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soulmate-game · 4 years

Text

Well that happened.

B!dbwm 2020

Day 6: Meeting the Justice League

Marinette paced in her bedroom in Wayne Manor, running her hands through her hair as Damian laid on her bed and played animal crossing while completely ignoring her freakout.

“Dami, how did I get myself into this mess?!” she asked, frantically pulling at her pigtails. Her brother snorted, rolling his eyes unsympathetically.

“You never use your brain until after you’ve already made important decisions,” he responded ruthlessly. “All of your mental capacity goes towards planning out completely inane things like birthday parties and actually caring about what our even more idiotic class thinks about you, so when you actually need it you don’t have any intelligence left to spare.”

Marinette turned her eyes on him, the blue lightening to an icy color in her panicked annoyance as she glared at him. “Gee, thanks. I can always trust my darling brother to have my back,” she said sarcastically, to which Damian only smirked.

“When it matters? Of course. But in this case, watching the fallout will be entertaining and not at all dangerous to your physical safety.”

Damian and Marinette had been sent to live in Paris a few years back, about a year after Damian had come back to life. Marinette had been far too attached to the twin she had thought she had lost for good, and had nearly driven him crazy with how overprotective she had gotten. Right alongside that, Damian had started to become even more stifled by Bruce’s own protectiveness and distrust of him, so he quit being Robin and they were sent to PAris to try and “recover” from their “trauma” somewhere “safe and peaceful, under the jurisdiction of the JLE.”

Yeah, that was a great idea. Up until they found out the hard way that the JLE had up and abandoned the Paris headquarters and taken up unofficial residence in England somewhere. And then Hawkmoth showed up. And of course, of fucking course, an old chinese man from the pacifistic organization that acted as a direct foil to the League where they grew up somehow decided that they, out of everyone in Paris, were the best people he could find to wield the power of tiny gods to save the city.

Sure, he was right, but Damian chewed him a new asshole as soon they met for trusting complete unvetted strangers with the gods of creation and destruction.

And now Marinette had finally managed to leak to Tim, who then spread the calculated slip of information to Bruce, that Paris had had a supervillain for the past few years and the JLE had been neglecting their jobs. Which turned into Batman setting up a meeting with Ladybug and Chat Noir (Damian had tried to tell everyone his name was Chance Noir, Dark Luck, NOT ‘chat noir,’ since the last thing he needed was to be associated with Selina in any way. Nobody listened, and now he was stuck with being called Chat Noir). They had a lovely discussion about all the shit Hawkmoth did, their lack of resources, and the lack of assistance/straight up refusal to believe their word that came from the JLE.

Which led to Batman inviting Ladybug to meet the Justice League to debrief on the Paris situation. Damian had been invited as Chat Noir, but had taken the smart path and opted out. Now Marinette had to not only go to the Justice League as Ladybug, but also as Batman's daughter Hummingbird, who was being brought in for consultation along with Damian as Robin.

“I’m gonna die again,” Marinette continued her catastrophizing, Tikki and Plagg sharing a glance at once another from their spot on her writing desk. “I’m gonna die of total embarrassment. Don’t bother resurrecting me Dami, I’m just gonna die all over again once Dad finds out who we are and kills me.”

Damian snorted. “Hah. Father killing anything, good one,” he snarked back blandly. “You’ll be fine. Remember, you’re the planner and I’m the one with actual skill. You have the strangest ability when it comes to getting out of situations like these by the skin of your teeth,” Damian grinned at something on the screen of his Switch before continuing. “You’ll be fine. And if you sell me out, I’ll bury you myself.”

Marinette stuck her tongue out at him. Neither of them wanted their dad to find out that they were LAdybug and Chat noir, especially since they had already explained to him the basics of the source of their powers. They were both certain that Bruce would completely ignore how well they had been handling the situation on their own for almost five years and jump straight to the “my murderous children should not be left with the powers of destruction and creation at their fingertips,” line of thought. Bruce had never trusted them alone before, why now?

“At least help me, shaqiq?” Marinette asked, walking over and plopping onto the ground next to her bed, so she could look straight into her twin’s bright green eyes. At first, he refused to even look at her, completely unmoved. Marinette hummed mischievously, a habit that was the source of her Gotham codename. “If I go down, I’m taking you with me.”

Damian finally huffed, scowling. “Fine.”

He knew better than to doubt her. Marinette always got her way when she decided she was wronged and needed to even the score for something. Always.

—* — * — * — * — *

Hummingbird. The smallest Bat, by far, and the fastest when it came to natural speed. Hard to spot, with the sole giveaway that a short playful hum could be heard if she thought she had her prey cornered. She was hardly ever wrong.

She had also been temporarily retired as she and Robin moved to some undisclosed location to get away from the vigilante life for a while. Or so Batman said. And for the most part, aside from the occasional League gathering here or glimpse that they got of the two’s civilian personas if someone visited the manor while they were there, Robin and Hummingbird stayed retired. Heroes who knew them wondered if Robin had finally given up and settled down somehow, if he was even capable of it. And they all speculated that Hummingbird was so scarred from Robin’s death that she wouldn't ever be able to leave his side again, retired or not.

Seeing Hummingbird in her navy blue and black uniform, almost identical to her brother’s but for the thick navy blue scarf that covered her neck and lower face, everyone in the Justice League who knew her thought they were right. She stood there, older and only a little taller, never leaving Robin’s side as they traded secretive glances and hand signals only they understood. They didn’t make any attempt to stray from one another’s side.

But Jon Kent, superboy and Damian’s oldest friend, was of a different mind. He had been by Marinette’s side after Damian died, and by both of theirs when he was brought back. This was not the same terrified dependence he had seen back then. His eyes narrowed.

The twins were scheming, and nobody else would notice until it was too late.

Quicker than they could blink, he was by their side with his trademark smile. “Hey guys! Long time no see!”

They gave the half-kryptonian identical deadpan expressions, sighing in tandem. “You facetimed us last night. And you flew to Paris to visit us last week,” Damian pointed out with a raised eyebrow. “Despite us expressly telling you not to.”

Jon shrugged. “If I listened to everything you two said all the time, we’d never have any fun. So, excited to meet this Ladybug girl? Dad says that your dad won’t tell him anything about her until she shows up.”

Hummingbird and Robin traded looks before Marinette answered. “Not really. We see Ladybug in action in Paris all the time—”

“She even saved Marinette from an Akuma who was obsessed with wanting to date her,” Damian interrupted with an insufferable grin. Marinette elbowed him hard, making her brother wince before chuckling at her red face.

“I could have saved myself just fine! It’s not my fault we have to lay low, or we might get kicked out of Paris for being past vigilantes!” Marinette argued, voice high as she protested how helpless Damian had made her sound. She puffed her cheeks out in annoyance. Damian’s grin widened into a predatory smirk that showed off teeth.

“Oh? What about that one time that Tsurugi got akumatized, and Chat Noir had to save you because she wanted to duel you for the right to date me and you were cornered?”

Marinette growled, throwing up her hands in frustration before smacking Damian’s shoulder angrily. He only laughed at her. “I’m leaving! Come find me when Ladybug finishes explaining the things we already know!” with that, a fuming and embarrassed Hummingbird stormed out of the room.

“Huh,” Flash remarked, leaning against the wall. “She looks a lot better than the last time I saw her. And she actually left your immediate vicinity. Willingly,” he remarked to Robin, who glared at the speedster.

“It’s been almost six years. If you think my sister is weak enough to be that thoroughly encumbered by the past for so long, you are greatly underestimating her,” he looked around to see almost all of the gathered League members staring at him. He grit his teeth and looked over at his father. “When is this woman going to arrive, anyway? You’d think she would actually be on time.”

Just then, a portal opened in the middle of the room and Ladybug walked through. Quickly shedding the brown costume that allowed her to teleport in, she was left in just her black and red-spotted combat suit. Seeing as they finally found out how to alter the costumes the Kwami gave them, Ladybug’s hair now sat in a braided bun on the crown of her head and her costume was made to look more like Nightwing’s with the ladybug symbol on her upper chest and between her shoulder blades on her back, with black gloves that reached up to her elbows and black knee-high boots with red stripes up the sides.

The brightly colored heroine smiled, seeming to light up the room with cheer that nearly put Jon to shame (it took her awhile to perfect that particular smile. She actually based it off Jon himself, and Damian was impressed by how accurate she had been able to make it over time. Not that he would say as much out loud).

That was when Diana started choking on thin air, and Damian and Marinette both realized that they had overlooked something rather major.

Hippolyta had been a Ladybug. Diana had met Tikki. Diana knew how to see past Tikki’s glamour.

At first, Ladybug tried to play it off. Maybe Diana would catch on and help her out. So she walked over, holding her hand out for Wonderwoman to shake and putting on another wide smile for good measure.

“Oh my Kwamii! It is so good to finally meet you, Wonderwoman, Tikki told me so much about you and your mother! Would you like to talk later—”

“Marinette Wayne, how in Zeus’ name did you become the new Ladybug?” Wonderwoman instantly yelled, making Marinette wilt. Damian tried backing away slowly, only for Diana’s eyes to then shoot over to him and narrow dangerously. “And you! I knew I felt something weird, but now I can pinpoint it. You are wielding the Black Cat! One of you explain what is going on. Now.”

Ladybug and Robin instantly looked away, getting ready to make a quick escape right as their father walked up behind Robin, putting a firm hand on his shoulders. As always when Batman smiled, it sent a shiver down everyone’s spine. Marinette gulped a little.

“I agree. Marinette, I forgot to tell you that we changed the locations of the League security cameras last night,” shit they were so busted. Bruce must have suspected them of something from the very beginning, stupid world’s greatest detective instincts— “But now that we have confirmed that my suspicions were correct, we can save that discussion for later. First, let’s debrief on the Paris situation like we agreed. Then, you two will explain why you decided not to tell me while you help each other clean the entire Batcave tonight.”

Damian didn’t open his hand for the entire meeting. He and Marinette made eye contact as soon as everyone sat down for a suddenly very uneasy debrief, silently agreeing that they would not let their father take away their Miraculous. They finally had names and reputations of their own, away from the Batclan and their father’s influence. They had learned more about themselves and what they were capable of in those past years as Miraculous wielders than in all the years of the rest of their lives combined. They wouldn’t give it up, not even for Bruce’s approval.

But when they got back to the Manor and began cleaning up the batcave as they had been ordered, they were surprised when Bruce made no mention of taking their jewelry back at all. And he stayed up with them, silently reviewing things on the Batcomputer as they cleaned. It could almost be considered family bonding.

By the time the twins were done cleaning the sun was about to rise, and finally their father spoke up for the first time since they had begun their punishment chore.

“I watched days worth of your Paris battles before going out to meet Ladybug and Chat Noir in person,” he said without ever turning around from his spot at the computer. “I was impressed. I still am. The teamwork was flawless, and the Parisian heroes never used deadly force. They even did their best to provide emotional support to the victims who were akumatized. I thought for sure at least one of you two would have been victims yourself, with all that you’ve been through. Anything can be a trigger for you, anything can make you vulnerable to Hawkmoth,” Bruce paused to take a sip of coffee. He didn’t have to look at his children’s reflections in the face of the Batcomputer to know they were drinking in every word he said. He did anyway, allowing a small smile that they couldn’t see to form on his lips.

“I scoured through every akuma attack one by one, trying to find the one where one or both of you were the ones possessed. But I only found more reasons to be impressed by the heroes instead. By the time I was done looking through every scrap of video I could find, I had a feeling I knew who you were. Hearing your voices in person cemented it further, but I wanted video proof. So, knowing that Marinette would have forgotten about agreeing to accompany me to a JL meeting, I asked Ladybug to debrief us.”

“You had us from the start,” Marinette sighed, shoulders slumping. But Damian said nothing, eyes wide as he picked up on the nuances of what Bruce was saying that Marinette was too tired to catch on to.

“I’m proud of you two.”

Then, even Marinette froze. The twins had identical expressions of shock on their faces, and Bruce finally turned around to look at them properly. For a long while, the three of them only made silent eye contact as dozens of emotions flew through the air silently, but understood. Then Damian and Marinette straightened up just and silently. Damian nodded to his father, Marinette gave him a vulnerable little smile, and then they both backed out and went to head to sleep.

And once they were gone, Bruce sighed in content. Seems his meet-the-Justice-League plan worked out perfectly. He had finally managed to say something right to his two most troublesome children, for the first time. He leaned back in his chair, gazing up at the dark bat-infested cave ceiling as one more tiny grin played on his face, a little melancholy this time.

Guess they never needed him to help them find their inner hero, after all. They had become even better at the whole hero thing than he was, and all on their own. Bruce closed his eyes, not noticing when Alfred draped a blanket over his body and left the Cave with a soft chuckle.

--*--*--*--*--*

This sucked, but I wanted to give you guys something. So. here you go I guess?

#maribat #b!dbwm2020 #b!dbwm #bio!dad bruce wayne #Platonic daminette #sibling daminette #Damian as Chat Noir #mlb x dc #ml x dc #Miraculous ladybug X DC #idk what happened don't yell at me #another one-hour fic

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butwhyduh · 3 years

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Can I request sth more fluffy? Middle of the night cuddle with my boi Tim and fem!reader (*^*). You wrote some good spice now can I ask for some sugar?

Christmas party

Tim drake x reader

Christmas series 1

It was a cold still night in Gotham. One where the moon was visible and the air was crisp. You snuggled under your blankets on your with your heaters on high but you had a bone chill that wouldn’t disappear easily. You shivered and wished Tim was there.

He had patrol. The city never slept and this was a prime night for crime. It was a perfect night. Or a Gotham perfect night anyways. He had given you a quick kiss and literally jumped off your fire escape. Your scream was caught in your throat as you watched him rappel away. It never got easier to watch. It didn’t help you sleep either.

Your eyes finally started to get tired and your comfort watch-a-hundred-times Netflix show wasn’t holding your attention anymore and you fell asleep. The street below was surprisingly quiet even.

You woke to the sounds of something or someone outside your window. You couldn’t see out because of the closed curtains. You quickly looked at your clock. It was only 2 AM. He was usually out until 4. You reached for the bat you kept by the bed and quietly stood up as the window opened. Your heart beat quickly and you clenched the bat. Tim had been very certain that you should swing on sight of an intruder. Use the element of surprise.

Legs slid into your apartment and you swung. Hard. A soft “oof” sounded and they grabbed your bat.

“Sunshine, it’s me! It’s Tim,” he whispered loudly. You relaxed. “Good hit though.” Groan.

“Sorry Timmy! Are you okay?” You asked turning on a lamp. He stood in his suit, his cowl still on. He pulled it off.

“I’m fine. I’m just glad you protected yourself,” Tim said pulling off his suit. He put it in the hamper and came up to you. He gave you a little kiss. You moved to hold his hips and he hissed and pulled away. You pulled back.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I just kinda got shot today,” Tim answered lightly and you gasped. “It didn’t go through the suit though. I’m fine. Just a bruise. Not even a bone bruise. I swear.”

You looked at him in the lamp light and there was a blue bruise forming on his hip. “Timmy, what happened?”

“I didn’t duck,” he joked and you blanched. “Just some drug dealers. Red Hood was there and he took care of it. That’s why I’ve got the night off. Not the bruise. Sorta the bruise,” Tim grimaced as he climbed in bed.

“Red Hood then shot out their kneecaps and said that he’d shoot any criminals on sight if they were out tonight. Said it was ‘fucking Christmas so go the fuck home.’ So B thought it was best to have the night off of Red Robin,” Tim said laying flat. Your eyebrows rose at that one. He tried to hide a tiny groan as he adjusted to be more comfortable. You laid beside him careful not to touch him.

“Does this hurt,” you asked, gently leaning against his arm. You’d rather full on cuddle but you didn’t want to hurt him. Tim moved and pulled you close to him from the waist up.

“I’m okay. Don’t worry about me. It’s late. Let’s get some sleep,” he said rubbing his thumb on your back. You rested your head on his chest.

“Yeah, but I’m definitely worried about you because you got shot. Please, be careful,” you pleaded. He had a hard time looking you in the eyes. Guilt over making you worrying was a bitch.

“Of course, always. I’ll at least have patrol off for a few days. Give me a kiss,” Tim said hopefully. You leaned over and kissed him delicately like he was breakable. He was so strong but still only a human.

“If anything happens to you, I’ll beat Batman up myself.”

“That’s the nicest and most ridiculous thing you’ve ever said. We’ll hang out tomorrow, before the Christmas party, okay Sunshine?” Tim said with his eyes already closed. He was severely sleep deprived and wasn’t going to be up much longer.

“Sure, Tim,” you whispered as his breathing evened in sleep.

——————————————

All morning, you both laid in bed and watched tv. Tim tried to get a little handsy but his hip was in more pain than he had anticipated and one touch by your hand had him almost jumping out of the bed in pain. It really was black and blue. But this was a rare moment to just cuddle with him and you weren’t missing it for the world. Tim was on the phone most of the afternoon.

The weather had changed from nice to sleet but the time you were getting ready for the party. You had changed and were finishing your look. Tim was throwing on a sweater and watch you had gotten him for his birthday. He pushed his hair back before it flopped right back in place.

“You’re beautiful,” he said suddenly like he was finally watching you. He meant it as a compliment but it came out almost like ‘who knew?’ You gave him an eyebrow. “You know what I mean. You look great tonight,” Tim said with some pink around his cheeks.

“Thanks,” you said giving him a kiss on the cheek. He groaned and wiped the lipstick off his pale skin. You smirked. He walked over to the coat rake with just the slightest stiffness to his walk to show how bruises up he was.

“Are you ready? Don’t forget your coat. It’s nasty out there. I think we might have to stay over at the manor tonight,” Tim said grimacing. “It’s okay right now but if it gets worse..”

“You sure?” You asked. You didn’t want to miss it but if the weather was awful you didn’t want to chance an accident.

“Yeah we’ll be fine. I can drive through just about any weather,” Tim said with a wink. You grabbed your coat and left.

Nude hose was a bad idea. It was frigid outside. You should have worn the fleece lined thick tights you had considered as you were shivering in Tim nice red sport coupe.

Wayne manor couldn’t come in view fast enough and you happily ran up the stairs and in the house from the parking garage. Tim chuckled and then grimaced when he tried to catch up.

“Careful on your bruise,” you reminded him. He nodded. The house was much warmer than outside. Alfred warmly invited you into the study. Bruce, and Duke were already hanging out. They were talking about movies and Tim jumped in. He didn’t get much free time but when he did, he was a huge nerd.

Damian and his friend? Girlfriend? Walked in and started playing chess.

Dinner was served in the dinning room. Alfred always made amazing food. A traditional mushroom soup. Apparently Bruce’s mother had it as a Christmas tradition and, while the boys barely touched theirs, Bruce happily enjoyed it.

You saw Jason and his date before he cleared his throat from your seat at the table. Alfred was so happy and quickly ushered them to their seat at the table. Tim held your hand as often as he could as the meal continued. His long fingers stroked the inside of your palm in a soothing way. Whether it was for you or him, you couldn’t tell.

Down at the other end of the table, Dick said something loudly and it took you a second to realize what was going on. He was proposing. Tim had a little smile as Dick stuttered his way through his words. That was new.

She looked at the box in shock. She wasn’t going to say no was she?!? You couldn’t handle the stress and you gripped Tim’s hand tightly. Dick literally pleaded for an answer and that broke the spell she seemed to be under and she said yes.

Kisses. Applause. Champagne.

Tim lightly squeezed your hand that you had relaxed and he smiled at you. You both were young enough that a proposal wasn’t an awkward thing to watch. You were seen as just too young. Dick and his new fiancé retired for the night and the party was moved to the parlor.

You sat on a stool by the billiards table. Tim and Jason immediately began playing a game while you talked to his girlfriend and Cass.

“So if I win,” Jason said a full hour later. By this time, Damian’s girlfriend had fallen asleep on his shoulder and Bruce had announced the storm too bad to travel. “I get the penthouse.”

“Sure Jay. That’s Bruce’s. But I’m willing to gamble it,” Tim said throwing his hands up at the ridiculousness.

“I accept terms,” Bruce said. Both boys looked at him surprised. “Whoever wins gets the penthouse.”

Jason narrowed his eyes at Bruce and Tim gave you a wtf look but neither questioned the decision. Jason played seriously. He was a natural. His rough upbringing had him playing pool in many hazy bars as a kid as well as the occasional trip to a bar on the weekend he enjoyed regularly. Tim just didn’t have time to play games. Plus he had a nasty bruise on his hip. Jason won the game easily.

“So the penthouse is mine?” Jason asked. Bruce nodded and shrugged. Tim softly coughed in his hand.

“If you’ll live in it,” Bruce said. Damian was carefully carrying his girlfriend upstairs.

“Deal.”

“I guess, deal?” Tim said confused. “Though you should owe me. You’re the one that got me shot.”

“What?! You got him shot?” You asked loudly. Tim blanched.

“Not my fault,” Jason defended.

“Literally your fault,” Tim countered.

“What did you do?” Jason’s girlfriend asked looking at him suspiciously. He offered her a sheepish smile.

“I might have said ‘what are you gonna do, shoot us?’ I meant me. Not Tim! He also has a bulletproof suit,” Jason said.

“That’s not in the report,” Bruce said slowly and both boys flinched.

“Good night everybody. Merry Christmas,” Jason said pulling his date from the room.

“We’ll talk tomorrow,” Bruce called down the hall. Everyone else took it as a cue that the party was over.

You moved upstairs to Tim’s old bedroom. A My Chemical Romance poster and Dragon Ball Z poster hung on the back of his door as the only personal items. You smirked at him when you saw it.

“I forgot that was there,” Tim groaned reaching for it. His pale skin was flush with embarrassment. You grabbed his arm.

“Leave it. It’s cute. It’s got personality,” you said with a laugh. He rolled his eyes.

“Yeah. A complete nerd,” he said looking away.

“And you think you’ve changed since? You wear Spider-Man boxers under your suit sometimes,” you whispered in his ear.

“How do you know that?”

“When I pull them off of you..” you winked.

“Speaking of, having a hot girlfriend isn’t exactly nerdy,” Tim said getting a little handsy.

“Are you trying to get laid in your childhood bedroom?” You asked fake scandalized. He pulled you closer.

“Maybe.”

“Very nerdy to try and get in my pants right now with anime posters on the wall, Timbers,” you said pulling him towards the bed and into a kiss before he could protest.

#fns #dc #Tim drake #tim drake x reader #red robin x reader #Red Robin #yum #Tim drake fluff #timothy jackson drake #red hood

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ladyanput · 4 years

Text

Seeing Green Ch.12

The days leading up to the gala, Marinette shut herself up in her room, making the excuses of her wanting to put the finishing touches on her dress. But that was a lie, everyone could see it by the haunted look in her eyes, but what could they do? Every time they tried, she’d merely give them a bright smile and usher them away with reassuring words, and she’d shut the door right in their face.

But Damian wasn’t about to give up just yet. He opened the door and stepped into the room, holding a tray carrying a delicate tea set. He stared at Marinette, who had knelt beside a mannequin sporting a stunning pink gown, not turning towards the sound of the door opening or the footsteps approaching her.

“I thought you’d like to have a break and have some tea with me.” Damian smiled down at her, the girl who had stolen his heart, not that he’d tell her just yet. No, not after what she’s been through, she didn’t need another man declaring his love when she clearly wasn’t ready for it. But when he saw her smile, he felt his heart flutter and he found himself grinning back. “Your favourite too.”

“Thank you, Damian, I think I could use the tea.” Marinette beamed and got to her feet, the two of them heading to the small table by the large windows, both quick to settle in their chairs with a cup of steaming tea.

“You’ve really been shut in your room, Angel, for two days straight. That can’t be healthy.” He commented as he watched her add a fair bit of sugar to her tea before taking a long, greedy gulp. He smiled at the sight and let out a soft chuckle. “I can’t have you starving in there, afterall.”

“The Justice League was nice. I’m glad that they’re going to try and send people in to help us find Hawkmoth.” Marinette averted her gaze as she added even more sugar to her tea, her hands trembled ever so slightly as she did. “I mean, I’ve been after him for years, but I’m sure with experts on the case that we’ll find him in no time.”

“Angel-”

“I hope Lila won’t cause a scene tonight, it was really nice of your father to still let my class attend.”

“Angel, what-”

“Oh, have I shown you Evangeline’s dress? I kinda decided to add some features to make it more Red Hood inspired. It didn’t take long to do, since I had the dress done.”

“Marinette, please!”

At Damian’s shout, Marinette’s mouth snapped shut and she lowered her gaze. Damian winced, feeling like the biggest asshole on earth.

“Marinette, something is bothering you.” He reached out and took her free hand, giving it a tender squeeze. He set down his cup and knelt before her, taking her hand in both of hers. “Angel, you can tell me.”

“Damian, I’m a failure.” Marinette’s voice was soft, shaky. She bowed her head, her face quickly being hidden by her veil of pitch black hair and her shoulders shook. “I don’t deserve to be the Guardian, I’m failing the world, I’m failing the Kwami, I’m just a failure.”

“Wait, where did this come from?”

“I couldn’t save him! I let my partner down, I let him get corrupted, I let him become like that and I did nothing to stop it! No he’s in jail and his life is ruined and I did nothing to stop it!”

Damian watched as Marinette put her head in her hands and began to let out loud, heart wrenching sobs. She had just screwed up everything; the boy she had loved had become corrupt and she had failed to save him, she had lost many of her friends to a liar and it took many of them three years for them to see the truth. And she was supposed to be Ladybug, the savior of Paris, yet for three years and she was still no closer to defeating Hawkmoth, no, she had to go as far as to burden other heroes to help her. And now with Fu gone, she was the Guardian of the Miraculous, she had to take care of the Kwami, make sure they were safe, make sure that she gave the Miraculous out to the right people. But she had certainly failed at that, with Alya, with Nino, and with Chloé.

The stresses that had been piling on since she was fourteen finally felt as if they were crushing her and the dam broke. Damian held her close as she fell apart, soon being reduced to a whimpering, sobbing mess.

"Why couldn't I keep Alya with me? I couldn't protect Master Fu, I just kept screwing up and hurting my friends, I was such a stalker to Adrien, I just-" Whatever else she was going to say got lost in her sobs.

Damian wanted to say something. To go about assuring her and making sure she knew she was well loved, that she had done nothing wrong.

He let her cry, but kept silent. He wasn't the person to say those things to her; he had only known her for less than a week.

Yet less than a week goes by and he is already in love with her.

…

Damian came downstairs a few hours later, seeing his family and Marinette's teammates seated around the living room, looking rather grim.

"She's fine. She's resting now." Damian spoke up, drawing all attention to him. He had no doubt they had all been talking about Marinette just moments ago. "She… She had herself a good long cry."

“I’m not surprised, with what Dupain-Cheng has had to put up with since we were still in middle school.” Chloé muttered darkly, snuggled in between her girlfriend and boyfriend, the three of them firmly gripping hands. Their Kwami were seated on the table, talking amongst themselves as they had done since after the talk with the League. Chloé gave a look to Kagami, then booped her lightly on the nose. "I told you this was gonna happen sooner than later."

"But Marinette is so strong, she certainly wouldn't crumble so suddenly." Kagami frowned as Damian took a seat as well, holding her girlfriend closer now.

"Perhaps Chat Noir's betrayal was the straw that broke the camel's back." Luka suggested as he lazily ran his fingers through Kagami's short hair, making her smile, though it was a bit strained.

"Surely things weren't that bad. I mean, you guys had to deal with only one villain." Dick spoke up, and all the Parisian heroes stared at him.

Very poor choice of words, Dick.

"Excuse me, you've only known Marinette for what, five days or so? And miss 'I instantly got protective of Marinette as soon as I met her'" Chloé pointed toward Eva. "Has only known her for about six months, as creepy as that sounds. No offense."

"None taken." Eva held up a hand, her lips pressed into a thin line.

"But I've known her longer than anyone here. Before we were fourteen, she was a spineless little doormat. When we first met, she was this little goody two shoes who had a lot of friends. But once I started targeting her, because I was really jealous of her, I targeted her friends. Nino, Kim, all of her friends distanced themselves from her because they did not want to be bullied. So she was my personal punching bag until we got to middle school. She met Alya, she became Ladybug and she grew that much needed backbone. But she was still a doormat.

"She'd make cakes for everyone's birthday every year. She'd bring in treats just to be nice, she planned parties, she made decorations, she could make her friends dresses and other pieces of clothing for free. And Lila came and turned everyone against her again. Another bully and everyone's loyalty was as flimsy as tissue paper. She was a shiny new toy who promised tales of grand adventure and connections to powerful people. Surely you Waynes understand how a lot of people just want to be your friend just for your money and power."

The Waynes all exchanged glances. They certainly did know that feeling, and from what they saw of Miss Bustier's class, a lot of them seemed happy with the shiny, promising Lila until they suddenly learned the truth.

"Yeah, so Marinette stayed a doormat to everyone in the class. Even to this day, she organised this big, massive trip to Gotham for them and they haven't thanked her once, from what I can guess.

"When my Daddy was arrested last year and my Mother left us to get away from the scandal, Marinette didn't let the past stop her from helping me. She didn't hold a grudge. When I was kicked out of The Grand Paris, lost my money and my power, the class ganged up on me. Revenge for the years of hell I put them through, though I deserved every second of it…"

"No, you didn't. No one deserves to be doused in paint. No one deserves to have her entire wardrobe cut up, when she doesn't have money to buy any more." Luka cut in, hugging Chloé tight as he kissed her temple. Chloé wiped away a year and sniffled.

"A-anyway, Marinette and her family took me in. I hated her, I never stood up for her, I did nothing. I didn't care about her, I never did anything nice for her, yet here she was, offering me a place to stay when no one else would. I was a brat, but she and her family helped me to become better."

Chloé was quiet for a few minutes after her rant, wiping away more tears that came.

"What I'm trying to say is a lot of stuff has built up. A lot of responsibility on her shoulders. She was fourteen when she and Adrien became heroes. Still kids, we still are kids. She's not even twenty and she's the Guardian of the Miraculous." Chloé shook her head, meeting Dick's gaze. "So next time you decide to say shit like that, think twice."

"I'm sorry. I didn't know." Dick swallowed the lump in his throat and he looked down. "I shouldn't have said that."

"She needs a night of fun." Eva spoke up, drawing attention to herself, though she looked rather sullen. "She just needs a night where she can be the fairytale princess, alright? A lot of us have already let her down, myself included with that meltdown I had and my powers kinda going out of wack."

"Were you the reason people were reporting in a small area was being affected by Scarecrow's fear toxin?" Cass sat up sharply, eyes narrowed.

"Yeah, sorry. I've gotten myself under control now, I promise. Anyway, do you think we can give her the best night of her life at the gala?"

"I don't see a problem with that." Bruce spoke up, giving his own smile as he watched everyone. "I mean, after everything that’s happened, I think one drama free night could be good for everyone.”

“There’s still an issue. We need a new Black Cat.” Tikki spoke up, flying up from the table and giving everyone there a stern look. “The Ladybug is active, she needs the Black Cat to maintain the balance. If not, there could be dire consequences.”

“But who the heck could take the ring?” Luka sat up, frowning as he sat the Kwami on the table exchanging looks. “You’ve all said yourselves that it is a lot of power to handle. The power of destruction isn’t an easy one to control.”

“I want him to take it.” Plagg pointed, drawing all eyes to where he was pointing; Damian Wayne. “I can see your soul, kid, I see you have more destruction and death in your life than most. I see you love and care for Tikki’s chosen better than Adrien ever could, so I choose you to be my Chosen.”

“What? Wait, no, shouldn’t we wait for Marinette’s say on this?” Damian frowned and crossed his arms as he glared down at the small cat Kwami. “I mean, she is the Guardian, isn’t she? And the Black Cat is supposed to be her partner, so she should certainly get a say in this. We can’t just go making decisions behind her back.”

He didn’t miss the wide grin on Plagg’s face.

“You, kid, are definitely a good choice. I like you already. Now, do you guys have any carembert around here?”

…

Marinette bit her lower lip as Chloé pinned up her hair, leaving a few stray curls to frame her pretty face.

“Thank you for doing my hair, Chloé. I’d be lost without you.” Mari whispered softly, blushing brilliantly as she stared at herself in the mirror. She felt so… Pretty. Almost like a princess. Her dark hair was pinned back and up, showing off her delicate face and neck, which would complement the pale pink dress she had made herself for this gala. It was a lovely dress, a strapless evening gown that hugged her body until the hips, then flowed out with the beautiful fabric. It was her finest work yet. “I was afraid I’d burn my hair with a curling iron or something.”

“Oh puh-lease, I would kill you if you tried to use a curling iron again, especially with what happened last time.” Chloé snorted and turned Marinette around, beginning with her friend’s make-up. She carefully coloured the lips pink, and got to work with the rest of the make-up. “You should be grateful I decided to stay in Gotham after our talk with the League, I could be at home with Luka and Kagami watching our favourite movie.”

“So sorry to inconvenience you, your highness.” Marinette playfully mocked, before the two burst into soft fits of giggles. She turned and hugged Chloé tightly, the two staying like that for a few minutes. "I wish you were coming tonight, it would be nice to have friends there."

"Well, I don't really want to run into Bustier and the others." Chloé made a face as she pulled back, then gently shrugged as she smiled. "Besides, you have Miss Evangeline, though she'll probably be glued to her hunk all evening. Is there something about Gotham that lets you guys find love?"

"It's not love. Just a fun fling while we're in Gotham." Evangeline stepped into the room and Marinette hummed in appreciation at the sight of her.

The black halter style evening gown hugged the older woman's rather large curves, the keyhole on the neckline having been altered to be more bat shaped by a cheeky Marinette. And when the young designer included a short dark brown jacket and red pumps, Eva had looked ready to smack Marinette upside the head when she commented on how now Eva could go to the gala as a fancy Red Hood, since she was so smitten with him.

"My work at its finest." Marinette stood and made her way over to her own dress, Chloé quickly helping her put it on. She felt a bit nervous how she had made her own neckline a bit daring, but she had quickly convinced herself that she wasn't a little girl anymore. She was almost an adult, she had no time for pigtails and childish things.

Adrien's face flashed in her mind and it took everything in Marinette not to flinch. Instead she slid on her pale pink kitty heels and brushed her hands to smooth the slim skirt with an overlay of pale pink sheer fabric, decorated with dark pink flowers.

"Do you think Damian will like it?" Marinette gave a small twirl, instantly seeking to distract herself. "I mean, it's really… Pink."

"The guy is obviously smitten, he'd be an idiot to not have his jaw on the floor when he sees you." Chloé rolled her eyes once again, crossing her arms. "Or is yours just a fling too?"

"Oh, um…" Marinette felt herself blush as she grabbed her pale pink wrap shawl, toying with it gently. "Well, it's not a fling. It's not love, but I think it's going to be. I just don't want to rush into things again."

"You haven't. Don't worry, sugar cookie." Eva went and hugged Marinette tightly, holding her close. "But let's not worry about that. For now, let's worry about having a fun night tonight, rubbing elbows with the upper crust of Gotham."

With a smile, Chloé took them both by the arm and guided them downstairs to the main hall of the mansion, where their dates were waiting.

When Damian looked up and saw Marinette, he felt the breath leave his lungs. She was stunning, not surprising to him, but she seemed to glow, almost. She really was an angel…

"You certainly clean up good." Marinette smiled as she tucked her hand into his offered arm, then blushed when her mother began taking pictures. "Do you think I can do this? I don't want to embarrass anyone."

"You'll do just fine." Damian kissed her temple softly as he guided her out to the limo, his family and their dates following close behind.

"You look absolutely stunning tonight, Marinette. I am sure you will be the belle of the ball." Kor'i piped up happily once the limo got moving, snuggled into Dick's side.

"I think that honour might go to Selena." Marinette put in quickly, no sure if her face could get any redder from embarrassment. "I mean, you look gorgeous."

Selena let out a laugh and the women in the vehicle began to praise each other on their outfits, all the while Marinette stared out the window, feeling a sense of uneasiness in her stomach.

…

"Wow…" Marinette whispered in awe as soon as they stepped into the main ballroom. It was certainly a scene of splendor and high society, all obviously ignoring the day to day lives they live in Gotham. A place where you can forget the murderous villains looming outside your door.

"Mari, look at you! You look awesome!" Nino parted from the crowd, looking so odd in a trim dark suit, with no ball cap in sight. Marinette had to admit, he made quite the handsome looking gentleman. "Far out, dudette."

"You look rather handsome, Nino. You almost look like a man of high society. Your slang gives you away though.” Mari smiled, though it was a bit tight at the corners. She then blinked in surprise when Nino held out a hand.

“Can we dance?” Nino motioned his head over to the dance floor, where many couples already were. “I want to talk to you.”

“Of course, Nino..”

Marinette was guided to the dancefloor, not seeing the frowning faces of Eva and Damian. They could easily see the girl’s key trait in action; she forgave far too easily and quickly.

“What did you want to talk about?” Marinette gazed up at her friend as the two of them began to dance, though it was a bit more awkward than most due to their lack of experience.

“I know I apologized already for Alya and everything… But I don’t think I properly apologized for myself. I deserted you, Mari, a girl who’s like a sister to me. I left you hanging and I never once looked back and that was wrong of me.”

“Listen, Nino, it’s okay, I forgi-” Marinette began, but was quickly cut off by Nino giving a firm shake of his head.

“No, I don’t deserve that. I haven’t done anything to redeem myself yet. I’m not following the herd anymore. From now on I’m gonna stick by your side.” Nino grinned down at her, then gave her a playful wink. “Should be easier since I broke up with Alya.”

“I beg your pardon, you did what?!”

…

Lila scowled as she glanced around the ballroom, her grip tightening on her flute of champagne. None of the cute rich guys were even looking her way and she was dressed to the nines. The tight bronze dress she wore hugged her body tightly, the neckline plunging low, almost to her navel, leaving her non existent cleavage on full display. She even had her signature hairstyle in that perfectly framed her pretty face.

It was all Marinette’s fault, Lila knew that for a fact. If that stupid bitch had stayed at the hotel the first day, then Lila would have had all attention on her and would have won the heart of Damian Wayne as soon as he had seen her. Marinette and now that creep Eva always ruined everything for Lila, but it was easy to turn the class against them. Even Mis Bustier, who could see through Lila’s lies, scolded the two on causing conflict.

She should be out amongst the rich and fabulous, being basked in glory and praise, but from her vantage point, she could see Marinette enter the room on the youngest Wayne’s arm and all attention being drawn to the young Parisian girl. Lila wanted to go over there and rip the girl’s tacky dress to shreds, because now Lila was stuck just standing with her class, who had no idea how to behave at a formal event. Everyone avoided them like the plague, and Alya having her phone out and trying to get interviews certainly wasn’t helping matters!

“Alya, put that away! You’re only embarrassing yourself!” Lila snapped, taking a long drink of her champagne as Alya once again stepped up to a famous person and sought out an interview. “”Besides, no one here will give you an interview thanks to Marinette. I heard she made the Waynes tell everyone to keep away from you because you are a tabloid journalist or something.”

“She did what?!” Alya spun around sharply, her mouth agape. “How could she do that?! I mean, first she stole Damian from you, she got Adrien locked up, and now this?!”

“I know, isn’t she horrible?” Lila teared up and wiped away her tears, her entourage instantly rushing to her side to try and soothe her. The rest of the class simply rolled their eyes and continued to enjoy themselves. This was a fancy party, afterall, and Miss Bustier was off flirting with some rich guy to even keep an eye on them.

Lila watched from the corner of her eye as Evangeline danced with one of the Waynes, Jason if she remembered correctly. They seemed enraptured with each other, bodies pressed tightly together as they slow danced and whispered into the other’s ear. It made Lila want to vomit. But then she watched as Jason excused himself and left the room. Nino excused himself from Marinette and left as well, probably to head to the bathroom. But green eyes narrowed as she watched Eva leave through the same door a few minutes later, a slowly grin spreading across Lila’s face.

Perhaps this evening wouldn’t be such a waste afterall. Even since Alya’s pathetic show of being dumped, she was even more easy to manipulate. So when Lila showed Alya a picture of Eva and Nino talking in the dining hall, Lila having made sure the angle and posture looked intimate, and she had tearfully told Alya that Eva was probably the reason Nino had dumped her.

It was never hard to get Alya worked up.

Around a few minutes later, when Jason entered the room, disheveled, Eva close behind, Lila tapped Alya's shoulder and motioned over to Eva just as Nino exited the hallway after her.

"Look at her. Are those hickies on her neck?" Lila hissed in an infuriated tone, but smiled when she felt Alya's body tense under hers. "I mean, I know she's a creep, but to fuck him here of all places? She really does deserve to rot in a cell."

…

Marinette beamed as Damian dipped her backwards, feeling almost breathless from all of the dancing she had been doing with him. It was almost two hours into this thing and her feet were beginning to work.

"Can we get something to drink?" Marinette whispered into Damian's ear once he helped her straighten, then leaned into him as they made their way over to the refreshments table, where Eva and Jason were conversing with Selena and Bruce.

"You two kittens seem to be having fun." Selena smiled as she handed both of them a glass of champagne. "Marinette, everyone's been asking about your dress, they're trying to figure out who the designer is."

"It's an MDC original." Marinette smiled as she went to take a sip, but was stopped by Damian, who sent a glare to Selena.

"She's only eighteen, she can't drink alcohol. She's underaged." He said in such a stern tone, it took everything in Marinette not to snort. He sounded so adult for someone who was nineteen.

"Damian, how could you, seducing someone who's still a child, barely out of high school?" Selena gave a dramatic gasp as she pressed a hand to her chest, as if she were about to faint. "How could you? Why, I'm sure Satan himself would be ashamed."

"Enough out of you!" Damian felt his cheeks redden in embarrassment at Selena's theatrics. Though he did give Marinette a side glance as he watched her set down her flute of champagne and got herself one full of juice. Though she seemed unbothered by the whole conversation.

"Now, let's not get rowdy. Sugar cookie here has drunk alcohol before, the legal drinking age in France is eighteen afterall." Eva put in, wrapping a supportive arm around Marinette's shoulders. "As long as no one gets drunk and sloppy, we should be fine."

"Thank you, Eva, for helping Nino." Marinette murmured into the TA's ear, causing a look of surprise to cross the young woman's face. "Miss Bustier isn't the best person to go to for advice. She would have told him to try and fix things and stick with her."

"Where is that blundering idiot anyway?" Eva muttered as she saw the French class, but no Bustier in sight. She groaned and massaged her temples as she realized the idiot had left a group of rambunctious teenagers unsupervised. This would not go well.

"I might have to duck away for a bit. If those kids get drunk, this party might get rowdy." Eva patted Jason's arm gently, then broke away from the Waynes, beginning to head towards the class. But being splashed in the face with champagne stopped her in her tracks.

"Alya!" Marinette snapped as she instantly rushed to Eva's side, the entire room having gone silent. Eva stood there, dumbstruy, her make up running thanks to the champagne, while Alya sneered at the older woman.

"That's what ya get, you bitdch... Did you honestly fink you could get away wif it?" Alya's words were slurred, her cheeks rosy as she clumsily set her hands on her hips. "I have the proofs."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Eva hissed, her face flushed red from embarrassment as Marinette grabbed some napkins a waiter brought and began dabbing up the alcohol. Alya sneered and pointed a shaky finger at Eva, stumbling on her feet as she tried to take a threatening step forward.

"Lila shaw you two. Apparently you snuck.out the other day, to fuck. The day before Marinette trickeded Adrien, you were gone all afternoon." Alya slurred, then reached out, slapping the woman across the face before Marinette could stop her. "I know you were a fucking pedophile. Lila was right, you are a creep. Why else are you so close with Marinette? I bet you fuck her too."

Bruce motioned towards the nearby security guards, but Eva merely held up a hand, her purple eyes glaring deep into Alya's.

"I became her friend because I knew she needed one. Because I knew your loyalty was so fickle that you turned your back on her years ago. She barely knew me, but the first thing she did for me was make me a scarf with my favourite flowers on it because I was homesick. I was stuck with a class that took a liar's words at face value because she offered them pretty stories and fake opportunities. Marinette didn't make things easy for you, playing along with everything, so you decided to drop her. Yes, I'm her TA, but I am also her friend. A better friend than you, Ladybug certainly agrees."

"You shut your whore face, you don't even know Ladybug! Lila says she hated your guts!" Alya made another move for her, but Jason firmly gripped Alya's wrist, stopping the girl in her tracks. "Let me go, you creep! She's cheating on you with a high schooler!"

"Funny, the time you gave that scenario to her, Miss Rossi." Jason's hard eyes flickered to the girl in question, his look so deadly that it made her shiver. "Because it is impossible. You see, she was with me the entire time, tied to her hotel bed and calling me Daddy."

Marinette let out an embarrassment squeak while Eva turned crimson and softly cursed Jason's entire existence.

Lila scowled and strode right up to Jason, tears soon flooding her eyes as she began her theatrics.

"Did Marinette get to you too? Oh no, how many times has she spread her legs to ruin my life? First she steals Damian away from me, now she turns all of you into her personal attack dogs? And here I thought Eva was the whore!"

"Caline!" Eva turned and snapped at the woman across the room, who looked flabbergasted. "For gods' sake, get your class under control and stop humping Dick's leg. He's married, you twit!"

Caline went crimson and hurried over, setting a hand on Alya's and Lila's shoulders, trying to pull the girls away, but Alya shoved her teacher away and got right in Marinette's face.

"I've had enough of you! You ruin everything, Marinette! I tried, but you lost everything for a reason! You failed with Adrien because you are pathetic and spineless, so you decide to get him arrested. Lila was in a happy relationship with Damian, but you were jealous she won us this trip so you decided to steal him and take ownership of this entire thing! You're a pathetic leech, and an enabler. I bet you watched as your whore fucked Nino, I bet!"

"That's enough Alya!" Nino stormed forward, and more shouting began.

There was such chaos; angry words being thrown around, hands reaching out to scratch and claw, security rushing in to assist.

No one even noticed the little black butterfly that flew over their heads.

Marinette watched as security began to drag the drunken Alya away, while Miss Bustier tried to convince them to let her go, that it was all some misunderstanding. Lila began wailing, trying to put as much attention as she could on herself. Even Nino was shouting, but it was all lost in the noise. Marinette rushed to Damian's side and tightly gripped his band, until a shriek pierced the air.

"Jason!"

Everyone looked over, and every French person in the room let out a scream of terror.

For framing Jason's handsome face was the outline of a purple butterfly. Marinette instantly rushed over, kneeling next to Eva, who was screaming for Jason to fight it, to break whatever had been akumatized, anything!

And they both watched helplessly as Jason was engulfed in purple.

Taglist: @realrandomposts @interobanginyourmom @ladybug-182 @ladylb @zalladane @mochinek0 @persephonebutkore @urbanpineapplefarmer @vixen-uchiha @angelofmusickaterinapetrova @thewheezingbubbledragon @northernbluetongue @violatiger8 @thequestionablyhuman @ginamarie1512 @maude-zarella @2sunchild2 @saphiraazure2708 @ayuchan07 @virgil-is-a-cutie @thepeacetea @miraculous786 @enchanted-nerd @zebrabaker

#Seeing Green #maribat #alya salt #lila salt #daminette #dc x mlb #maridami

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queerbutstillhere-writes · 4 years

Text

Day 1 - Tim’s Birthday

“Tim, can you go grab me the bandages?”

“Yeah, sure B.”

Listen, Tim was glad that Damian was back safe. He was glad they had found the boy before he had gotten any worse injuries(though how he could be in worse shape then he’s in right now, Tim wasn’t sure). He may not get along with Damian the best, but he was still the kids brother, in their own fucked up way.

So he was trying to not feel too upset about it.

It’s not like his birthday was an important thing that he waited for every year. It’s fine.

Besides, birthdays hadn’t even been that big of a thing until he came to Bruce’s. Maybe he had cake or something on his birthday, or if his parents were home they might go out to dinner. But it’s not like he had huge birthday parties or anything. So why was this such a big deal? It was fine. It was more important that Damian was home safe. Right?

It’s not like this was his 17th birthday, and he had been hoping it would be a little more special. It wasn’t like this was his 17th birthday, and he had been planning to tell Bruce about his boyfriends.

He’d survive.

He helped Bruce rebandage Damian’s chest, the kid still mostly in a coma, he woke up occasionally, but was never fully lucid, just mumbled different things and was able to relay where he was in the most pain.

He didn’t know why he was hoping that Bruce would bring it up, but it became clear he had forgotten when after, he just thanked Tim, kissed him on the forehead and then sat down beside Damian with a laptop.

Tim sighed softly and called a soft goodnight, turning to walk back upstairs, ready to crash after a long night of patrols and a disappointing evening.

So that’s just what he did. He took a shower and then collapsed into bed in a t-shirt that was more than likely Kon’s. It still smelled like him too, so who was Tim to complain. He just curled sprawled out under the bright yellow poofy duvet Bart had dumped into his room one day and refused to take home, one of the only splashes of color in the fairly dull, impersonal room.

He tossed and turned for a while before fully passing out, letting himself slip into dark night terrors with no plot or escape.

Just another night sleeping for Tim Drake.

He was in for quite a surprise when he woke up.

Well, not quite as much of a surprise as the person he ended up flipping off the side of his bed, but honestly what did they expect from him? He was highly sensitive, even in his sleep.

The squeal and solid thump got him to wake the rest of the way up, and he sat up, looking down at the floor beside his bed to find a figure sprawled on the floor, looking up at the ceiling.

“Ow!” they complained.

“Bart?!”

The teen grinned at him, sitting up.

“Hi babe.”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!”

Bart just hopped up and immediately launched himself on top of Tim, knocking him back down to the bed with a grunt.

“What are you doing here?” Tim groaned as Bart shifted to get comfortable, lying on top of him.

“Well, we wanted to surprise you, but Kon had to stop and help some people along the way so I was supposed to come ahead and make sure you stayed in bed,” they responded, chin on Tim’s chest.

“Surprise me?”

Tim easily rolled Bart under him, ruining the other’s work to getting comfortable on top of him.

“Yeah!” Bart just grinned at him, reaching up to put their arms around Tim’s neck.

“Why?”

Another grin was his answer, as well as a soft kiss. Tim just rolled his eyes and accepted this, giving Bart a few soft kisses before falling sideways and reaching for his phone. Bart immediately cuddled up to his back, forehead against his spine. Tim didn’t fight it, just opened his phone and suddenly realized why Bart wanted to surprise him, when he found texts from some of his friends, wishing him a Happy Birthday. He smiled softly, quickly texting them back and setting his phone down, just as the window popped open on its own. Both sat up to look at it, and watched as one Superboy tumbled through the window, or well, former Superboy. He looked up and found them watching, and gave a sheepish grin, quickly latching the window behind him before kicking off his boots. Tim watched as he walked over, dumping off unnecessary parts of his uniform as he walked, then slipping into the bed next to them, hovering over Tim slightly.

“Happy Birthday, beautiful,” he murmured softly before kissing him.

Tim just relaxed into it, grinning slightly. Then he pushed Kon away, wrinkling his nose.

“You smell like soot.”

“Yeah, sorry. There was this really big fire and I stopped to help.”

“I told you,” Bart murmured sleepily.

They both chuckled at them, and then Kon looked back at Tim.

“Got any birthday wishes, birthday boy?”

Tim frowned, glancing away as the memory of what was happening with his family came back to the front of his mind.

“Eh, not really?”

“He’s lying,” Bart inputted, rolling so they were pushed up on one elbow, looking over at Tim with a raised eyebrow.

“Of course he’s lying, but if he really ain’t gonna tell us, we’ll just have to take matters into our own hands.”

Tim rolled his eyes at Kon, pushing at him.

“Get up, ya big oaf. I know it’s noon, but some of us have to eat breakfast yet.”

“Can we get second breakfast, then?”

Tim laughed, looking over at the speedster.

“Yes, you can get second breakfast.”

Bart cheered for joy, jumping up and zipping to Tim’s closet. They returned within seconds with a pair of black shorts and a short sleeve black striped button up.

“Come on, get dressed,” Bart urged, holding the clothes out. “Or I’ll do it for you. . . Actually maybe I should do it anyway, that’d be a lot faster-”

“Bart, calm down and come here,” Kon said with a laugh, grabbing Bart with his TTK and pulling them over to sit in his lap.

The two patiently waited - as patient as those two get, anyway - while Tim changed, a little stiff from sleep still. Once he was dressed and had fussed with his hair a bit to soothe down the tangles and cowlicks, he turned to them. Kon gave a little wolf whistle, grinning from where he had his chin on Bart’s shoulder.

“Hmm, handsome as ever.”

“Thanks. Now let’s go get food before Bart withers away and dies.”

Bart cheered and jumped up, scooping Tim up easily and rushing out his bedroom door. But instead of taking him to the kitchen like usual, he went straight to the dining room and plopped Tim down in his usual seat.

Except the dining room was completely black, only the slight spark shower lighting it up.

“Bart?” Tim asked, glancing behind him to where the speedster had already disappeared through the kitchen room. “You could’ve at least turned on the lights beforehand.”

Tim had no sooner started to stand then the door flew open and the lights flicked on. Tim flinched away from the brightness, then focused on the door, finding a couple people trailing through it in a procession, carrying trays and things. Bruce, Alfred, Dick, Bart and Kon, hell even Steph was there.

“Happy birthday, my dear boy,” Alfred announced, setting down a cup of coffee in front of Tim.

“Oh,” Tim said softly, glancing down at the cup then up at Alfred.

Trays of breakfast foods were set down on the table, each person coming by to wish Tim a happy birthday, ruffling his hair or hugging him or something. Bart and Kon sat on either side of him, Dick and Steph on the other side of the table, Bruce at the end, and Alfred right next to him.

Tim wasn’t tearing up. No. Not at all. It was fine. He was fine .

Kon leaned over, nudging him slightly.

“I may have lied about the fire,” Kon said with a small grin. “Well, no, there was a fire, it was just like, an hour previously, and I was just helping Alfred cook.”

“He actually got here before me,” Bart confirmed, tapping Tim’s leg with their foot.

“Guys,” he breathed out, reaching up and rubbing his eyes.

“Tim,” Bruce said softly, pulling his attention. “I’m sorry if we made you think we’d forgotten about your birthday.”

“Issokay,” Tim mumbled. “Dami was hurt.”

“It’s not okay, and I promise you we didn’t forget,” Bruce told him, offering a smile.

“Thanks, Bruce.”

They started eating together, and Tim allowed himself to smile freely as he listened to his boyfriends and family chatting together.

Oh yeah. Bruce didn’t know.

“Hey, Bruce?” Tim called slightly, feeling his heart leap into his throat the moment he had spoken.

“Yeah, Tim?”

“I- I have something I wanted to tell you.”

“Go ahead.”

“I’m . . . I’m dating Kon and Bart.”

Bruce glanced up from his pancakes, then looked between the three of them. He smiled.

“Congratulations.”

“I knew it!” Dick exclaimed from the other side of the table, looking absolutely joyful with this news.

Tim just groaned and realized his mistake of telling Bruce in front of everyone. Or well. . . just Dick. Steph already knew.

After their brunch - for that’s what it was - Tim found himself being dragged out of the house by his boyfriends.

“Guys, where are we going?”

“Birthday shopping! Come on!”

“Why do we need to go birthday shopping?”

“Because it’s your birthday and we want to spoil you!”

“Did you two forget that I’m the billionaire here, or?”

Kon just scoffed and shook his head. “I get money from Lex, and you know that.”

“Come on, Tim,” Bart said, with one of their powerful Puppy Dog Pouts. “Just let us take care of you today.”

Tim chuckled and shook his head and let them through the garage to his car.

“Fine, come on you dorks. But I’m driving.”

They both cheered and ran to the car.

After an afternoon of shopping and hanging out and eating sweets, and a nice dinner with the family again, Tim found himself at the front door, saying goodbye to his boyfriends before he had to go off to patrol.

“Thank you guys, so much, for coming,” Tim said with a smile, stepping forwards and kissing Kon, then Bart.

“Yeah! We just wanted to make your birthday just a lil bit better.”

Tim chuckled and shook his head, giving Bart another kiss.

“I love you, Bart Allen.”

“I love you too, Tim Drake-Wayne,” they responded happily, stealing one last kiss before stepping back and letting Tim turn to Kon.

“And I love you, Conner Kent.”

Conner just chuckled, pulling Tim in close, kissing him for a little longer then he had been allowed previously.

“I love you, Tim,” he practically whispered.

Then he stepped back, gave Tim a wink and started hovering.

“See ya around, birdie.” He saluted and shot off.

“Bye, Tim!” Bart called and also disappeared into the night.

Tim just smiled to himself and turned, walking inside again.

Yeah, that had been a good birthday.

@core-disaster-week-2020

#timkonbart week #core disaster week #timkonbart #core disaster #tim's birthday #tims birthday #tim drake #tim drake birthday #Bart Allen #conner kent #kon el kent #superboy #Robin #red robin #impulse #queerbutstillhere writes #queerbutstillhere

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miss-choco-chips · 4 years

Text

Soul Shards: what if...

...Tim gets a snarky sidekick who strong arms him into being a better person; it takes a little longer than if Damian did it, but Thea has her own way of doing things, and hers don’t involve trickery.

Or; The tale of soulless Tim and the little girl

(Alternative ending to the soul shards au, for those who don’t like the damitim... or the angst; that’s why Tim gets older here)

(Tim might be ooc, because he’s Soulless!Tim. Chaotic neutral at best. Be aware of that before reading)

Having no soul was great. Really, he should have gotten rid of that useless thing years ago. Why did it take him so long? The freedom, both to go wherever he wanted and to operate as he wished without those pesky morals weightening him down. It was like being a swimmer for years wearing a lead vest, and then getting rid of it. The speed? The newfound flexibility? The ability to swim just a little lower than he ever dared and explore new depths of himself, sure in the knowledge that nothing could drag him completely under water, even if the price was that he wouldn't be going back to shore ever again?

It was a cheap price, for such a wonderful treasure.

If only his body wasn’t so fucking annoying.

The little girl in front of him had been crying for like half an hour, no signs of stopping. And Fucking Batman had conditioned him to the point where he was physically unable to leave a distressed child behind.

-Please, sir, don’t leave me alone!

Fucking hell- The police will be here soon, they’ll take care of everything.

The crying intensified.

Damn.

-What if I walk you all the way to the station?

More crying.

-Your parents? You have those, right? I could take you home, just give me five minutes to figure out where do you live…

Shit, was that snot? His hand twitches and then thrusts forward, impulsively using the sleeve to clean her face. Disgusting.

-What do you want from me? -he ends up asking, close to feeling as distressed as she was out of sheer exasperation.

That seemed to put a halt to the water fest.

-I d-on’t have a family -her pouting mouth trembled, and instinct drove his arm around her shoulders, desperately trying to prevent her from crying again; he was aware his stupid, overly conditioned body wouldn't allow him to walk away from this child if she continued like this- Don’t want to go to orphanage or streets! -she wailed again at the end of the sentence, speech notably deteriorating in her anguish.

Was there a way to tell her ‘I don’t care’ without making her even sadder? Before someone came along and found him?

Tim could hear the police sirens coming closer, attracted to their location by the high wall of flames eating up at the warehouse. He had spent a good chunk of the night dismantling this human trafficking ring, deeply rooted in Greece but with smaller bases all over Europe, taking care to evac both the unconscious thugs and the victims before blowing it all to hell. It was hard as fuck, specially considering he couldn’t let anyone get a good look at his face, least they gave the authorities a good enough description of him to warrant the Bat’s attention.

This little girl was not only making him lose time, she was also threatening the secret of his existence both by keeping him on a spot where he could be easily seen, and by making him stay still long enough to see his face perfectly. Sure, such a small kid wouldn't be able to give a very good description, but any risk, small as it was, was more than he wanted to deal with.

Fuck it all to hell. He was tired. Figuring it all in the morning made perfect sense.

-If I take you with me, will you stop crying?

A hiccup and a nod was all he needed to take the girl in his arms and disappear into the night.

----.----

-What about a church? Children think churches are safe places, right? -he asks her over breakfast a few hours later. He was also sure there were thousands of those in Italy, which was his next destination, so he could very well drop her there.

The little girl looked up at him from under her lashes, light green eyes squinting in distaste and a little sadness she was forcing herself to hide- I don’t like churches. Mama… -she swallowed hard, which Tim feared would bring tears later on- mama used to say people trust churches too much, without… uhm, ‘reasons’, she said. And that I shouldn't trust anyone I haven’t met.

Grateful she was doing an effort not to cry, he didn’t push. The last thing he needed was the eight year old remembering her late mother and crying again.

Mathea, eight years old. Kidnapped from the city of Seres in Greece, where her mother had moved them both a month ago with hopes for a better life after leaving her abusive marriage behind. No other relatives, and he couldn't drop the child with a violent father. No doubt some internalized trauma after seeing her mother being murdered trying to keep her from being kidnapped, and the subsequently time in capture, waiting with other children at the warehouse for their fates to arrive. Except it had been derailed by Tim’s intervention.

He never regretted his body’s dependence on doing good like now. He couldn't leave the girl just anywhere unless she agreed, which didn’t seem to be an option right now.

-What I do is dangerous -he told her, one last attempt at scaring her- I hurt people that hurt others. I travel a lot. You’d be better off at an orphanage or something, living with other children and going to class.

She looked at him with far too intelligent eyes- You could teach me. ‘seem more smart than any teacher.

-Smarter -he corrected, hating that he was proving her point- I’m not a good teacher. I don’t have patience for it.

-I don’t think there’s a’ything you’re bad at. And we can learn together.

-I don’t have a soul -he finally threw, almost desperate to scare he away.

She just shrugged- The men who took me an’ hurt mama had one, and they were monsters. I don’t care bout it.

He sighs. His body isn’t rebelling at the idea, and she seems determined. Whatever. He doesn’t care enough to look for the best option for her. She wants to follow him, okay, let her. She’ll give up and ask to leave soon enough.

-.-.-.-.-.-.

-I want a computer -demands Mathea one morning, months into her forceful addition to Tim’s party of one. They are currently in Milan, where he’s taking care of a wayward assassin and she’s using the hotel’s amazing wifi to complete her online class- for my birthday. It’s next week, you know. I’m turning nine.

-I’ll make sure to send you a postal -he replies, hand thrown over his eyes in a futile attempt to sleep. Her nagging grows less adorable and more annoying the older she gets- I’m going to be in Moscu next week. Human experiments I need to stop.

Little less than a year ago, she would have gasped, maybe even cried at the idea. Nowadays, child trafficking seemed the only thing to faze her.

-I’m going to cry.

-It won’t be effective so far away.

She harrumphs. Like a mule, which is how stubborn she could be.

-Yeah, whatever. If you miss my birthday, I’ll be very sad, and make you feel guilty as hell.

-I don’t feel anything.

-Maybe you don’t, but your body will give you hell for me. How does an entire night holding my hand and spoiling me sounds, huh? Cause we both know that’s what is going to happen if you do it.

-Why didn’t I just leave you in the warehouse -he whines, tired. A few hours of sleep, that’s all he’s asking.

A few moments of silence follow his statement, which is suspicious enough for him to remove his arm and open his eyes. She’s never that quiet, unless she’s planning something or…

Yeah, those are tears in her eyes. Fuck.

-You… do you mean it?

A sigh.

-Come here, brat. Of course I didn’t. We both know I can’t do something like that.

She goes willingly, slipping into the mattress by his side and resting her head on his shoulder, cuddling closer like she does when nightmares hound her.

-It’s...it’s going to be my first birthday without mom. I just… don’t want to be alone.

He tries to keep his mouth closed, fighting against the impulse to soothe her. He loses miserably.

-You can come to Russia with me. We can go sightseeing after I’m done with my business and eat out somewhere, as a birthday treat.

Something lightens in her face.

-And my computer?

A sigh- I guess it’d be good to throw the one you have out. To avoid being tracked down, of course. Not because you’re a spoiled brat.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

When Thea arrived to the restaurant, her hair a golden mess and frazzled green eyes, Tim was instantly on high alert.

He had left her by the park with instructions on how to find him, as a lesson on both tracking and independence at navigating the streets. Now he wonders if leaving the ten year old alone in Buenos Aires had been a good idea.

-What happened?

She sat across from him, face instantly relaxing in the comfort and safety he always seemed to bring her.

-Nothing, just… a drunk idiot saying stuff. I lost him a couple streets ago, but…

His back tenses, and he has to consciously refrain from going out on a manhunt. Well, at least now he knows what is he gonna be doing that night when Thea sleeps.

-We are doubling your self defense lessons starting tomorrow.

He might not want her around most of the time, but she was, and that made her his responsibility.

She smiled, bright and relieved, and something twisted in his gut. He didn’t, couldn’t, love her. Not without a soul.

But if he did? Gods, it was already bad enough, how much he liked her, how desperate he was to keep her safe. If he added love to the equation, he would be a total mess.

Being soulless proved, once again, to be the best decision he ever made.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

-Tim. Tim. Tim. Tim. Tim.

-What. The fuck. Do you need. At three in the fucking morning?

-You have to go out and buy me something.

-What the… -a groan as the man sat on the bed, arms behind him holding his tired body- why is the bathroom light on?

Thea clutched the sheets of Tim’s bed tighter, the other hand still on his shoulder where she shook him into wakefulness, but didn’t sit by his side, which spoke for itself.

-Fuck. Don’t tell me…?

-Yeah. Apparently, my time has come. Can you…?

Another groan, this one whinier- I’m going, I’m going. Don’t sit anywhere, I do want my deposit back when we leave this hotel.

-Be fast, then.

Half an hour later, the un-masked vigilante returned, pharmacy bag in hand. Moodily throwing it in her general direction, he face planted his bed.

-There. Painkillers, pads, tampons and chocolate. I’m going back to sleep. And this time, don’t wake me up unless there’s a killer in the room.

-...you mean, besides Pru?

-Shh, you know you aren’t supposed to know about her shadowing us. It makes Ra’s ansty when he knows we know.

-...Aren’t you going to congratulate me or anything? I hear that’s what parents do to their twelve year olds when they go through this for the first time.

-First of all, I’m not your parent, and you are not my twelve year old. You are just a twelve year old that follows me around against my will. Second, I may be soulless, but not heartless enough to tell you to be happy about something that will bring you little else than pain every month for like fifty years. Periods sucks, and so do pregnancies. Why would I congratulate you? Put on a pad and go to bed now. We need to be out of town by eleven tomorrow.

-You are the human version of period cramps.

-Now you can knowledgeably use that phrase. Bet you’re delighted.

-Almost unbearably. Go back to sleep, idiot. I like you better when you’re unconscious.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

-Why can’t I go with you? -She asks, but it sounds more like a tantrum.

-Stop that, you are not nine anymore. And minors are not allowed in that bar.

-So I use my fake id, big deal.

-You are not going there. It’s illegal.

-Excuse me, is this coming from the man who I had to prevent from tattooing “fuck the law” on his right buttcheek that time he got wasted?

-You know damn well I might not follow certain laws, but others are fucking carved into me. Children drinking is one of those things my gut doesn’t want to take part on. You don’t like it, do as other teens and run away.

-Fuck you, you aren’t getting rid of me that easily.

-Then be a good little girl and wait for me at the hotel.

-I’m fifteen!

-You still get tired after two hours of training, and cry whenever you watch Lilo and Stitch.

-Because you are a slave driver! I’ve gotten less hurt in fights against people twice my size than training with you. And excuse me for having a soul, jackass.

-Apology accepted. Put on your pajamas again and go to bed. And by the time I’m back, I want that skirt reduced to ashes.

-What’s wrong with my skirt?

-When you learn how to fight in it without flashing everyone and their mother, or alternatively can fight with it without getting distracted by embarrassment, you can use whatever you want. Until then, there’s your onesie.

-It’s called a kigurumi.

-A grown up onesie, whatever.

-The jerk store called, they’re running out of you.

-I would love to insult you back, but I’m afraid I wouldn’t do as well as nature did.

-I hate you so much.

-Uh huh. Right back at you.

-Ugh. Bring me pizza when you’re done with that gang?

A small smile. A hand messing blond curls up.

-Only if you behave while I’m gone, brat.

-.-.-.-.-.-.

The base was big, and so luxurious. Everyone bowed to her or kept out of her way, which she liked even more. The food was amazing, the teachers provided to her the top of the top, and the library was to die for.

She wasn’t happy Tim was hurt again, but there was no denying the benefits it brought.

-Dude, you have the best sugar daddy ever.

Besides her, getting his own massage, he opened his eyes to glare.

-Ra’s is not my sugar anything. We are merely business partners; as in, I stay out of his business, he provides me with hearty income. You know this already.

Thea shook her head.

-Tim, there’s business deals, and there’s winning and dinning. This man wants a piece of you so badly it's not even funny. Sugar- Daddy.

-How do you even know that term, you’re like twelve.

-Excuse you, I’m fifteen.

-Maybe physically, but you aren’t ever going past the ‘damn brat’ stage until you can go back to sleep after a nightmare without sneaking into my bed.

-Shut up, no one asked. Hey, your sugar daddy offered me a class in stealing, can I take it? He says he has an expert around to give me lessons.

-Go for it, but if it ends up with you trying to touch my stuff, I’m leaving you here.

-.-.-.-.-.-

When Thea is sixteen, Tim turns twenty four, and she decides to give him the gift she has kept under lock and key ever since they met.

She knows about his past, because he never cared enough to hide it. She knows about his friends and family, because Conner keeps showing up, both to stalk Tim and to tell her the wildest stories of their youth. She knows about his soul, because that man, Damian, often takes it out when he visits them, face pained and desperate.

She feels guilty it took her this long. Because all this time, all this years, she had the key to bring their Tim back. She had the answers, the only one with a shot at it.

But she didn’t, because soulless Tim is the one she grew up with. The one who protected her, who carted to her needs and whims. The one who made her feel safe, even after all the cruelness she witnessed following him around.

She loves this Tim. Because this Tim, the one without a soul, loves her as well. It seems impossible, a paradox, but she knows it's true. Knows it with all her heart.

The love, the trust, the certainty of their bond, all are encompassed in the necklace she offers him on his twenty fourth birthday. The silver chain contrasting beautifully with the fluorite looking soul, shaped as a T. For Tim and Thea.

He looks at her, and there’s resignation in his eyes. Not the hate she was expecting.

-If I take this… I’ll feel. I’ll want my soul back. We’d need to go to Gotham for it; no more world trotting, no more ‘us against the world’. Are you sure this is what you want, Thea?

She swallows, hard. She doesn’t want it to end, but the idea of standing between him and his best self is unbearable.

-As long as you take me with you, I don’t care who you are or how do you act. But you can’t leave me behind. I won’t allow it.

He smiles, warm even without his soul, even without hers, and she fears she’s going to lose it the moment his fingers touch the necklace. But she has to do this. He has rescued her, time and time again, since they met so many years ago. He has helped her build herself from the ground, protecting and guiding, and the least she can do in return is help him get himself back.

Even saving him from a soulless existence doesn’t seem enough in comparison to all he’s done for her, reluctant or not, but that’s alright. She has the rest of her life to help her brother be happy.

But she needs to start now.

It must show in her eyes, because his smile becomes softer, an edge she hadn't noticed was there finally removed. The last line of defense gone down.

-You damn brat -he sighs, taking the necklace with shaking fingers, the emotions coursing through him instantly bringing tears to his eyes.

That’s alright too, she’s crying as well.

Because even before he touched the soul, even before he regained the ability to feel… the ‘Damn brat’ sounded heartbreakingly close to ‘I love you’.

There was an unbidden beauty, to being loved by someone without a soul.

-I love you, too. You jackass.

#Tim drake #Soul shards au #my writting #soul shards #red robin #Batfamily Fanfic #soulless tim #Thea Drake #Ra's Al Ghul is a sugar daddy #that's not a tag i ever expected to use #Ra's Al Ghul #putting broken pieces back togheter #Thea was a cute sweet little girl #then she grew up with the most bitter version of Tim #and look at her now #she's gonna kick ass in Gotham let me tell you

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behindtherobinsmask · 3 years

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tagged by @runnfromtheak

Rules: list the first lines of your last ten stories. See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. I write the most random things so if you can actually find a pattern then... let me know. Help a fool out.

P.S. - I know it says opening line and not paragraph but come on, that doesn’t do any story justice.

Gonna do my tags before because this turned out to be longer than expected - @elwon @stevieraebarnes @epistemologys

1. All The Times Damian Wayne Felt Loved

This was a birthday fic I wrote for a darling friend of mine. The whole time I was writing this my biggest fear was that the characters were going to... just not be right. Still have that fear.

“Gripping onto a pillow, Damian walked down the dark halls of his grandfather’s house, uncertainty clouding every step that he made. At this hour of the night, no one seemed to be around yet he could feel eyes watching his every move. The eyes of the stars in the sky, the moon and the many trained soldiers that had years of practice when it came to blending into the shadows. It was their presence that forced him to walk with his head held high, to bat away the tears in his eyes and pretend that everything was alright. Pretend that he wasn’t afraid.”

2. To all the stars that are listening

Another birthday fic (maybe that was the pattern all along jk). I actually really enjoyed writing this fic because I felt like I was back in my zone (my zone being angst). Can’t wait to get started on the second part.

“Dick’s life had been anything but ordinary since he was a child. As someone who grew up in the circus, his morning was spent studying with the other kids that travelled with his troupe while in the afternoon, he practiced with his heart and soul to fly as beautifully as his parents. In the nights, he’d stand on the sidelines and watch them perform, absolutely awed by the way their bodies moved, each twist, each turn so seamless, every difficult stunt seemed easy in their skin. Clinging onto the edge of the tent, he wished with all his heart that someday, he could be just like them. A bird freed. With every wish, his voice grew louder and louder until somewhere, up above, a star heard his cry. It heard his desire to be free. The chains that grounded him slowly slipped away and he flew with practiced grace. And just as Dick spread his wings, his parents fell. Birds flightless.

Freedom he had asked for and freedom he had received.”

3. Come here, won’t you hold my hand?

Listen, I spend hours of my life playing genshin impact. Did you really think I wouldn’t write a fic for it?

“After chasing the traveler away, Xiao sighed, wondering if now was the time to head back to Wangshu Inn. There he could stay away from the harbour and its people, away from the wishes made on stars that could never hear them, away from their fragile happiness that he could shatter with a single touch. Someone like Xiao, so burdened with sins, could never mingle among the mortals without bringing harm. Wherever he went, only misery ever followed. But even though he knew that it would be best for him to leave, a part of him, as silly as it was, worried that the journey back would make him miss out on the opportunity to see an old friend. While he never attended the Lantern Rite in Liyue, he always made sure to catch a glimpse of the Mingxiao lantern that always honored the adepti. It was only at that moment that he could lose himself to the past momentarily and remember a time when he wasn’t so alone, when his battle wasn’t only his to fight.”

4. Jon Kent Must Die

A jaydick flashfic challenge gave birth to this crack series and I will happily go down with this ship. I’ve written too many of these and maybe, in the future I’ll write more. Who will stop me? God? I don’t think so.

“Damian was sick and tired of his siblings.

Never had he met two people who were so dependent on their partners that they needed them around 24/7. It didn’t matter whether it was day or not, whether they were at the manor or in their respective homes, wherever his brothers went, their fool boyfriends seemed to follow. The obligatory family dinner had been turned into a circus with Todd’s usual clownery that had Damian rolling his eyes so hard that sometimes he was afraid they’d just pop out of his skull. Kent was no better. In fact, on more than one occasion, he had encouraged Todd’s rambling as though he was God’s chosen prophet, sharing his truth with the world. Damian really wished, just for a day, the two of them would simply go away. It wasn’t that he missed his siblings or anything. He just wished to have a conversation with Richard that didn’t end with him wanting to stab someone. Hopefully a 5’11 man with black hair with a streak of white and deep green eyes that could find a conspiracy in Titus’s preferred pose for napping.”

5. I wanna be in your arms by the sea (studying your freckles so curiously)

Yes. It’s another genshin impact fic. Sue me. (Please don’t I’m broke).

“Every night, Zhongli saw the same dream.

Caressed by the gentle winds of the Guili plains, he watched over his people, Guizhong’s people as they lived in prosperity, enjoying the calm and gentle wind that wrapped around them. Serenity was a blessing and they had an abundance of it. In the beginning, when Guizhong had described such a scene, something knit carefully in her imagination, he had not believed her. But now that he was seeing with his own two eyes, he was glad that he had agreed to her terms. Glad that he had formed a contract that had been beneficial for all.”

6. I stay up late and talk to the moon (And I can’t stop telling her all about you)

A christmas exchange fic that I loved writing because it really got me back into the writing for jaydick. It had been a while since I touched anything fandom related. Then this story happened.

“According to Jason, there weren’t many things that Bruce really got right. Not with his rules that could never be bent for anyone or his sickeningly righteous sense of justice. But if there was one thing Bruce excelled in, it was throwing the world’s most boring party ever. Every event that ever took place in the Wayne manor was the same. Classical music. Champagne flutes. Appetizers that could never replicate Alfred’s cooking and finally, the same old rich folks of Gotham who needed to be filled in on the latest gossip lest they melt into a puddle.”

7. Now I’m going down on you (proving what I want is true) Who told me I could write smut? Please take away my license. “Click. Click. Click. With a heavy sigh, Dick switched off the TV and tossed the remote aside after an hour of clicking through the channels, unable to find anything that would keep his mind occupied. Two weeks ago, during a drug bust with the rest of the bats, Dick had suffered an injury to his shoulder which he considered rather minor. But Alfred and Barbara said otherwise as he was benched until he healed, his own city taken over by other vigilantes while he was forced to sit at home and entertain himself with murder mysteries with plot twists he saw coming from a mile away. Unfortunately, even when he hit the gym to let go of some restless energy, he could only do the most basic of workouts, the kind that simply weren’t enough for someone who was so used to being active all day long.”

8. Wayne Boys Unsolved

Another crack fic that I really enjoyed writing. Poor Yvonne though. She was really suffering.

“Yvonne’s body was thrumming with excitement as she peeked out the window of her room, her eyes falling on the black car that just pulled up in front of her house. Four boys stepped out, ones that she was so very familiar with. After all, she had spent many nights watching every single video they uploaded on their blog. They were paranormal investigators of sorts, the kind that didn’t believe in the supernatural and lived to debunk the stories that revolved around each haunted location. Because people loved to watch them so, both alive and dead, the boys had become famous in every circle possible.”

9. You make me wanna die (I’m burning up in the light)

Another birthday fic and the first dark story I ever wrote. Writing this was fun but also nerve-wracking.

“I think we need a break.

Two years, three months, four days and seven hours. That was how long it had been since Jason had said those words to Dick, sitting in the middle of the bed they shared, silk sheets pooled around his scarred waist, the white of his hair sticking to his forehead with sweat, droplets of it swimming down his throat and across his bare chest that was bruised red with bite marks, across the autopsy scar that he had been reborn with. He looked like a picture, each feature painted so delicately with colours that pulled, that hypnotised and drowned. The fingers of his right hand flexed, parted and then brushed across the back of his neck, tracing the bond mark that tied him down to Dick, shuddering slightly under the imprint, his heady scent spreading across the room like a drug. Strong, so fucking strong that Dick could still taste it on his tongue. Looking like that, after everything they had done, when he opened his mouth, when he said the words that had been sitting on the tipping of his tongue, it was only to end everything that they were.”

10. Come fire up the night (make me feel alive)

Who told me I could write smut (2)

“Staring at the ceiling of his apartment, Dick lay in his bed, tired but unable to fall asleep, the ticking of the clock haunting him. Tick. He took in a deep breath. Tock. He closed his eyes. Tick. He tried to sleep. Tock. Every memory of Jason came rushing back to him. The dark hair with a streak of white that framed his chiselled face. The plump lower lip that he often dreamt about kissing, pulled between his teeth until Jason was groaning. The freckles that were scattered across his nose and cheeks. Those deep green orbs that gleamed with mischief, teasing and taunting, burning with unbridled fury, one look enough to make Dick’s knees tremble. And as goosebumps spread across his arms, he found himself waking up, lest he did something that he knew he would regret. Like calling up Jason and confessing feelings that were better left unspoken, buried in a special graveyard from which there would be no sudden resurrections.”

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itzagothamcitysiren · 4 years

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Pretty Please

I’m taking request now! I write oc’s so if you want to request something just shot me a ask or message! :) This one was requested by @comic-nerd-dc

Request: Will you do a damian (16+) with my name Sandy. Maybe like the dorky best friends to lovers trope I’d love to see damian get jealous over me and not understand what he was feeling and then like haveing a screaming match when he confesses his feelings

Part One

Damian Wayne had never gotten used to the big galas and parties his father threw. Even after living with his father for the last ten years and attending countless amounts of them, he still found himself uncomfortable as he was forced to put on a new face and pretend to be interested in anything and everything that people told him as he conversed; it was sickening.

Normally he’d be able to stomach it a little bit better but tonight was different. Tonight he could feel himself letting his face droop and show how truly uninterested he was in the conversation he was stuck having with one of his father’s business partners. He quickly caught himself though before the well-polished man before him noticed, straightening himself back up and plastering that fake look of attentiveness back on his face.

As the man went on about the coming merger between himself and Damian’s father, Damian let his thoughts trail off. He was one hundred percent not interested in a thing this man was saying if it wasn’t any clearer than it was before. He was more concerned about a different matter; a far more important one for that matter. It had been the whole reason why he was stuck here alone and finding everything unbearable.

He’d already gotten on warning look from his father already, as well as the famed family butler and to throw more salt into the wound even Grayson asked him what his deal had been. Tt, he thought to himself, remembering Dick’s concerned look. But as much as Damian hated admitting it, he was almost an open book to the man now and could never hide when something was bugging him.

Damian hadn’t noticed or heard the incoming of footsteps, well-trained or not, until a hand clasped against his shoulder. He jerked forward, face contorting into a scrunched rage for being snuck up on and startled. Between his thoughts, the man’s never ending story and the loud chatter and music throughout the room, Damian had been completely distracted.

“Hey,” Jason’s voice came to reach Damian’s ears, causing the boy to look up at him with a confused and annoyed face. “You wouldn’t mind if I burrowed my brother real quick would you? No? Thanks!” Jason continued, slightly with a teasing tone throughout.

He didn’t really wait for an answer, quickly turning Damian away from the conversation and towards the opposite side of the large ballroom. Damian quickly shrugged his hand off his shoulder, not as forcefully as he would’ve liked, knowing that his father would kill him if he made a scene. He still let Jason lead him away as he silently thanked him for getting him out of his previous predicament. He would never say so out loud, of course; this was Todd after all.

“What do you want, Todd?” Damian glared up at the older man, not having to look up as much as he used to, having hit a growth spurt over the last couple of years. He was practically Jason’s height now.

“Thanks for saving me, Jason; yeah no problem, Damian, you’re welcome.” Jason mimicked Damian’s voice in a fake conversation before taking a drink from the glass he held.

“Tt, you didn’t save me Todd.” Damian narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms against his chest.

“Okay fine then. Go back to that extremely interesting conversation.” Jason nodded back towards the man, who had locked a new victim into conversation. “By all means,”

Damian grunted but made no sign of moving. He prefer to not spend his already miserable night with Todd but even he had to admit that Todd was better than that. Why is father was willingly making himself a partner was unknown to him.

“Why are you here?” Damian questioned.

“Working a case, Tim was gonna decode something for me.” Jason started, taking another drink, leaving the glass now empty. “Dick found out and begged me to stay at the manor; I said no and he told Alfred, so now here I am.”

Damian nodded, understanding; you didn’t just say no to Alfred. The man was getting older, not being as active as he had been around the manor when Damian first arrived. Even he found himself caving more and more for the man, knowing that he’d regret it if he hadn’t.

“What crawled up your ass and laid an egg? You looked like you were two seconds away from murdering that guy.” Jason asked with a slight chuckled.

“You’re as ill-mannered as ever, Todd.” Damian rolled his eyes. “Nothing is wrong. You should know just as well as I that father’s parties aren’t the most pleasant.”

“This is true.” Jason nodded, “Though Dick said you’ve been pouting all week so,” Jason added with a shrug.

“Grayson’s delusional.” Damian spat, crossing his arms a little tighter, ignoring the feeling of chest constricting into itself.

“This is also true.” Jason laughed, “You’re also a liar. Does this have something to do about a specific lady friend? Which speaking of I haven’t seen her all night? Where is she?”

“On a date with her boyfriend.” Damian said grinding his teeth together.

“Blondie has a boyfriend now? Oh, I get it now.” Jason almost sang out. “You’re just jealous. Makes sense why you’re panties are in a twist.”

“Excuse me? We’re just friends, I have no reason to be jealous. Don’t be absurd, Todd.”

“Ha! Are you joking? You have the total hots for her. I may not be around much but even I can see it.”

“Grayson’s not the only delusional one in this family apparently.”

“Aw, you admit we’re family. But no seriously, it’s fine to be jealous. I mean it’s not, you shouldn’t have let it get to the point of being jealous and asked her out yourself-

“I am not jealous Todd. Sandra is completely capable of dating anyone in which she chooses. ”

“Okay Demon Spawn, you keep telling yourself that while I go get another drink.”

Damian huffed as he watched Todd walk off towards the bar. He was not jealous. He was Damian Wayne; he was Robin for crying out loud. He didn’t do jealously. There was no way in hell that he was jealous of whatever his name was again. He was so not jealous that he hadn’t even remembered the boy’s name, even with her talking about him nonstop in the last month of the two dating. Damian Wayne was one hundred percent not jealous.

Angry? Now that was a different story. Damian did do anger. He was angry about a lot of things actually. Was this one of those things? Possibly, but he knew that he couldn’t stay angry at Sandy for too long. They’d been friends for so long, meeting shortly after she had joined the Teen Titan’s a couple of years back. She was Black Cannery’s niece and thought it’d be best for her to work with kid’s her own age part time.

And at first Damian was Damian, acting closed off and untrusting, especially after the whole fiasco with Slade and Terra. He didn’t care if she could be vouched for by a hero as established as Cannery, he didn’t know her, so he didn’t trust her. But he soon got to know her.

Her bubbly and outgoing attitude was hard to avoid.

She had a voice to match too. Damian hated to admit but her powers and skill had been a great addition to the team. The pair built a great dynamic with each other unintentionally. They both were greatly skilled in hand to hand combat, offend sparring for hours and until they were both panting on the ground. She tested him; she pushed him to his limits.

It wasn’t just in training she did so either, as Damian noticed, she had a very big personality. She refused to let him skip out on team movie night and dinners. She always made sure he was included and participated. At first he found it unnerving, not understanding why she clung to him as much as she had. He didn’t know when it happened but eventually he began to find it endearing, and soon grew fond of the attention.

He wasn’t sure of the exact moment their friendship formed but it had. The former assassin knew it had something to do with her being the only one to actually remember his birthday. He had been thankful that she kept it to herself and not tell the rest of the team, knowing he wouldn’t want a big surprise party or anything like they’d end up wanting to throw.

Instead she kept it to herself and made a small party for themselves in her room. She’d made a giant blanket and pillow fort in her room, made a ton of his favorite foods and bought him new art supplies. His father and even Dick and Alfred had gotten him birthday presents in the past, along with trying to make a small celebration for the date but it hadn’t felt as genuine as this had.

So was he angry that she had ditched him tonight to spend time with her new boyfriend? Not necessarily. But was he happy about it? Absolutely not. Ever since they became close friends she went to every single gala with him knowing that it eased his anxieties about them and made them go by quicker. She could’ve gone out any other night for she knew that tonight was his night with her but she choice to instead go off and see some stupid movie and pay for overpriced snacks.

He found himself deep in though again, losing himself in another self-tirade. He watched the people move about the room, all laughing and appearing to have a good time, making a bitter scowl appear on his face. He hated how he was clearly the only one not having a good time. Normally he wouldn’t care but he felt like he had a terrible taste in his mouth and watching everyone else made it worse. His eyes traced the room again, scanning around as if it would change anything.

His eyes stopped on one particular head of hair. Blonde.

His feet were moving long before his mind was as he made his way across the marble floors. His target was right in front of him and he felt something snap in him before he could stop himself. When he stood right behind the person he had been glaring daggers at he reached out, gripping his fingers tightly around their wrist.

“What are you doing here, Lance?” Damian questioned, his voice thick as he jerked her around to look at him, cutting her off from her conversation she had been having with Dick and Tim.

Tim looked at the pair with a deadpanned look, nudging Dick, trying to signal the other man to leave the two alone but the birdbrain didn’t get the clue. Dick obviously opened his mouth, “I texted her where she was and asked her to come when she saw she was just at home.”

“What?” Damian jerked his head to look from Dick back to his friend. “Weren’t you on a date?”

“Erm, yes,” she said nervously, rubbing the back of her neck.

She brushed her hair over to her left shoulder, shifting in her heels. Damian knew she was hiding something, he could tell just from the sound of her voice let alone her stance. She also was wearing the same dress she wore to the last gala, something she would never normally do. It wasn’t that anyone would notice, the gala’s being so stretched out but she always fretted about being caught wearing the same dress twice and being embarrassed.

Cocking an eyebrow at the girl, Damian knew something was wrong when she averted her eyes away from him. He felt his sudden anger flare. They didn’t keep things from the other. Their whole friendship was based off of a certain level of trust and her just randomly showing up without his knowledge was something small, but something they just didn’t do.

Damian grabbed her wrist again, pulling her away from her brothers. He ignored her protests and question of what he was doing. He also ignored Dick’s voice.

“Where are you going?” Dick called out, only to be shushed by Tim.

Sandy shot them an apologetic look, before relenting and letting Damian drag her out of the ballroom. It wasn’t until they were halfway into the manor did she finally put her foot down, feeling her blue eyes growing sore from glaring at the back of the boy’s head.

“Damian if you don’t stop dragging me I’m going to scream.” She warned, giving her arm a good tug.

Damian scowled at her, releasing her from his hold but not without a little sass in his actions. He tutted, crossing his arms against his chest, looking at her straight in the eyes, being close in height.

“What’s your problem?” She questioned, mimicking his stance.

“You weren’t supposed to be here tonight.” He said not breaking his stern stair.

“Well,” she rolled her eyes, popping her hip out slightly. “I can leave if that’s what you want.”

“No,” He said a little too quickly, causing her to quirk an eyebrow. Coughing into a fist to clear his throat, he shook himself back into his strict demeanor he broke shortly. “I was just under the assumption you weren’t coming tonight. You said you had a date.”

“I did.” She said making an annoyed face. Damian made a face of his own, silently pushing her to explain further. She huffed, uncrossing her arms and placing one hand on her hip. The other ran through her soft curls as she furrowed her brow, “It ended early.”

“Why?”

“What’s with all the questions, Damian?” She slightly shook her head, feeling exhausted and about ready to crawl into herself.

“You’re clearing hiding something. I just-,”

“Just drop it Damian,” She signaled him to cease with a wave of her hand, crossing her arms against her chest once more. She turned her head away from him, looking back down the hall from which they came from. “We should head back downstairs before we upset your father and Alfred.”

“No, I want to know what happened.” He demanded, reaching out to grab her arm as she turned away from him. “Did he hurt you?”

“What?” She questioned, slight amusement cracking through. She shrugged her arm out of his grip, the lightness in her voice now gone. “Pfft, please. Like he could.” She rolled her eyes, “its fine. Please, let’s just go back downstairs, ya?”

Damian nodded reluctantly giving up. She looked about ready to scream and he was sure that his father wouldn’t appreciate the cry of a cannery ruining his party. He followed behind her as she now led him through the halls of the manor. His face still kept the same stern look, now noting how fake she looked as she pretended to be her regular self throughout the night. He wouldn’t call her out on it. He wouldn’t keep pressing that he knew she was hiding something from him. He’d give up.

For now.

#Damian Wayne #damian wayne fanfiction #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne x oc #orginal character #batman fanfiction #robin x oc #Jason Todd #dick grayson #Tim Drake #jason todd fanfiction #tim drake fanfic #dick grayson fanfic #request #dc comics fanfic

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nitholites · 4 years

Text

Marinette Stark Chapter 1

(Assuming Tim is end game. Ages are as follows:

Alfred: immortal

Bruce: 48

Tony: 38

Jagged Stone: 37

Penny: 36

Pepper: 36

Dick: 34

Jason: 25

Tim: 22

Marinette: 21 (14 in canon)

Harley: 18

Peter: 17 (turning 18)

Damian: 11

Morgan: 3)

Marinette sighed, crossing her arms for warmth as she glanced around the street, cursing her luck as she was only a block from her destination. It was a rainy day, chilly and damp, and she was completely unprepared for the sudden downpour.

She smiled, her mind going back to a day similar to now, yet a million years ago. Thoughts of the sunshine boy ran around her mind, trying to remind her why she fell in love so stupidly all that time ago. Thoughts about him soon turned to thoughts about her class, and with those came the pain and a certain lying Italian.

Lila Rossi. AKA, the bane of Marinette's existence.

Chloe left only a year after Lila got bad, the bullying getting far too much for the blond. She went with her mother, actually, their relationship becoming much healthier and stronger than ever before. And while Marinette insisted she didn't owe her anything, the blonde didn't listen, determined to repay the bi-racial girl.

Which is how Chloe found herself on the other end of the phone, two years after Hawkmoth started terrorizing Paris as Marinette bawled and let her emotions fly out of her mouth. Chloe has never felt such rage as that night, anger for the sweet angel of a girl bubbling to the forefront of her mind.

That night, she swore if Lila ever showed herself in front of the blonde again, she wouldn't hold back.

After that night, Chloe convinced her mother to rethink taking Marinette as a student, convincing her to give the sweet girl another chance.

This time, Marinette took it.

Her parents, having learned about the mistreatment of their daughter, agreed that it would be for the best. At least while their lawsuits went through. Penny helped bring light to the situation, having sent the family the contact information for her and Jagged's lawyers and swore she'd help them through the process.

Anything for their niece, and the godmother for their future children.

The only drawback in Marinette's mind was Ladybug. Alas, that was taken care of thanks to Ryuuko, Viperion, and Master Fu. The old man had lent her Kaalki so she could come back for Akuma, and she'd made the two heros full-time back when Chat Noir started getting worse.

Marinette didn't like thinking about her ex-partner at all. The selfish kitty didn't know what 'no' meant, harassing her as Ladybug to go out with him. Then, when she shut him down, he came and complained to Marinette, one time even breaking into her room when she denied him access.

He didn't remain Chat Noir for long after that, and she wasn't even surprised to find Adrien under the mask. No one else was as spineless as he was, after all. She was only dissappointed at his behavior.

The only relief she got was when the kwamis explained how he wasn't her true Black Cat. She had a pure Creation soul, while Adrien was simply the next best option.

As the next Guardian, Marinette was allowed the responsibility to find her true Black Cat, and to give him the Miraculous.

All this, and Hawkmoth wasn't exactly getting any closer to a jail cell. No one in the Miraculous team had any kind of detective abilities, so Marinette took it upon herself (after getting agreements from her team) to find someone who did. She originally wanted to convince Batman to her cause, but the Bourgeois wouldn't be going to Gotham for a few months, at least. So, she decided to wait and put it on the back-burner for the moment and to plan for when she found the bat.

As Chloe (who knew her identity) said: "You need some girl time and self-help time. The fact you haven't got any yet is ridiculous! Utterly ridiculous!"

So, for the past few months, Marinette worked up her brand and got help. Professional help, once she was in the States.

Which brought her to the present, under a bus awning as the rain poured around her. Tony Stark had commissioned her to make the outfits for himself, his wife, Pepper, their two adopted sons, Peter and Harley, and their daughter, Morgan. It was a birthday party for Peter, the middle child.

On her way to their first meeting in Stark Industries, Marinette was caught by the rain and forced to seek shelter under the awning, minimal water on her or her stuff, thankfully.

She brought with her a bag half the size of herself, rolling on the ground, filled with her journals, swaths of fabric, thread, pens, pencils, and a measuring tape. Everything she'd usually bring to a first meeting.

Her eyes glanced at the ally way opening to her right and behind her, her senses screaming danger. She focused on her hearing, frowning as she picked up an erratic heartbeat and scuffling she associated with a mugging.

She internally sighed, mourning her favorite soon-to-be drenched blouse and silently stepped towards the dark ally. Her heels didn't make a sound as she rounded the corner, internally groaning at the cliché scene in front of her. Shady, lanky dude trying to rob a decent-looking young man.

She silently crept behind the mugger, signalling for the young man to stay silent as she ended up right behind the mugger.

Without a peep, she leapt up, bringing her elbow down hard in the middle of his neck and knocking him unconscious. She silently landed, turning to the young man with a small smile. "Are you alright?"

Big, innocent, brown eyes looked up at her, relief and excitement shining in them as he nodded, brown curls bobbing with his head. "Yeah! Thank you, Miss. That was really cool!"

"It was nothing," she replied with a subtle French accent, turning back to the entrance of the ally as the man followed behind her. "Anyone would have done the same."

"That's not really true, Miss."

As they reached the awning once more, Marinette turned to him. "Enough of the 'Miss' business. My name is Marinette."

"I'm Peter. Parker, I mean."

As they made their way to SI, they talked, their conversation drowning out the sounds of rain around them. A few moments later, they walked into SI, a feminine voice making Marinette jump. "Welcome, Peter. Mr. Stark and Mr. Keener are waiting for you in the lab."

As Marinette composed herself, Peter replied, looking up with a smile. "Thanks, FRIDAY. Will you ask Mr. Stark if I can bring my new friend with me?"

"Of course."

Marinette looked at Peter, curiosity in her eyes. "Who's that?"

"That's FRIDAY, Mr. Stark's AI. She and Mrs. Potts are the only ones who can keep Mr. Stark semi-under control."

"Thank you, Peter. I will let Mrs. Stark know you think so highly of her." As Marinette giggled at FRIDAY's words, Peter blushed and hid his face in his hands. "Mr. Stark also said your guest may come up."

Within a moment, the two teens stood in the doorway of the lab, two other figures already in the high-tech room. The two men in the lab turned towards the elevator, grins on their faces, as Peter and Marinette stepped into the room- Peter with much more confidence and familiarity than Marinette. "Pete, thank God you're here. Will you please tell this inexperienced, back-water country boy that-"

Marinette zoned out, taking this chance to look around the lab. Half-finished projects littered the various desks, Iron Man parts were strewn about almost halfhazirdly, tools and stains and singe marks on a few walls and sections of the ceiling, plus a few dents on said walls, ceiling, and desks, showed this lab was lived in, not just for show. The empty soda bottles, ramen packets, and plates on a very specific desk in the center of the lab said so, too.

"-and I'm gonna shut up now."

Marinette blinked, realizing Peter had talked through all of her observations for the past 10 minutes. She brought a hand to her face, covering the light laughter coming from her chest. That caused three sets of eyes to turn towards her, one in laughter as well and two in... Well, Marinette wanted to call it confusion, but there was something more. Analysis?

"Who's the chick?"

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I'm here for Mr. Stark's commission, but got held up by the rain."

Eyebrows rose, but Tony's the one with the smile, walking towards the group with a hand out. "So you're MDC. Can't say I was expecting this. How old are you, Tinker Bell?"

"I know I don't look it, but I'm 21."

Eyes widened, jaws dropped, and the men froze. "What."

She nodded, keeping from crossing her arms. "Yeah. I can legally drink."

Tony snorted, straightening up. "I'm guessing you'd still rather not. You don't seem like the type to get black-out drunk regularly."

She shrugged, a small smile on her face. "I haven't had time, for one. And it's hard to design when drunk or hungover. Plus, I'm pretty sure that if I tried Uncle Jagged would try and join in." She could hear his voice now... "Mari, my favorite niece! Stop growin' up. Where's the time gone? So not rock n' roll of it. Next time invite me, yeah?"

She shook her head, returning to the present. "Anyway, about that commission..."

They had a very productive session- at least on Marinette's end. She got their measurements, and the lab offered nearly limitless inspiration while giving her insight to the three science nerds, giving her a taste of their likes and passions. Following sessions had her meeting most of the Avengers and growing closer to everyone in the tower, especially after she brought a few baked goodies from her apartment.

("Kid, you have a talent. Become my baker and I'll pay you half of whatever SI makes in a year." "Tony, you can't do that. I'm the CEO." "And I like designing, Mister Stark. Baking is a hobby now." Tony pouted for a month after that, the pout lessening for every treat Marinette brought. Morgan didn't take long to adopt 'Auntie Mari' into the family.)

Soon, the designs were complete and the Gala was only a day away.

Welcome to the first chapter of my fic, based on my HCs posted on this blog. This is the first chapter of (hopefully) many more, and the first multi-chapter fic I'm posting on here! Hopefully not the last, but we'll see. There's no BatFam stuff yet, but there should be an introduction next chapter! From there, I'm not sure where it'll lead, and I hope you help educate me when I make mistakes about someone's character or backstory- I'm not as knowledgeable about the DC universe as the Marvel or MLB universe, so I'd appreciate the help!

#MLB #mlb marinette #lila salt #Marinette #marinette dupen chang #tony stark #harley keener #peter parker #morgan stark #pepper stark #mlb fanfic #adrien agreste #lila rossie #alya salt #class salt #chloe bourgeois #audrey bourgeois

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skeletonwoman · 4 years

Text

Jay is for Jacket

Hi!

So i recnelty posted J is for Jacket, and i really liked it but i felt that a lot of the nuance i was seeing as i was writing wasn’t being included. And i know it can be cheap to write the same story from two different perspectives but i just couldn’t not include the thought here, it was wriggling in my brain. so this might be a mini series and if it requires more Jason POV’s they’ll pair up in title like this

It’s him, Barbara, Cass and Steph. Not his usual group but sometimes a guy just needs some time with the girls.

Or that’s what he’ll tell Tim when he starts in on him about it. More than that, the girls are savages that definitely think exactly what he’s thinking.

They’ve all seen the texts, seen the smiles, seen the change. Dick had come right out and told them, he’s met a girl and shes his soulmate. It was a small kick in the chest for everyone, for different reasons, but none of them could deny the new wind of joy at the manor. Everyone was smiling more just Dicks radiant happiness.

He’d actually taken to avoiding the place.

And tonight, since it’s just him and the girls, they give in to the curiosity and take a wander over to her building. Light stalking aside, everyone is surprised when they see her just sitting there on the ledge.

He doesn’t think she’s there to hurt herself but Babs does, for a split second. He reads it in her stutter step.

Only one thing for it, he thinks. Just to reassure Babs, he promises. Just to see if they can see what Dick sees, he wishes.

It’s a few days and he’s back.

He doesn’t have a clue why, he’s not in love with a strange girl who sits beside four idiots and somehow emits such a calming influence that the four of them are nearly drunk by the time they leave.

Barbara promised to look into that and her, without telling Tim, but he can’t wait.

So after blowing up some idiots, Jason lets Dick go when he says that she told him to tell Jason its bed time, and when it actually works, when Dick realizes they’re done for the night and he can go to class tomorrow, he grabs his face and kisses him.

Idiot.

She’s a terrible influence on him.

And there she’s sitting, staring into the bright lights and the bright night and she doesn’t react when he sits down and the wind picks up but he senses her calm at his presence. Maybe she likes him too.

The thought makes his mind whirl, both with embarrassment that he wants to steal Dicks girl and the desperate hope that she might like him too.

She shivers.

His jacket is halfway off before he’s realized he’s moved and then suddenly its draped over her shoulders.

“Thank you,” slides through the air to brush his ears and he smiles behind the mask.

“You’re welcome.” He’s unsure why she thanked him, he probably should wash the jacket.

She’s wearing his jacket.

Shit, Dicks girlfriend is wearing his jacket.

But he can’t just snatch it off her now, her arms are in it and she’s so close to the edge.

Leaping to his feet, he races off into the night. What is he going to do? He just left Dick and immediately went to flirt with his brothers girlfriend!

That wasn’t his intention, though, obviously, he just wanted to see her. Calm down.

He’s got class with her tomorrow, he never shuts up about how he can’t wait for Tuesday and Wednesday to hang out with her.

He gets it now.

No! Not the point.

He’s back at the manor before he knows it, mask off and hanging from his fingertips, knowing there’s no way he can patrol tonight and knowing he can’t go home to his dark, cold apartment. The manor always has room, and the lights are always lit and its always warm.

Hurriedly, he steps into the warmth of the foyer and exhales a long breath.

No place feels quite as much like home.

He didn’t spend much time here, in the before, but it probably has less to do with being familiar with the place and more to do with the memories of his brothers hidden in the spaces.

Damian creeps through a door and stares at him as he stands in the middle of the room like a weirdo.

“Evil Spawn,” he offers as a greeting and the kid scowls. “What’re you doing awake? What time is it?”

“Midnight,” he says with that eerie knowing voice. He shouldn’t be so young and have that voice. “You’re here very early.”

“Yeah, it really is early.” His eyes drop to his feet, still parked in the middle of the room.

“Where’s your jacket?”

He scowls at his feet before wiping the expression away and replacing it with a more defined scowl. “I fucking lost it.”

Damian scowls back at him. “What’re you going to do then? Where’d you lose it? How’d it even come off?”

“I don’t know! I think I fell off a roof, a low one obviously, and I guess it got stolen? I don’t know.” He moves toward the doorway Damian’s standing in, knowing what comes next.

“Kneel down here,” Damian gestures to the floor in front of him and pulls a torch from his back pocket. One small hand captures his cheek while the other points to the roof and moves left to right. Then comes the torch. It’s all so well-choreographed now, allowing an eleven year old to check him for a concussion. “You’re good.”

He grins up at his tiniest brother, who scowls and rolls his eyes.

Without warning him, he rises and ruffles his hand through Damians hair, drawing a vicious curse from the childs lips. “You gonna make me something to eat, favourite sibling?”

“No.” Damian immediately counters sullenly, but he heads toward the kitchen all the same. “I’m throwing the dog a birthday party, by the way. Gifts are expected.”

This is why the manor is home, this is what makes it warm and bright.

He doesn’t get the text till late. 2pm late.

Dickson Grayne: Yo is your jacket missing I think ik where it is

Dickson Grayne: if urs is missing

He scowls at the phone, deciding not to respond. He doesn’t want to lie but she clearly wore the jacket in front of Dick without realizing they were connected. He’s gotta get it back, she can’t keep it, clearly.

He stares at the clock on his phone before he tosses it under his pillow and climbs into bed.

“Can I have it back?” He blurts before he can think and she wrinkles her nose at him, clearly annoyed, though he catches her smile as she turns to collect it from across the room. She hugs it when she picks it up.

Honestly, it looks like she sniffs it.

Maybe she has no sense of smell because he suddenly really feels the need to wash it before he gives it back.

No! No giving it back. Damn.

“Here,” she says, holding it out with a sad face. “I’m sad to see it go, it’s amazing and I’m jealous you own it. Where’d you get it?”

Before he can control himself, a harsh no escapes his masked lips and she flashes a scowl at him before masking her expression.

“Thank you for lending it to me, I really appreciated it, and have a wonderful night, Red.” The words hit his back and he stops for half a second to absorb them before taking off. He can’t think of her or the nickname right now.

Despite this, he thinks about her all night and when four am rolls around, he finds himself dropping his jacket onto her doorstep and taking off.

The first pet shop he finds will be fine. He’d have gone to a supermarket but he knew the evil spawn would know and be able to tell the difference.

It’s Titus’s birthday, and Damian is demanding everyone be present with presents for the dog.

No one celebrated his birthday last year but the dog gets a full party? Sure.

The bell rings as he walks in, already heading where he can see the collars and leads. Is that what the dog needs? New leash?

The moment he thinks it a rejection follows. Ace, letting someone leash him? As if.

All the same, he takes his time looking over the options and colours. He has no idea what he’s looking for at the this point, as he moves to the dog toys. It’s a great dane? Do they need special toys? Does Titus need special toys cause he’s a “special” dog? Should he be getting him a bat shaped toy?

He moves to the cat toys. More likely to find something bat shaped there.

A tickle runs over the back of his neck and his eyes follow the feeling to see- her.

She’s here. Staring at him. Does she- know?

He never asked what Dick had told her, what she knows. Does she even know who he is? Has Dick ever even mentioned his zombie brother?

She starts toward him and his eyes flicker over her features- she doesn’t recognise him. She has no idea who he is.

A flush of pleasure fills his body as he notices her check him out.

Good.

No! Bad!

She stops next to him as he forces his eyes to the toys before him.

“Anything I can help you find today?”

She sounds so different. His jaw tightens slightly, irrationally, and he inhales an unsteady breath at the distance she places between them.

Christ, he sounds like such a stalker.

Lowering his voice to how he imitates batman, he says “dog toy.” Hesitates. “Great Dane.”

She beams at him, still distant, and gestures to a pink elephant. Her voice is pretty darn sweet when she explains. “Some customers have issues with the colour but this guy is really the best on the market right now for dogs like great danes. Its tough, light weight, machine washable and there’s a squeaker inside.”

He grabs it before she finishes speaking, absorbing every word she offers him.

Disgusting.

He can’t help himself from offering a thank you, despite the seething and roiling mass of self-loathing in his gut. No one deserves love as much as Grayson, no one.

His gaze trips down to the elephant in his hands and he smiles. Damian is going to hate this, and Titus is going to love it. By the time he looks back up, you’ve taken off and he’s following your beckoning wave just like the stupid dog he’s gotten the gift for.

A flurry of short actions finishes off the transaction and Jason clutches the bag handles in his fist.

“Thank you,” he says, keeping his voice as Batman as he can.

He turns in a rush, storming two steps toward the doorway before he feels his gut tug him hard, and spin him back around.

Without thinking about consequences, Dick, Barbara or the Red Hood, Jason nabs a pen and her wrist, scribbling down his mobile number and asking her to text him.

It’s only out on the street when the doubts and worries crash back in does he realize that he forgot to disguise his voice.

“F*ck.”

Babby: Heads up, you know who is coming tonight

Jason stares at the text, his good mood melting away. Tonight was supposed to be his brothers, his siters, Alfred, the dog and Bruce. He was going to watch his brothers be happy, ignore Bruce and give Alfred a smile. Hell, he might have even let Dick hug him and rustled the Kids hair.

Now?

Ah, hell.

yea!!

Part two? yEAH!

#jason todd fic #jason todd imagine #jason todd #batbrothers fic #batbrothers imagine #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanficition #jason todd imagines

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geekthefreakout · 4 years

Text

Concept: Earth-74 Coldwave Babysitting

When all the dust settles, Mick has been watching over baby Jon for some time now. Lois and Clark are charmed. Next time there is some crime to fight that requires both of them as well as Kara to be in action, they don't bother Ma and Pa Kent with watching the baby. They pop over to Earth-74, where Mick and AI-Len still live quietly. Mick takes baby Jon in his arms with little fanfare. Len snarks about how soft they've become, and Mick better make sure the kid doesn't spew bodily fluids all over the place because Len's systems are sure as hell not gonna clean up after him. Even so when Mick turns into his room, he finds a bassinet suddenly emerged from the floor, and knows his husband thinks the kid is cute too.

Mick is understandably startled when, as Jon is approaching his first birthday, the kid escapes from his crib by pulling it apart. Len's chuckles echo throughout the Waverider as Mick chases down the little bastard before Jon can get into his booze. The next crib is made from reinforced steel. Mick is not as surprised as he thought he'd be when he starts getting invited to the kid's birthday parties and to holidays. He goes alone to the first one, but comes back to find Len in a sulk- none of the Waverider's controls are responding properly, and Len won't project his face for a week. The next time Mick is invited to spend time with the Kents, he makes sure to take a small module that will let Len participate as well. If any of the the Kent/Lane/Danvers clan are disturbed by the hologram waving at little Jon and snarking at everyone else, they don't show it.

By the time Jon is old enough to attend school, Len and Mick are his favorite Uncles. He like's the way Uncle Mick smells (even if Mom says that smoke is not a smell he should like) and he likes to look at what is on the typewriter. He knows that Uncle Mick keeps some stories just for him now- Dad had been very insistent about "cutting out the naughty bits" and even though Uncle Mick had laughed and Uncle Len had opened the sprinklers over Dad's head, Jon knew that the pages he was allowed to read were "clean."

And Uncle Len- oh, Jon loved Uncle Len so much! He knew everything about EVERYTHING, just like Uncle Brainy. Except even more, because Uncle Len could tell stories about being a kid and getting in trouble like Uncle Brainy never really could. And more than that, Uncle Len always made sure everything was just right for Jon. Len was the ship, after all, and it was him who made sure that there was a room coated with lead for when the world seemed to loud and too bright, and who made sure to replicate all of Jon's favorite ice cream flavors until Uncle Mick grunted and said "Gotta make the kid some real food, Snowflake" and took over the kitchen.

When he was younger, Jon would be sad that he could not hug Uncle Len. He confessed it first to his parents, who sat down with him and hugged him tight and explained that some things just can't be fixed. Then he asked Aunt Kara, who made a sad face at him but then brightened and suggested hugging the ship. But Jon didn't think that would work- the Waverider was still a ship, not a person, and what part should Jon hug anyway? He asks Aunt Alex. Aunt Alex does not approve of hugging not-dead criminals who control time ships. Finally, he asks Uncle Mick.

Mick snorts and lays a beefy hand on Jon's skinny shoulder. "Lenny was never too fond of hugs, kid. But, see, you don't have to touch someone to know they love ya. Or for them to know you love them."

"What a poet you've become, Mick" Uncle Len's voice echoes through the hall. "Shut it, Snart, I'm trying not to fuck the kid up."

"You said a swear, Uncle Mick."

"Yeah, an' if yer mom wants to come collect my nickel, she's welcome to try. But the point is.... yer Uncle is the Waverider. He's... Snart you can chime in whenever!"

"What my partner is trying to say, Jon, is you can chill out about the hugging thing. It's all cool."

Uncle Mick groaned and glared at the ceiling. In a rare moment, Uncle Len manifested a full bodied projection of himself which rested a ghostly elbow on Uncle Mick's shoulder. "It ain't the kind of touch you're used to, kid. but i can still feel it."

Jon approached and tried to wrap his arms around Uncle Len's waist, disappointed when it went right through. "Not like that, kid. We can't touch. But feeling's different."

Mick pulled Jon onto his lap and the holo of Uncle Len smiled at them, his ghostly hands passing through Jon's hair as he pressed a kiss to Uncle Mick's head. "You'll get it eventually."

And one night, curled up in his room on the Waverider crying into his pillow because Damian had gotten them in trouble and then they'd fought something awful, Jon felt the pressure in the room increase, as though a warm weight rested on his back. His mattress rocked gently in the bedframe and then.... Jon got it. This was a hug from Uncle Len. Not touching, but feeling. Uncle Len's hugs were the best hugs of them all, Jon decided. And then he let himself be lulled to sleep, safe as he could ever be here on a stolen timeship with a pair of thieves.

Nothing in the Batcave could ever compare to this.

fin

#dccoldwave #mick rory #leonard snart #jon kent #clark kent #lois lane #kara danvers #Sam drops a fluff bomb #sam writes stuff #crisis spoilers #crisis on infinite earths #supersons #crime husbands #crisis inspired me #waverider #coldwave are great with kids #fight me

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cdelphiki · 5 years

Text

Bewildered was the only word Damian could use to describe how he felt.

Because just that morning, he hadn’t expected anyone to acknowledge what the day even was. But now, after he’d spent the morning playing video games with Jon, chatting with his Father on the phone, and then having a rather lovely lunch, people were showing up at the apartment.

Lots of people.

People Damian knew.

That he’d call family, if pressed.

...Plus Drake’s insufferable friends.

Which was just weird. Kon and Stephanie were there among the attendees, right along side Jason, Cass, Duke, and Alfred.

So yes, Damian was bewildered. Or befuddled. Or just plain old confused.

Alfred he understood, of course. Even if the two of them had barely spoken since Damian got whisked away to the Kent’s, Alfred had always been one to remember things. And despite their relationship’s rocky start, Alfred had always been someone stable and supportive in his life. So, actually, he thought himself stupid for not realizing Alfred would actually remember.

It was the rest of these people that startled him.

He’d felt off kilter ever since he’d answered the door, an hour before, at Jon’s insistence that “it’s for you, D.”

Which, that was just annoying. The x-ray vision. The flagrant use of powers within the privacy of the apartment. Damian wasn’t used to it. Clark and Jon just…. casually floated around, sometimes. Used heat vision to heat things up. Speed to get chores done in a blink. And x-ray vision to look at and find things.

Damian was becoming progressively more amused by the exasperated glances Lois shot him, though, whenever one of them forgot that the rest of them couldn’t just look through the fridge door to see how many eggs were left.

It usually made him grin, actually. And he’d caught himself giving her the same look, a few times.

When Damian opened the door, however, he kind of wished he did have x-ray vision. Just so he could have had those precious few seconds to prepare himself.

Because on the other side of the door was Tim Drake. Just standing there. Holding a neatly wrapped gift with a card on top, and surrounded by all those people.

“Uhh,” Damian had stammered, a horrid habit he’d acquired from Jon, no doubt.

“Hey,” Tim had said, offering a lopsided grin as he pushed the gift at Damian, “Happy Birthday, gremlin. Gonna let us in?”

So Damian did, and it’d been a literal party ever since.

Which was what was so bewildering.

He’d never had a birthday party before.

Not like this.

They had cake and ice cream, as a group, and suddenly it made sense why Lois and Clark had made such a large cake. Before Damian was allowed to blow out his candles, he had to listen to the group sing him a ridiculous song, and it made him nostalgic for that first birthday he'd had away from the League.

Back when it was just him and Grayson and Alfred.

Grayson had sung this same song, all off key and squeaky, entirely on purpose, just to annoy Damian. But it’d been that gentle teasing, The kind Damian had come to associate with Dick Grayson. The kind that made him ache for his older brother, wishing beyond hope that the man would just hit his head and suddenly remember everything. Even though he knew that was not how brain injuries worked.

But just as the song had done on his 11th birthday, it made Damian feel warm inside on his 14th. It filled, just a little, that empty spot in his chest. The one that so often burned, with a soft almost…. happiness he had a difficult time describing. But damn was he going to cry again today. Especially not in front of all these people.

It was one thing to cry in front of the Kents, but like hell would he make such a mistake in front of the Bats.

“Clark,” Damian asked, once everyone had finished their cake and Clark and Lois were gathering the plates to wash, so they could ‘open presents,’ as Jon had shouted so enthusiastically. Brat probably knew whatever Damian got would be stored in their room, and therefore was basically his, too.

At least, that had been his reasoning, a few weeks back, when Damian caught Jon using his nice markers to draw the most horrific drawing of his dad he’d ever laid eyes on. ‘A school project,’ he had said, ‘we have to draw our favorite superhero.’ Damian had just scoffed and criticized both his misuse of the expensive Copics, as well as his predictable selection of his own father as his favorite superhero.

‘Isn’t Batman your favorite,’ Jon had said, to which Damian scoffed, ‘Yes, but Bruce Wayne is not.’ It had effectively shut Jon up. And relaying the price of each marker had also caused Jon to hand them back over, not wanting to replace any by ruining them.

“Yeah, bud?” Clark asked, smiling as he rinsed off each plate at lightning speed, even while he spoke to Damian. They were alone in the kitchen, and even though it was an open concept apartment, the group was being loud enough that Damian was confident in their privacy.

“Did you invite everyone?” he asked, resisting the urge to look away or pull his hood up. He hated his tells, and he tried his best not to show them.

“No,” Clark said easily, now drying the dishes off and putting them away in the cabinets. Why have a dishwasher when you have a Clark, Lois always said. “Tim did, actually. This entire party was his idea.”

“Tim Drake,” Damian asked incredulously. Because that made no sense. Damian had just been curious whether he should thank the Kents or Alfred for the party. It had never even crossed his mind that Tim might be the culprit.

Because what the hell??

“Is there more than one Tim?” Clark asked, clearly amused, now just leaning back against the sink to chat.

Well, yes, there was more than one Tim, Damian thought, but it was true that he didn’t personally know another Tim. It’s just, never in a million years would he have expected Tim Drake to be the one to do something so…. thoughtful. To be the reason Damian felt at peace for once, in a world without Dick Grayson, that is. And without Father around.

“But… Tim hates me?” Damian whispered, failing to prevent his shock from showing on his face, “Why would he….”

When Damian trailed off, Clark just frowned. “I don’t know what all has gone down between you two,” Clark said slowly but softly. In that same tone he always used when comforting Damian. He kind of hated that he liked it so much. “But I can tell you this: He does not hate you. I’d venture to say he actually loves you.”

All Damian could do was shake his head. Because no. No no no no no. That wasn’t right.

That couldn’t be right.

Tim Drake did not love Damian. Tim was the one who always rolled his eyes whenever Damian started speaking at family meetings. He was the one who groaned whenever Damian crashed one of his cases. When he had to team up with the Teen Titans, and Damian was there. When Father assigned them to patrol together. When he just remembered Damian existed, in general.

And it’s not like Damian didn’t deserve it. He realized, now, how wrongly he had treated his ‘brother’ from the beginning. Pushing him off the dinosaur had been unforgivable, he now knew. The fact Tim even tolerated him enough to simply groan and roll his eyes at his presence was more than Damian deserved, after breaking so many of his bones for no good reason.

So, no, Tim Drake did not love Damian. It was impossible. If their roles were reversed, Damian would never forgive Tim. Ever. Would be glad to be rid of him after this whole thing went down between Father and the rest of them, pulling Damian out of Gotham and Tim away from Father.

“Damian,” Clark said, wrapping his arm around Damian’s shoulders and pulling him in a little, “whatever is going around in that head of yours is wrong, okay? Tim cares about you, pal. Otherwise he wouldn’t have reached out weeks ago to make these plans. All those people over there care about you. They wouldn’t be here if they didn’t, okay?”

Resting the side of his head against Clark for a second, the only acceptance of the half hug he’d show, Damian looked at the group of people sitting in the living room, carrying on and laughing about whatever dumb thing Jason had just said.

Steph noticed he was staring, and she smiled brightly and called, “Come on, birthday boy. Come open your presents, and be prepared to be amazed by my awesome gift. Everything else on this table pales in comparison, I promise.”

“Shut up,” Jason said, tossing a chip at her for the comment, “I’ll have you know my gift is very thoughtful and incredible. The demon will cry I tell you. Cry.”

“Pfft,” Tim said loudly, “Mine’s the best. Kon already confirmed it.”

“That’s cheating,” Steph screeched, “You can’t use powers like that!”

It just devolved into chaos from there, as the lot of them continued arguing. Clark squeezed Damian’s shoulder and said, “Go on. I don’t think they’ll stop until you open them all and declare a winner.”

“Tt,” Damian huffed, even though he was smiling a little, “it is not proper to play favorites with gifts. It is the thought that counts, I have been told.”

“There’s the Alfred in you,” Clark said fondly, pushing Damian toward the living room.

The gifts were all incredible. Well, some more-so than others. Jason got him a gift card to one of the local art supply chains, as well as a copy of one of his favorite books. Alfred got him a set of teas, all of his favorites from when he was living in the manor. Steph got him a cartoon-style Robin figure, which was just insulting and kind of hilarious.

But when Damian opened Tim’s gift, he make sure to pay attention to his brother’s face, without making it obvious he was doing so. Tim’s expressions were carefully blank, but Damian could tell he was doing that to cover up for anxiety and excitement for whatever he had gotten Damian. And once the item was fully unwrapped, all Damian could do was gawk.

Because in Damian’s hands was a set of extremely rare natural pigments. He actually hadn’t even heard of half of the pigment sources, that was how obscure they were. But they were some of the most vibrant colors he’d ever seen. Bright purple, rich orange, dark blue, deep red, just to name a few of the colors he saw.

They were…. incredible.

He actually could not wait to mix some of them up and try them out.

“I got them in the gem world,” Tim explained, “a lot of those are made from materials not found on earth.”

When Damian realized what that confession meant, he almost did cry. Because at some point, months ago, before this entire fiasco had even begun, Tim Drake had seen a set of pigments while stranded in another dimension and thought ‘hey, Damian would like those,’ and then got them. Stored them away and waited for his birthday, and then planned an entire party when he realized the Bats were not doing one.

Just that realization threatened to set him over the edge again, but instead he just smiled.

He smiled and started to think that, yeah. Maybe Tim didn’t hate him.

Damian definitely didn’t hate Tim.

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sweet-teas-writing · 4 years

Text

A Woman Scorned (Chp 2)

A/N: Here is chapter 2!

Two: Not Good Enough

Work was my safe haven whenever I have a rough morning at home. I worked as one of the top marketing directors for Springwells Marketing Agency. My job was to work with my team to design the best advertising for our clients' products to help increase profit and recognition. I loved creating new ideas, using different patterns and techniques to make sure our products are known throughout the city of Miami and the whole state of Florida. Once I reached my floor, I was greeted by my best friends Yolanda Rodriguez and Blake Sanders. Yolanda was like my sister, we were practically joined at the hip since we were 8 years old. She's happily married to her husband Carlos and have two adorable twin girls who are my godchildren: Hayden and Harmony. They love their Tia Ava, and those two little girls are my life and I treat them like they were my own, considering I don't have any children. And Blake, my openly gay friend, was always great at cheering me up. He always knew how to make me laugh. He's charming, sassy, and loves to party. Blake's also such a helpless romantic, always wanting to see happy couples. Which is how he won the heart of his current partner Damian. Although a lot of people don't approve of their relationship, I'm always glad to see my best friend in love. I loved them both to death.

"Hey beautiful," Yolanda greeted me with a smile and a hug. Her wavy black hair in a neat bun and her brown eyes shimmered in glee upon seeing me. "How's your morning going, mami?"

I returned her hug and gave her a slight grin: "I'm good love," I said. "Just had a little spat with Jason before I left."

Blake rolled his eyes before he scoffed. His normally cheerful, sassy demeanor now held a sense of annoyance, his jade green eyes flaring in anger. "Honey, when are you gonna leave his trifling ass? I hate seeing you come into work like you're on the brink of tears."

I winced at his words.

"Blake that's harsh," Yolanda scolded.

"No," I said. "It's okay. I've been asking myself that same question. And my answer is still the same: I have no clue. It's obvious that were no good for each other, but yet neither of us have left yet. Well, Jason checked out a long time ago but… I just don't know why he treats me this way. He looks at me like I disgust him, but yet he acts like he can't live without me."

I could feel the tears form again before Blake hugged me. "Don't cry Ava," he soothed. "I didn't mean to be rude; you know I just want the best for you. You're sweet, passionate, and you deserve someone who can give you the same love you give him." He kissed the crown of my head. "I just really want to kick his ass for you," he mumbled under his breath.

I giggled then wiped my tears. "As much as I would enjoy to see that, I don't want you going to jail for that bastard."

"For you I would," Blake cooed.

Yolanda gave a sympathetic smile before she spoke again: "Oh Ava, I almost forgot to tell you. We have a new client. He specifically asked for your services. Come on, I placed his file in your office."

My spirits lifted and my excitement grew. I loved receiving new clients, and it's flattering when they ask for me specifically. I eagerly followed Yolanda to my office, with Blake in tow, to see a big brown folder sitting on my desk. I sat down in my chair and Yolanda and Blake stood on either side of me as I observed the contents of our new client.

"His name is Alastor Montez," Yolanda said. "He distributes his own line of cigars and wine from California to numerous major cities in the western U.S. He moved to Florida about a year ago, and so many people are looking to buy his products. The man has built himself a large, successful empire and is looking to expand his business to the East Coast."

"And he's also been named Miami's Hottest Bachelor," Blake said with a wink and a bite of his lip. "Mmm I can tell, that man is so damn fine it's sinful."

"Honestly I agree," Yolanda chimed, a faint blush painting her face. "How can a man like him still be single?"

"If he ever wants to hang out, I'll be glad to show him a good time if you know what I mean," Blake said in a sultry tone.

Yolanda raised an amused eyebrow: "You think Damian will approve of that?"

Blake did a half shrug: "He can always join us," he said jokingly. "Damian is known to like an audience."

I shook my head at my friends and blew out a puff of air. "You guys are too damn much." I observed the profile picture that he provided at the top of the folder. Thick dark hair, bright hazel eyes, nicely tanned olive skin, and a smile that could blind you if you stare too long. He was attractive to look at, I will give them that. As I was observing his picture, something in my brain clicked. He looked… familiar.

"Alastor Montez," I whispered to myself. "Why does that name ring a bell to me?"

"Something wrong Ava?" Yolanda asked.

And then it hit me.

"I know him," I said matter-of-factly.

"Know who?" she asked.

"Him. Alastor. I remember him." I said. "He was an old friend of mine from college. We even went out for like a year and a half."

Blake and Yolanda were stunned.

"You dated him?" Yolanda asked.

"And you let him go?" Blake added. "Girl, you crazy as hell."

"It's all coming back to me now," I said. "I remember him being so charming, his ambition was through the roof, and I remember everyone loving him. Professors and students, both male and female. The chivalry was real with that one. He was always so sweet to me, buying me flowers for my birthday, showing me off to his friends, and girls being were so jealous to see me with him. I think that following summer I broke it off with him, and I barely started to hear from him. He would check in from time to time but the everyday chats ceased. And then once senior year started, all contact stopped completely. I thought it was for the best, but he was definitely such a gentleman to me."

"Like I said," Blake snorted. "You let him go why?"

I thought about it again then shrugged. "Honestly, I have no idea. Maybe I thought he was too much out of my league. Or I couldn't take the taunting I would get from the other girls on campus. Who knows?"

"And he specifically wants you to work marketing his brand?" Yolanda stated curiously.

Blake beamed at me. "It's a sign! I think he wants you back after you broke up with him."

I shook my head at my friend's response. "Yeah right," I said rolling my eyes. "Stop talking nonsense. That was like 8 years ago. Why would he still hold onto that? Plus, I'm married now remember?"

"Ugh don't remind us," Blake deadpanned. "That fucker Jason has cheated on you with how many bitches now? Why shouldn't you have a little love affair of your own?"

"Blake!" Yolanda yelled.

"What 'Landa?" Blake scoffed. "I'm sure Jason wouldn't give a fuck."

"I appreciate the concern Blake," I chimed in. "But me cheating on Jason would make me just as bad as him. I wouldn't dare stoop to his level."

Blake gave a heavy sigh. "You're such a good woman, Ava. I just wish that you can see that you deserve better than him."

"I know you mean well honey," I said with a sad smile. "But I'll be okay. I promise."

Yolanda spoke up again to break the tension in the room: "Alastor will be in tomorrow morning at 9AM to meet the team and discuss the details of how he wants to sell his products. Think you are up for the challenge, mami?"

I gave an ambitious glare towards her and smiled: "You know I love a good challenge. I'm looking forward to seeing him again."

"And I'm sure he's looking forward to seeing you again," Blake said with a grin.

"Watch it Blake," I warned.

Blake held up his hands in defense. "Okay I quit."

I did another glance at Alastor's picture before closing the file and following Yolanda and Blake out of my office. I feel this is gonna be interesting….

*Later that evening*

Following a successful workday, I managed to make my current client's product increase profit by 15% after she signed with me, and having dinner with Blake and Yolanda I walked into an empty condo, with the only light coming in from the bedroom.

"Jason?" I called out. "Honey, I'm home."

Upon hearing no answer, I could feel my heart drop into my stomach. Every time he stays out this late, I know he's with another woman. He's probably with that Rosalyn bitch. She seems to be his favorite out of all his "friends." I caught him with her trashy perfume on his shirt and one of her earrings in his pocket the last time he went out. He always denies that he's not seeing her anymore, but I'm not stupid.

I deeply sighed as I placed my purse and work bag down. Maybe Jason won't do anything this time, but Lord knows I'm only kidding myself. I walked into our shared bedroom, took off my heels, and let down my hair. I went through my drawer and pulled out a light pink silk nightgown. Yolanda picked it out for me, saying it would look good on me. Maybe I can surprise Jason when he gets home, get a little sexy for him. I smiled at the thought before I went into the bathroom. I turned on the hot water of the walk-in shower before I undressed and stepped inside. The hot water felt good against my skin, letting it run through my hair as well. I grabbed my soap and lathered it on my washcloth, scrubbing my neck and shoulders, my arms and armpits, and making my way down to my breasts, stomach and legs. I let my fingers roam the soapy exterior of my body, gently brushing my neck, breasts and stomach, relaxing in the heat coming from the hot water. The soap slid off my body in a steady flow and I threw my head back in content, enjoying every moment of my shower. I sighed in a state of bliss, closed my eyes, and tried to imagine Jason here in the shower with me, massaging my shoulders and kissing behind my neck. Sadly, it was hard to keep the thought in my mind and I gave up after a few moments.

Feeling the water getting cold, I then grabbed the shampoo and deeply scrubbed my hair and followed up with a heavy amount of conditioner in my hair to help detangle it. I turned off the water before grabbing my towel to dry off my body and wrap my hair. I put on a pair of black lace panties and put on the nightgown. After I towel dried my hair, I took a detangling comb and combed through the tangles and knots of my hair, starting from the ends and making my way up to the roots. The conditioner sitting in made it easier to comb through, and I could see my bouncy dark curls start to take form again. I rinsed out the excess conditioner with a spray bottle of water before adding my moisturizer and towel drying it one more time. I side parted my hair and fluffed my curls, satisfied of my appearance. The nightgown hugged my curves beautifully, then I went to the bed to apply lotion to my skin, my natural glow starting to return. Afterwards, I went to the kitchen to grab a bottle of wine and a glass before heading back to our bedroom. I laid across the bed, freshly clean and feeling sexy, and settled with a book I was currently reading as I waited patiently for my husband to come home to me.

Hours went by and Jason still hasn't come home yet. I already finished my novel and the entire bottle of wine before I checked the clock; it was almost 1:00 a.m. A lump formed in my throat and I felt my eyes prickle with tears. I have to be at work in the morning and I couldn't stay up for him any longer. I set my book aside, picked up my empty wine bottle and glass and headed to the kitchen. I was placing the wine bottle in the recycling bin and my glass in the sink when I heard the front door open. Jason stumbled in giggling to himself and his clothes and hair were a bit disheveled. He was walking towards our bedroom when he locked eyes with me standing in the kitchen. His smile quickly vanished upon seeing me.

"Ava," he said flatly. "I thought you went to bed by now."

"I wanted to wait until you got home," I responded.

Jason rolled his eyes in annoyance. "I told you that you didn't have to. Also, what the hell are you wearing?" he asked as he looked me up and down.

"Do you like it?" I asked innocently. "I wore it for you. Yolanda said you might like it."

Jason laughed mockingly at me. "You gotta stop listening to Yolanda. Listen, I'm about to go take a shower. It's nice that you waited up for me but you can go to bed now."

I followed Jason back to the bedroom to find him sitting on the bed taking off his shoes and tossing them in the corner. I climbed behind him and massaged his shoulders before kissing his cheek.

"I missed you today," I cooed but he said nothing. "Did you have a good day at work today?" Again, nothing. I wrapped my arms around his neck and nuzzled my nose into his neck. Then, all of a sudden, my nose twitched up at the scent on his clothes. I took another inhale and I smelled the familiar trashy perfume. I also saw a small bruise on his neck, more than likely a hickey. My anger boiled and I gritted my teeth.

"You were with her tonight were you?" I said trying to keep my cool.

Jason looked over his shoulder. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Don't play stupid with me. I can smell her on your shirt. Only she wears this disgusting perfume. Plus explain the fucking hickey on your neck."

Jason stood up from to get some distance from me. "Look Ava I don't know what you're thinking but…"

I cut him off, my anger spilling over. "You said you weren't seeing her anymore! God Jason, you fucking promised me!"

"It was just a few drinks! Jesus Ava, you're so damn paranoid."

"I'm paranoid?! You coming home smelling like the bitch and a mark on your neck makes me paranoid?"

"Stop calling her that," Jason warned.

I scoffed. "So you care about what I call your little whore? Goddamn it Jason, I don't know why I put up with you! One minute you love me and the next minute you can't stand to even look at me. I'm your wife Jason! I'm supposed to be the number one woman in your life!"

Jason crossed his arms and locked eyes with me. "Well if you feel that way, then why don't you leave?"

"I…" I started to answer but then I went silent. My eyes downcasted to a spot on the bed.

"That's what I thought," Jason said smugly. "You always threaten to leave me Ava, but you never do. You always end up coming back to me, giving me another chance. It's pretty sad, if you ask me."

A tear fell down from my cheek and I clenched my jaw. "Well why are you still here, then?"

Jason shrugged. "Because you actually are a great wife as far as cooking my meals and cleaning the house. Rosalyn, I mean, she's great in bed but she's a shitty cook."

I glared angrily at him. "So I'm just a maid to you?"

"Ava, don't act like this is new to you. I haven't touched you in months. We haven't had sex in God knows how long. The spark is just gone from us."

"Well, what can I do to change that?" I asked him, almost begging. "What can I do to make you love me again?!"

Jason walked up to me and tilted my chin upward to get closer to my face. "It's a little too late for that, babe. You're just not good enough for me anymore."

He let go of my face and proceeded to go into the bathroom. He shut the door behind him, leaving me sitting in shock on the bed. The sting of his words pierced through my heart and I sobbed quietly to myself. I curled myself into my pillow, feeling foolish and heartbroken, and continued to cry until I fell asleep.

Tag List: @sirenascales @masked--empress @evilangel84 @wwevampireamongkpop @queen-legacy-productions @defenseofourdreams6277 @neversatisfiedgirlfics @superrezzy00 @writing-reigns and anyone else who wants to read it!

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bigskydreaming · 5 years

Text

Imagine that Dick and Jason liiiiiive to synchronize their Let’s Be Shits schedules just in time for any posh gala the Wayne children are expected to attend.

Some Douchebag is like “So, Richard. What is it you do, these days?”

And Dick just plasters on the most vacuous smile in existence, like the kind that could only be engineered in a lab by combining Brucie with a Colgate commercial for sparkling teeth, special effects included.

And he’s like, “Oh, I’m an instagram model and social influencer.”

And then Jason appears out of nowhere, swaying on his feet and throwing an arm around Dick’s shoulder as if to support himself, hiccuping a little and splashing some of his wine over the edge of his glass (its apple juice, of course).

“So am I,” he says, punctuating with another hiccup. “But only like. Ironically.”

Dick leans in towards the Douchebag as if to confide a secret, as the latter tries to lean away whilst still figuring out what expression his face wants to produce.

“He keeps saying that like it means something, but I’m not sure it does. I think he saw it on a youtube video and just started copying it. That’s not copyright infringement right? Bruce’ll probably be pissed if he has to pay out another lawsuit for copyright stuff after I just got in trouble for trying to sell tickets to my band’s show without getting permission to use all the songs we did. Like, how was I supposed to know you needed permission to sing songs? Isn’t this, like. America?”

The Douchebag starts stammering and attempting to edge gracefully away - hell, he’ll settle for not gracefully, he really was never even looking for an answer in the first place, just a soundbite he could reenact for his snobby friends later. This was more than he was actually prepared for.

Jason meanwhile surges forward and grabs a hold of Douchebag’s suited arm, acting like he still needs the support.

“Hey. It does so mean something, and I came up with it on my own, I didn’t steal shit. If I was going to steal stuff, I’d go for the silver, not words, how dumb do you think I am? He’s always doing this,” he complains to the Douchebag.

“Just because I didn’t start school until the sixth grade and had to bribe our little brother to take all my tests for me, he acts like I don’t even know what words mean. But he’s the one who only passed his senior year of high school by getting Playgirl to do a photoshoot of him when he turned eighteen just before finals, and then most of his teachers just made sure he passed so they wouldn’t feel pervy because they’d gone gaga over his photos and then he got held back a year and they had to see him every day and feel sketchy.”

Dick spreads his arms wide as if an extremely self-explanatory point has just been made.

“Hello? Is that, or is that not, a display of genius?”

“Really, I do have to be going, I think I see my old business partner waving at me from over there - “ the Douchebag says somewhat desperately.

“Dammit Jay, look what you did.” Dick wails dramatically. He even stomps a foot for good measure. Jason’s struggling not to laugh. “You’re embarrassing us in front of one of Bruce’s guests. Now he thinks we’re low class and its going to be all over the news and this is gonna be the last straw and Bruce’ll get fed up and say we can never go to these things again and its going to be all your fault and none of this would ever happen if you weren’t always like. Ugh. What’s the word.”

The Douchebag is hastily assuring them he doesn’t think they’re embarrassing or low class and he’s not going to tell anyone otherwise, while still trying to pry his jacket sleeve loose from Jason’s iron grip. Jason meanwhile appears oblivious to anything the Douchebag says or does, as he fixates on his brother and starts waving his own arms around dramatically....which sends Douchebag stumbling in the process, all without either brother seeming to notice.

“Well I’m sure I can’t help you, since I don’t know words so good,” Jason hisses equally dramatically. “I’m just a fucking dumbass from the Narrows, isn’t that right. I’m not some fancy circus boy like you were, all I had to practice reading on as a kid was my rap sheet.”

He moves to fling his arms over his head in exasperation, and tears the Douchebag’s suit sleeve with a resounding ripping noise in the process. Douchebag stares at the remains of the jacket that cost several thousand dollars that he doesn’t have, because he’s a pompous jackass who lives beyond his means in an attempt to fund his social ladder climbing expeditions.

“Now look what you did,” Dick cries, flinging his head back as if in total despair, the black locks of his hair flying from side to side in theatrical disarray. “Do you even know how much that poor man’s suit must have cost him? Probably more than my parents’ trailer, I’ll bet you that much.”

“Really, its quite alright,” the Douchebag tries to insist through clenched teeth. It wasn’t, in his eyes, not by a long shot, but he forced himself to remember that for whatever reasons, these two...peasants were still Bruce Wayne’s chosen wards....or well, worse yet...adopted sons. God, but that man’s abyssmal IQ was an absolute plague on Gotham’s high society. “It could have happened to anyone.”

“No, please, don’t try and cover for him, he’ll never learn that way. You must let us pay for the damage, Bruce will just take it out of his allowance, it’ll be fine,” Dick says, patting at the man’s arm feverishly as if he can smooth out the gaping hole left by the flap now hanging limply down the man’s sleeve.

“Oh, I’ll never learn? How about you, destroying Bruce’s grandmother’s antique china at the birthday party you tried to throw for Damian after Bruce specifically asked you not to try and play host anymore?” Jason gets in his brother’s face, liquid sloshing over the side of his erratically swinging glass and in the process splashing all over the back of the Douchebag’s neck.

“I was trying to actually do something nice for someone else, not that you’d know anything about that,” Dick hisses obnoxiously loudly. “How was I supposed to know you weren’t supposed to use steak knives to cut up food on china? Its not like plates come with instruction manuals!”

“Not like you’d know how to read them if they did!”

“Have you never heard of Youtube tutorials?”

“Have you never heard of shut the fuck up, you absolute dillhole?”

“Would both of you stop it? You’re causing a scene!” The two’s younger brother Timothy arrived on the scene, smoothly sliding between them and the ecstatically grateful Douchebag, who backpeddles out of the way at the first available opportunity. Tim throws him an apologetic glance, but the Douchebag barely notes it as he furiously makes for the side entrance as fast as he can, with the less people seeing his disheveled state the better.

So much for the networking he had planned on doing the rest of the night. He firmly vowed to steer far clear of the eldest two Wayne buffoons at all future events Brucie insisted on inflicting the oafs on the rest of them.

All of which of course means he completely missed the way the brothers’ dramatics hushed into heated whispers upon Tim’s arrival, or the high five Dick and Jason slipped each other discreetly.

“Let’s see Brucie top that,” Jason says smugly.

“Oh god. You’ve finally done it. You’ve turned a charity event into a war games scenario.”

“Oh please. All of that money goes straight into the board of directors’ pockets,” Dick says dismissively. “The only actual money being raised for charity tonight is from the jewelry Selina’s liberating from the guests. And Damian and Cass already called dibs on helping her with that, and Duke’s already doing the scorekeeping for when that inevitably turns into a competition, so we were bored. And left alone to our own devices. So really if anyone’s to blame its everyone but us.”

“Sides, this is a time honored tradition for us,” Jason adds with a smirk. “We call it guerilla class warfare. We’re sleeper agents for the working class, see.”

“You’re the reason the Valentinos never show up to any Wayne Enterprise hosted events anymore, aren’t you?” Tim realizes.

“Some of our best work,” Dick reminisces fondly. Their little brother sighs.

“Please at least tell me you never actually posed for Playgirl.”

Dick shrugs. “Oh, they offered, but even when Bruce and I were at our worst, its not like I ever actually wanted to give him a stroke.”

“Continuity error,” Jason points out smugly. “Total amateur move.”

Dick merely arches a brow. “Not when I can simply claim Bruce must have paid to cover it up for the sake of the family image, and was absolutely furious at my besmirching of the good Wayne family name. And wait a second, weren’t you the one who introduced that into the scene in the first place? I just yes and-ed according to the rules of improv, like the professional that I am.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t sound right,” Jason says, completely unperturbed. Not an ounce of perturbed in sight. He continues on smoothly. “And if Sir Douchely of Douchington actually digs a little deeper and yet can’t seem to find anyone who recalls ever actually seeing this oh so salacious spread?”

Dick’s shit remains unphased.

“I’ll simply flip the script and release the hounds aka Steph, Harper, Cullen and all three dozen of their twitter handles, wondering all over the Gotham social media highways just why someone of his standing is so intent on tracking down the homoerotic depravities of the eldest Wayne heir, given that despite his unjust leapfrogging up the social ladder, he is still ultimately a....commoner.”

“Ah yes,” Jason nods sagely. “And as all Gothamites know well, if you prick us, we doth not bleed blue. Just a terribly pedestrian red.”

“Oh the humanity,” Dick sighs. He joins his younger brother in nodding the slow, steady head-bob of the intellectually validated, their seeming rivalry melting into sibling synchronicity.

Tim eyes them and shakes his head side to side instead.

“You two disturb me.”

Jason shrugs. “Well, that does make sense. Don’t get me wrong, you’re our little brother and we’re terribly fond of you now, Timmers. But when the revolution comes, we will have to turn on you as well.”

“Fair is fair,” Dick hums in agreement. “We can’t play favorites. That’s how you get an upper class in the first place.”

“Yeah I don’t know what to do with this,” Tim sighs and heads off in search of Steph.

“Just FYI, your girlfriend’s Team Proletariat too. She’s got the T-shirt and everything,” Jason calls after him.

Tim swerves in mid-step and redirects himself towards Kate. At least their cousin slash-aunt-slash-nobody’s-bothered-to-parse-the-actual-relation-there could be counted on to be somewhat normal. Her idea of making a scene was to simply start a brawl, and Tim had overheard Bruce specifically elicit a promise from her earlier in the evening that she would throw no punches or kicks or headbutts or judo throws, nor any manner of actual or improvised weaponry.

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