm hooked around your waist seals sit all in sweet honey.

You force your eyes open. The room is darker than you expected, leaving only what was reachable by the light above his reading chair in the corner of his room by the balcony doors.

His room is exactly as you remember it, the same clothes piled tiredly by the edge of the bed, the stack of books sitting upsidedown on his personal bookcase. You don't fight an exhausted smile.

You don't remember much. You remember killing the demon, cutting it straight in half. Then, you and Damian heading for the exit, but he stops to go back and get something. After that, things are blurry and confusing and trying to remember makes your head spin.

You shift a little. Your muscles are all sore, every one of them prominent with the dull ache if use. You discover that not only is Damian's arm hooked around your waist, but his legs are tangled with your own, in a way that made it absolutely impossible for you to get out of his bed as easily as you'd have liked.

You lay away for a few more moments, debating weather or not you'd rather go back to sleep. Fortunately, fate decides for you.

"You're awake?"

Your eyes slide closed at the way his chest vibrates against your back. You hum your reply, lacking the trust in your voice necessary to speak. Your throat already feels irritated.

He uncurls from you and sits up slowly. You roll to your back just as sluggishly, though you suspect for different reasons. You're practically laying under him now, with the arm he's using to prop himself up anchored just above your shoulder.

He looks down at you, eyebrows knotted together above the bridge of his nose. His eyes are swimming with emotions you aren't entirely familiar with on him. "How do you feel?"

"Okay, I guess," you nearly growl. The crease in his brow deepens. "Sore."

"Do you remember anything?"

You opt to shake your head, instead of opening your mouth again and straining your voice further.

"Nothing?"

So much for keeping quiet. "Not after I killed it," you answer in a rush, hoping it gets the point across efficiently. You raise your hand to point through the gap between him and the mattress at his nightstand. "Can I have some?"

He shifts to see what you're pointing at, and finds his glass of water. "Of course," he rushes, as if it was something he'd entirely forgotten. You wiggle your way up the mattress, and use the available hoard of pillows to prop yourself up. He hands you the glass, and you gulp most of it down quickly. You set to sipping the rest.

He sits completely upright, watching you closely, checking for something. What for, you aren't sure. "You didn't kill it, Beloved. You thought you did. I went back to get a few things, and on my way back to meet you it tried to ambush me," he explains, voice tender and soft as apple butter. "You charged in and foolishly used yourself as a shield. It possessed you, for a while."

You hand the water back to him, as you don't have a table on your side of his bed. "I was possessed?" Horror and panic rise through you at a rapid pace, evident in your voice. You mind races until it hurts, and the ache has you clutching at your temples.

He turns to face you entirely, resting a hand on either of your shoulders, prompting you to look at him again. "It's okay, it's fine. I promise," he soothes, rubbing his thumbs in little circular patterns across your skin. "It wasn't for more than an hour. I managed to get your phone from your bag, and called Constantine."

You groan, followed shortly by a sharp hiss, and the vibrations sent pain spiking through your skull. "Great. Now he'll never let me out of the house."

"It seemed like a better option than trying to handle it myself," he defends.

You nod, bringing one hand down to rest a the crook of his elbow. "No, yeah, yeah. You did the right thing. I should have been more careful." You offer him a tiny, tired smile.

A beat of silence, and then, "So, why am I in your room at not mine or the infirmary?"

He pulls his hands away from your shoulders and scrubs them down his face instead. "To make a long story short, no one knew how you'd react when you woke up, so I suggested you stay in the most familiar room in the house, mine."

"And you decided to snuggle me back to health?" You smile again, more devious this time.

He rolls his eyes, planting his hands at his sides. "Well, you wouldn't stop shivering, and we couldn't get your temperature back to normal, so–"

"You know my core temperature–"

"Runs unusually low, yes. You're body was started to get cold enough to cause permanent damage."

You nod slowly. "Oh."

He shifts around again, this time positioning himself immediately next to you. You curl up to him without a second thought, resting your head on his shoulder and your arm over his chest.

"What's John been doing?" you yawn.

Damian takes to running his fingers through your hair. "Pacing, mostly. He fell asleep on the couch last night. He said it was one of the most difficult exorcisms he's preformed yet."

You snorted. "Guess that'll show him I've got spirit."

He heaves a dramatic sigh. "Please, (Y/N), for your own sake, and mine, go back to sleep. I promise I'll be right here when you wake up."

You laugh gently against his chest.

And then, before you know it, you're stealing deep breaths of Irish Spring body wash and cedarwood candles and your own peppermint lip balm, and your thoughts are going cloudy again.

As you drift off listening loosely to the beating if his heart, you can't help but think, what an awful Halloween.

Happy Halloween, everybody! Remember to stay away from spirit boards (because they aren't just games) and to find the best candy spots (because neither is the Candy Bounty Contest)!

#damian wayne blurb #damian wayne headcannon #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne #Quill's Holiday Specials

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richincolor · 4 years

Photo

New Releases

A whole bunch of new releases this week including the long anticipated graphic novel adaptation of Octavia Butler's "Parable of the Sower". What books will you be adding to your TBR list?

Parable of the Sower: A Graphic Novel Adaptation by Octavia Butler, Damian Duffy and illustrator John Jennings Abrams ComicArts

The follow-up to Kindred, the #1 bestseller, comes Octavia E. Butler’s groundbreaking dystopian novel

In this graphic novel adaptation of Octavia E. Butler’s Parable of the Sower, by Damian Duffy and John Jennings, the award-winning team behind the #1 bestseller Kindred: A Graphic Novel Adaptation, the author portrays a searing vision of America’s future. In the year 2024, the country is marred by unattended environmental and economic crises that lead to social chaos. Lauren Olamina, a preacher’s daughter living in Los Angeles, is protected from danger by the walls of her gated community. However, in a night of fire and death, what begins as a fight for survival soon leads to something much more: a startling vision of human destiny . . . and the birth of a new faith. — Cover image and summary via Goodreads

Almost American Girl by Robin Ha Balzer + Bray

A powerful and timely teen graphic novel memoir—perfect for fans of American Born Chinese and Hey, Kiddo—about a Korean-born, non-English-speaking girl who is abruptly transplanted from Seoul to Huntsville, Alabama, and struggles with extreme culture shock and isolation, until she discovers her passion for comic arts.

For as long as she can remember, it’s been Robin and her mom against the world. Growing up in the 1990s as the only child of a single mother in Seoul, Korea, wasn’t always easy, but it has bonded them fiercely together.

So when a vacation to visit friends in Huntsville, Alabama, unexpectedly becomes a permanent relocation—following her mother’s announcement that she’s getting married—Robin is devastated. Overnight, her life changes. She is dropped into a new school where she doesn’t understand the language and struggles to keep up. She is completely cut off from her friends at home and has no access to her beloved comics. At home, she doesn’t fit in with her new stepfamily. And worst of all, she is furious with the one person she is closest to—her mother.

Then one day Robin’s mother enrolls her in a local comic drawing class, which opens the window to a future Robin could never have imagined. — Cover image and summary via Goodreads

Seven Deadly Shadows by Courtney Alameda & Valynne E. Maetani HarperCollins

Kira Fujikawa has always been a girl on the fringe. Bullied by her peers and ignored by her parents, the only place Kira’s ever felt at home is at her grandfather’s Shinto shrine, where she trains to be a priestess.

But Kira’s life is shattered on the night her family’s shrine is attacked by a vicious band of yokai demons. With the help of Shiro—the shrine’s gorgeous half-fox, half-boy kitsune—Kira discovers that her shrine harbors an ancient artifact of great power . . . one the yokai and their demon lord, Shuten-doji, will use to bring down an everlasting darkness upon the world.

Unable to face the Shuten-doji and his minions on her own, Kira enlists the aid of seven ruthless shinigami—or death gods—to help stop the brutal destruction of humankind. But some of the death gods aren’t everything they initially seemed, nor as loyal to Kira’s cause as they first appeared.

With war drawing nearer by the day, Kira realizes that if this unlikely band of heroes is going to survive, they’re going to have to learn to work together, confront their demons, and rise as one to face an army of unimaginable evil. — Cover image and summary via Goodreads

How to Build a Heart by Maria Padian Algonquin Young Readers

One young woman’s journey to find her place in the world as the carefully separated strands of her life — family, money, school, and love — begin to overlap and tangle.

All sixteen-year-old Izzy Crawford wants is to feel like she really belongs somewhere. Her father, a marine, died in Iraq six years ago, and Izzy’s moved to a new town nearly every year since, far from the help of her extended family in North Carolina and Puerto Rico. When Izzy’s hardworking mom moves their small family to Virginia, all her dreams start clicking into place. She likes her new school—even if Izzy is careful to keep her scholarship-student status hidden from her well-to-do classmates and her new athletic and popular boyfriend. And best of all: Izzy’s family has been selected by Habitat for Humanity to build and move into a brand-new house. Izzy is this close to the community and permanence she’s been searching for, until all the secret pieces of her life begin to collide.

How to Build a Heart is the story of Izzy’s journey to find her place in the world and her discovery that the choices we make and the people we love ultimately define us and bring us home. — Cover image and summary via Goodreads

Don’t Read the Comments by Eric Smith Inkyard Press

Divya Sharma is a queen. Or she is when she’s playing Reclaim the Sun, the year’s hottest online game. Divya—better known as popular streaming gamer D1V—regularly leads her #AngstArmada on quests through the game’s vast and gorgeous virtual universe. But for Divya, this is more than just a game. Out in the real world, she’s trading her rising-star status for sponsorships to help her struggling single mom pay the rent.

Gaming is basically Aaron Jericho’s entire life. Much to his mother’s frustration, Aaron has zero interest in becoming a doctor like her, and spends his free time writing games for a local developer. At least he can escape into Reclaim the Sun—and with a trillion worlds to explore, disappearing should be easy. But to his surprise, he somehow ends up on the same remote planet as celebrity gamer D1V.

At home, Divya and Aaron grapple with their problems alone, but in the game, they have each other to face infinite new worlds…and the growing legion of trolls populating them. Soon the virtual harassment seeps into reality when a group called the Vox Populi begin launching real-world doxxing campaigns, threatening Aaron’s dreams and Divya’s actual life. The online trolls think they can drive her out of the game, but everything and everyone Divya cares about is on the line…

And she isn’t going down without a fight. — Cover image and summary via Goodreads

Diamond City (Diamond City #1) by Francesca Flores Wednesday Books

Good things don’t happen to girls who come from nothing…unless they risk everything.

Fierce and ambitious, Aina Solis is as sharp as her blade and as mysterious as the blood magic she protects. After the murder of her parents, Aina takes a job as an assassin to survive and finds a new family in those like her: the unwanted and forgotten.

Her boss is brutal and cold, with a questionable sense of morality, but he provides a place for people with nowhere else to go. And makes sure they stay there.

DIAMOND CITY: built by magic, ruled by tyrants, and in desperate need of saving. It is a world full of dark forces and hidden agendas, old rivalries and lethal new enemies.

To claim a future for herself in a world that doesn’t want her to survive, Aina will have to win a game of murder and conspiracy—and risk losing everything. — Cover image and summary via Goodreads

#new releases #WeNeedDiverseBooks

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kneesheee · 5 years

Text

Little Devil

Warnings: references to torture. references to murder. mentions of death. canon typical fighting.

|eight|

Damian didn’t know how to feel. It felt like millennia since he stepped foot in Nanda Parbat. Even though he knew that it was temporary. He knew that it wouldn’t last. He knew it was only for a moment.

It still felt like home.

He watches silently as the mountains call for him. His mother. His cousin. His sister. His… his brother. He sees how Queen and Lance seem to relax. Yes, Nanda Parbat. A place of healing and enlightenment. And yet, its shadows are coated with enough blood to fill the red sea.

His mother stands before them as she looks upon their home. His brother and cousin flanked her sides. They looked like the perfect warriors that they were born to be. His mother turns her head to glance back at him. He suddenly feels wrong. He had been raised to be the one by his father’s side as his partner. It was his destiny. His heritage to take over the mantle in the future. And yet, here he stood as Robin and he felt wrong.

She smiles at him knowingly, and suddenly, he’s unpinning the Robin emblem. His pulls his sword from underneath the seats of the Bat plane. He tugs his hood over his head. It isn’t much, yet he feels more like himself than he has in long time.

His eyes glow in a way they haven’t since his birth.

He stops denying who he truly was.

Robin. Heir to the Demon. Son of the Bat. The Demonic Prince. A Dark Knight. An Al Ghul. A Wayne.

Damian.

Athanasia watched quietly from the rafters as The Forgotten One’s guards patrolled the cell areas. She had received word earlier that her mother was planning to a raid. Right now, she had to help her mother’s most trusted escape from the cells that her aunt through them in. Lady Shiva. Lord Ubu. Lord Wilson and his daughter Rose. Lord Lawson was also here.

She dropped from the rafters in the middle of guard change and quickly pick the lock to Lady Shiva’s cell. When the next guard came, Lady Shiva was already moving to take her down as Athanasia moved on to free the others.

She bowed deeply as she apologized, “I will like to formally apologize on my mother’s behalf for the offense my aunt has dolt out. This should have never happened, and she will pay dearly for her crimes.”

A small smirk pulled at Sandra’s lips as she waved away the apology, “Thank you, Athanasia. Your manners are impeccable as always.”

Mr. Lawson leaned against the wall, “Where is your mother anyway? How did Nyssa get the drop on her to be able to do all of this?”

She sighed deeply. Troubled. “Mother had been compromised and needed to be sent away for her safety. These past two months have been troubling, but all is well now. She had her a few days of recovery and she’s on her way here to take back what it rightfully hers.”

Lord Wilson chuckled a little bitterly, “Good ole Talia. Can always count on her to come.”

Athanasia tilted her head to the side before she turned away, “Yes, Mother will do anything to make sure Grandfather’s legacy doesn’t end up in Aunt Nyssa’s hand. She also quite determined to make sure my brothers and I don’t end up in her hands. Otherwise, who knows what could happened. Mother would do anything for her children.”

Lady Shiva stood tall. Her back ramrod straight as she gazed upon her, “She didn’t have you bust us free just to stand around. What’s the plan?”

When she turned back to look at them, her eyes were glowing green.

To Jamila, the world was tinted green. She felt at peace. She felt like herself. She was home. A place she has spent many years running from. From where there hiding in the forbidden mountains, she could almost see the area where she dumped her grandfather’s body after she had killed.

A small shudder ran through. She could still feel his blood on her hands. She can still the see the way the light fades away in his eyes. She hears Lazarus roar in her head. She feels how his body slackens. She sees how proud he is. It’s like being under water and just barely hearing his words as realizations crashes down upon her.

You are the Demon Head.

A manicured hand lays gently on her face. She comes back to herself. She’s no longer staring into aging face of her grandfather. Her aunt is staring at her in concern. Again, as she had many times before, she wishes the woman before her was her mother.

“Are you with us, my love,” her aunt’s voice soothes. She gives herself a mental shake. She could deal with her emotions and the ghosts of her past later. Right now, she has a mission to complete. And the mission comes first.

She nods her head once before she is once again turning away. She stares at the compound in which she was raised.

You are the Demon Head.

No. She wasn’t. She wasn’t the demon head. She wasn’t the demon head’s heiress.

She was the Death Demon. She was the Demon of Death. She was an Al Ghul. She was a Wilson. She was Nyssa Raatko’s daughter. She was Slade Wilson’s daughter. She was Talia Al Ghul’s niece. She was Damian and Anthanasia’s cousin. She was Jason’s cousin. She was Ra Al Ghul’s granddaughter.

She was the League’s hope.

Huh. Maybe she is the demon’s head.

She was Jamila Al Ghul.

It was time her mother learned that.

Jason didn’t know how to feel. He hadn’t stepped foot here in a long while. But now?

He could hear the mountains call for him. Standing beside Talia and he felt like a fifteen-year-old boy again just finding out that he died and came back to life. Finding out that his father let his killer roam free. Replaced him.

It was almost enough to spark an aged old bitterness in him. He steps away as Talia comforts Jamila as she deals with her own ghost of this place. Nanda Pardat, a place of healing and enlightenment. He inwardly snorted. This place only picked at old wounds that he thought that time had close.

His team move to his side and feel the burning heat as Kori’s hairbrushes against him. It didn’t bother him. He had been stoned cold dead on the inside for years. If anything, it reminded him that he had much to live for.

He squeezes Kyle’s hand when it slips into his. After this, he should do better by this man. He seems determined to stick around him no matter how hard he pushes him away. Roy catches his eyes and nods at his best friend. He flashes a small smile at Artemis and something warm fills him as she scoffs lightly but he knows he’s not imagining the smile on her face. He pats Bizarro on the shoulder instead of going for a hug.

He squeezes Kyle’s hand one more time before walking back over to Talia and Jamila. His cousin looks like she dealt with her own ghost. His flaming daggers are pricking at his skin.

“Everything ready, T,” he questions as soon as he nears. The two women turn to look at him. Their piercing green eyes run over his form before his aunt gives a sharp nod. She gestured everyone else over.

“Yes, everything should be in place by now. We’re just waiting for---”

The southeast corners (the forbidden quarters if he’s remembering correctly) blow up in a cloud of smoke. Jamila’s laugh rings loud into the night.

“That. We’re waiting on that.”

Damian is staring at his mother with wide eyes, “Mother, weren’t those Aunt Nyssa’s quarters.”

Jamila’s laughter makes much more sense. Talia waves his words away, “It matters not. I’ve been meaning to redecorate. Come now. This way. We’ll be moving through the secret corridor in Father’s old quarters. I thought that it’d come in handy one day and I was right.”

Jason spared a small glance back at his comrades, “Let’s go.”

They were smart enough to know not to mention his gleaming red eyes.

It was surprisingly easy to get throw the compound filled to the brim with rogue soldiers. Talia can admit that. Though she was greatly appalled that these were the warriors that her sister assigned for her own protection? She honestly feltlike she was in one of the martial arts classes’ that Jason used to drag her to. The ones were the martial arts teacher obviously had no idea what they were doing. Black belts? More like on the brim of blue and purple.

Hardly good enough to stop her.

Jamila’s already pulling a hidden tablet from the floorboards right outside of Father’s offices. She hands the device over to Talia and her fingers fly over the keyboard as she shuts down the system.

Feet are running in their direction and Jamila’s flickering her guns out. Her ponytails bounce as she stalks into the hallway. Her Beloved moves to follow her. Probably to stop her from killing like the rest of his brood have done since they’ve entered the building.

“I will not hesitate to put right through your dick, Batman,” Jamila growls without turning around. “Back off.”

And then she gone around the corner. The sound of gunshots and metal hitting flesh is heard. Laughter so dark and ugly. Screams of pain.

Talia is searching the security systems and cameras trying to pinpoint Nyssa’s location. Trying to make sure she doesn’t have her daughter.

“Please. Please. Don’t kill me. Let me go. PLEAS---”

Pointed silence met Jamila as she walked back into the room. She scoffed lightly, “There still alive.” Only Talia heard the for now in the air.

Standing back to full height, she turned towards them. Her gaze was still on the tablet in her hands. “She’s recalling all of her men to her. She will no doubt have my nephew at her side. We will cross through Jason’s quarters and then take the long way around through Damian’s old quarters then make our way into the throne room. I’ll send off word for our inside team to meet us at the crossways between mine and Jamila’s quarters.”

Talia paid no mind to whisper of Jason’s lover questioning the others of just how big the compound was. She’s already moving, and her strides doesn’t stop as she snatches one of these lowlifes’ thugs’ guns off the ground as she heads towards her sister.

Its time to end this.

Maybe she’ll plunge her into a Lazarus pit over and over and over again until the only thing she knows is pain and angry and green. So much green.

She’s moving on autopilot as she takes down any assailant coming her way. A part of her that stills there keeps from killing them at that moment. If they just so happen to die from their wounds, well what’s one less worthless piece of trash in the grand scheme of themes.

She’s tossing some man the size of Ubu over her shoulder. Her heels click as she continues down the hall. Jason and Jamila jump out in front of her and take down more men. Damian is spinning through the air as his sword twirls alongside him.

Her stride never breaks.

They were almost to Jason’s quarters. She didn’t even blink when a glowing green starblast hit someone square in the chest. She casually stepped of the way of a glowing green hand pulling men up from the floor.

She nodded her head at the Amazon as she swung her battle ax through the air. She accepted the hand from the clone as he flew her over some women looking like pincushions from various arrows.

She’s fighting back to back with her beloved. It felt like old times before everything went to hell. Before the world turned green. Green with jealousy. Green. Green. Green. She remembers Nyssa. Her sister. And it hurt so bad. The green. It hurt her.

She smashes some man’s head into the glass table.

Talia keeps on walking.

A scream pierces the air and a man close flying through the window.

They’re almost to the crossways.

She reloads her gun.

The barrel of her gun is pointed at a mask face. Jamila has one pressed against a wall with a knife pressed tightly to their throat. The green fades away as a hand clasps her shoulder. She blinks and she’s looking into an orange and black mask. Ubu is once again by her side. Jamila releases her sister.

She can’t see it, but she knows that Slade is smiling mockingly at her. Its out of character for her. At least to Bruce and the rest of his brood and allies. But she’s laughing and punching Slade on the shoulder lightly.

“The Princess is storming the castle,” he jokes lightly and she’s laughing again. “I have to protect the crown.”

He’s stepping out the way and gesturing down the hall, “Well don’t let me stop you.”

“You won’t.”

And then she’s turning towards her daughter. She hugs Anthanasia tightly and run her hand over her daughter’s face. She sees small wounds and bruises appearing on her skin. Anger lights up her entire being. Jamila is behind her placing her hand on either side of Anthansia’s face before turning her head side to side. She captures the girl into a hug.

Talia doesn’t look back to see the shock on her beloved’s face. Now is not time. She’s moving again and she doesn’t have to look back to know that Jamila and Ubu and Anthanasia and Jason have all blocked Bruce’s access to her. Sandra is at her side and she could feel amusement dripping off her friend.

They’re moving together again as they take down the last of the stranglers. Both flipping through the air wrapping their lips around their opponents’ necks.

Ubu pushes the doors to the throne room open forcefully. Its basically an army standing before. Talia holds up the tablet in her hands. She types in the code to the prison cells without looking knowing that all her agents were in there.

The exiled warriors’ part like the red sea. She sees her nephew first. Standing at the side of the throne like she did many years ago at her father’s side. He looked so dutiful. So, brainwashed by the ideals that were not his own. She will save him.

Green meets green.

“Hello, sister.”

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chibinightowl · 5 years

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Down the Rabbit Hole, Chapter Eight (end)

Well. Has it really been an entire year since I started this story? Apparently it has. Happy birthday once more to the amazingly talented @tanekore!!!

Read the previous chapters on Ao3!

~*~*~

In the cool darkness of the Batcave, Tim sits beside Jason’s bed and watches as the Martian Manhunter probes the dream of the one he loves. It’s been almost two full days since he’s heard that voice and the sarcastic yet witty comments that practically define Jason. He misses him so much even though he’s laying right here in front of him.

Dick is seated beside him, having claimed oldest bird privilege when he displaced Damian, who hovers around the end of the bed while Bruce and Alfred wait across from him and Dick. It’s been almost an hour since J’onn entered Jason’s mind, his expression remaining as cool and unflappable as always.

The straps have been put back in place, the reprieve from earlier over and done with as Jason resumed the activity occurring in his head. If Tim had to guess, there’s a lot of running and walking involved as his legs have been in almost constant motion, twitching and jerking about. Something else apparently happened too, much to his surprise earlier in the afternoon when he woke up and spelled Alfred from his vigil.

Tim is quietly glad no one else was around for that as it raised more questions than it provided answers. He still wonders who Jason is dreaming about, who it is that made him cry out and find his release like he did. It would be nice if it’s him; in fact, he really hopes it is, but he refuses to begrudge Jason his happiness, even if it is only a dream.

They have so few of those moments as it is with the life they lead.

J’onn finally looks up from his intense study, though his hands remain on either side of Jason’s head. Everyone tenses, waiting on his words. “The Red Hood is lost inside his own mind. He has created an entire world of his own, full of people that hold particular meaning to him, good and bad.”

“Can you get him out?” Bruce asks roughly. His face is lined with worry.

“I can, but it will be difficult unless I have his cooperation. He believes that he has to complete a quest to find a particular sword and return it to its rightful owner before he’ll be shown the way home.”

“Does he know that he’s dreaming then?” Tim interjects before Bruce can.

“Yes. From what I’ve gleaned of his thoughts and memories within the dream, he was growing fearful that it wasn’t, that he was somehow trapped in a different reality. But recent events have made the Red Hood reevaluate that belief.” J’onn’s voice takes on a warning note. “However, while he is on the verge of completing his quest, there no guarantee that he will wake up on his own. He might very well stay locked in that world until the end of his days.”

Dick surges to his feet. “We’ve got to get him out of there now. It can be done before the quest is complete, right?”

“I believe so, yes.”

“In case you’ve forgotten, there’s another person in this same state,” Damian adds, always the one to play devil’s advocate. “The man Todd was fighting when he got gassed, he’s also like this.”

“We'll take care of him next,” Bruce states firmly. “At least we know whatever this particular toxin is, it runs its course on its own. Jason’s bloodwork and the spinal tap from earlier are completely clean.”

“Then why hasn’t Todd woken up on his own?” Damian counters. “If the toxin is gone, then he should have by now.”

Dick shakes his head. “The mind is a tricky thing, D. As I’m sure J’onn can attest to.”

“It most certainly is.” The Martian nods in agreement, his long fingers still laced against Jason’s skull. “In his dream, the Red Hood is about to do battle with his greatest nightmare. His sole ally has left him in favor of his own beloved one. It is possible that I can bring him out before the battle commences, but the Red Hood has discovered he has some semblance of control over the dream itself. I suspect that if I were to try and remove him on my own, he would resist me, so great is his desire to purge this evil from his mind.”

He pauses, and glances around at each of them.

Tim can see what he’s about to say from a mile away. “If anyone is going to retrieve Jason from the inside of his own head, it’ll be me,” he says before anyone else can speak up.

Bruce opens his mouth to protest, but Dick rests a hand on Tim's shoulder. “I’m with Tim on this one.”

J'onn is already nodding, even as Bruce looks like he’s swallowed a sour grape. “The close relationship between the Red Hood and Red Robin should be more than enough to convince him.”

“I will not risk losing both of them,” Bruce snaps, eyes hot as he struggles to contain himself. Risking their necks out on the streets each night is one thing. Out there, the enemy is tangible and can be fought with their fists or their wits. But this?

It’s all in Jason’s head.

And considering some of the things that he still has nightmares about, going in there may be even more dangerous than what they face out here in the real world. Jason often jokes that the universe likes to use him as a punching bag and there are times Tim believes he’s not entirely off the mark.

“Bruce, you can’t make that decision for me,” Tim replies levelly. “Everything we do, each night we go out there, we don’t know if we’ll come back. But we do it anyway because we believe in our training and each other. We believe in you, so please, have a little faith in us. In me.”

The cave is eerily quiet as Bruce struggles, torn between his own desire to be the one to save his son, the one he’d failed to save before, and to let his other son be the hero he’s more than proven himself to be.

“Fine,” he finally says gruffly and looks away.

Alfred pats him on the shoulder. “Good lad,” he murmurs.

Tim lets out a breath he didn’t realize he’s been holding.

“Okay, so now that that’s been decided,” Dick speaks up to break the tension. “How is this supposed to work, J’onn?”

The Martian gestures toward the bed. “It will be easiest if you lay beside the Red Hood, Red Robin. I will lull you to the cusp of sleep and when you are about to enter your own dream, I will direct you into the Red Hood’s instead.”

That sounds simple enough and Tim hops up to settle in as best he can next to Jason. The straps are in the way, but with how he’s twitching and occasionally thrashing, they’ll have to stay in place.

“What exactly is Todd dreaming about, Martian?” Damian asks from the end of the bed. “You mentioned a sword quest earlier.” He actually sounds curious, probably because a sharp, pointy object is involved.

J’onn places a hand over Tim’s eyes, blocking the overhead light. Instinctively, Tim closes them. Time to get this show on the road.

“He is about to face off against a foe known as the Jabberwocky with a blade called the vorpal sword. For most of his quest, he was with person called the Cheshire Cat, but he has just left the Red Hood to retreat from the battle with a mind-controlled man who was formerly the White Knight.”

Dick snorts and even Damian scoffs. “The fool is dreaming he’s in Wonderland?”

“I don’t see anything wonderful about it,” J’onn states in his somber tone, fingers gently settling over Tim’s temples. Lethargy flows through him and Tim feels more relaxed than he has in years. It’s a shame he can’t fall asleep like this every night. “The Red Queen is Harley Quinn and the Joker is the Jabberwocky.”

Oh, shit. This isn’t going to be easy. Far from it.

~*~*~

Jason has the distinct impression he’s walking into a gunfight with the wrong weapon. Not that the vorpal sword is a bad weapon, far from it. What sucks is that he’d rather not have to get anywhere close to the Joker if he can avoid it. One shot right between the eyes is too merciful for that shit stain Bruce will never let him eradicate, but he’s vowed to himself that if the opportunity ever comes, he’ll do it and to hell with the consequences. He messed up once before and he won’t do it again.

Tim knows this too. When they were still feeling their way around in the beginning of their relationship, Jason made this fact crystal clear because he wouldn’t go further if Tim couldn’t accept it.

The little shit did, actually. But what blew Jason’s mind was his own story about how through a series of carefully orchestrated events, Tim almost killed Captain Boomerang, the man who murdered his father. The piece of garbage that the universe gave another chance to, that at times he wishes he still had the conviction to finish the job.

Yeah, Jason can relate.

The Joker’s rictus grin grows the closer he gets to the house, a constant between the two forms he’s shifting between. “You never answered my question, bird boy,” he calls out, holding up a crowbar that’s dripping blood. “Forehand or backhand?”

Fuck the mind-games already. He doesn’t want to deal with them, not now, not ever again. “Who says you’re any good at either of them?”

That earns him a pouty frown and a flicker into the beast his mind apparently has conjured for the Jabberwocky. He rises up, towering higher than the house like a demon from the depths of hell. “You will die here, Jason Todd,” the Jokerwocky howls. “Unloved. Unwelcome. Completely and utterly alone.”

“Dramatic much?” a wry voice comments from behind Jason. “Seriously, I know you’re a drama queen, Jay, but this is ridiculous.”

What the fuck?

Jason looks over his shoulder, then turns fully because his mind has to be playing tricks on him. There is no way Tim is standing there. His Tim, with his stupid black cowl that looks like a condom and even stupider oh shit handles strapped across his chest.

It can’t be him. Especially since his Tim doesn’t walk around with a large green lizard on his shoulder that has rather familiar beady red eyes.

Tim pushes back his cowl, revealing bright blue eyes that Jason could lose himself in for days. “Come on, Jay. It’s time to wake up.”

“You’re not here. You can’t be here.” Christ, but does he want it to be real. Tim-Cat is all well and good, but there’s no one he’d rather have to watch his back than his Tim. The real Tim.

“I’m here thanks to J’onn.” Tim gestures at the lizard. “I think you’ve met the Martian Manhunter before, right? We called him in when you wouldn’t wake up. We’re all physically in the cave, Jay. You and me, sleeping. Dick, Bruce, Alfred, even Damian, they’re all waiting for us.”

Jason scoffs. “Like that brat would ever want me to open my eyes again.”

“You’d be surprised. He expressed actual concern for your well-being before J’onn put me to sleep.”

That’s something he’d pay good money to see.

Behind him, the Jokerwocky screams in anger. “You are mine! Mine to destroy, mine to enslave! Mine!”

It’s the fact that the Joker is pitching a bitch fit over Tim’s words that convinces Jason he’s real.

“Tim?”

He takes a step closer and holds out his hand. “I’m here, Jay. You don’t have to fight the Joker. Just take my hand and we can wake up. All of this is just a dream.”

Jason sighs, shaking his head while sheathing the vorpal sword. “That’s just it, Tim. I want to fight him. I want to kill him. Who knows if I’ll ever have the chance in the real world? We’re all here in my head, so what does it really matter?”

Tim frowns. “Is this the only reason why you don’t want to wake up?”

The Jokerwocky howls and flaps his massive wings, sending gusts of wind out across the overgrown lawn strong enough to make Jason and Tim stagger. “Yes, fight amongst yourselves! You will never leave! HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!”

“Shut the fuck up while the adults are talkin’, you piece of shit!” Jason snatches one of his guns and fires it at the Joker, wishing the bullets were real instead of rubber. While he’s at it, might as well wish for a rocket launcher.

The Joker screams in pain but oddly enough, doesn’t attack. It occurs to Jason that the beast appears to be metaphorically chained to the house and can’t move past it, so they can mostly ignore him. Which is fine with him because he’s got some business to hash out with Tim. Perhaps he’s not quite as on board with his real-life plans after all.

“Tim, I know this is a dream. I want to wake up. But before I do, I just wanna do this one thing. Just let me kill him and we can get out of here.”

A dream that has been so damned real that it’s almost painful to want to leave. But it’s not like Tim-Cat is real and besides, he’s got his Knight back. Even if this wasn’t a dream, chances were likely he wouldn’t want to shack up with them both. He sure as hell wouldn’t want to live with two Tims. They’d probably end up burying him alive somewhere and running off together.

It doesn’t look like Tim is convinced. “How does killing the Joker in a dream do any good when he’s still alive out there? That’s where it matters, not in here. I know you want that, if the opportunity presents itself and I’ve said I won’t stop you.”

He also said he wouldn’t help him either.

“What if that doesn’t happen though?” Jason persists. “Maybe this will be almost as cathartic as the real deal. Maybe, just maybe, killing him in here will finally mean I can sleep through the night in peace.”

Not every night because their lives are shit for that to even be a remote possibility, but perhaps he’ll be able to wake up next to Tim and not be covered in sweat from the terrors that stalk his nightmares.

Tim glances at the Jokerwocky still raging behind him and back to Jason. The pensive look on his face tells him that he’s about to give in, but with misgivings. “J’onn seems to be on your side,” he comments idly. “Not that he’s giving a reason why.”

Jason has almost completely forgotten the third member of their little party. Big mistake there as the Martian Manhunter is one of the most powerful members of the Justice League, a fact easily overlooked considering how reserved he is compared to other members. Back in his Robin days, he’d never heard Bruce speak of him with anything other than respect. He could probably yank them all out of here in a heartbeat.

So why hasn’t he? He remembers seeing the lizard earlier before he and Tim-Cat stormed the hedge. J’onn could have woken him up right then and there instead of letting him get up in the Bandersnatch’s business and wander into that psychedelic nightmare of a house. It’s almost as if he wants him to complete his quest...

Gleaming red eyes stare back at him and Jason swears he winks.

Well, well, well.

Tim frowns harder. “You are so damned stubborn.”

“You say that like it’s a surprise.”

“Let’s get this over with.” Tim jerks his head toward the house. “Now make up your mind. Hell beast or human?”

A victory is a victory and right now, he’ll take what he can get. Jason grins as he turns his attention back to the Jokerwocky. The flickering is worse now, switching from one terrifying visage to the other and back again. All he has to do is decide.

The demonic beast is frightening beyond belief, black as sin and the darkness that haunts his deepest nightmares. Stifling pitch darkness that surrounds and suffocates him, that has him clawing for air and freedom and light. But for all of that, it’s not what tortures him most.

Night is followed by day, after all. Tim, hell, even the rest of his family, have taught him that. The lesson just took a few years to sink in. Jason can just hear Damian muttering about him being a slow learner.

Just like that, the beast disappears, leaving a man clutching the railing across the front of the house with a grin so wide that it would put the original Cheshire Cat to shame.

“Ready to come and play, birdbrain?”

Jason is more than ready and resumes his steady march back toward Arkham, this time with Tim keeping pace at his side.

“What’s the plan?” Tim asks, voice pitched low.

“Keep an eye out for Harley. She’s around here somewhere.” Better that Harley becomes Tim’s problem, it’ll give him one less thing to worry about. The vague concern about having to take on both the Joker and his annoying as fuck, but no less deadly psychotic girlfriend dissipates. Why can’t the Harley in his dream be the same as the one out in the real world? That one would be marching right along with them with her giant fucking mallet to beat the shit out of her former puddin’.

“Fine, but what’s your plan for taking him on?”

“It’ll come to me.”

“In the next ten seconds or so?”

“Sure.”

Truth be told, Jason has no set plan for killing the Joker. He knows how he’d prefer to do it, but a sword isn’t exactly the right weapon for shooting someone. It means he has to get right up close and personal, parry that damn crowbar a few times before the blade breaks it and he can make with the stabbing.

Too many things can go wrong with that scenario. It’s the Joker and his nightmare, so why would things go right?

As they approach the steps to the wide portico, the Joker comes to meet them, his stride long and nonchalant, like this was nothing but a walk in the park for him. In one hand is the crowbar that still drips blood from some unseen source. He stops at the top of the steps to face them, tapping the tip of the bleeding metal against his other hand with wet smacks that send splatters of red flying.

Jason’s memory helpfully provides another time he and the Joker faced off over a crowbar and his ribs twinge in agony.

Gee, no, his imagination isn’t fucking with him, really. Nope, this is all nice and normal, right here.

“Alright you fuckin’ clown. Let’s get this over with so I can wake up.”

The Joker’s grin grows wider, his teeth stained yellow under the pale light of the moon. “You will never wake up, Jason. It’s just you and me and the crowbar for as long as your heart beats. Those others are lying to you, just as they always have. No one wants you except for me, little robin.”

He breaks off into another maniacal laugh.

Jason shakes his head and lets the words fall away. Once upon a time, he’d have believed them, he really would have. But while he has many doubts about his place in Gotham, in his family, there is one relationship he doesn’t, and that person stands by his side. “Jesus Christ, you are such a fuckin’ liar.”

His hand falls to his waist to grasp the hilt of the vorpal sword.

But rather than unsheathing a sword, he raises a gun, the gleaming silvery metal a match for either of the .45s strapped to his thighs.

“What the hell?” Tim gapes at the weapon the vorpal sword has morphed into.

Jason doesn’t question it. His dream, his weapon. Finally, something is going his way. He flips the safety and takes aim. “Tweet, tweet, motherfucker.”

Okay, so it’s not the most original line in the world, but damn is it satisfying.

The gunshot rips through the night with a snicker-snack, and the Joker appears surprised at the unexpected assault, eyes crossing as he tries to take in the hole that now adorns his forehead. But Jason is confident that the vorpal sword picked up on his preferred ammo, so while the damage to the Joker’s face is rather minimal, there’s nothing left to the back of his head after the bullet ripped apart his brain and shattered against the skull.

The Joker falls to the ground, a puppet who’s lost his strings. The crowbar lands beside him, a soft thunk as it falls from that long-fingered grip.

One, two! One, two! And through and through, the vorpal blade went snicker-snack! He left it dead, and with its head, he went galumphing back.

Tempting as it was to decapitate the Joker, there really wasn’t much left of his skull to make it worth his while. Besides, Jason doubts the White Queen really wants to mount the Jokerwocky’s head on her wall.

Tim-Cat is an entirely different story.

A loud wail echoes from the Asylum as Harley makes herself known. “Puddin’! My puddin’!” Her cries fade away as the house shudders again, foundations cracking and quaking as the earth heaves.

Jason grabs Tim’s shoulder and yanks. “Run!”

For the second time that night, he races toward the hedge and the safety of the garden beyond. Behind him, wood splinters and stone groans as Arkham Asylum is swallowed into the ground, sinking into the caves beneath the surface.

Tim is hot on his heels, cape whipping behind him as he keeps pace.

There’s no Bandersnatch blocking the way, so Jason stops to catch his breath as soon as they reach the trees.

“What…happened?” Tim gasps, sucking in air like it’s going out of style. They’re both in great shape, but a sprint of that magnitude is bound to make them both need to relearn how to breathe.

Rather like how they did the first time they’d had sex.

Jason holds up the vorpal gun that’s still clasped tightly in his hand. “I shot him.”

“No shit, Sherlock.” Tim pushes away from the tree he’s leaning against. “Since when has the vorpal sword been able to turn into a gun?”

“The vorpal blade takes whatever form it’s bearer needs it to.” The voice speaks from up in the branches of the tree. “My Knight is swordsman. You are a gunman. Didn’t you know that?”

Tim-Cat drops gracefully to the ground.

Jason wants to choke at the sight of two Tims standing before him. “No, I didn’t,” he replies somewhat testily as his Tim stares in amazement at his doppelgänger. “Don’t cha think that would have been a helpful bit of information to share?”

The Cheshire Cat is staring just as curiously at his human counterpart. “I was distracted,” he replies, clearly not paying Jason much attention.

“Why are you here?” Jason asks, holstering the gun. “I thought you’d be further along with your Knight.”

“He and the Bandersnatch are under Absalom’s care. She’s one of the most trusted agents of the White Queen.” Tim-Cat finally tears his gaze away from Tim’s. “I came back because I thought you’d need help.” He smirks, fangs flashing in the moonlight. “But I see I was already with you.”

Tim slowly shakes his head. “Jay, is this how you see me? Really?”

The grin sharpens. “How do you think I feel? My Knight and your Jason are identical in all ways. Right down to that little thing they do with their –”

“Okay, that’s enough!” Jason steps forward before Tim-Cat can finish that sentence. “No one is comparing notes here, got it?”

The look Tim gives him says they’re having a long talk later. Great. Just great.

Jason unclips the vorpal gun from his belt to hand it over to Tim-Cat. “Here. According to that green lizard, I don’t have to actually return this to the White Queen in order to wake up. But I do want to give it to you.”

Tim-Cat accepts it, claws wrapping around the grip. As Jason lets go, the vorpal gun morphs again, this time into a long, slender staff that is all too familiar. “Thank you for returning this to us, Jason. My queen appreciates your efforts.”

The words are stiffly formal, but Jason is fluent in Tim-speak and knows that look behind those eyes, even slitted as they are. “And you? Do you still think I’m an asshole?”

Those luminescent orbs blink wetly before Tim-Cat slinks forward and wraps his arms around Jason’s neck. “Of course, you are. We wouldn’t love you like we do if you weren’t.”

Warm lips press against his, hot and hungry. Then, in the blink of an eye, the Cheshire Cat and the vorpal staff disappear.

Tim arches an eyebrow. “Something you want to tell me?”

Jason runs a hand through his hair, already feeling like more than a little bit of a tool for what he did with Tim-Cat, even if this is all simply an incredibly vivid and realistic dream. “Yeah, but after we wake up. How’s that supposed to work anyway?”

The lizard’s ruby eyes blaze in sudden fire. “All you have to do is want to. I will take care of the rest.”

After the last couple of days Jason has had, a telepathic lizard is the least of his concerns. He reaches for Tim’s hand and clasps it firmly. “Oh, I definitely believe it’s time for me to wake the fuck up. Do I need to click my heels three times? Say there’s no place like home?”

Tim shoves a bony elbow into his side. “Wrong story, Jay.”

“Do you have any idea how many genres I’ve been crossing since I woke up in here?”

“Tell me when we’re awake.”

Jason winks at him as darkness begins to fall around the edge of his vision. “As you wish.”

~*~*~

It doesn’t take long after Jason emerges from his slumber to wish he were unconscious again. “For the last fucking time, Dickie, I don’t want to talk about it. Don’t you have someone else to annoy?”

Dick heaves a massive sigh and glares. “If you don’t tell me, then Bruce will get all up in your face about what happened for his report. Do you really want that?”

Jason scowls because of course he doesn’t want that. At the same time, he doesn’t want to tell Dickface either, so he settles on the happy medium. “Some of the things that happened in there are a little too personal and I need some time to process before I even contemplate telling another person.”

The frustration on Dick’s face eases at the surprisingly honest answer. “You’re lucky Bruce went with J’onn to Gotham General.”

“Ain’t that the truth?” Jason sits up in the bed he and Tim share when they have to stay at the Manor for some reason or other. It’s rare they ever do together, but Alfred has put his foot down, so there’s no escaping tonight. Today. Whatever the hell the time is. His internal clock is all kinds of jacked up. “Look, there’s a lot of shit in my head that I try not to think about on the regular, but this dream hallucination brought most of it back to the surface. The last thing I need is Bruce breathing down my neck.”

Dick nods, rising from the chair he’d moved to the side of the bed upon entering the room earlier. “I can respect that. And I’ll make sure he does too. Just… try not to run away too soon? You scared the crap out of everyone, so at the very least, you can cut Alfred some slack and let him fuss over you.”

“I think I can deal with that for a day.” He’s already eaten a plateful of fresh cookies, his favorite ones too.

“Good. I’ll handle Bruce then. Get some rest, Little Wing. You haven’t been sleeping well.” Dick winks and escapes from the room before the pillow Jason throws at him manages to hit the back of his head.

“And people say I’m the asshole.” Jason sighs and wonders if he can convince Tim to pick up the pillow when he gets out of the shower. He’d do it, but he’s on strict orders from Alfred to stay on bedrest after he’d fallen down in the Cave when his legs gave out on him as he got up from the hospital gurney. Not exactly his best moment.

Even if it did earn him a sponge bath from Tim when they made it upstairs. He aches for a normal shower, but he’s still feeling shaky, so that’s not a good idea. Slipping on wet tile and cracking his skull is a rather ignominious ending. When he kicks the bucket a second time, he wants to go out in a roaring fury, staring death in the face while he does something awesome.

Like saving the world. That’s so much better than last time.

Although, he’ll also settle for simple falling asleep and never waking up again, preferably after having lived a long and full second life with Tim by his side.

Yeah, that sounds a lot better.

Jason dutifully sips at the hot tea the old butler left for him and settles back into the mountain of other pillows that adorn the bed. It’s easy to say Tim is the pillow monster, but really, it’s him.

“Did Dick leave on his own or did you throw him out?” Tim asks, stepping out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist and using another to dry his hair.

“I fed him a few lines and convinced him to exit stage left.” Jason takes another sip.

“Are you tired?” Tim opens a dresser drawer to remove a clean pair of boxers and some pajama pants. Both towels fall to the floor and Jason is momentarily distracted by all the bare skin before it gets hidden away again.

“Yes and no?” He knows better than to try and evade Tim. “Just have a lot to think about.”

“I’d say so.” Tim picks up the towels and disappears back into the bathroom to hang them up, then joins him in the large bed.

He either doesn’t see the pillow by the door or doesn’t care.

Once he settles in, Jason wraps an arm around him, breathing in the scent of Tim’s hair. It soothes raw nerves in ways that it has no right to, better than anything really, including the good drugs or the hard booze.

“Do you think it worked?” Tim asks, idly drawing circles on Jason’s bare chest with the tip of a finger. “Killing the Jokerwocky, I mean.”

Jason shrugs and doesn’t move. “Dunno. It sure as hell felt good. Still don’t think I’ll ever be okay around crowbars though.”

Tim shifts around in the bed, sitting up and gazing thoughtfully at him. “That’s what you dream about with the Joker, isn’t it? Him and the crowbar standing over you, wet with your own blood?”

He doesn’t want to face those knowing eyes. He’s already dealt with one traumatic event today, it’ll be awhile before he’s ready for another. “Yeah,” is all he offers in reply.

“Were we all in your dream?” Tim asks, taking another track, one that Jason is quietly grateful for. “I had no idea I could pull off the cat look so well.”

Jason laughs and tugs Tim down into the bed so they can better wrap around each other. “Everyone I care about was in there.” He tells him about Tweedle Dick and Damian, which has Tim in stitches in no time flat. About Cass the butterfly, Steph the White Rabbit, and Babs the White Queen. “Honestly though? I about lost my shit when I met Mad Hatter Brucie and Alfred the March Hare. If facing the Jabberwocky was about me and my worst nightmares, then seeing Alfred with bunny ears and a little cotton ball tail was enough to make me want to sign myself into Arkham and never come back out.”

Tim smacks him lightly. “Don’t even joke about that.”

“What? You didn’t see him!”

“Tell me more about the Cheshire Cat.” Tim rolls over and props himself up, chin resting on his hands. “You can’t tell me you didn’t find that version of me attractive.”

There’s a glint in his eye that tells Jason he knows more than he’s letting on. Shit. He’s in so much trouble. “Yeah, about that… Did you know that dream you really likes having his ears scratched?”

“Oh, so does that mean he discovered how much you enjoy having your belly rubbed?”

#chibinightowl writes #Jason Todd #Tim Drake #JayTim #Jason in Wonderland #The Jokerwocky

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