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#as much as he hates it the fact that a Lazarus Pit Demon hates death makes sense
justwannabecat · 1 year
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So one of those Danny gets spat into the DC universe things, but he’s shot out of a Lazarus Pit in Phantom form. The dirty ectoplasm fucked up his memories and all he knows for sure is that he used to guard a portal that, just like this one, was glowing a radioactive green. So when he explains that to Ra’s (because let’s be honest, the guy totally would talk to Danny one on one) Ra’s basically goes “You must have been sent to us to guard our Pits” and Danny, amnesiac that he is, goes “Probably” and goes along with it.
They train him to kill, but each time he does he ends up crying over the bodies he kills. His tears bring them back, but as a thrall. Rather than deal with Pit Madness they’re undyingly loyal to Danny and Danny alone. Since Ra’s can’t trust them to be loyal to him, though, at most they become guards for outside of the base.
One of these guards, despite their loyalty to Danny, sees that Danny isn’t so much happy as he is accepting. And so they go to the one person they know to have repeatedly stood up to the League of Assassins in the past, Batman, and ask for his help. Not to save themselves, but to save Danny and get his memories back.
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Braaaaaaains...
Jason Todd is legally – and biologically – dead. His family noted his lack of pulse at three in the morning, inside the cave, his body laid out on a table with medical instruments.
No, really, tell him something he doesn't know.
What else crawls out of a grave moaning and groaning?
Or, Jason thought his family full of the world's greatest detectives was smarter than this. Apparently not.
****************************************************************
It had been an ordinary night. Calm. The stage for very little costumed crime and barely more regular, non-insane crime as well. Half the menagerie that made up Dick's loving ragtag bunch of younger siblings had even taken the night off.
Nothing should have make him arrive to silence this thick, to this faint echo of sniffling.
He sprinted after the noise.
Damian's fine, left before me. Duke didn't go out, nor did Steph. Babs spent the evening with Cass in the cave, Tim swept the bowery and said he was going to stop by Jason's place to-
He collided with a shaking, tear stained Tim right outside the medbay.
There was a body on the closest table. Others around it, crying, pacing, muttering in denial.
Dick couldn't look.
No, no, please, please no. I can't do that again. I can't!
Scarred skin, too pale – to be Duke or Cass – by death. His breath hitched. No. He. Fuck.
He knew those scars. Those arms. That chest and that fucking Y from navel to shoulders.
“Dick! Jason... he was...  I found him in his apartment. And I brought him to the cave... but... Jason doesn't have a pulse. He's... cold...”
Dick stumbled.
No.
No, no, no, that... that couldn't be real.
He caught himself on his little brother. Brought himself into a hug too tight, as painful as the arms gripping his ribs and back. A grip meant for a lifesaving light at sea. For a safeline over a ravine.
Twice. He'd lost the same brother twice. And this time, he didn't even have the excuse of inexperience and unstable situations. He... he patrolled the city whilst his brother was dead, completely oblivious to the fact. How could he? How dare he not know?!
“Shh, Tim, I'm here. I'm here.” But not for Jason, whispered a vicious part of him.
“What's all this?”
Dick's heart just about stopped.
Damian stood at the entrance to the lockers' room, uniform folded under one arm, hair slightly damp from a shower and Bat-themed pajamas worn without shame. His mild annoyance was proof he had no idea of the drama that had happened not twenty feet from him.
With reluctance, he let go of Tim, a gentle hand lingering on his shoulder, before he took a few steps toward his youngest, most vulnerable brother.
“D-Dami, I... ”   Damn it, he had to be the one to tell Damian about this. Because otherwise, the person to break the news would be Bruce, and-
Shit.
Bruce.
Oh God. How could they possibly tell him- ? After all their fights, the goddamned shattering that had broken the man he had been, and their last conversations even being more admonishment about protocols that Jason had flippantly disregarded. Bruce would never recover. That was it. The end of Batman.
...But first, God he hated himself, wanted to just curl up in a corner and forget everything, first he had a young brother he needed to talk to. One... one little brother less than just this afternoon.
“Jason... ” He swallowed, his throat tight, his heart in denial, the words so damning, but needing to be said. “Jason did not make it. He... he's dead.”
Damian stayed thoughtfully silent.
Not... not the tearful reaction he had expected, but Damian had grown up surrounded by so much death and horror that he would obviously be guarded. And oh, Dick's heart went to his baby brother, and he truly wished he could
“I do not understand. Why such theatrics for the zombie?”
Dick gasped, knowledge warring with the flash of anger.
“Damian! He's our brother!”
“Did he lose his head?” Damian demanded, and Dick's mind buckled.
“Huh, no, but that doesn't have anything to d-”
“Then, why are you acting so weirdly emotional, Richard?”
Before Dick's temper could catch up to his mouth, the longest and most painful-sounding gasp erupted from the medbay, where, to the general shock of all, Jason's gray-ish body shot upward with both his arms raised.
Electroshocks didn't make you jolt like that.
Electroshocks, in fact, remained in their kit on the other side of the medbay, unused. Because Jason had seemingly been dead long before he had been brought to the cave.
That was roughly the moment when Dick's brain caught up with the first of many hints. Latched onto it with a fool's hope.
“... Damian... When you were calling Jason a 'zombie', what did you mean?”
Damian's brows scrunched up together, a look he meant to be intimidating, but had more in common with a disgruntled kitten. “Exactly that, Richard. Do we not have files on zombies in the computer? Dead bodies walking about animated by unholy powers?”
Jason's not- Dick forced the half formed thought to a halt. For once, he rather wanted to be very, very wrong in how he perceived his family.
“What's with all the noise? Can't someone try to sleep like the dead without screaming?” Jason groused. “Should have gotten myself buried ag-OOF!”
“JASON!” screamed the hysterical teenager that had launched himself at a very lively dead body.
“Huhh? Hi, Timmy?” Jason said blearily, ruffling Tim's hair, eyebags suspiciously prominent. “... Fear gas?”
The blinking slowed, the fog of sleep drifting away as he silently begged the rest of them for an answer.
Happily provided by a still crying Tim. “I thought you were gone!”
“What is dead may never die,” Jason quipped, his mouth twisting in that cocksure grin from his Robin days.
And Dick wanted nothing more than to stop right there, pass out from the relief and joy of his little brother being alive and kicking, but...
But... 
That joke. One of many morbidly unfunny jokes and puns.
Bone-deep fatigue crushed his back. A bitter curse for whatever higher forces messing with them echoed strongly inside his skull, before he gave in to the inevitable and inhaled a few times for patience.
“Jason. We thought you were dead-dead.”
With prickly, hedgehog style affection, Jason pushed Tim back and stood up, stretching. “Come off it, Goldie. I wasn't even decapitated. I mean, if you were really worried, you could have just called a necromancer or something.” His expression hardened. “But if you ever call a necromancer on my ass, I'll shoot your perfect glutes.”
Yup, yup, yup, this is happening.
Tim finally wiped the rest of the tears away, helped by one of Stephanie's handkerchiefs, when he froze. “Wait. Your skin's still pale as a corpse.”
The flicker of amusement in Jason's eyes killed it for Dick.
God, how could they have all been this idiotic? If Wally ever learned about this – Shit, did Roy and Kory know before him?!
They were going to laugh their asses off at him.
Jason, unaware of the world recalibration happening in his poor big brother's mind, shrugged and rolled his shoulders – who creaked suspiciously loudly, more like rusty hinges than normal body parts. “Eh, I'm just a bit hungry. Nothing a meal or two won't fix and get some blood flowing back under my s-”
“You're a zombie.”
They turned toward him.
“Way to cross the finish line on time, Mister Rabbit,” Jason drawled.
Barbara, for once, looked completely unprepared. “A zombie,” she repeated, dazed.
Stephanie's nervous giggle died out when she noticed the lack of humor. “... No!”
Cassandra furiously looked down, muttering in her fist. Duke, by contrast, had the expression of a person stuck in a very awkward nightmare.
Even Jason's good-natured ribbing faded in when faced only with the distant screeched of bats. “... Hm, guys, bats, roostery, parasites and octopi? This is old news. What's with all the... ”
He vaguely gestured at their faces.
“Old news?” Tim rasped like he was being strangled.
“I came back from the dead years ago! Come on! Am I in a parallel universe? Hey, Demon Brat,” Jason called, baffled, “you knew, right? I didn't imagine that, right?!”
“Of course, Todd. Mother informed me of everything. Besides, Grandfather's interest in your state of being was of interest for a few weeks. How could I have been ignorant about your zombified state of being?”
In the corner of his eyes, Dick noticed Tim's, Barbara's and Cassandra's expressions all pinching in displeasure. In a way, Dick was reassured. He hadn't been the target of a family-wide hoax to discredit him as an attentive and loving eldest brother. No, he was just naturally blind, apparently.
“He knew?” Tim growled, like it was a personal failing of the fabric of time and space.
Damian's tone was the exact opposite. “And none of you realized...?”
Dick squirmed. “I... huh... you see...”
His baby brother eyed him, completely unimpressed, and for once after years of partnership, Dick felt he deserved every single ounce of it.
“I see... I shall reevaluate the value of this 'detective training' I've been given if this is the result then,” he said, the nearest thing to completely disavowing his older siblings without saying so.  
In other circumstances, perhaps the others would have demanded that Damian stay and explain, but he suspected the quelling look it would have deserved prevented them. Not one of them spoke until Damian had disappeared upstairs and the elevator doors had closed.
“Jason, since when have you been a zombie?”
Jason blinked, jaw hanging. Juuuust enough for some of the scar tissue on his face to stretch past normal. Why did Dick only notice that now?
“Wait, you're all serious? How could you not know? I told you guys!”
And there was Dick's pride rearing its ugly head, because no, no he had not been told and maybe his deductive skills needed a very complete overhaul, but his memory was still excellent!
“You never said that. Heck, we weren't even talking until two years ago!”
“I literally told you all that I crawled out of my grave by myself, groaning the entire time. No experiment, no Lazarus Pit, just a body waking up in its own coffin and deciding to breathe fresh air. Does that not scream 'zombie' to you?”
They cringed.
“Not the only one that returned from beyond,” Babs mumbled. He could see her pull up the mental list right there.
“I greeted you all last meeting with a 'What's up, my bat folks? It's me, your favorite zombie!'. What did you think that meant?”
“That you're an asshole with a morbid sense of humor?” Stephanie quipped, and Jason momentarily paused his indignation to high five her. Fair's fair.
“Okay, but what about that time I got shot in the chest and I told you all not to worry about it?”
“I just figured you were going to get stitched up by Leslie or yourself, you know, regular bat neuroses,” Tim confessed.
Dick made a mental note to keep a much closer eye on Tim's patrols for the next few months.
“From a bullet chest wound?” Jason asked with an incredulousness that was not at all earned, because he was a freaking zombie!
“I thought your armor had blocked it! The hole wasn't bleeding!” Tim protested, cheeks red and tone defensive.
“Well, yeah,” Jason replied. “I don't bleed. It's like some fruit pulp or something. Ain't coming out if you don't press. My heart's not pumping.”
That's a 'nevermind' on the smoothie I saved for after patrol.
“Well, I know that now,” Tim said.
“I feel like I should write it down on the plaque or something,” Jason still sounded amazed, and might have pinched his arm just to be sure he hadn't been daydreaming, “Like, 'a good soldier AND A VERY DISCRETE ZOMBIE!' in big flaming letters. With a spotlight. And a dictionary opened on 'Zombie' or 'Undead'. You know, just in case the next batbrat to come along needs a few subtle hints about my true nature. What'd you think, Dick?”
He could not have been blushing harder than he currently was. “I think shut up.”
“Of course. What about when I shoved my deadly cold toes at Tim under a blanket?”
“Cold feet.”
“Never eating around you guys?”
“Daddy issues with Bruce,” Barbara deadpanned, and got a sock thrown at her for her honesty.
However, Duke, poor kid, turned green. “Wait, so when you offered me some jellied brain... was that not a death joke?”
Dick's stomach spontaneously shrivelled.
By the grimaces and sharp inhales all around, that was a common reaction.
Then the worst possible thing happened: Jason grinned.
He strutted, all confidence and brashness, and viper-quick, snatched an arm around Duke's shoulder. “Narrows, Nightlight, my tiny bitsy bro, everything I do is a death joke. My very existence laughs at death.”
Inside the batcave, the groaning was long-suffering and shameful.
“But that was actually brains,” Duke countered.
“Yeah. Calf brains. It's a delicacy.”
Tim massaged his forehead. What a mood.
Duke narrowed his eyes. “It was purely for the joke, wasn't it?”
Jason patted him on the back so hard Duke faltered. “One tragically wasted on your obtuse mind. I prefer me some Tête fromagée instead. Less like grainy jello.”
Stone-faced, Barbara wheeled herself toward the batcomputer. There, upon a series of quick clicks, she opened up the Bats's files. “Alright, you had your fun. Do you need to eat brains or are you just the world's least funny meathead?”
“I'm the world's most misunderstood vigilante!” Jason loudly protested, milking their pain for all it was worth. And then some. “But yeah, I do. No grey matter in there” -- he tapped his belly -- “no thinking up here.” -- his skull.
“Need some better quality brains then,” Tim stage-whispered to Stephanie.
Cass pointed the finger at Jason. “No killing for brains.”
Jason's good humor flickered with a flash of green. “Ain't ever done it, never will. It's a matter of morals, not hunger, Cass.”
Dick swooped in that minefield before it exploded.
“Great! Proud of you, Jay! You're the good kind of vegetarian zombie,” he said, putting an arm around his ginormous little brother's shoulders.
Wait a minute...
“Hey, you're older than when you died! Zombies don't age.”
“No, I was thrown into a Lazarus Pit, and the evil waters cured the malnutrition-induced delay on my growth. Haven't aged a day since.”
“I just thought you had a weird babyface thing going on,” Tim said.
Jason's grin turned sardonic. “Quite the opposite, Timber.”
Dick put his head in his hands in some vain attempt to prevent his brain from leaking through his ears.  With his luck, his little brother would 'playfully' eat some of it. “There's no way you look this rugged at biologically sixteen! I refuse to believe that.”
“Can you imagine my power if I'd been allowed to reach my full potential?” Jason leered, eyebrows waggling like waves in a sea at storm. “So many heart attacks.”
Barbara and Cassandra exchanged a silent look, and, after a solemn nod, Cassandra reached up to slap Jason upside the head.
“Thank you, Cassandra,” Barbara told her. “Jason, never do such a thing again.”
The disgruntled groan that followed must have been on purpose, because Jay was indeed an asshole.
“Besides, it's not like the world will ever know,” Tim said, cutting, a smirk hiding by his hand.
Dick really thought his little brother was far too relaxed upon learning that Jason was one with the undead. Sure, they had all encountered various levels of zombies during their missions, from all sorts of oral traditions and cultures, alien viruses and hidden nanobots piloting meat puppets. It wasn't even classified as a nation-wide crisis to encounter free-roaming zombies. But since the chronically unalive individual in question was one of their own, Dick felt he was owed at least a whole evening of frazzled panic and incomprehension for once.
“Oh?” Stephanie instead asked, sensing blood.
Tim shrugged. “Well, you know, no pulse, no blood flow,” he said with an angled eyebrow nodding at Jason's crotch
Stunned silence followed, their expressions varying from disgust, horror, unholy glee and, from Jason himself, wide-eyed shock that his shrimp of a little brother had had the balls to assimilate the zombieness fast enough to mock him for him.
Dick prayed for patience. For fortitude. And for an alternate timeline where he was an only child.
Why, for all the love of cotton candy and professional uncriminal clowns, did Tim put THAT image of Jason inside their brains? What had he done, him, a loving model for all of society, to suffer like this?
Maybe if he asked nicely, Jason would eat the image out of his head. He owed Dick that much after this clusterfuck of a conversation.
“Ooooooooh,” Stephanie crooned, miming getting dunked on. With acrobatics.
Jason huffed. “Like I was ever interested in the first place. I ain't Dick.”
“Okay, no slut shaming or virgin shaming, in fact, no shaming at all, please. In this house, we accept all sexualities, but we don't give out raunchy details about any of it, I only have so much brain bleach.”
“Share?” Duke pleaded in a whisper.
Oh, I wish I could, you young innocent soul.
A few beeps turned their attention back to Barbara and the batcomputer. “Well, that's one long overdue update to Jason's files. Anyone else want to share their 'obvious' medical condition?”
“Excuse you, being dead is not a medical condition.”
“I will make you wish for the peace of the grave, Jason.”
Droplets dripped from nearby stalactites.
A few bats flew overhead.
Jason turned to them like nothing had been said.
“Right. That was fun. Best night of my month. Can't wait to tell the Outlaws.”
Dick resigned himself to a series of unflattering texts by the absolute dickheads that were his second family. He could already tell the messages would blow up his phone to the Moon. 'You didn't know your brother that came back from the dead is a zombie?!'
“Have mercy and wait tomorrow morning?”
That smile could have been great or terrible. “You're lucky I'm in a spectacularly good mood, Dick.”
He had lifted his leg over his bike's seat when Duke was struck by genuine worry.
“Wait. Does Bruce know?”
Jason barked out a laugh.
“Of course he does! God knows he's got some massive blind spots, but he's obsessive, paranoid and I find subcutaneous trackers on me every week. No way he didn't get the hint before now.”
But, as his gaze went over the rest of them, his good cheer dimmed, his grin slipping off his face as surely as a bit of decayed flesh.
“... Right?”
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animebookworm16 · 3 years
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Who Are You? - Angst
For @j3ssisam3ss
This is my angst piece for @maribat-angst-fluff-april, prompt 25 Childhood Friends
It was the middle of winter in Gotham when she showed up. A tiny girl everyone guessed to be about three. She never spoke or made a sound, but she often smiled, even on the coldest nights. The little girl would just curl up to whoever had taken her that day and smile. At first the other homeless believed she'd never make it to spring. But the little girl was full of surprises. Not only did she survive the worst of the winter, she thrived once spring arrived.
Everyone knew she had a name, no one knew what it was, but they knew she had one. They also knew she was old enough to know it. Surprisingly, no one ever tried to give her a new name. Sure she got nicknames. More nicknames than a toddler could ever hope to keep track of, but somehow she did.
The little girl grew. As all children must. And the older children and adults always made sure to enunciate whenever she was in the area, hoping to teach her how to speak. They all banded together, like they always do for the especially young kids, and kept her away from the worst of the drugs, gangs, rogues, and the overall darkest parts of Gotham.  She grew, and most people started calling her Pixie. Their little fairy caused laughter and mischief wherever she went. Even still she rarely spoke, her words as few and far between as they were, were always impactful to whoever she spoke to.
When Jason Todd started living on the street, everything changed. Pixie stuck to his side like glue. She laughed, she started talking, Pixie acted like the entire five years she had been living around Gotham she had been solely waiting for Jason to show up. The ones who raised her would have felt jilted if it hadn't been for how happy the little girl looked. Two years passed and the two ten-year-olds rarely left each other's sides.
Then Jason stole the hubcaps off the Batmobile and Pixie was finally picked up by CPS.
Pixie had to be strapped down by CPS so that she wouldn't hurt anyone. Luckily for her, a young French couple had been passing by when they saw what they were doing, and demanded to adopt the young girl. CPS didn't want to deal with the girl for much longer and agreed. When Tom and Sabine found out she didn't have a name, they quickly named her Marinette Dupain-Cheng and decided her birthday would be the same day they adopted her. 
The newly named Marinette was quickly taken out of Gotham and out of the country as the couple returned to Paris.
She never knew that Jason had been adopted by Bruce Wayne.
Jason was picked up by Batman and quickly adopted by Bruce Wayne. Before long he had taken up the mantle of Robin and was fighting crime.  He looked everywhere for his friend but no matter who or where he asked, no one had any idea. As the months passed, Jason lost hope for ever finding Pixie again.
He would never know that she had been picked up by CPS and adopted by a Parisian couple and taken back to Paris.
In Paris, Marinette always appeared happy, and her new parents were always busy but tried to make time for her. Marinette had taken to wandering Paris. She wanted to be familiar with her new city, even if Tom and Sabine didn't always agree with her new habit.
When she started school, Marinette stayed quiet. Friendly, but quiet. This made her a prime target for the mayor's spoiled daughter Chloe. Marinette allowed it to happen and did nothing to change the status quo. three years passed in this way until suddenly Marinette was seated next to an extremely outspoken girl named Alya, who would absolutely not stand for the status quo, so Marinette filled that space, doing what she'd always done since she'd come to Paris molded herself into what everyone around her wanted. The same day she met her new deskmate, and self-proclaimed bestie, Marinette also became one of the two heroes of Paris, fighting an emotional terrorist who thrived on negative emotions (and just being from Gotham made her a prime target). Marinette became Dame Nuit, with her partner Mister Bug.
She listened to everything Plagg told her, especially the warnings and consequences of using the Black Cat Miraculous.
For the next four years, Marinette would fill every mold she was placed in. The hero, the Guardian, the class president, the perfect baker's daughter, everything. 
Then the consequences started showing up. Marinette knew she had to wrap up Hawk Moth and Mayura quickly. She started pushing it so much that Mister Bug called her out one night and in a single moment of weakness she told him what was happening. What her Miraculous was doing to her.
Mister Bug immediately wanted her to stop and let him give the Miraculous to someone else, but Dame Nuit shut it down saying that even if she stopped now, the damage was done and nothing would change that. In fact, using the Miraculous, while it had started the process, was actually slowing it down. Mister Bug cried when she told him that.
Together they redoubled their efforts to bring Hawk Moth and Mayura down. Of course, Mister Bug insisted on bringing in more permanent heroes, under the guise of keeping one of the two things Hawk Moth was after out of the fight. Dame Nuit then argued that it should be the Ladybug because it's the one that can fix everything which just left them going in circles. But even still she conceded to his request for more backup.
Within six months, Gabriel Agreste and Nathalie Sancoeur had been stripped of their Miraculous and Paris was free to feel their emotions once more. All the Miraculous were returned and Marinette and Adrien revealed their identities to each other.
Adrien stuck to Marinette's side and became an unofficial brother. He helped her as the build-up of chaos in her soul took a physical manifestation, and began to destroy her 
A year after Hawk Moth's defeat Marinette's entire class was granted a trip to Gotham City.
Marinette would have laughed at the irony if she didn't know it would probably be the last place she saw. It was strangely comforting to know that the city that held her most precious memories would also be the place that would hold her last.
In Gotham, Jason grew into a young man. He discovered the woman he thought was his mother wasn't. He tracked down his real mother, then got beaten half to death by the Joker only to be blown up by one of Joker's bombs.
Jason died.
Then Jason was revived by the Lazarus Pits and trained by the League of Shadows. He grew to hate Batman and wanted nothing more than to see the end of the Joker. 
Years later, Jason would return to Gotham only to find he had been replaced and that the Joker was still running free, and alive. Jason tried to kill the new Robin, a kid named Tim Drake, Batman, and the Joker. He managed to end none of them.
Bruce convinced Jason to stick around and one thing led to another and Redhood became part of the Batfamily patrol rotation. He doesn't stay in the manor but he does drop in at least once a month for family dinners at Alfred's request. On the weekends, Jason would take Tim out and teach him how to spot a sniper, an assassin, what different guns look like when someone is trying to hide them, and most importantly, how to defuse a bomb. It becomes a bonding time for the two, but Jason still calls Tim 'Replacement' but now as a term of endearment.
He never forgets Pixie and she is one of the few things that kept him sane during the worst of the Pit Madness.
Then Damian shows up and Jason has no idea how to deal with the tiny Demon Spawn. It's rough going for a while but they all found their ways of bonding and before long they are one large dysfunctional family. 
When Jason turned eighteen, he, Dick, Tim, and Damian welcomed a French class to Wayne Industries for a week-long tour. And that is where he thought he saw someone he would never see again.
Without his permission, Jason called out to her, "Pixie?" It was barely a whisper, but she heard it.
Her head whipped around and she stared at him, "Jason?"
He wanted to say it was a happy reunion. And it kind of was. They hugged. Her class and his brothers stared. Then the tears started. Pixie was smiling but tears were streaming down her face.
One of the other students came over and asked her in French if she was okay. Pixie shook her head and the blond boy asked if there was somewhere she could rest. Jason offered to show them a room. The three of them sat in a quiet room as Pixie cried. She kept leaning into Jason and he wasn't about to stop her. After who knows how long, Pixie dried her eyes and haltingly told Jason what was going on. She told him, how she'd been adopted and went by Marinette now. How she was dying and no one besides Adrien, the blond, knew. How she probably wouldn't make it out of Gotham.
Jason's first reaction was to want to hurt something. His second was to hold Pixie as close as he could and never let her go. Jason cried. 
For the rest of the week everywhere that Pixie went, Jason was close behind. The other Waynes noticed and on the fourth day of their stay, invited Pixie and Adrien to join them for dinner.
There, a not-so-subtle interrogation went down, asking Pixie how she knew Jason. At which point, even Pixie's failing health allowed her to spill so many childhood stories about Jason that even they couldn't resist her knowledge. In return, Jason told Adrien stories he had collected about her as a toddler and little kid. It was the brightest smile Adrien had ever seen on Marinette, and the first real smile Pixie had given Jason all week. He could almost pretend that she wasn't dying.
After dinner Pixie said, "Jason, did I ever tell you about the dream I've had ever since I was a little girl?"
"What dream Pix?"
"I've always wanted to stand at the very top of the Wayne Industries building at dawn, and feel the wind at the top of the world."
"Really?"
Pixie smiled a soft sad smile, "Yeah. Do you think we could do that tomorrow?"
Jason suddenly realized what Pixie was talking about, and had to fight a lump in his throat to answer, "Yeah. Pix. Yeah, we can do that."
Adrien and Pixie stayed the night that night. That morning at about three, Jason woke them up and took them to the top of Wayne Industries. Pixie stood as high up as she possibly could. Adrien and Jason watched her with tears in their eyes. Before long, they were joined by Batman, Nightwing, Red Robin, and Robin, who all wanted to make sure she wouldn't fall. Jason didn't have the heart to tell them they couldn't stop what was about to happen.
As dawn started to creep up on them, Adrien broke down sobbing, begging Marinette to fight a little longer. When the light hit her head, Marinette closed her eyes and smiled. They all saw her start to fade.
Her hands went first. Like dust. As the light increased so did her fading. Before she faded completely, Pixie walked towards them a peaceful smile on her face. Jason was crying now too. His Pixie looked like a ghost.
And as she faded completely, everyone on that roof heard her say, "My name is Jeanette. It's so nice to meet you!"
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artxyra · 4 years
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Her Little Robins
Note: So This was supposed to be a longer (damn near 8000 words) one-shot, but after much thought, I decided to break up the mini-stories that I had placed at the end and decided to upload them separately. 
There is one person that Damian would even dare look up to and he hasn’t seen her since before his mother brought him overseas to his father. She was the closest thing he had gotten to a mother figure despite being the opposite. Within the League of Assassins, she was on par with his own mother, but she was just as untouchable. She barely had any free time, between taking on League missions and living her life in the outside world. No one knows how she even became involved with the League but there was one thing he knew for sure. It wasn’t long after his conception.
For the past year, he has been under the care of his father, the very person he doesn’t belong to. Even after a year, his father still doesn’t understand him. He shows his love differently. He doesn’t belong in this broken household. Damian wasn’t sure how he even managed with all the fighting. Though there is one thing he would never admit—is that he cares. Caring was one of many hidden traits he had picked up from her.
His father doesn’t know how to care for him, but at least he tries to. Which is more than he can say about his mother. She never cared, in fact, the only time she cared was placing him into her arms. The fresh smell of apple blossoms always calming him down. That scent was more home than anything he has ever been to.
The last time he saw her—was the first time he had ever cried. Her arms wrapped tightly around him as she tells him her goodbyes. Making promises that he knows would never be kept. She was leaving to save both of them—to save him. Damian could never admit it to himself, but the night she left was the night his grandfather had declared that Damian was of age to determine his loyalty. A trial that would surely end in his or her death.
He hated going to sleep that night. The cold welcoming his return. There was no apple blossom scent laying beside him. No hand caressing his hair as he fell asleep. No French lullaby that was specifically made for him being sung. Just the harsh winds.
“Be brave my petit oiseau. Luck will always guide you in your journey.” She whispers to him every night as he loses consciousness. Those words would forever stick with him. Just like his father’s statement “Justice not vengeance” would. Though he would prefer the one from her over any others.
It’s been three years since then.
Today he wasn’t sure what to do, the anniversary of her disappearance was approaching, and his father’s family still didn’t understand why he is crankier—or what they would say brattier—during this time. He just wants to be alone.
“My, my, petit oiseau, someone sure missed moi.” It was the way she always greeted him when he was little, and they were alone. Damian’s little legs would wrap around her own as she bends down to scoop him into her arms. When he was younger, he felt freer being around her. Her laughter was contagious. She would extend her pointer finger against his nose and giggles before blowing raspberries into his cheek which then caused him to laugh.
Instinctively, Damian curls into himself. He misses those feelings. Feelings that he’ll never get from his family at this rate.
So deep in his memories, Damian doesn’t remember entering the library, picking up a book, and finding comfort in the couch. He looks at the book that was opened in front of him. It was written in French. He has been in this room plenty of times and has skimmed every book at least once, so why does this book seem like a distance memory? The title was so familiar, but he couldn’t place it.
Behind him, he hears a gasp, “Little D, do you have any idea what that is?” Great, it was Grayson, the fourth person he didn’t want to see this evening.
“A book.” The youngest Wayne deadpans placing the book down on the couch and getting up to take his leave.
Before he could walk out of the door, he heard Grayson shout something, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care enough to listen.
As he walks back to his room, that French book stayed on his mind. The cover’s art style was unique, and it reminded him of her. She would draw him small artwork pieces and sometimes let him join her in the process, in fact, he still has the majority of the drawings that she and he made locked in a box underneath his bed. Then there was the book’s dedication page: “À tous mes petits oiseaux qui ont besoin de chance dans leurs moments les plus sombres.” That he could easily translate to: “To all my little birds who need luck in their darkest moments.” He needs to know more. Maybe that book holds the missing piece in finding her? He wants her back in his life, now more than ever.
However, that doesn’t explain how his father owns such a book. Let alone the reaction he had gotten out of Grayson just by holding the book.
~*~
“Hold on, you’re telling me that the demon reincarnated found Pixie’s book?” He heard Todd asks when he was on his way to the library. It was clear that Grayson had grabbed the book once he had left and gathered the rest of his non-blood-related siblings.
“Yes, that is exactly what I’m telling you. When I had entered the room to tell him that we are expecting a guest soon—which I couldn’t—he appeared to be in deep thought staring at the book. Like that isn’t usual at all.” Grayson explains and out of everything his older brother said, the word guest caught his attention. It was rare when his father invited people to the manor that has nothing to do with charity, galas, or potential business agreements. A guest usually signifies a Justice League member or a new sibling (something that he knows doesn’t need to happen).
“Isn’t this usually the time when the demon gets all moody?” When did Drake even pay attention to him? Of course, he is always moody, and he has good reasons for that.
“You actually pay attention to the little shit, Replacement? This is laughable, you’re usually the last one to notice anything.” Todd laughs to which Damian had the itching need to grab his katana and slice Jason in half. Though he had to agree, it was laughable as it was Drake who noticed it despite being in a coffee-induced haze for most of the time.
“Yeah, yeah,” Drake then pauses, probably to take a sip of coffee that will forever be in his hands. “That doesn’t explain how he would find Bean’s book interesting. Only those of us that have met her would find that book interesting as it’s—”
“We know!” Together Grayson and Todd scream.
“Look guys we can either keep hovering over the fact that Damian found her book or let it play out and see where it goes, just like Bruce and Alfred did for us.” Drake sounded tired which wasn’t usual but more tired than normal at this time of day.
“As much as I hate it, I agree with Replacement for this,” Todd responds without a doubt looking at Grayson when he said it.
Damian could hear Grayson sigh of defeat. The room goes silent just enough for Damian to make his presence known.
“What’s so important about the book?” He asks stepping across the threshold and eyeing the book that is in Grayson’s hand.
At once his brothers try to answer but one look at Damian’s face; they knew they could lie themselves out of it.  So, they opted for the oldest to speak.
“Look, Little D, this book means a lot to the family. The fact that you picked up just gave an insight into something we didn’t think you would have.” Grayson starts to which Damian tsks and looks away. He hated having this much attention on him, and the short explanation still didn’t answer his question.
“Then what makes this book so important to the family, that I had no idea of its existence until today?” Damian growls through his teeth. His brothers only look between one another which only made Damian even more agitated. “You know what, never mind.”
“Damian—” Dick is cut off by the door slamming in his face. He could only sigh in defeat as the figure of his younger brother disappears.
“So, what now?” Tim asks before taking another sip of his coffee. It was clear that his older brothers don’t know what to do.
Jason decides that now is the best time to take the book from Dick and throws himself onto the couch. He begins to read the book as if it was his only source of peace.
~*~
For Jason, the book was the only close connection he had to her. She was the mother he always dreamed of, and he hated it when she would leave for long periods of time. He hated not taking her offer to live with her. Months before his death, she had asked him to live with her, be the caretaker of her apartment back in France, but he had declined. Being Robin was all he ever wanted, and she knew that, but he also knows that something spooked her. She never did ask that again after the first time, and it kind of saddens Jason a bit.
The night before his death, she had called him asking for him to stay safe. To not get cocky about anything while being away. Stay in contact with Bruce, in fact, she specifically told him not to leave Bruce’s side. He should have listened to her warnings that night. Just maybe he wouldn’t have died by the hands of the Joker.
When he was revived with the Lazarus Pit, one of the first things he acknowledged was the words “Qu'est-ce qui vous est arrivé mon petit Jaybird?” What happened to him? He didn’t know what was happening. He was feeling so many negative emotions at once that he couldn’t differentiate anything. The last thing he remembered from that encounter was a pair of lips pressing against his forehead. The next thing he knew, he was lost somewhere he didn’t know but he somehow knew he had to find himself.
When he came back to Gotham under the impression that Bruce and everyone around him needed to go, it wasn’t Bruce that stopped him. No, it was her. She appeared between them with tears streaming down from her mask. He couldn’t harm her, not after everything she had done for him. It felt so wrong to have his fingers itching to pull the trigger, but he couldn’t let it go. Bruce needed to pay for giving up on, for replacing him.
They didn’t even exchange words, her tears were enough. She walked over to him, taking the gun away from him and gently placing it on the ground. He felt so alone as she pulled him into her arms whispering the French lullaby, she sang to him when he was down.
Jason doesn’t remember what happened next after that, but what he does know was that he had woken up in the manor and Bruce and sitting in an armchair beside his bed. They didn’t speak to one another—why it was because they didn’t know what to start with. Hellos? No, they already knew each other. I’m sorry? Not even an option, they’re too stubborn to admit anything. It was just a moment of silence. Not for the dead but for all the pain that they were enduring.
As he read the familiar words, Jason wonders how his life would have been having she not been a part of his life. She always knew what to say and when to say it. Never judging them for wanting to be heroes vigilantes. She was the glue that kept this family together aside from Alfred, and they all miss her.
“Hey Jaybird,” Of course it was Dick who had to return and ruin the moment.
“What do you want? Can’t you see that I’m reading?” Jason doesn’t take his eyes away from the book, it’s not like he could have anyway. Her words always had a way of entrapping the reader until the very end.
“Bruce wants everyone in the living room.” Dick answers pointing to the open door that was close just minutes ago. Jason huffs and places the book back on the shelf.
“Alright, let see what B has in store for us.” Jason walks past Dick and into the halls. Dick just stares back at the location Jason had placed the book. He was tempted to go grab it, but he knows, keeping Bruce waiting sounds like a bad idea especially since he asked for the family.
~*~
In the living room, Damian sat moodily in the armchair. Arms folded and all. He would look up to glare at his family members still thinking that they were all beneath him in taking the Wayne name.
“So, tell us, Bruce, what is the real reason you have us all gather here?” Jason observed the way the room was structured. Alfred was standing next to Bruce like usual while everyone else just sits and waits for the other shoe to drop.
“It has come to my attention that Damian found M’s book.” Bruce turns to his youngest, who was clearly lost in thought. Something he never thought would happen to Damian. Then again this isn’t the first time it has happened. “Damian, have you ever meet a person under the name of Marin Etta? Marin? Mari?” With each name, Damian shakes his head.
For Damian, the names were foreign. She was always Tatie to him as she never really spoke of her real name. It was mention once, but it has been so long that he had forgotten. In fact, tatie was the first word she taught him in French before moving onto the basics.
“No father,” Damian denies and leans back into his seat. Bruce sighs.
“Little D, you must have met her.” Dick states pointing fingers.
“Before this becomes a brawl, I would like to announce that she’ll be sending gifts to the manor,” Alfred states causing the boys, aside from Damian, eyes to bug out. Tim had to rub his eyes to make sure that he was awake.
~*~
For Tim, she was more than someone he looks up to. She was a person that he could rely on and rant to. When he first arrived at the manor, yes, he was excited, but at the same time frightened beyond disbelief. She picked up on this and offer to take him to her favorite little coffee shop. To this day, Tim swears she owns the little cozy coffee shop that they always go to when they needed a break. Those visits were always just the two of them and no one else.
Tim remembers when he took up the Robin mantle, she was furious at Bruce and even yelled at him for bringing into the battle when he was just a child. He is sure that when the Joker first captured him it was her that found him and took out the Joker, not Bruce. The only proof that he had from that encounter was Bruce looking like he was chewed out by his mother once he had recovered.
She was more than just a team member—she was family. The person that introduced him to the secret of making the right coffee. Something that everyone around him would look down upon. To Tim, coffee was more than his life source; it was a reminder of everything she ever did for him. It was one of the few connections he had to her and he doesn’t want to lose that.
So just being told that she is sending them gifts was such a surprise. She never just sends random gifts; her gifts were always well thought out. Planned for the person receiving the item. Tim had once received a coffee recipe book, something that he vows never to use unless she is with him. He couldn’t risk is family taking away another source of coffee for him.
Sure, they could go visit her whenever, but she never sticks around in one place. Tim remembers the time he tried to track her down and he came up with dead ends after dead ends. Not even Bruce could find her and he’s the world’s greatest detective.
~*~
“When do they arrive?” Dick had practically shouted earning Tim’s attention, something that is usually locked on coffee and or paperwork.
Alfred raises an eyebrow and shakes his head. Tim knows the family butler already knows the answer. It most likely that the gifts had already arrived, and he just wants to see them suffer over it.
“Master Damian please come with me.” Alfred requested to which everyone eyes the youngest Wayne. Damian was unsure what Pennyworth wanted with him and the fact that it was him and not his father, he was feeling anxious.
“Of course,” Damian answers getting out of his seat.
Dick watches the baby bird walk away from the family. He wasn’t sure what to expect from this encounter. Alfred rarely asks for them individually. Though he was heavily thinking about the presents his big sister figure may have brought him.
“Don’t even think about it, Dick.” Bruce grunts seeing the devious look in his oldest eyes. Dick blanches and turns around; he had some searching hacking to do. Knowing that Alfred would have hidden the items somewhere within the manor, he knew just where to start his journey. Years of being a part of the Wayne household has its perks, especially being trained by her to find all the hidden spots.
She was only a couple of years older than him. It never made sense to call her his aunt when they were so close in age. She was also the first person that Dick confided in after his parents’ deaths. She was with Bruce when he went that show, and she was first to comfort him even before the cops could take his statement. To traumatize by what he just saw, he didn’t comprehend the lullaby she was singing in French to soothe him.
Dick would never forget how she took it a part of herself to make sure that the manor felt like a home. Bruce was gone every night tracking down Zucco. She made sure he didn’t feel alone, uncared for. If it wasn’t for her, Dick doesn’t know what would have happened to him.
“Les étoiles sont brillantes ce soir, Dickie.” The stars are bright tonight, she had once said to him the night he was thinking about running away. He had everything packed and all he needed to do was open that window and jump out. Her voice caught him by surprise, so much that he had almost forgotten what he wanted to do.
In the end, he cried his heart out to her and she let him do it. He doesn’t remember what happened next, but the next day Bruce actually showed up for breakfast and sat down with them. It wasn’t long after that that he would become Robin.
~*~
Damian didn’t know why Alfred was leading him outside the manor. It’s not like he had forgotten to take care of Alfred the cat and Titus. Alfred stops short of the gazebo that is rarely in use unless someone plans on making a romantic dinner date of some kind. Damian was about to ask Alfred why they are here when a familiar feminine voice speaks. This voice was etched into his brain and before he knew it his arms were wrapped around a person’s torso.
“My, my, petit oiseau, someone sure missed moi.” He didn’t want to look up, too afraid for this to be a dream. Damian didn’t care if his cheeks were becoming wet, he just wanted to hold her tight. Never letting go. “Petit oiseau, oh how you have grown.” She speaks again, her hands caressing his hair to which he doesn’t complain.
“Tatie, tu me manques tellement.” Damian cries out hiding his face into her shirt. Moments later, he looks up to be greeted by the bluebell eyes that he loved so much. He never realized how much her eye color reminds him so much of Bruce’s. Though her eye color holds so much love and emotions, more than what he can say for Bruce’s.
“Petit oiseau, I am here now. How are you? Have you been treating your father well? Oh, Dami, I knew I should have taken you with me.” She says as she walks them over to the bench and sits down. She could see that Alfred was standing off to the side smiling at the duo.
Alfred then mouths, “I’ll leave you two be” to her, to which she nods and turns her attention back to Damian.
~*~
Returning the manor, Alfred was greeted by an excited Dick and Jason. He knew what they wanted; they wanted the gifts, but the gift is currently outside hugging her surrogate son.
“Master Richard and Master Jason, is there something you need?” He asks with an eyebrow raised. Alfred was known for a lot of things—he is required too in order to keep the manor afloat.
“Hey, Alfred, where is Little D, and how soon we will be receiving those gifts?” Dick asks as he and Jason share a forced smile. Alfred wasn’t buying it.
“Moments after the young master is done receiving his own.” With that, Alfred walks off with a smirk plastered on his lips.
All the Wayne men in the room look at one another.
“Hold on, did he just say that the Demon Spawn, is receiving his gift right now…what the flying fuck did he get?” Jason screams out and he would have stalk after Alfred if it wasn’t for Bruce’s glare practically telling his son not to do it, so instead, Jason huffs.
“It can’t be anything good if it’s for the demon,” Tim states finally coming alive from his coffee-induce haze. The teen was unsure of what was happening, but he knows it was a tense situation.
“We’ll wait for Damian to come to us.” Bruce says, “If the gift is dangerous, we’ll take matters into our own hands.” That was enough to prevent his sons from going after their younger brother.
~*~
Damian was having the time of his life being close to his tatie. He spoke to her with so much enthusiasm about his pets, mentioning his dreams in opening up an animal shelter, all the pranks he did on his brothers. Damian even showed her pictures of Titus and Alfred the cat was which is something he rarely does; heck, he doesn’t really show pictures of his animals to Jon, his best friend.
“That is wonderful, Damian.” She spoke with such a light laugh.
“Hold on, Tatie, how did you know that I was here?” Realization finally settles as Damian wraps his head around the fact that she knew where he was. They haven’t seen each other in three years and surely, she didn’t find his mother and demanded answers.
She sighs and allows Damian to sit up from his resting position. “Damian, I knew you were Bruce’s child since before you were born. There is a reason why I love that you call me Tatie because I am your aunt. Bruce is my older brother. My real name is Marin Etta Wayne, but most people call me Marinette.” She explains staring into his forest green eyes. Tears swell in her eyes almost like she was afraid to tell him everything.
Damian didn’t know how to react. Happy? Furious? Confused? He was so conflicted that he was rendered speechless. This person has been in his life since birth, has done more for him than his own parents, was actually his biological aunt.
Instead of reacting out of anger, he wraps his arms around her and mumbles a series of thank you in various languages. Her explanation solidifies the fact that she’ll never leave him.
“Je t'aime, mon petit oiseau.” She whispers to him.
They stay in silence until Alfred makes himself known with a loud cough. Damian had fallen asleep in her arms to which she was happily content with holding him. She looks up and gestures for Alfred to come closer.
“It seems that the young master enjoyed his gift,” Alfred states looking at the sleeping eleven-year-old. Marinette moves to scoop Damian into her arms. He was a lot heavier than when he was six. After getting into a comfortable position, she turns to Alfred.
“Has Brucie done this for him, before?” She asks as they begin to walk back to the manor.
“On occasion, usually when he is late coming in as Robin. Though it is nice to have you around again, Marin Etta, your presence always begin joy to the family.” Alfred answers, “Are you staying for the night?”
“Not tonight, Alfie. I’m sure the boys will go crazy over Damian’s gift until they see what it actually is. I’ll give them a shock tomorrow and stay for the rest of the week. Vic is helping Helena with some things, so I got time to spare for once.” She replies explaining her reasoning.
Alfred simply raises an eyebrow, he knows she’s withholding information from him, but he also knows that she will do anything to keep her problems under wraps. That’s the reason why she never told Bruce she was Ladybug until after the defeat of Hawkmoth and the creation of her vigilante persona, Kismet.
“In that case, I’ll take the young master and put him to bed. I will see you in the morning.” Marinette hands him Damian who didn’t want to leave her. He managed to tighten his grip around her despite never once waking up. Only after did she whisper promises of seeing him the next day did he release his hold on her and latch onto Alfred.
When Alfred walked inside with the sleeping Damian, he was bombarded by those he considers grandchildren. Jason was beyond in disbelief to see a koala version of the demon that usually glares at them. Tim thought he was hallucinating to the point where he pours the remains of his coffee out the window and walked away sluggishly. Dick was cooing and taking pictures, more than likely saving them for blackmail material. Bruce was wondering what put his youngest to sleep before even going on patrol. He knows that Alfred knows but getting information out of the butler is an impossible task.
“I guess Robin will not be joining us tonight?”
“That is correct, sir. The young master had tired himself out with his gift today. Shall I put him to bed or would like to do that honor?” Alfred answers readjusting the pre-teen in his arms. Bruce nods and takes Damian away from Alfred. It was moments like these that he misses. When his sister was younger, he would hold her and just holding her made him feel complete. Holding Damian was similar in feeling considering his height and weight.
~*~
Dick, Jason, and Tim were jealous of Damian. He had received his gift the day before and here they were sitting at the dining room table waiting for Alfred to show up. Damian had this smug look on his face the second his brothers bombarded him with questions regarding his present. He doesn’t give any indication that it was a person but an animal. That got his brothers to leave him alone for a moment.
Bruce had been the last person to enter the room. He was working on Wayne Enterprise paperwork that should have been completed earlier but wasn’t. Alfred walks in with a tray of food. As he set the plates down, they immediately took notice of an extra plate. Before either of them could question the butler, they heard someone say, “Bonjour mes amours!”
Before anyone could react, Damian runs out of his chair and into her arms. He wraps his arms around her and glares at his family members, daring them to come at her.
“My, my, petit oiseau, someone sure missed moi.” She chuckles returning the hug to the younger male. Damian doesn’t say anything, he just stays in her arms.
While the family stares in shock of seeing Damian showing emotions, it was also the shock at the arrival of the one person that hoped to show up soon.
“Mari!” A series of excited shouts echo through the room. Jason was the next person out of his seat and trying to push Damian away for space. Damian fought back, nearly biting Jason’s hand just so he could stay in his tatie’s arms. Jason glares his younger brother.
“Oh c’mon, there’s enough of me to go around.” She chuckles sending Jason a sheepish smile, “Dami, can you let go so that I could hug Jay-Jay and the others?” She looks down at the young boy, only to feel that his grip had tightened around her. She knows that he would not let go. “Dami, I promise to make you some of my infamous shortbread cookies.” At that request, Damian reluctantly lessens his grip.
“You imbeciles only have one minute with her,” Damian growls turning to his family acknowledging the fact that they also know his tatie. “59, 58, 57…” He starts to count down.
The older Wayne children knew he was serious, and they immediately jump to hug Marinette. Dick was smothering her having taken onto wrapping himself around her torso. She manages to stay afloat by resting Jason and Tim who were side hugging her. It surprised her that it wasn’t Jason who had the running start but wasn’t shock that it was Dick instead.
“10, 9, 8…” They all heard Damian continue. The moment the young Wayne managed to get to zero, he let out a battle cry and begins pushing his brothers out of his way. Damian latches himself onto her and glares at anyone that came within a certain radius of her.
“How the hell does the demon know Pixie, when he literally had no clue who she was yesterday,” Jason shouts as the excitement of seeing Marinette dies down among everyone.
Marinette chuckles and scoops Damian into her arms. If it was anyone else, Damian would have squirmed, complained, and demanded to be let down, but this is his tatie and he has little care for what his brothers think of him right at this moment.
“That’s because all Dami has ever known me to be was Tatie.” She explains as Damian grumbles into her neck.
“Wha!” The boys yell stimulatingly to which Marinette looks everywhere but at her nephews.
“How about this, let's finish eating the wonderful breakfast Alfred made first, then I will explain it all afterward.” She suggests walking over to the table as everyone behind her follows. They know to not disagree with her. She has just as much power as Alfred and could most likely get away with murder.
While they ate breakfast, there was growing tension. Everyone, aside from Alfred, Marinette, and Damian, wanted answers. Bruce watches his sister eat her portion of breakfast; he knows something was going on. Then he saw how quickly his youngest reacted to her like there was some form of bond that they share that he didn’t with his own son. Bruce isn’t that dense; he knows that without her his life would be filled with so much darkness and pain. She made everything tolerable, kept the family together even in their darkest of days.
When breakfast ended, they all gather in the living room. Titus trotted over to his owner and lay beside him.
“So, who’s first?” She asks as she pets Titus’s head as he was close to her and he let her.
“Back to my question before, how the hell do you know the demon?” Jason practically shouts pulling his ear.
“I’ve practically known about since his birth. Actually… even before he was even born. I knew Talia was up to something when she was constantly trying to get into Bruce’s good graces. As we all know, my ability to sense something is wrong is almost never incorrect. So, I followed her to the League of Assassin under a new identity. I was about to leave, but then she announces that she was carrying the league’s heir. I knew the child was going to Bruce’s.” She turns to Damian with a sad smile on her face. To this day, she hated the way Damian came into this world, but she would never give him up for anything.
“You side missions?” Bruce wonders aloud.
“Yes, when I wasn’t with the miraculous court or with the JL, I was with Damian watching after him. I became his caretaker when Talia took it upon herself to be his mentor rather than a mother. Did you know I was the first person to hold him? He had such a small tuft of hair.” Damian blanches when she started to gush about his childhood. He likes to keep that under wraps, but he wasn’t going to complain.
“Are you back for real…now?” It was Tim that has asked that.
“Oh, my petit oiseau de café, I’m here to stay. I can’t have you running Gotham without me.” Marinette answers with a wink, but she can tell by the looks of deadpan facials from the males she knew that they didn’t buy it. “I’m staying until the court needs me. That and I’m sure Kismet can bring a little luck to this city of darkness.”
“With that answer…welcome home, Sunshine!” Dick screams with excitement before flinging himself to his sister figure. Marinette catches the taller bird and laughs. However, the embrace didn’t last long as Damian pushes Dick off of her and takes over the filled space.
“Oi, she’s mine, you dolts, get your own.” Damian hiss at his brother who looked beyond offensive.
“Oh, hold on!” They all shouted, “We knew her first, you little demon.” This quickly became a tug-of-war for Marinette, who looks sheepishly between the boys, but she couldn’t help but laugh.
The second, Marinette was able to slip away from his nephews, she made her way over to Bruce. They didn’t say anything, though Bruce did hold his arms out waiting that that hug that they always do. Their embrace was not a short one.
“I miss you, Bruce.” She mumbles into his shirt.
“I miss you too, M.” Bruce pauses placing a kiss onto her forehead. “So, tell me about what happened in Brazil?” Marinette’s eyes widen at that request. She knew she had to come up with something fast, but she also knows that her big brother wouldn’t let that go. Brazil was an authorized JL mission that she joined Question and Huntress on, that didn’t end well per se.
“Oh, look the boys are about to break something.” She squeals turning their attention to the four brothers still wrestling on the floor. Sure enough, a loud crash is heard.
Bruce groans and wanted to yell at his sons for being too rough, but this was a typical morning. The boys would rough house at least three times a day before they all separated. Then again, it really depends on whether Jason and Dick decide to stay at the manor for long periods of time.
“Boys!” Marinette shrieks getting their attention to which they had the audacity to pretend that nothing had happened. They don’t want to play that game with her. There is a reason why she rules the manors better than Bruce.
“Yes, Tatie,” Damian speaks up first resisting the urge to run over to her and hug her in an attempt to make his brothers jealous. Who was he kidding, he would totally do that anyway just for the hell of it.  
His brothers glance at him; however, it was clear that Jason was glaring more so than anything.
“What?” Damian shrugs, “She clearly wanted our attention, isn’t that right, tatie?”
Marinette sends Damian a smile that the family knows all too well, that smile was not her usual friendly ones, it was sinister. “Oh, petit oiseau, you have no idea. Now, it still early in the morning, and I don’t want to spend my first day with the family babysitting you four, or do I need to call the girls have girls’ day with them instead?”
The looming threat of having the girls spend time with Marinette instead of them was enough for everyone to nod in agreeance.
“Now who wants to be the first to read my newest family book?” Bruce silently raises his hand which she sees out of the corner of her eye. Digging into her purse she pulls out a new book with an enchanting cover with the title written in French. She then hands it to Bruce despite the cries of protest from her nephews.
“I saw his hand first, actually I saw Alfred’s first, but he already read it. Didn’t you, Alfie?”
“Of course, I did, Miss Marin Etta, it was another novel that will go into the family history.” He smiles at her, to which Marinette sends him a blushful smile.
“Thank you, Alfie. Now, who’s up for a family drawing session?” This time the boys gather around her. Damian hisses at his brothers daring them to come any closer as practical koala himself into Marinette’s arms. Jason stares at the little traitor, planning his downfall.
“I should have introduced Damian to her when he first arrived. That would have saved us so many headaches.” Bruce groans happily acknowledging the sudden change in his youngest at the sight of his sister.
“That would correct, sir. Shall I prepare you some tea and scones while you read Marin Etta’s book?”
“Yes, thank you, Alfred.” Bruce pauses for a moment to open the book, he is immediately greeted with the dedication page, a smile appears on his face, “Actually Alfred, how about you go spend time with M and the boys after you’re done.”
“Are you sure, sir?”
“Yes, I’m sure. I know you miss her just as much as the rest of us.”   
Bruce turns his attention back to the dedication pages that read, “Une famille qui se bat ensemble reste ensemble même quand tout semble perdu.” A family that fights together stays together even when everything seems lost.
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bat-losers-inc · 5 years
Text
Tether
Warning: language, mind control, and dubious consent.
Pairing: Jason Todd/Tim Drake, Tim Drake/Ra’s al Ghul, Jason Todd/Tim Drake/Ra’s al Ghul (implied).
Summary: For her love of Bruce, Talia took a risk when restoring Jason to his former self by secretly submerging him in the lazarus pit that her father currently occupied. With her help, Jason Todd escapes the House of Al Ghul with his mind and body restored to health but no one could have foreseen the rippling consequences that such an action would have. Now years later, Ra’s discovers the tether that connects his mind and body with Jason’s and uses it to his own advantages to gain power over his would-be successor, Tim Drake.
They’re stretched out on the bed reuniting after one of Jason’s long international missions with the Outsiders when it happens, and Tim thinks, not for the first time, that it’s almost like he knew they were together.
Like they’d stirred the beast.
Tim bent over Jason and worked his teeth down the long tanned expanse of his neck; arched back and offering up the unkempt territory of his five o’clock shadow for defilement. Jason gasped, squirmed, and twisted his fingers into the corners of the pillow case under his head. Tim took in the sight from his position straddling Jason’s sharp hip bones as he pulled his own shirt up and over his head, tossing it carelessly onto the floor.
Jason yanked Tim down by the back of his neck and pulled him flush against him so they were laid out chest to chest; feeling the heat coming off each other’s bodies and the skimming tickle of hair and raised scars against nipples as their chests moved in synchronization with each shared breath.
“I’ve missed you,” Jason murmured against Tim’s lips, barely sparing enough breath and distance to get the words past his kisses.
“Really?” Tim smiled. “Show me how much.”
He found himself on his back with Jason’s strong form pressing his legs up into his chest. There was barely enough time to hook his ankles together around Jason’s back before he entered him.
No time to adjust—  No pretense of foreplay— Just Jason thrusting once, twice, three times with such uncontrolled power that Tim threw out a hand against the headboard to brace himself. He could feel the spot where Jason’s hips snapped like a switch against him, already feeling the ache in his backside— his thoughts on bruises and the soreness he’d feel a few hours from now.
There was a thrill in the urgency of it, but no physical pleasure. Jason could be rough at times but never without a care, no, in fact he was almost proud of the way he could toe the line between pain and pleasure.
“Say my name.”
“Jason—” Tim gasped between the thrusts that felt as if they were punching the breath from his lungs. “Wait, please—”
Jason’s hand shot out and jerked Tim’s chin around to look him in the face. His eyes flashed with a wild glint that Tim recognized and the fear that rose in him felt as if it might reach into his chest and stop his heart in its inhuman grasp. “Say my name.”
Tim’s hand struck out and slapped Jason hard across the face, whipping his head to the side. He lay there on the bed, panic stricken, as he watched Jason turn back to face him.
Jason chuckled down at him, stilled for a moment with a look of alarm, and then dropped face first into the mattress. Tim couldn’t breathe again as Jason’s full weight fell on top of him — like a marionette with its strings cut—  his face wedging into the crook of Tim’s neck. Tim starred at the ceiling above his head, feeling Jason go soft inside him.
Finally he found air to breathe and gave a sigh of relief.
Jason’s breath fanned hot against Tim’s neck at he released a shuddering exhale before unceremoniously pulling out and rolling off Tim to face towards the far wall. Tim laid still for moment before pulling the covers up over his naked body.
His throat worked laboriously before he could finally swallow enough to get the words out. “Are you okay?”
Jason laughed, full of dark humor. “Peachy. You know, except for the part where I keep getting telepathically cockblocked by Ra’s al Ghul who wants to hijack my body so he can use it to hate fuck you into the next century.”
Laughter bubbled up out of Tim all at once and he slapped a hand over his mouth before it had a chance to become hysterical. He blinked the wetness out of his eyes until the ceiling stopped swimming above him. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I—”
“Did I hurt you?” Jason cut across him.
Tim paused, and slowly let his hands drop back down to his sides. “Don’t you mean, did he hurt me?”
“No,” said Jason. “He might have control of my body, but I’m still there. I might be shoved to the back of my mind but I see what he does to you with my hands, my dick, my teeth...”
Jason scrubbed roughly at his face.
“You fought back against him and broke free quickly this time.”
“Did I hurt you, Tim?” Jason’s voice was more forceful this time. Tim knew better than to avoid answering him.
“They’re just bruises, Jason. They’re heal.”
Jason sat up in bed, pulled his knees up to his chest and let his hands lingering shakily over his temples. He breathed hard with a panicked gasp and screwed his eyes tightly shut. “I can feel him… lurking around in the back of my head, just out of my mental awareness.”
Tim shifted over on the bed and rubbed soothing patterns in one of Jason’s shoulders. “I can reach out to Zatanna again—”
Jason shook his hand off violently. “We’ve tried all of her spells and potions and charms—”
He ripped off the most recent of them, a bracelet written in a language Tim couldn’t begin to fathom, and chucked it across the room where it struck the wall and dropped like a rock.
“ — none of them work because this isn’t a demonic possession or martian telepathy. It’s the lazarus pit— the water that restitched my organs, knitted my skin back over the wounds, and filled the blood in my veins did the same to him that night. We’re linked in a way that no other two on earth are linked. It’s in the blood. I doubt Zatanna knows any more about it than Ra’s and I do.”
“Jason… tell me what I can do.”
Jason threw his feet over the end of the bed and picked up his discarded shirt. He pulled it back over his head and sat silently for a moment, just staring out the bedroom window.
“I think you should spend the night at the manor.”
“What?”
Jason half-turned towards him, his rough face in profile. “It’s not safe for you here. If he got past me once… there’s no telling if he’ll try again and push harder this time.”
It was hard to argue with that logic so Tim made his way around the room and pulled his clothing back on, article by article. He stopped in front of Jason and retrieved his abandoned shirt off the floor between his spread feet. It wrinkled in his hands, his fingers clenching and unclenching it as he stood there, glued to the spot, trying to think of words to say to change the outcome of this night. He couldn’t believe that Jason had been away from him for so long and even when he was back, Tim still wasn’t allowed to be with him but instead found himself kicked out of his own apartment.
And for his safety.
That was the worst part of it all… Jason was supposed to be safe and yet he wasn’t… couldn’t be, because it wasn’t just Jason that Tim slept with. It was Ra’s too.
Tim pulled on his shirt and finally his shoes, and together he and Jason made their disgraceful retreat towards the door, both too ashamed to meet each other’s eyes with the reality of the situation staring back at them.
Tim left the apartment by the stairs, but he didn’t go to the manor like Jason had suggested. Instead, Tim headed across town to the Hotel Belle Monico.
He was sick of this situation… sick to death of Jason’s wary touches, the enforced distances, the guilty looks that Jason threw at him. Tim did not like having a boyfriend he had to share with another anymore that Jason did.  The way Tim figured it… if Ra’s was going to fuck him, Tim would much rather know when it was happening and do it on his own terms. And as messed up as it all might seem, just maybe sleeping with Ra’s would satisfy the older man enough to stop him from using the tether to take over Jason’s body. Maybe, Tim could have Jason back.
Tim was led up to the room the second he walked through the hotel doors. The penthouse door opened and Ra’s leaned casually against its frame.
“Hello again, Ra’s.”
Ra’s smiled a slow and satisfying smile. “I was wondering when you’d finally show up.”
“Aren’t you going to invite me in for a drink?”
Ra’s opened the door wider for Tim to step through and in a silent apartment across town for one night, in as long as Jason could remember, he couldn’t feel Ra’s al Ghul pressed at the back of his mind. For a night, he was free.  
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kneesheee · 5 years
Text
Little Devil
Warnings: vague mentions of child abuse| talks of death| talks of pregnancy| politics| vague mentions of sickness| other warnings to be added
|seven|
Batman was compromised. He could feel the emotions of Bruce seeping into him and he didn’t like it. And like most things, the problem stemmed from Talia. The Arabian princess was currently resting in Jason’s old room as she recovered from aging overnight. She took her “niece” with her.
He was already piling a file together on the young heiress. There was no telling what she would do, and he didn’t know much about her. He observed as much as he could, but she seemed to watch him more than he watched her.
It was unnerving.
It was as if she was playing some game with him and his children. And that code word she used on him. He will need to find this “system” she spoke of and neutralize it. He couldn’t afford for any of his enemies to use it against him.
He turned his gaze back to his computer and watched the cameras. He could feel his fists clenching as he watched the family prance around Talia. An almost recognizable emotion boiled inside of him whenever he saw the gentle way, she ran her hand through Jason’s hair. How his son leaned into her and the bright smile he gave that was unburdened with bitterness and anger.
He only got a small satisfaction out of watching how Talia had to learn what he already knew about Damian. And yet it still pale in comparison at how at ease he was with his mother. As if he knew just speaking with her would solve his problems. Did the boy forget how she let him be raised? As a soldier! As a murderer!
It wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair. It was appalling. What did this wicked woman have that he did not? How could his sons forget all the love he had for them and give it to her? She was evil! She didn’t deserve to breathe the same air as them.
And yet she was.
She looked comfortable doing pushups with Damian sitting on her back as he recounted a tale about one of his missions with Jon. She was approving and complimented him on his friendship. A Kryptonian? A good choice.
Her niece. Jamila Al Ghul. He had never heard of her until Jason brought her up and yet she seemed to age backwards as she sat cross-legged on Jason’s bed sporting a soft smile. Talia had fussed over her greatly as soon she was on her feet. There was a story there and he will find out what it was. It didn’t help matters with the guilty looks the two gave Jason whenever his attention was diverted elsewhere.
He didn’t to save his sons for her clutches but how could he save them when he was the villain in the story?
He just knew that when everything was over. Talia would take them from him.
Batman was compromised and it was all that devil of a woman’s fault.
--
Jamila was nervous as she sat in the chair of Jason’s office. Her aunt had convinced her that she should tell Jason why he was named the Heir. She didn’t necessarily like it, but she could understand. She closed her eyes and took deep breaths. She had nothing to worry about.
Her aunt was currently at the Batcave arguing with the others over the plan to get inside of the compound. She had already contacted Lady Shiva and Ubu. Plan 88c was being used by the workers at the compound. And their esteemed dimension guests were hiding them and informing them of what was going on.
Her aunt wanted to include them in the cover but then Jamila reminded her of how Batman was an asshole and she refused to let him anywhere near them. Talia agreed, of course.
They would be leaving for the compound soon. Aunt Talia trained nonstop to get herself back in shape, but it’d be another month before she back to her full capacity. Jamila ran a hand through her hair. Once they settled things with her mother, she was going to stay with the League for a little while longer. She had been away from her home for too long.
She almost jumped out of her skin when Jason walked through the door. He looked at her in worry and quickly crossed the room. He had her cuddled up in his arms before she could even blink.
“What’s wrong, Jami?
Jamila almost flinched at the long-forgotten nickname. It made her feel guilty for keeping such a secret an even though it wasn’t bad per say… she and Jason didn’t really keep secrets between the two of them. And this would be two major secrets… well no, this would be three.
One would be the fact that she had died nearly a year and half ago. The single strip of cotton colored hair was proof of her descent into the waters of the Lazarus Pits. Her connection to the Lazarus demon was stronger than ever. Probably the strongest in record of their family especially since the death of Ra and taking on his inner demon.
And now these two secrets that are so intertwined that one doesn’t know where it begins and where it ends. She, the Jamila Al Ghul, had been bested by her own body. She couldn’t even be the Heiress anymore. Bah, she hated politics and the ruling of the clans that made up the Nanda Parbat.
She detangles herself from her cousin and sat up straight. She wiped her face to get rid of any traces of tears. Straightening out her clothes, it was as if a switched was flipped inside of her.
Jamila sat forward like the regal being that she was. She folded her hands in her lap. “Jason, I have something to tell you regarding the clan.”
He looked at her curiously before nodding his head at her. He relaxed in his own seat and tilted his head to her in an almost bored manner. He doubted it was anything that could really knock him off his feet. Not like being secretly named the heir.
“Well first off, I’m technically the reason you’re the heir to the title.”
“…”
Jason could only stare.
Clearing his throat awkwardly, “And how is that?”
Jamila shot him a carefree smile, “Well, when I told you all that I was the rightful heir, I wasn’t lying. And it has nothing to do with my brother.”
She turned her gaze to look at the picture of Jason and her aunt that he had on his desk. “I’m currently the eldest biological grandchild of Ra Al Ghul. Damian relinquished his title as heir when he turned his back on our family. Grandfather hadn’t chosen a successor when he died so the title fell to Mistress Talia as the only legitimate child to take on the position. Mother and Uncle Dusan had been exiled.”
She hated talking politics. It just added on to the reasons of her being glad to no longer be heiress. “The Mistress needed to name an heir. My brother was too far removed and could not take it on. He left the clan willingly and with Mother exiled, it only added on more reasons why. Damian renounced the title and the council didn’t want to treat him for the disrespect. He was just jumped to the end of the succession line. “
Jason nodded his head seriously, “That only left you, me, and Anastasia.”
She nodded her head once, “The council was afraid that if Anastasia ended up in her father’s presence anytime soon, he would poison her mind and turn her against our home. She has done well for herself despite being only thirteen. She had her first kill almost a year ago. I was so proud. A servant of the Zoldyck clan stepped out of line and she went in to put an end to them.”
Jamila smiled serenely, “It was one of my newest poisons. I had just brewed a new batch and I hadn’t even thought of an antidote. It was lethal and fatality rate was at eighty-seven percent. She stole it from me, and I didn’t even notice! A small tick was all that was needed to get it in his bloodstream. He had been dead in mere minutes, but the compounds of the potions made the made feel as if he had been poisoned for days. Its one of my favorites.”
Jason thought that neither of them should feel so proud over small children murdering, but they had long since desensitize themselves to such petty things. Though he is not too proud to admit that he was glad that Damian no longer killed or that Anastasia had waited so long in life before her first kill.
Jamila shook her head slowly, “Either way, the council had not wanted Anastasia as the heiress until they could be sure of her loyalty with no setbacks. And that left me and you.”
It was as if a weight had settled onto her shoulders, “I had been instantly named heir. The last biological grandchild of Ra Al Ghul. I have full control over Lazarus. Skilled in every which and way. My alias brought fear into my enemies’ heart. I was perfect. I grew up in the compound. I grew up in Nanda Parbat. The perfect choice.”
Jason’s brows furrowed, “So how did I end up becoming the heir?”
Jamila’s jaw clenched.
“I relinquished my title. Not because I just didn’t want to be the heiress, but the way that clan was structure would’ve made it impossible for me to do so anyway.”
Her cousin rose a brow before she took a deep breath. She removed the hair tie on wrist and instantly her appearance change. The henged dropped. Her hair grew longer down her back. Her ankles swollen to an uncomfortable portion. Her skin seemed glow and look deathly pale at the same time.
Jason was frozen in shock as he looked her. He read the laws of the league. Hell, Talia made him take classes in law, philosophy, psychology and business. He knew exactly why she couldn’t be the heir any longer.
“I’m pregnant.”
--
Kyle was a detective. Not in the way that the Bats were or even the Arrows. But he was a space cop and he was good at his job. One of the most important lessons that he learned was that when shit went wrong… blame Hal.
And boy, he is blaming all of this on Hal.
He hadn’t even been gone from Earth long. But he comes back to find out that his slightly trigger happy sometime-boyfriend’s foster mother had been turned into a baby. His knife wielding cousin looked like she wanted to simultaneously give him a hug and gut him like a fish before skinning him like snake.
Then there’s also the fact that his best friend Connor had been kidnapped by his batshit crazy mother. (And Kyle had been there for many nights of listening to Connor cry and scream thinking that the crazy lady was coming for him).
Did he mention that the scary cousin was also Connor’s sister? But that’s not even the kicker…
He ended up watching as the badass ninja-assassin mom take part in some ritual with his constructs keeping the weird potion (I don’t deal with potions, kid!) that Constantine cooked up inside with her. It had been the longest three days of his life listening to the woman scream and thrash on the medical table.
It had taken the combine strength of Kori and Artemis to keep Jason down and from attempting to get to Talia. Even Bizarro had to deal with the enraged form of Jason’s cousin as her green eyes seemed glow with rage as she struggles against him.
It was heart wrenching watching the two of them shake and tremble as they tried to desperately reach for the Matriarch of their clan. (He could remember the whispers of secrets Jason would tell him about how he didn’t feel like a Wayne. How he felt more of a demon than a bat. (he would whisper back that he loved him all the same))
Soon the two of them seemed to overpower everyone just by their mere presence alone. The two of them had been carted off to the Outlaws hangout often. Roy had taken charge of the two and locked them in a training room.
It had been ruthless to see them attack each other and with all the intention to kill and only just shortly missing their marks. Red and green eyes seemed to bore into each other. Whenever Kyle managed to find sleep in between Talia’s haunting screams and murderous growls of cousins he swore he saw two spirts dancing over the heads of the cousins laughing at him. They seemed to grow stronger every day.
It hurt him to do so but he forced himself to leave the warehouse at almost every hour. He always ended up back by the woman whose vocal cords should have long went out. And yet her screaming never seemed to end.
Kyle was kind enough to pretend he didn’t see Batman handcuffing himself to his own chair and nervousness that seemed to run through the man. He pretended he didn’t see the look of pain and regret mixed with slight approval in Dick’s face. And he definitely didn’t see the affectionately dubbed demon baby crying silently as he watched his mother thrash on around.
He wasn’t a religious person, but he thanked all the gods he knew from all the worlds he had visited for the day the woman stopped screaming and woke up.
Kyle didn’t know how but he was sure that it was somehow Hal’s fault.
--
Talia sipped her tea as she watched everyone go over the last of the most acceptable plan to enter the Nanda Parbat and the Al Ghul compound. It would’ve been done with quicker, but her idiotic ex-lover had the audacity to think that she would give him a detailed outline of her home.
It was times like those that made her question what she had seen him so long ago.
She had already taken stock of some of the weapons that Jason brought. There were adequate and she made the mental note to buy him better ones. No child of hers was going to be walking around with such meager weapons.
Talia had dressed in one of the outfits that her darling niece managed to get for her from one of the Leagues stashes stationed around the city. She made another mental note to have them updated as the jumpsuit she was currently wearing was just a tad bit too little. Not enough to cause her problems but enough to irritate her.
She flickered her eyes over to her niece that was practicing some of her katas. She could tell easily from her posture that she was slipping herself into battle mode. Her hair had been pulled into an elaborate braid with senbons and small pocketknives. Her mask covered her face and the glow of her eyes could been seen through it.
From the way Jason worriedly glance at her, she knew that Jamila had told him over her condition beforehand. And yet, a simple band of interdimensional technology and medicine kept her true appearance from showing.
Her son had already come to her nearly five times now to find a way to keep her out of the fight. But she knew how stubborn her niece was. She was going to join in the raid of taking down her mother or she’d just take everyone down that stood in her way.
She made another mental note to drag her niece to the medical teams after everything was finished. And another note to take her off the roster for missions until after the child was born and she was recovered.
Talia glanced worriedly down at her tea. Looking at her niece and her children only made her more worried for her own daughter. She hoped Anastasia was safe and far away from Nyssa. She would make her sister beg for death if her baby girl had been harmed in anyway.
A small tap on her shoulder had her looking up to see the space cop smiling lightly at her. She wondered if he knew that she knew about the relations that he was having with her son. Or that she knew that the two of them pretended to only be around each other for having mutual acquaintances.
He was holding onto a travel bag, “Everything’s set and ready. We leave in three minutes.”
She hummed lightly and accepted the bag from him, “Thank you, Kyle.” The answering smile made her wondered how irritated her son would be if she took in another child.
Probably exasperated. She wasn’t Bruce.
--
“Mistress, we’ve just received word that the Batman and the Green Arrow are arriving with their entourage. Reports have stated seeing a woman that looked like Madam Talia.”
“Dismissed.”
Her eyes sparked with rage as she looked out at Nanda Parbat from her father’s throne. They had managed to reverse her dearest sister’s transformation. No matter. Nyssa was currently the Demon Head and she had already presented her son as her heir.
There was no way for her sister to change anything she had already won. And she couldn’t wait to rub it in her face.
“Come, oneechan. Let us prove which of us is the better daughter once and for all.”
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thedcdunce · 6 years
Text
The Riddler
“The future is a riddle only time can solve!” - The Riddler
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Real Name: Edward Nashton
Aliases: 
Enigma
Edward Nigma
Gender: Male
Height: 6′ 1″
Weight: 183 lbs (83 kg)
Eyes: Blue
Hair: Black
Abilities:
Genius Level Intellect
Investigation
Escapology
Weaknesses:
Obsession
Equipment:
Riddler’s Staff
Universe: New Earth
Base of Operations: Gotham City
Marital Status: Single
Citizenship: American
First Appearance: Detective Comics #140 (October, 1948)
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Abilities
Genius Level Intellect: The Riddler is a supreme problem-solver, criminal mastermind. He is a genius with brilliant deductive power. His mind excels with puzzles, minds games, and manipulations. Investigation: He possesses great deductive skills and analytic ability. Escapology: Riddler is adept in escapology. Since childhood Edward has been a big fan of the late great Harold Houdini. Using this skill to build his infamous elaborate death traps and easily escape handcuffs. Like the Joker, he can escape the high security hospital Arkham Asylum whenever he pleases.
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Weaknesses
Obsession: His riddles are in fact a bizarre obsessive compulsion; his attempts to stop himself from sending them has met with failure time and time again. This extends to the fact he cannot simply kill his opponents when he has the upper hand, but prefers to put them in a deathtrap to see if he can devise a life and death intellectual challenge that the hero cannot escape. However, compared to Batman's other themed enemies, Riddler's compulsion is quite flexible, allowing him to commit any crime as long as he can describe it in a riddle or puzzle.
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Equipment
Riddler's staff
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History
Edward Nashton, who later changed his name to Edward Nigma, is the super-villain known as the Riddler. His signature gimmick is committing high-profile crimes, and giving clues or hints to law enforcement. This has made him an enemy of the Batman in Gotham City. The riddles are a compulsive obsession to prove he is smarter than others, and this has made him an occasional patient in Arkham Asylum.
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Origins
Edward Nashton was born into a broken home. His mother was absent and his father was abusive. When Edward was a young boy, he became excited at the idea of winning a puzzle contest at school. To increase his likelihood of winning, Edward sneaked into school during the night and practiced the puzzle until he could solve it with ease. He ended up winning, and was awarded a riddle book as a prize. Since that time, he has mastered puzzles, mind games, and riddles.
Edward was profoundly intelligent and would pass tests with apparent ease, something his father, out of jealousy, couldn't or wouldn't believe; he therefore attributed his success to cheating and started beating on him to keep him 'out of trouble,' or to stop him from lying. Out of the abuse, Edward developed a compulsion he has became known for, he constantly endeavors to tell the truth to prove his innocence. This is where his obsession with riddles comes from. Unfortunately, the abuse is also a main factor that drove him mad and to a life of crime.
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The Riddler
When Edward got older, he left home and became a carnival performer, using his skills to cheat carnival-goers out of their money. But this was not enough for him. He longed for something more, and became the Riddler, at the same time changing his name to Edward Nigma, picking The Batman as an adversary, as he believes him to be an intelligent and more-than-worthy opponent.
Starting out as a simple informant and criminal profiler for the underworld of Gotham City, as well as for Batman, the Riddler slowly became more of a villain to Batman. It wasn't long before he became a main adversary to the Caped Crusader, constantly testing his analytical abilities to their limits.
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The Long Halloween
During the events of the Long Halloween the Riddler became an informant for Gotham city crime lord Carmine Falcone. When a serial killer known as Holiday began targeting Falcone's associates, Carmine hired the Riddler to discover the killer's identity. However, the Riddler's results displeased Falcone, and the gangster even laughed at him, when the Riddler suggested that Carmine himself was the killer. The Riddler later became one of Holiday's victims, but much to the Riddler's confusion, was purposely left unharmed. A year later, Batman consulted Riddler about a second Holiday killer called Hangman.
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Career Criminal
Over the years, the Riddler would earn his living through various heists and robberies, working his way up the criminal food chain, eventually even securing himself a couple of henchwomen to do his bidding. Later in his career, after his exploits have been well established for some time, he attempts a heist in Manchester, Alabama, only to be thwarted by Impulse, whose problem-solving skills he severely underestimates after Impulse initially confuses him for The Question.
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Dark Knight, Dark City
The Riddler becomes darker and more bloodthirsty when he takes an interest in occult rituals. He discovers instructions on how to tame a bat daemon called Barbatos, originally summoned by Thomas Jefferson. The Riddler leads Batman around the city with a series of riddles, designed to prepare Batman as a demonic sacrifice. To make Batman chase him, he kidnaps four babies. He tricks Batman into kissing a hanged man through CPR, and covers him in blood at a transfusion center. The next step is a dance with the dead, accomplished through zombie robots, then slaying a dog with silver. He forces Batman to slit the throat of an unbaptized child, by leaving him with a baby who needs an emergency tracheotomy. Finally he makes Batman do an acrobatic dance in front of a goat representing the devil, by attacking him with a flamethrower. Batman is captured and tied to an altar. The Riddler prepares to stab Batman in the heart, but the demon Barbatos intervenes to stop him. The Riddler flees in terror and torches the building, but Batman is able to escape.
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Knightfall
Riddler was back in action, but he was attacked by Bane, who dosed Riddler with Venom. Batman tried to stop Riddler, but he was too strong and Batman was tired. Bane's henchmen shot Riddler under Bane's command leaving Riddler badly injured.
His stay in Arkham was short lived as Bane released all the inmates as a plan to eliminate Batman. Riddler escaped as well, gathered his old gang and started planning his next move. Riddler sent a letter to the Gotham City Police Department, but they were too busy with all the other criminals from Arkham and Riddler's letters got overlooked in the situation. After a while, his own henchmen got tired of waiting for the police to notice the clues and they ditched Riddler out of the score. On an attempt to be noticed, Riddler went to a live TV broadcast, armed with bombs and took over the show. He delivered his riddles to the audience, but nobody was able to answer them. Riddler was soon stopped by Robin, who watched the TV, learned of his move and arrived at the TV station in no time. The bomb turned out to be fake and Riddler was captured and taken back to Arkham.
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Hush
The Riddler is diagnosed with terminal cancer, so he cures himself by stealing one of Ra's al Ghul's Lazarus Pits. This grants him a temporary clarity, and he finally figures out that Bruce Wayne is Batman. He tries to sell this cure to a rich doctor named Thomas Elliot, whose parents also died of cancer. Elliot hates Bruce Wayne, and they decide to work together to destroy Batman. Elliot becomes the villain Hush, and the Riddler designs an intricate plan. This involves enlisting or manipulating Catwoman, Clayface, Harley Quinn, Huntress, Jason Todd, The Joker, Killer Croc, Poison Ivy, Scarecrow, and Superman. Batman and Nightwing actually fight the Riddler during this time when he robs an armored car. They assume the Riddler is too pathetic to be involved. Hush loses to Batman, and Batman figures out that the Riddler was the mastermind. Batman explains that a riddle everyone knows the answer to is worthless, so he knows the Riddler will keep his secret. Ra's al Ghul will also have his League of Assassins kill the Riddler if they ever discover what happened. Batman punches the Riddler, tells a security guard that he fell, and leaves Arkham Asylum.
After the Hush incident, Riddler escaped from Arkham and sought Poison Ivy's protection from Hush and from the League of Assassins. However, Ivy was equally mad at him after he used her on his "Hush" scheme and she attacked Riddler as soon as he stepped into her lair. Riddler tried to escape, but Ivy wouldn't let him go. Riddler finally gave up and asked Ivy to kill him and finish his pain. However, she refused, leaving Riddler helpless in a catatonic state.
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Downfall and New Start
Later, Elliott reappeared demanding from the Riddler the location of the Lazarus Pit. When Riddler refused to answer, he was brutally beaten. Seeking refuge, the Riddler went to the Joker and the Penguin. He tries to bargain with the Joker for asylum and he agrees but eventually his safety is compromised and he is forced to go on the run again. He asks Poison Ivy for asylum, both of whom remembered his manipulation and the meeting didn't go well. At a loss, the Riddler went into a downward spiral of insanity and became homeless. He eventually was found by a ex-NASA decoder who helped him recover his mind. It is during this time that the Riddler has an induced flashback about his childhood, he comes to the realization of what happened when he was abused and why. He also deduces the reason behind why he has the compulsion he has for riddles.
Using his vast fortune, acquired over many years of crime, he gets minor plastic surgery and extensive tattooing. He covers the majority of his torso with his trademark question mark insignia. He kills the Codebreaker, who has discovered his secret identity and steals a priceless scroll, before Batman can get to it. It was at this time that Riddler starting amassing a huge fortune legally and attacking various heroes to prove his abilities.
During this time, he had a run in with Green Arrow, Arsenal and the Outsiders. The Riddler is up for revenge against his defeat by the Green Arrow and he brutally injures and almost kills the the two archers. If not for the timely arrival of the Outsiders they may have been killed. Before these events, the Riddler was hired to steal artifacts imbued with mystical powers from one of Star City's museums, and then distract the authorities so that the related rituals could be commenced. He sends Team Arrow on a wild goose chase around the City, and then reveals that he has an atomic bomb housed in the stadium where the Star City Rockets play. However, as a side effect of the ritual performed with the artifacts, the city is plunged into complete darkness, and Green Arrow uses this to his advantage, to capture the Riddler.
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Infinite Crisis
The Riddler was with a group of villains attacking the Gotham City Police Department. He later escaped from Arkham Asylum after a worldwide breakout by the Secret Society of Super Villains. He then is along with the Society when they attack Metropolis. He is defeated by the Shining Knight and is struck in the head by the Knight's mace.
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One Year Later
The Riddler was sent into a coma when he was hit in the head by the Shining Knight's mace. When the Riddler awoke a year later, without his obsessive compulsive fixation for riddles but still possesses his great intellect and enormous ego. He also suffers from memory loss forgetting his own name for a while and not remembering that Bruce Wayne is Batman, but he is suspicious. With the Penguin's advice, he was reformed and then became a private investigator at which he legally develops even more of a fortune. He was finally on the right side of the law using his great talents for the good of the people.
He even becomes involved in a ship bound murder mystery alongside Batman, while deducing a part of the mystery, Batman deduces the real reason. In the end they both did there part in solving the crime and have become hostile allies. He is then hired by Bruce Wayne to find a experimental drug stolen from Wayne Enterprises. In the end with the help of a reformed Harley Quinn he gets the drug back and returns it to the rightful owners.
In a run in with Mary Marvel he describes to her how he is reformed, the two then join forces against Clayface, where Edward gets to see up front how twisted and cruel she has become with a great power. He suggests that she gets a mentor or some anger management.
Even Nightwing hired him to find out who was behind recent string of museum robberies, whom he later saves from gang warfare while investigating Penguin's involvement in organized crime. He later deduces that Nightwing is Dick Grayson.
During his time as detective, word about Batman's death started to spread. As crime became more violent in Gotham, he was approached by Penguin who wanted Nigma's service as an investigator to find the new Black Mask that started operating in Gotham. To help his investigation, he recruited Harley Quinn and later Poison Ivy joined their efforts. On this quest, Riddler became the man who helped Quinn, Ivy and Catwoman to become a team.
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Fun Facts
In many other realities, the Riddler's birth name is Edward Nigma, Edward Nygma, E. Nigma or even Edward E. Nigma. However, the New Earth Riddler was born Edward Nashton and changed his name to Edward Nigma later in life.
Jim Gordon has mentioned that several Gotham criminals have their own codewords. These are special phrases they can say when they call the GCPD, to distinguish them from prank phone calls. The Riddler chose "Oedipus" as his codeword, because Oedipus solved the riddle of the Sphinx. Gordon remarks that this is strange, because medical records suggest the Riddler hated his own mother. The Riddler's codeword for Batman is "The Hanging Man."
The Riddler's online screen name is "Wizard101." This might be a reference to the game of the same name, which was released the same year as Detective Comics #845, the issue where this username was used.
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lananiscorner · 6 years
Note
Damian is my favorite and as much I don’t like seeing him get hurt, Jason is justified cause it’s self defense. Pretty sure it’s against Jason’s morals to hurt innocent kids
Well, to be fair, Jason zig-zagged between justified and unjustified in that story. it’s a bloody mess and I hate having to go over this again, because I HATE HATE HATE Battle For The Cowl, but here is basically what happens:
Bruce “dies”. Criminals throw a party, i. e. they set Gotham ablaze.
Dick refuses to take up the mantle of Batman, even though it’s clear criminals ain’t scared of “just” Nightwing, Robin & Co.
Jason decides to become Batman, although Jason being Red Hood, he shoots people. (Eh... not really justified, but after how the family has been treating him up til then and the Lazarus Pit* and all, I am not surprised.)
Jason saves Dick and Damian from death by gangster gun.
Damian attacks Jason, while implying he’ll put him in a grave. (Unjustified. Ok, you don’t agree with his killing, but threatening to kill him is so much better, huh? *rolls eyes*)
Jason slaps Damian (justified - Damian did just attack him with intention to kill him) and implies he’ll kill both of them if they don’t join him.
Dick & Damian gang up on Jason. (Justified.)
Jason, seeing he is outmatched, shoots Damian to get a chance to escape. (Not really justified. He could have aimed somewhere other than the chest and I think a good apology should be owed after that. I’m too scared to re-read Batman & Robin and Red Head Emo Jason to see if he did give one at some point.)
Tim dons Batman suit and goes looking for Jason.
Jason wants to recruit Tim as his Robin.
Tim calls him deranged and psychopathic and the two fight.
Jason sticks a Batarang into Tim’s chest. (I’m pretty sure he never apologized for that one, at least not until New 52. He probably should.)
Dick goes to find Jason.
Jason wants Dick to be his Robin and taunts him about Tim.
Dick starts beating the crap out of Jason and also tries to give him “tough love” along the lines of “oh btw, I know about how you were raped as a child, sorry about that, now please get over it, here confront your trauma”. (What a dick.)
Jason keeps on attacking and refuses Dick’s attempt to “save” him in the end. (Totally justified. With a brother like that, who needs enemies?)
*For the record: the Lazarus Pit turned Nora Fries, one of the kindest and gentlest souls in the DCU into an insane, raging demon of destruction. As a matter of fact, I think the level of psychopathy Lazarus zombies display might be directly proportional to the goodness of the person before they went in.
P.S.: Post resurrection Jason in general is extremely mischaracterized, but yes - he was generally protective of children, even then, except if said children were also highly trained assassins/vigilantes (he had no qualms about beating the crap out of Damian) and the only time he even so much as talked about wanting to hurt children was in one (1) issue of Robin, so probably just the writer not knowing what the fuck he was doing.
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Maleo Week Day 2 // July 17th → Crossover Theo and Malia as Bruce Wayne (Batman le duh) and Talia al Ghul from Son of Batman.
“Take a look Damian, one day, all of this will be yours,” Peter smiled, looking down at his grandson as they watched the assassins train from the balcony. “We’re going to rebuild the world, you and I.”
The young boy looked up at his grandfather, then to his mother and allowed a faint and rare smile to cross his lips. A smile Malia returned, sadly, she’d hardly seen her son smile in all his ten years of life. She supposed it was a given, she never smiled much at his age either. Even before the death of her mother her father hadn’t been one to joke around. She never quite knew if it was as a result of being brought back to life as many times as he was or if all the horrors he’d seen throughout his centuries on earth were what had made him this way, but one thing was certain, Peter Hale had raised both her and her son the same way.
Perhaps Peter wasn’t entirely to blame, if she remembers correctly, Damian’s own father never did smile often. He also shared Damian’s innate affinity for capes as well. Damian was a carbon copy of his father and every time she thought of the last night she’d shared with him, her heart broke a little inside.
“I was wondering when you’d show up,” Malia smiled turning to face Theo.
He’d yet to have removed his uniform she noted, he must have been informed of the security breach.
“Malia, what are you doing here? And more importantly-”
“How did I get in?” she asked with a smirk. “Your security could use some work. I’d expected more from the incredible Batman.”
“Don’t insult me,” he scoffed, hiding a smile grin.
“I came to thank you.”
“To thank me? For what?”
“You may not know this, but the man you put away tonight was to become my husband and my father’s successor.”
“Should I be offended at how easy it was for your father to replace me?” the Dark Knight asked with a smile.
“Peter is a proud man, he doesn’t take rejection well and with all the times you’ve told him no, you’ve all but crushed his ego. In fact, he’s only persisted because of my feelings towards you.”
“Malia-”
“You know how I feel about you.”
“I know that you’ve always declined my offers to stay in Gotham.”
“As have you declined all mine to leave.”
“Gotham is my city. It’s my job to protect it.”
“Peter is my father, my place is at his side.”
“He’s a misogynistic homicidal maniac. He never gives you the respect you deserve Malia.” Theo countered.
“Oh, and I suppose you will? All you care about is this city. This one small crack in the wall. You could do so much more-”
“Your father gave me the speech countless times Malia. I’m not joining the league.”
“I didn’t come here to recruit you Theo…”
“Right, you came into my bedroom in the middle of the night to thank me.”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Malia spoke huskily as she slowly began unzipping the front of her bodysuit.
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
“I’ve always wanted to act on my feelings Theo, I’ve just always been distracted some way or another by my father… Now let me see your eyes,” she said walking over to him and placing a hand on his cheek.
Theo pulled back his mask and met Malia’s eyes. Even after she’d slipped her suit off, that’s where his eyes remained.
After slipping her boots off, she was shorter than him and tilted her head upwards to kiss him. The kiss was soft, softer than either of them had expected; they were- after all- very passionate beings.
A fact demonstrated by the way he kissed her as he shoved her naked against the wall of his bedroom, her long legs wrapped snugly around his bare midsection. Malia grabbed a fistful of his hair in an attempt to make the kiss go her way. It would have worked, had he not brushed his thumb against her clit, causing her to go lax and moan into his mouth. It was a thing of beauty really, Malia’s muffled moan, he sought to draw more from her lips and opted to bring both her legs to his shoulders. He breathed against her core and she locked her ankles around his neck in anticipation.
They’d been in this position before he remembers, quite a lot of times. Of course they’d both been trying to- virtually- kill each other. He doubted sex would be much different, everything was a competition with Malia. Still, she writhed and moaned his name. He knew she hated not being in control but clearly her desire to come apart on his tongue far outweighed that as the only moves she made were grabbing his hair and ensuring his head remained buried between her legs. Theo caught a glimpse of her face as she’d began to shake from her orgasm and he could barely contain the groan that threatened to slip past his lips, he’d never seen her look so beautiful. He loved it.
“I need you,” Malia panted out as Theo laid her on his large bed.
“Of course,” Theo smirked, walking over to his bedside table to retrieve a condom when Malia slipped a hand into his silk boxers from behind and started stroking his erection.
“I don’t enjoy being kept waiting, beloved,” she breathed huskily into his ear.
“Right, how rude of me,” Theo smirked pinning Malia to the bed and kissing her neck.
Theo had been so distracted by her that he completely forgot about using protection all together. She didn’t seem to mind. In fact, the only problem she seemed to have was being beneath him. This was demonstrated by how she flipped them, clearly in the mood to control the pace. He didn’t mind for the most part, he could see her a lot better. Yes, it was far easier to admire her beauty when she wasn’t pointing a gun at him or escaping with her father.
Of course- her multiple jabs about being the one in control had left him eager to prove her wrong and he pinned her beneath him- amidst several protests.
“Relax sweetheart,” Theo smirked putting a finger to Malia’s lips.
Naturally, she bit his finger in response, prompting him to pin her hands above her head as he brought them both to climax.
“Well,” Malia panted.
“I know,” Theo chuckled, pulling her to his chest.
“I can see why you’re such a hit with the ladies.”
“I’m not one to kiss and tell.”
“Of course, you’re a noble gentleman,” Malia chuckled getting up and walking over to the table where Theo had Scotch laid out.
She poured them each a glass before unscrewing a vial from her pendant and pouring the contents into Theo’s glass.
“Why do you sound so shocked?” he asked taking the glass from her and taking a swig of the brown liquid.
“I guess I just realised that nothing I do will convince you to join the league of assassins.”
“No. But-”
“But what? Are you okay?”
“Sorry, must be some late effects from facing your father.”
“Right, my father does have that effect on people,” she smirked resting on his bare chest.
“So do you,” Theo smirked kissing Malia.
“I imagine, bottoms up,” she grinned downing her drink.
Theo downed his drink and felt even more lightheaded. Everything was blurry and the room started to spin.
“Malia,” he gasped.
“Shh,” she spoke huskily placing a finger to his lips.
“Sweet dreams beloved,” she finished, placing a kiss to his lips. Malia let out a sigh as Theo shut his eyes.
She still had a job to do. Slipping one of Theo’s shirts and buttoning it up, she made her way down to the Batcave and began decrypting the codes. She needed to be quick, lord knows she couldn’t risk alerting Theo’s butler or the boy wonder.
She managed to get in in under two minutes. His system really did need some work. Nonetheless, she wiped his system clean of any information about her father.
“Hello, father?” she spoke into her communicator.
“Yes Malia? Has it been done?”
“He’s knocked out and the system is wiped clean.”
“Good job. I’ll send you the coordinates of the rendezvous point. You have an twenty minutes.”
“Good thing my beloved has a multitude of cars I suppose.”
“We’ll be home in no time. I’ll speak to you then.”
“Yes father,” she nodded hanging up the phone.
 The sound of helicopters and gunshots shaked her from her daze. The compound was under attack. She needed to act.
Malia fought valiantly but Deathstroke had still managed to best them. It didn’t matter that Peter had lived for centuries or that he had such an amazing legacy, all that mattered were the few inches that separated his badly burned body- now corpse- from the Lazarus Pit.
He couldn’t be brought back now. The time of the demon was over, and she had a decision to make.
Would she bend a knee to Deathstroke and have her father’s legacy forever tarnished; or would she avenge her father and rule her way? The choice was obvious.
Theo was pinned down by Killer Croc, possibly about to be eaten when someone tasered the (somehow even more mutated) mutant, causing him to pass out at Theo’s feet. The masked man contained a gasp when he saw who had saved his life.
It was none other than Malia who had smirked and delivered some witty one liner before telling him to meet her on her yacht. She said they had things to discuss, he went ahead, skeptical but curious about what could have brought her to Gotham.
She’d had time to change her outfit, clearly this was a social call, he thought as he avoided the ample cleavage and thigh high slits on either side of her long red dress.
“Can I get you a drink?” she asked, pouring herself a glass of Scotch.
“Last I remember that didn’t go so well,” Theo scoffed.
“If I remember correctly, I slipped a little something in your drink,” Malia smirked, walking over to him.
“That’s how I remember it too.”
“Wasn’t all bad was it?” she asked, biting her lip and sliding a now exposed thigh up his leg before wrapping her arms around him.
“I suppose,” Theo scoffed.
“Hmmm…. So you do remember our time together…”
“Some of it…”
“The best parts?”
“Before you drugged me and left my bed to return to the league.”
“You know what they say about blood being thicker than water,” Malia pouted sexily, looking up at him.
“What do you want?” Theo scoffed, grabbing her by her shoulders and detaching her from him.
“My father’s dead,” she sighed.
“Peter?” “How many fathers do I have?” Malia scoffed.
Theo raised a brow in response before muttering an apology. “He just always seemed-”
“Like you? Indestructible?” Malia spoke, cutting him off.
“You should see my X-rays,” Theo grinned.
“You could show them to me sometime,” she smirked.
“You don’t seem too broken up about this…”
“There’s no time to mourn,” she shrugged. “Assassins threaten to take over my father’s organisation. They’re led by a man dad thought could be his successor. Before he found out about you of course,” Malia sighed taking a sip of her scotch. “Now he wants to kill us,” she finished, tossing the drink back in one swig.
“Us?”
“Not you and me. Your son and I,” Malia said gesturing for him to follow her down the hall.
“My son?” Theo scoffed as Malia stopped before a door.
“I assure you he’s yours,” she said opening the door to reveal a little boy who, admittedly- looked exactly Theo when he was that age.
“My son?” Theo asked again, still shocked.
“Don’t look so shocked father, I thought you’d be taller,” Damian spoke looking up at Theo.
“Funny, your mother said exactly the same thing.”
“Forgive me for expecting the fearsome Batman to have a more imposing physical make up.”
“We need to talk,” Theo scoffed shutting Damian’s room door and dragging Malia back to the main room by her bicep.
“I quite enjoy these types of talks.”
“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me we had a son?” Theo growled.
“I’ll answer when I’m talking to Theo and not Batman,” Malia scoffed crossing her arms.
“Oh for fuck’s sake Malia!” Theo scoffed removing his mask. “Happy now? Good. Why didn’t you tell me about him?”
“Forgive me if I didn’t think you’d have time to raise a child whilst playing both Batman and Billionaire Playboy.”
“Wanna try saying that again? Maybe this time I’ll believe that’s the real reason.”
“What would be the real reason?” Malia asked, glaring at him.
“You not only played me that night, you used me. You didn’t have sex with me because of any feelings. You did it because you wanted me to get you pregnant.”
Malia’s hard expression faltered, “Theo-”
“Let me guess, your daddy told you that an heir would be have better than failing in his task to get me?”
“He had nothing to do with that!” Malia snapped.
“Don’t you see I didn’t have a choice?!”
Theo let out a scoff, “You never have a choice Malia.”
“Producing an heir with your DNA was the perfect solution to all his problems… I wouldn’t need to be in fear of him marrying me off to some barbarian like Bane in the hopes of me being bred well.”
Theo was disgusted at thought of Malia being regarded as just a womb for Peter’s empire to grow. It made him detest the man further, luckily for them both, he had already been killed.
“Still, you stayed.”
“He’s my father.”
“He’s a monster Malia. You once told me that you were the strongest of all your siblings, the most competent.”
“I am.”
“Yet he’d overlook you and search for successors elsewhere.”
“I’m a woman… I wasn’t meant to lead the league of shadows. It’s my one flaw he’d always say… He’d have corrected it if he wasn’t afraid it’d alter me all together. I got lucky our son was born a the way he was… A strong, healthy mix of two talented beings. He was perfect.”
“Perfect for Peter to sink his claws into and mould into whatever he wanted right?”
“It got him off my back and kept me from having to choose between the both of you ever again.”
“Let’s be honest here, you have and always would have chosen him.”
“Why do you think you’re still alive Theo? Heck- why do you my father even considered making you his successor?” Malia scoffed. “It’s not because of your amazing prowess and touching backstory. You’re alive, because of me.”
“That’s a bold statement don’t you think? Especially considering that every time I met your father in battle I’ve won.”
“My father had been alive for over five centuries and knew virtually every style of fighting ever invented, yet he was bested by a man dressed like a bat? Really beloved? I knew you were arrogant but I never thought you were stupid.” Malia sighed. “Even if you did manage to beat him, he had countless expendable assassins who could have systematically taken you out. But he never did.”
“I’m confused as to what you had to do with that but okay. Remember it how you will.”
“My father didn’t kill you and string your corpse up for your precious Gotham to see because I was in love with you!”
“What?”
“I was in love with you,” she sighed. “But, that doesn’t matter now… It’s too late for us and we’ve proven that we won’t work.”
“Malia-”
“Take care of our son? Please? He’s all I have now.”
“I will, but why don’t you stay?”
“I need to avenge my father and stop the league from falling under that psycho’s control.”
“And after?”
“I’m not sure,” Malia sighed. “I admit, I’ve thought about you a lot lately. How things could have been different had I stayed that night. How Damian could be different.”
“Different?”
“He idolises Peter. Hopes to fulfill his mission. But he’s so much like you-”
“Malia-”
“He’s strong, stubborn, brooding- it’s too late for us but not for the two of you. I want my son by my side when I take over the league, but not as some mindless killer.”
Theo let out a sigh, “This guy, the one who wants to kill you-”
“No. I have to do this on my own. Just please keep an eye on Damian. He’s inherited your inability to stay away from a fight. And I fear he’ll become a target.”
“I’ll keep him safe, I promise,” Theo said cupping Malia’s cheek.
She nodded and allowed herself to give him one final kiss before she watched him and her son walk through the door and off of her yacht. There was no time for tears. She had a job to do.
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bat-losers-inc · 5 years
Text
Collisions in the Dark (Ch 9): Berserker
Summary: In the wake of some devastating news, Tim act out against Ra’s al Ghul in a very Jason-like fashion. 
Pairings: Jason Todd/Tim Drake & Tim Drake/Ra’s al Ghul & Jason Todd & Talia al Ghul
Chapter Notes: Berserker: A rash playing style characterized by frenzied attacking with one or two pieces, perhaps with little regard for strategy or danger
“This must be what love is: a pain so radiant it cuts through all others.” — “Beekeeping”, Sara Eliza Johnson.
Tim squeezed his eyes shut tight and tried to remember how to breathe. He wrapped his arms around his middle and felt the press of his chest against his forearms with every inhale he took. He stayed sitting that way in rigid silence until he’d convinced his body that he was still alive, despite the pain that thrummed in his chest.
Tim opened his eyes and stared at the floor. He could feel Ra’s presence behind him and the uncertain eyes of every worker in the room as they stared at the two of them in fearful silence. Tim knew that if he looked up at any one of them in that moment, he would see an earlier version of himself. It must have been what he’d looked like to Jason on that first night during dinner with Ra’s, where he was so afraid to attract the Demon Head’s eye that he scarcely looked in his direction, his eyes fixed on only Jason and his plate. Tim knew that he wasn’t that person anymore, he couldn’t be after being in Ra’s corrupting presence for so long.
“Clear the room.”
The silence was momentarily filled with the squeaking of chair wheels and the shuffle of footsteps. Tim watched their shadows slide across the floor tiles in front of him. He tilted his head, ear straining until he heard the door click shut behind the last man.
“Why did you do it?” Tim had to take a breath before saying it. He didn’t want to taste those words on his tongue… to hear the words ring in his own ears.
“Kill him,” Tim finished, hating the finality of it.
He gave a small abortive shake of his head, trying to slot Ra’s decision into some logical place in his mind. “You could have just sent him away. You won… he knew that you’d won. If you had told him to leave and never set his eyes on me again, he would have done it. So, why kill him?”
Ra’s moved forward until Tim thought he could almost see him out of the corner of his eye. “Jason was a distraction that needed to be eliminated. Permanently.”
Tim laughed. It hurt. “A distraction?”
“You and I both know that he would have lingered in the back of your mind if he still lived and breathed. Your focus would be elsewhere. I couldn’t afford to take that risk.”
Ra’s was right. As long as Tim had hope and the memory of their one night together, Tim wouldn’t be thinking of anyone else.
“And sending him to his death.” Tim turned to stare at him over his shoulder. “You didn’t think that would distract me? That it wouldn’t make me hate you?”
“You’ve always hated me,” countered Ra’s. There wasn’t any anger to his words, this was just an understanding that Ra’s had come to on his own.
Tim shook his head and pushed slowly to his feet. He turned around to address Ra’s properly. “No, I was afraid of you. There’s a difference. But now you’ve truly earned my hatred. You took him away from me.”
“No!” Barked Ra’s, some anger finally pushing through that cool demeanor. “He was taking you away from me. I was eliminating a threat. Protecting what’s mine!”
Tim’s anger flared and he didn’t bother to restrain himself. What did it matter anymore? Jason was alone and dying. The mission was done. He had no pretense to maintain anymore.
“I was never yours!” he roared. “Did you really think that any of it was real? That I could actually love you?  You don’t even know how to love.”
Tim panted, breath ragged. “I’ve seen your type before… the old bachelors at Bruce’s galas who come from old money and care only about flaunting it in everyone’s faces. You’re greedy and cold. You only want me to say that you have me. To show me off like I’m a trophy! Well, I am not your possession and I don’t love you. How many times do I have to flat-out reject you, before you understand that?”
Ra’s latched at his wrist, despite Tim’s delayed effort to pull his arm out of reach. Tim tugged futilely against his hold anyway, hating the feeling of being shackled, feeling like he did that first night when he woke up here, his wrist chained to the headboard.
“You could never make me not love you.” Ra’s declared. “Despite what you might be feeling right now, despite where you go in a month… a year from now. I will always search for you and try to prove my love to you.”
Tim’s mouth opened, but it took a moment before any words were ready on his tongue. “Is that romantic to you? Because it shouldn’t be. It feels more like a threat than a declaration of love.”
Ra’s smiled. “I guess it all depends on your mindset.”
Tim slipped his wrist slowly out of Ra’s, not yanking… no he didn’t want to make himself look like a threat. He was calm as he put more space in between them, pressing his back against the desk and planted his hands on the desktop for support.
“You want a declaration of love? How’s this… Even when he’s dead and buried in the ground, even when the bugs and rot have gotten to him and his face is unrecognisable from its former beauty, and he no longer holds the space in the back of everyone’s heads… even then I will still love Jason Todd more than I could ever love you.”
Once Tim said it out loud he knew it was true. There was nothing Ra’s could do to change that. No matter how hard he tried.
Ra’s smiled, there was anger there but also a fierce determination to change those facts to his favor. “Not even death will part us, Timothy. Not even—”
Tim couldn’t stand to listen to it anymore, knowing it was true. Despite his stubbornness and his devotion to Jason, Ra’s had an army and a lazarus pit on his side. Tim was never going to escape here.
In an unexplainable act of ,very Jason-like, suicide his hands found the wireless keyboard on the desk and he brought it around in a savage, two-handed swing. It collided with the side of Ra’s face, cracking in half on impact. Tim felt a rush of adrenaline at the knowledge that he’d caught Ra’s off guard. Ra’s stumbled, dazed, and fell to one knee.
Tim knew he couldn’t stop now. He dropped the broken remains of the keyboard and found another within reach, striking at Ra’s again, but the older man was ready this time, throwing up his arms to deflect the blow. Ra’s’ hands ripped the keyboard from Tim’s grip and chucked it across the room.
When Tim looked at Ra’s face, dripping blood into his left eye from a cut above his eyebrow, Ra’s’ face was caught in a mix of shock and anger. Tim believe he might have forgotten that his beloved “detective” held such rage in him. Tim was intent on reminding him.
He stepped in towards Ra’s and struck up with his knee. Ra’s snaked his arm around his leg and pulled, sending Tim crashing to the floor.
Then, Ra’s was over him, hands grasping for his arms to press them into the ground. Tim grit his teeth and pummeled the man with his knees and feet until he managed to kick Ra’s’ feet out from under him. Tim coughed as the air exploded out of his lungs at the extra weight on his chest, but planted his feet all the same and rolled both of them until he was on top.
Tim wasted no time in striked Ra’s in the face. Tim felt raw and unrepentant in his violent behavior. He thought at this moment that he might finally understand what Jason felt like when he was brawling in the dark alleyways against Gotham’s most notorious villains. Taking all of those emotions that had built up from nightmares and old, unhealed, wounds and releasing them through your fists. Feeling in that moment like you were overpowering it with the breaking of skin and the spray of blood.
Tim burrowed his knees and heels into Ra’s’ sides to prevent him from bucking him off. Ra’s was dazed and down but Tim knew him well enough to know that he was not out. Tim would not underestimate him again.
The commotion their brawl was making must have alerted Ra’s servants. It was hard to tear his gaze aware when that tunnel vision was starting up, but Tim looked up towards the far doors. He really shouldn’t have, the distraction was all Ra’s needed to strike. His hand shot up and grasped Tim’s neck like a vice.
Tim choked on a breath and dug his fingernails into the flesh of Ra’s’ hand, trying to pull one of his fingers back enough to dislocate it. Ra’s didn’t give him a chance, though, using his leverage to throw Tim off him.
Tim’s head cracked against the tiled floor, black spots dancing before his eyes. Tim blinked hard through his distorted gaze, shoving himself backwards even as his body urged him to stay still. He couldn’t see much, but he could make out basic shapes, like for example, the oblong shape which was Ra’s and was currently standing and moving towards him.
“I thought we’d gotten past this behavior, Detective.” Ra’s wiped at the blood that trailed from his nose.
Tim staggered to his feet and, with a cry, ran at him. They came together and traded short, sharp blows to each other’s head and torso. Tim’s world narrowed into jabs, blocks, and breaking grips. Ra’s arms clutched at Tim’s shoulders, yanking him in to deliver bruising thrusts of his knees to Tim’s sides. Tim took the beating and thrust his elbows down, breaking Ra’s grip on him. His kicked Ra’s in the stomach and then higher, across the face, sending him stumbling backwards. There was blood splattered across the floor.
Tim wanted to relish the breathing room he’d gained, but knew if he did then Ra’s would have the upper hand again. He actually wanted to figure out who had entered the room while he was getting his ass handed to him and if they were going to be a problem, but he could only deal with one problem at a time. He came at Ra’s kicking, striking at his shins and sides. He bounced back on the balls of his feet and came in again with a roundhouse kick with his opposite leg.
Ra’s trapped Tim’s leg against his hip and twisted. Tim collapsed as his balance was thrown off. The blows that rained down on him after that were quick and brutal, punching the air out of his lungs. Tim was on the floor again with Ra’s staring down at him, expecting Ra’s boot to come down on his face at any second and end this fight. Ra’s was prepared to fill that expectation, it seemed, and his leg rose.
Tim didn’t think that either of them were prepared for one of the men that had been hanging off to the side to come charging out of left field and knock Ra’s off his feet like a linebacker. Tim stared in shock at Ra’s as he slid across the tiles.
Hands were under Tim’s arms, dragging him up and backwards. Tim jerked back into awareness of his situation and tried to twist out of his attacker’s hold, but the man had ahold of his shirt and, short of undressing himself, he couldn’t get free.
“Stop fighting me. We’re on your side.” grunted the man pulling Tim towards the doors.
“What is the meaning of this!” Ra’s bellowed from across the room as three more men approached him, blocking his path towards Tim.
“Talia al Ghul sends her regards.”
Tim stopped struggling and allowed himself to be put on his feet. The same man that had been dragging Tim clutched his arm and pulled him through the hallways of the compound. Tim was aware of more men surrounding him, protecting him from all sides, but his mind was occupied with thoughts of Talia and the aid she had sent him.
He couldn’t understand why she would help him, until he thought about Ra’s and Jason’s deal. Talia hadn’t known about it. Only a day ago she had been urging Jason to flee and save himself, she wouldn’t have just gone along with a plan to martyr Jason. Well, she had definitely found out now and it seemed she wasn’t happy. Tim felt oddly proud that she had chosen his side over her own father’s.
“There’s a car fueled and waiting for you.” The man shoved a piece of paper into Tim’s hands. “You must find Jason Todd and take him to this location. You may find an ally there who could save Jason.”
Tim was out of breath and his thoughts were out of order with the whiplash speed that everything was changing at. Save Jason? There was a possibility he could still be saved? “But how do I get to him? He’s all the way in New York and I’m… here.”
Tim wasn’t entirely sure where here was, but he knew it was going to take a long flight to reach Jason. And Jason didn’t have that much time. Plus Tim had to worry about not spreading the anthrax poisoning to anyone else.
“I’m sorry but that’s for you to figure out.”
Tim was yanked to a stop as someone came charging around the corner, katana drawn. Tim was pressed against the wall, shielded bodily, as the adversary was cut down. As he was pulled along again he asked, “Why are you helping me?”
The man leading him spared him but a glance, his expression unknowable through the black fabric that covered everything but his eyes from view.
“We owe a debt to Talia from long ago. Now we are repaying her, even at the cost of our lives.”
They made it to the car park and stopped in from of a black sedan, the back seats packed full with food and camping gear.
“Exactly how far away is this place?” Asked Tim with mild concern.
“A days drive or more, but the demon’s head will be looking for you. Your travel time might be delayed if you are evading search parties and it won't be safe to stay the night in a town.”
The man handed the keys over and stepped aside to let Tim into the driver’s side. Tim slammed the door shut and spoke through the opened window. “Evading packs of ninjas. Sounds fun. Any advice?”
The man placed his hand against the side of the car and leaned in. “Drive fast. Very, very, fast.”
Tim blinked at him. “Right… That's reassuring.”
He turned the key in the ignition. The radio came to life, a foreign pop song thumping through the speakers. Tim was reminded of the last music he’d heard, a song sung by a boy in almost hushed tones to a scared little girl, separated from her mother.
“You need to leave. Now” The man urged with a glance back the way they’d come from, like he was expecting company at any moment.
“I can’t,” said Tim.
“You have to!”
“I need you to promise that you’ll do something for me. Free the scientist and his family. I don’t want them to suffer at Ra’s hands.”
The man considered it for a moment, before settling on the honest answer. “I’ll do my best, but I can’t promise anything.”
“You’re best is more than they had before, so… thank you.”
There was noise in the corridor. “You need to leave, right now.”
Tim put the car and reverse and made a quick two point turn out of the parking spot, he glanced back in the rearview mirror as he was driving away, the men that had rescued him were already turning, distracted by an influx of ninjas that burst into the car park. Tim hadn't expected to get a send off anyway.
As he was driving down the winding road that ran down the mountainside and away from the compound, Tim fumbled in his pocket for the comm that Jason had left him and placed it in his ear. He’d have to wait until he was a safe distance away before he could stop and find the correct line to call.
“Shouldn't you be calling the big man with the pointy ears for this?” The voice asked, full of concern. “I mean Ra’s al Ghul is usually a Justice League issue. Not a Young Justice issue.”
Tim was sitting with a laptop perched on his lap. The car he was driving was currently pulled off of the road and parked behind a patch of bushes, obscuring it from view.
“The Justice League is already handling the aftermath in New York. Besides… I need someone fast not someone qualified. Bart, please! I need to get Jason here as quick as possible.”
There was a long pause that had Tim biting his lip in concern.
“Alright,” Bart said, finally. “You said I’d find him in New York?”
“Check all the hospitals,” suggested Tim. “I don't know how much he was exposed to. He might have been checked into one of them with the other evacuees.”
“Be back in a flash.” Tim smiled, envisioning the wink that went with that phrase.
Tim pushed the driver’s side door open and got out of the car, eager to feel the cold air on his skin. He had driven far enough that there was no longer snow on the ground, but the temperatures towards the bottom on the mountain range were still chilly enough to require a durable jacket.
There was a gust of wind that was strong that the ones that had been blowing against the back of Tim’s neck just a minute ago. He almost dismissed it until he heard the snap of branches underfoot.
Tim turned and stared at the two figures that stood before him, one of whom was sagging sideways into the speedster. Tim’s breath caught. “Jason.”
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