#damian? feel like the obvious choice is something with WE but i do like the thought of him as a vet can’t lie | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ashiemochi · 1 year

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anubussy - ix

✠ Anubussy ↳ sorry, i don't want your touch ↳↳ it's not that i don't want you

➶ pairing: OC x Leon S(exy) Kennedy. ➶ genre: fluff, more angst, gore, longer smut/suggestive themes ➶ word count: no

NOTE: ✠ = time skip ✠✠ = switching povs/characters

prev -> next

“Gifts from the BSAA!” Nadia yelled over the loudness of the propellers when the raft opened, “They said that’s the best they can do for us for now!”

So Ah squinted at the rushing wind, seeing a military car and a Ducati X Diavel motorbike.

Internally, she wanted the BSAA to take their gifts and shove them up their corrupted ass. Externally though, she felt a sense of nostalgia hit her – especially when Leon visibly beamed at the sight of the bike.

Leon turned to face Chris, exclaiming, “Dibs on the bike!”

And really, it wasn’t much of a choice.

Chris and Leon jogged down the raft to the vehicles. So Ah holstered her gun and went to follow but a voice stopped her.

“You be safe, okay?” Nadia asked, giving her a knowing look.

Of course, all So Ah did was look like she was one foot away from an ER – she didn’t know it was that obvious.

So Ah gave her a small smile and a nod, “You too.”

With that, she rushed up to Chris as Leon swung his leg over the bike’s seat. Chris looked down at her.

“You good to go?”

“Yes, sir.” So Ah said and she looked over at Damian jogging up to them, “Shotgun!”

Damian blinked, letting out an exaggerated groan, “Oh, come on! You had shotgun last time! Chris, tell her!”

Chris chuckled, opening the driver’s door, “Sorry, guess you gotta be faster.”

“Than her?” Damian gestured at the girl skipping to the passenger seat, “Of course, you would say that.”

Chris gave him a light-hearted glare, “What is that supposed to mean?”

So Ah snorted to herself at their bickering, turning her head to look at Leon. He was already gazing at her. His lips were parted, looking like he was about to say something.

Not the time.

Hurriedly as if avoiding a high school crush in the halls, she got into the car. Leon’s shoulders deflated a little at this, looking back ahead. He couldn’t help but grip the handle. It squeaked uncomfortably against his leather gloves.

Why was it so difficult?

The more they’d talk, the farther they seem. Just two separate houses in a suburban part of Los Angeles – a neighbourhood’s lady across from them and a quaint coffee shop just outside the region.

It took days upon days to connect, only realizing their feelings for one another after months. Then they went down different roads for a while – only to return to one another like a magnet.

Was this how it was going to go for him again?

Wait?

Chris shut the door and looked at So Ah when Damian had to run back to the Osprey, having forgotten something. She was looking at her hands, thumb caressing the subtle bump of her ring from beneath her glove.

Chris asked, breaking the silence in the car, “Are you planning on telling him anytime soon?”

“I’m scared of how he’ll react.” So Ah muttered, not once looking up.

“Sure, it’s been kept a secret for too long.” He mused, snapping his eyes to the back of Leon’s form, “I’d be surprised if he isn’t mad about it.”

She stayed quiet and he looked back at her, “You still have a chance, So Ah.”

She sighed heavily, leaning against her seat as she trailed her eyes out of the window, arms folded, “I don’t know about that…”

It was clear she didn’t want to talk about it.

Chris saw Damian jogging up to them and turned the ignition on, giving her a firm look, “You won’t know till you talk to him.”

“Alright!” Damian hopped into the backseat, “Let’s get this show on the road!”

With a roar of the motor, Leon and Chris shared a curt nod – and they headed off.

✠

“Once the tankers are down, rendezvous at Arias’ place.” Chris ordered through the earpiece, “Depending on the situation, we might have to put Rebecca on hold until we find that vaccine.”

So Ah gripped her seatbelt for her life when the car hovered off the ground for a moment when Chris rode them over the slight bump of the road.

And she thought Leon’s driving skills could make food jump up to her throat.

“Got it!” Leon affirmed, his voice echoing into their intercom.

“Why didn’t I drive?” So Ah mumbled, breath hitching at another bump.

“Because I’m the captain.” Chris said, casting her a teasing look.

“I’m good with maps. I can locate those trucks easily.” She reasoned, earning a chuckle as he turned a sharp corner, making her gasp.

“So can a GPS.”

The car slowly came to a halt and Leon stopped next to it, pushing the stand down. The tanker was at the other block along with a black truck behind it. She assumed those trucks were to defend the tanker.

So Ah tilted her head to take a peek at Leon, practically infatuation in her doe eyes. He always looked unbelievably attractive on a bike. She wondered what happened to his first Ducati – maybe this new one would end up in his garage.

Or… A peace offering?

Her bank account wasn't restricted or anything – she only never touched her card just in case the BSAA don't trace it back and fuck her off with a surprise visit.

“Close your mouth, So Ah,” Damian snickered, “You’re drooling.”

So Ah snapped her eyes over at him, red rushing up her neck and reaching her cheeks. Leon raised a brow at her and she quickly leaned back into her seat, sinking down. A faint chuckle reached her ears but she didn’t know from who. It was distant; that was all she knew.

And it was enough to bite into the inner part of her bottom lip.

“내 거시기나 먹어, 데미안.” She mumbled under her breath, giving him a side glare but he only snorted.

“English, Mija.”

“아니.”

“Look at her! She’s turnin’ redder than a rose!” Damian laughed, jabbing his thumb at her.

She snapped, growing flustered, “I’ll show you red if you don’t shut up.”

“There you go! English!”

“So help me god–”

“Would you two knock it off?” Chris shook his head with a sigh, looking out at Leon, “Could’ve taken one of them with you. Save me the babysitter work.”

“I would,” Leon huffed, the corner of his lip twitching upward, “Maybe next time.”

Chris chuckled, glancing over at the tanker in the distance and then at him, “Well, you ready to rock?”

“Are you kidding?” He returned the question, rhetorically.

With a rough exhale, “Let’s do this.”

Leon kicked the stand, going first. As he approached the tanker, he took out the hand grenade from his belt and bit into the pin, yanking it off. Tossing the grenade, it clanked under the tanker.

A faint sound came from So Ah at the explosion, setting the whole tanker ablaze – well, Rebecca’s right. The virus was flammable.

Chris stopped the car behind the trunk just as a man jumped out and Damian was the first one out of the car. He shot the man before he could react.

So Ah hopped out along with Chris, rounding the car to be nearby. Automatically, her eyes went to Leon, finding his were on hers as if silently checking on one another. He had one hand on the grip, keeping one foot flat on the ground instead of using the stand.

So Ah had her gun out, holding it with both hands, before she jumped at the sudden thumping from the truck’s trunk, sending her to aim at it. Similarly, Chris and Damian did the same.

The whole truck was shaking from side to side with each thumping, followed by faint growling. So Ah didn’t move, uneasiness sticking her to the ground. One of the many reasons why she preferred long-range weapons was the safety of being far.

Damian moved ahead, keeping his aim up in an alarmed way but anyone could see he was unsettled by the animalistic sounds from inside the vehicle. He reached out for the handle to open it but the doors slammed wide open before he could.

He let out a gasp when two rabid dogs jumped out. He quickly recovered but one of the dogs was too close, pouncing on him and ripping his head off – literally.

The sight made So Ah freeze, eyes snapping wide open and all she could hear were the loud pounding in her ears. The dogs were Dobermans but they were infected as well – it was clear the vaccine wouldn’t work on them.

With their flesh falling apart, showing bits of muscles and bones, and their clouded eyes – they were too far gone.

“Damian!” Chris shouted out to his fallen comrade and friend.

A gargled bark came from right next to So Ah, causing her to yelp and back away from the rotting dog, bumping into the hood of the truck. Just the sound of fear in her voice made Leon’s hand hover over his gun instinctively, almost getting off his bike in the process but Chris was closest.

“Shit!” He cursed, shooting the dog but it ran around, easily dodging all the bullets.

“Damn it,” Chris hissed when he realized he was wasting his bullets, watching the two dogs snarl and get nearer, and he asked aloud, “Any Ideas?”

“I’ll lead the dogs away. You go blow up some more tankers.” Leon suggested, setting his hands onto the grip, “Good?”

“Yeah…” Chris spoke with a faint growl, slowly making his way to the hood of the car whilst keeping his aim on the dogs.

So Ah instantly grew afraid, her cinnamons glancing over at Leon with her gun on the Dobermens, concerned. Any day could be your last with missions like these. She had to hope that they’d make it out alive – but the need to say something was strong.

“Leon,” She called out to him, catching his attention.

Leon looked at her with furrowed brows and a slightly impatient look on his face. She looked like that day when she apologized for snapping at him; small and anxious. Her lips parted but nothing came out, yet he read her hesitant eyes.

She was holding something back.

Tongue-tied, she didn’t say anything, her stomach hurting at the thought of even telling him.

“Please, be careful.” So Ah managed to utter quietly, chest heaving.

Leon’s tough exterior faltered only a little, noticing the fear in her eyes, “Always.”

The Ducati roared loudly when he revved it up, taking the dogs’ attention away from the Han girl and the BSAA operator.

“Here, boy!” Leon urged with each rev as if he was going to play catch, “C’mon!”

The tires squealed when he launched off, nearly bumping into the dogs who jumped away before running after him. They were surprisingly keeping up with the speed of the bike.

Chris slowly made his way to Damian’s body, So Ah trailing close behind when he knelt down. He hated when he loses his teammates. He’d always think he failed as their captain. Just another soul to all the lives he wished he had saved.

Holding back her tears, So Ah set a hand on his shoulder, softly whispering, “Chris, we have to go.”

“I know.” Chris muttered back, clearly trying not to let his emotions get in the way of his mission.

“Do you want me to drive?” She offered, “I know where the tankers are and–”

“No,” He sniffled once, standing up and shaking his head, “We’re heading straight to Arias.”

She blinked at that, “But the plan–”

“DC and Nadia can handle it,” Chris said, making his way back to the car, visibly furious, “Let’s go.”

So Ah spent no second running back to the passenger side, “Yes, captain.”

The vehicle trembled lightly when Chris slammed the door shut and she put on her seatbelt. Not even a minute after entering the car, Chris slammed the gas and she felt herself being pushed back against her seat.

The world outside the car was a blur of orange and red with the sun setting on the horizon. Any passing car was moving aside for the speeding military one. As the car was zooming down the highway, So Ah couldn’t help but pick up on the two burning cars on top of one another with a dog’s rotten head poking out from underneath.

Her lips parted as she looked around for any sight of her husband but found a highway sign toppled down with bullet holes through it. It looked as if it was charred by an explosion and she noticed the bits and pieces of flesh scattered on and about.

That must’ve been the other dog.

She leaned back against her seat, pressing her lips into a thin line to try and stay calm. Her hands were tight around her seatbelt, internally praying for his safety as the rough fabric dug into her palms. Her gloves rested on her lap, having been removed due to her sweaty palms.

She wouldn’t even know what she’d do to herself if something were to happen to him.

Her eyes trailed down to her ring.

Please be okay…

#canon x oc #oc x canon #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil vendetta #leon s kennedy #resident evil #leon kennedy #resident evil fandom #leon kennedy imagines #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy x reader smut #leon scott kennedy #leon scott kennedy smut #oc x leon kennedy

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bi-bats · 8 months

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11, 14, 39, 55, and 67 for the ask list?

(manifesting that zeus transcends his mortal state and becomes physically invincible btw, hope things get better <3)

Jpeg my BELOVED HELLO 💖💚💕 your wishes were well received by both me and the Zeus, who is currently batting my feet for food and hasn't puked in three days and has been finishing all of his foods! I appreciate the positivity from you and from everyone, and brb gonna go feed him

okay I'm back and here we go!!!

11. Link your three favorite fics right now

Reading Him by @chipmunkery - yes AGAIN OKAY EVERYONE READ IT I'M LITERALLY BEGGING YOU PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE READ IT I KNOW JAYBART IS NOT AN OBVIOUS SHIP BUT PLEASE JUST TRUST ME IT WORKS ALSO I GIGGLE ABOUT ONE OF THE LINES LIKE. 5 TIMES A DAY IT'S SO GOOD AND JPEG YOU SPECIFICALLY WILL LOVE THE BART REP IN THIS I PROMISE!!

The Detente series by MsSolo - I binge read like more than half of this entire series in one day and then I had to take a break because Damian and Tim and the DamiTim in this is so deeply unwell that it was making ME unwell okay I had to pause because it was ruining me and I really really want to finish it because I can't stop thinking about it, it has so so so many lines that just fucking HIT and they hit ME IN A DEEPLY PERSONAL WAY BUT IT'S SO GOOD I HAVE TO FINISH IT AKSDJFLAKJDFKSL (also honorary mention to their fic People Ruin Beautiful Things, if you can handle Ra's/Tim you should read that but lemme tell you if you think Tim is unwell in Detente?? Woof. Like. Trigger warning on Tim in the Ra's/Tim one. He is beyond deeply unwell in this)

Revelations and Heartbreaks by Xavierurban (@atasteforsuicidal) - okay yeah it's jaytim smut BUT it's also incredibly beautiful in the way that it's written and the exploration of trust in their relationship and also the two of them and their devotion to each other is just *mwah* literally perfect, it makes me auruhahruahrgargagrgarhaurarhuahruahr I think about this fic so often. Read it 💖

14. how do you write emotional scenes? Do you ever feel what the characters feel? Do you draw from personal experiences?

I start with a clear idea of the conversation at the beginning and where the conversation is going to progress the story, and where each character is at emotionally. Then I have a few moments of inspiration on dialogue that I know I need somewhere in the scene, and then I start moving through the scene in order. I start working through the emotional shifts, I let the feelings grow or shrink or snap into place, and I usually am guided by what each character wants. It's always important to me that I know what each character feels at the start of the scene, what they want, and what they're afraid of.

I wouldn't say I feel what they feel exactly. I put myself in their shoes and think about what they're feeling, and I feel for them, but I don't actually feel upset if they're upset, etc. I definitely draw from personal experience sometimes, but not always. I do it the most with Tim for sure!

39. Share a snippet from a WIP

Smut? Smut snippet? Smut snippet for Jpeg?

“You liked when I said you were good, didn’t you?” A breathy moan is the only answer he can give. “You just want someone to take the reins for a little bit, huh? Just make everything else go away.”

(from the DamiTim fic ofc)

55. Of the characters you write for, which is your favorite? Has that choice been swayed at all by your followers/readers’ reactions to certain ones?

Okay, for the last two years I definitely would have said Tim because he just comes so naturally to me and people really respond so kindly to the way I write him, but currently my favorite is definitely Damian. There is something about writing him specifically for me that lets me access a very poetic voice that I just wouldn't use when it comes to Tim or Jason, and I really love the way his voice comes out when I write it.

Also maybe I just need a little break from writing Tim since I've posted over 200k words from his perspective in the last yearish okay

67. Do you prefer prompts and challenges, or completely independent ideas?

I actually don't really have a preference!! I preferred prompts when I didn't have any ideas and was worried I would never have anything to write ever again after Rooftops & Bookshops, and then. well. you saw the ask where I listed my wips the other day right? lol yeah now I don't prefer one over the other!

Thank you for the ask bestie 💖💖💖💖

#📷 jpeg #batsasks #please don't ask me how many times I've visited revelations and heartaches on ao3 #it's too many #batwrites #reverse robins au damitim flavor

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daedalusdavinci · 2 years

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❝ you need someone. let me be that person. let me be what you need. ❞ 😳

you didnt send a dealers choice so im (spins wheel) going w damijon. which i wouldnt normally write bc i havent read enuff comics and etc but i got an idea vis a vis aro damian and the incomprehensible yearning of queer platonic attraction and it wont stop scratching at my head so HOPEFULLY THIS DOESNT SUCK also this is probably when theyre older idk im playing it fast and loose w the timeline here

send me a prompt!

Damian had thought he'd read all of the signs right. The answer was plain. Once again, he was the only person capable of thinking rationally about things that were ridiculously simple. After too long of listening to Jon complain, he presented the solution to him after another long night, their backs pressed against the cold concrete wall of a rooftop stairwell, Jon's shoulder like a fire against his own. "You need someone. Then let me be that person. Let me be what you need."

He expected a relieved grin, perhaps. Praise for his brilliance, certainly. Likely a tease to pad Jon's no doubt bruised ego at being unable to come up with something so simple himself.

Instead, Jon stared at him. He looked at Damian like he'd heard gibberish instead of words, and was trying to parse through it. The smile he gave him was hesitant, awkward. "What?"

Damian sighed. "You keep complaining that you feel alone. That you want someone who ties you down. I do not see why that cannot fall under one of my many roles as your best friend."

"Oh." The relief didn't come. Instead, Jon just looked awkward. He rubbed at the back of his neck, his eyes skittering away from Damian's. Not that Damian ever made eye contact, but the way Jon did it made it obvious that he wasn't looking at Damian anymore. His mouth opened, and then closed again.

Damian frowned. "What is it?"

Jon hesitated. Then he shifted, planting his feet more firmly on the ground like he was gearing up for something big, moving his hands between his knees to gesture. "Look, D... I think you might've misunderstood? It's not that I don't appreciate you! I mean, your friendship means the world to me. But I was talking about, like... what my mom means for my dad, you know?"

"No."

Jon blew out a breath, his bangs ruffling in the wind. "A partner."

"We are partners."

"Not that kind."

Slowly, it started to click. Something in Damian's stomach churned. "You mean a romantic partner."

"Yeah."

Damian didn't know why it felt like his heart was sinking. He frowned to himself, turning over his thoughts, trying to examine why he felt upset by this revelation. It wasn't as though he... had something against Jon having a partner, or wanted... something like that, with Jon. But disappointment still nagged at him, burning in the back of his throat. He fought to keep it from turning into something sharp, folding his arms over his knees and swallowing the impulse until he felt like he could talk. "Why?"

Jon gave him a strange look again. "Why?"

"Why does romance feel so essential? What's missing from this? Is it not better to forge friendships, which supposedly last lifetimes?"

"Love can, too."

Damian scoffed. "As if love cannot take platonic forms. As if the platonic is, somehow, worth less, or not as necessary to living a fulfilling life."

"Of course it isn't," said Jon, surprised. "It's just different."

"How. What is the void that platonic affection leaves behind?" Damian's voice was flat. Irritation bubbled under his skin, even despite the way he tried to push it back. In his head, he knew that it wasn't a proportional reaction, but something about it just stung. The idea that he wasn't enough, somehow, that he couldn't provide something, that someone else could become more important to him, maybe? He knew, logically, that Jon would never do any of that to him, but he also had seen enough people do it that it seemed hard to believe that he wouldn't.

Jon was quiet for some time, studying his face like he might find an answer somewhere in it. The way he looked at him, like he didn't understand what had come over Damian, itched at something horrible in the back of Damian's mind. "Damian..." he started.

Damian shook his head. He could feel clearly that he wasn't responding to this correctly. If he continued, he would doubtlessly say something he'd regret- assuming he hadn't already. He got to his feet, unhooking his grappling hook from his belt. "It's late."

Jon sighed. Then he plastered on a smile, grabbing Damian's hand as Damian offered it out. "Yeah. We can talk more later." The threat of it hung. They would talk more later.

Damian felt queasy. He could only hope that, before then, he sorted out whatever was wrong with him.

#damijon #damian wayne #damian al ghul #jon kent #jonathan kent #my fics #tumblr drabbles #asks

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karlyanalora · 2 years

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Dead on Your Feet

Read on AO3

Once upon a time, there was a little boy that was taught weakness was unacceptable, and limits were made to be broken. The little boy’s new family tried to teach him differently, but some things are harder to unlearn than others. Especially when the greater good is placed on a pedestal.

It had been one crisis after another, all hands on deck. Yes, Father had sent him to bed many times, but Damian knew there was more he could be doing, so he did it. But things had finally calmed down, and Damian needed only to complete this last patrol before he could sleep. He knew the others were exhausted as well, that there was no point in his complaining and asking to shirk this responsibility. It had been his choice to forgo sleep when it was offered, and he would deal with the consequences.

Father had been wounded and was unable to patrol, so Grayson had volunteered to assist Damian tonight. He does not seem pleased, undoubtedly wishing he could be in his own bed at the moment. Damian himself was nearly overcome with the urge to sleep until the next world-ending crisis, but he could do this. He had to.

He was standing on the rooftop when it happened, a feeling like bursting out of the water after a deep dive, and after it passed, he realized he’d just missed what Grayson had been saying. He took a deep breath and tried to focus on what Grayson was still saying.

“-so we need to keep an eye out for him.”

Damian nodded. “Of course.”

Grayson nodded and leaped to the next roof, grapple flying and carrying him smoothly over. Damian was horrified to find he stumbled a bit with firing his, and while he stuck the landing, it hurt a bit. A few minutes later, they spied a thief fleeing a corner store with his ill-gotten goods. Robin chased after him doggedly in an undeviating straight line, ignoring Nightwing’s instructions until the older man dropped on top of the thief from a nearby roof, and it became blatantly obvious that the less direct path of pursuit was far more effective.

“You don’t have to do this alone, Robin,” Nightwing chided. “Teamwork makes the dreamwork,” he added sarcastically.

“I had him,” Damian snapped. Was his weakness really so apparent? But no, he could have done it. Surely Grayson had more faith in him.

Whatever Grayson was going to say next was cut off by the distant sound of sirens and the smell of smoke. Instinct had them both running toward the fire, to see if they could help, to free anyone who might be trapped inside who would be dead before the firefighters arrived. And, of course, there was a child inside. Damian could just make out the silhouette of them through a window. Nightwing was yelling for Robin to stop, but that was because he underestimated him and didn’t believe in him. Damian crashed through the window, but Grayson tackled him from behind, dragging him back out again. Damian fought back, desperately trying to explain there was a child to be saved, but none of the words came out right. He barely managed to hook his arm around the child’s waist before he was falling. The line of the grapple went taught a second later. The trip wasn’t a fun ride.

That feeling of emerging from a deep dive happened again, and Grayson was yelling when Damian’s senses returned. “-ran into a burning building to save a lamp. What is wrong with you?” Grayson’s anger was a fierce thing, and with shame, Damian realized that the “child” he had been trying to save was indeed a bedside lamp.

He could feel his eyelids drooping, and if they closed, he knew it would be game over. He had to keep moving, but Grayson’s hands were on his shoulders, tight as irons. Damian tried desperately to shake him off. “Nothing!” he snapped. “Now let go of me.”

Grayson does not, instead eyeing him up and down, searching for something. Damian blinked and found himself boneless against Grayson’s chest, his brother’s voice loud in his ears and dragging him out of unconsciousness.

“Did you hit your head? Drugged? Poisoned?”

“No, no, no.” Damian slurred, fighting to finish waking up. The silence above him stretched on for eternity as he tried to pull away once more.

“Robin, you’re hallucinating, and your speech is slurred. If it’s not any of those things, what is it?”

“I am not…” why couldn’t he remember the word? “Seeing things.”

“I’m calling the Batmobile.”

The drive back to the Cave was rather tense, or at least the two minutes Damian could remember of it before Grayson was flicking him in the face.

“Stay awake, Robin. We need to figure out what’s wrong with you.”

How about everything? Damian wracked his brain. Had he been drugged? He was too tired to trust his memory at this point. Why was he so tired?

Grayson was shaking him, and he sounded angry. “Stay awake, Robin; that’s an order.”

It was a good thing the Batmobile was on autopilot because Grayson wouldn’t have been able to do much driving. Damian tried, he really did, but it took both their full efforts to keep him awake. At last, they pulled into the Cave, but Damian was starting to panic now. This mysterious drug had turned his bones to jelly, and Grayson had to carry him from the car to the medbay where Alfred and Father were waiting. Test after test came back negative, and Damian could feel his panic rising.

“There has to be something,” Grayson said. Was he going to die or be crippled for life, Damian wondered.

“Oh, indeed there is,” Alfred said calmly, “and I feel a bit foolish for not thinking of it sooner. Master Damian, when was the last time you slept?” Damian hesitated as he struggled to come up with an answer.

Father was frowning. “I sent him to bed though.”

Grayson laughed, and Damian couldn’t label the emotion in it. “Doesn’t mean we sleep. I did this once too, you know. Stayed up three days trying to finish a paper after patrols so I could hang out with the Titans and promptly passed out in front of them.”

Father nodded. “I remember that phone call.”

Grayson hopped onto the table and pulled Damian onto his lap, resting his head over his heart. “You’re going to be ok, Dami, just go to sleep.”

How could Damian disobey with his brother's warm arms around him and gloved fingers running through his hair? He was dimly aware of Grayson adjusting his hold before the darkness took him.

---------------------------

Damian doesn’t want to wake up. He’s warm, and the hand gently running through his hair, the strong arms wrapped around him, the heartbeat beneath his ear, it was all very soothing. But something is driving him to wake up. He’s expecting Grayson when he does, not warm sunlight peeking through the drawn curtains of his father’s room or for his father to be gazing at him fondly with a soft smile on his face. Damian is lying on his chest in bed, the bed Father had been confined to by Pennyworth.

A part of Damian wanted to spring up immediately, but he lacked the strength, and he could already feel his eyelids growing heavy again. His father must have noticed because his smile was even bigger now. “Go back to sleep, Damian. It’s alright.”

The lecture would come later, Damian was sure. But for now, he would pretend the future does not exist. He closed his eyes, and a second later, all was dark bliss.

----------------------------------------------

Damian was older now, a Batman with his own Robin. Father and Grayson had been dead for years now, but he still remembered their gentleness in that memory with fondness. And maybe with a bit more understanding of how they could have missed out on the fact he hadn’t slept in three days now that Benjamin has up and done the same thing. Unfortunately, there is no series of crises that has come to an end or one last patrol before Benjamin will surrender himself to sleep. No, this is grief. Drake is gone, and Benjamin feels the loss keenly, and in a way that would have made a much younger Drake proud, he is desperately searching for ways to bring Drake back. But Tim had reason to believe Father wasn’t dead but merely lost, and Benjamin does not have that. Which is why Damian must put an end to the madness.

He sat next to his Robin, who startled but hid it quickly, and said, “I did this once too, you know. Stayed up for three days even though I’d been sent to bed several times. Ended up risking my life to save a lampshade from a fire. Not all that different from mistaking a stop sign for a firefighter.” He handed the boy an ice pack and tried for a bit of humor. “I’m sure it appreciated you trying to tackle it to the ground to avoid the falling beam even if your face didn’t.”

At least this time, Benjamin had readily identified the problem. But a thirty-minute power nap wasn’t going to cut it. Benjamin was ashamed, whether for saving a sign or being caught awake, it didn’t matter. “People come back all the time in our profession-”

Damian sighed. “But they stay dead often enough. You can’t spend your whole life waiting for them to come back or trying to drag them back. I know it’s hard, but it’s life.”

Gently, because he knew Benjamin might reject it, he drew his last brother into a carefully placed hug. Ear pressed to a beating heart, fingers running through dark hair, everything needed to lull an already exhausted boy to sleep. He hadn’t expected the tears, but he would try to make Grayson proud and roll with it.

“I miss him,” Benjamin said softly through his tears.

“I do too,” Damian admitted, “and I don’t want to lose you. This kind of behavior will get you killed. Please.”

Damian doesn’t move for a long time, watching Benjamin’s face slack in sleep and occasionally wiping away the tears that still fell. Is this how Grayson had felt about him? To know you are only brothers but love with all the fierceness of a father? Damian could feel a few tears of his own slipping out. Grayson and Father had been far from perfect, but how he missed them. He missed them all. He would die before he let Benjamin fall.

He could feel the boy stirring, trying to wake up and continue his work. Or maybe it was a nightmare. The cave was cold after all. Damian stood smoothly and made his way upstairs, climbing the sweeping staircase of Wayne Manor to Benjamin’s room. He leaned down to tuck Benjamin in, and tired eyes flickered open to gaze at him in confusion.

“Go back to sleep, Benjamin. It’s alright.”

And Benjamin believed him.

Thank you @whetstonefires for inspiring this.

#whumptober2022 #no.4 #dead on your feet #batman #fic #mentions of past character death #damian wayne #bruce wayne #dick grayson

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internalsealpanic · 3 years

Text

Sealing the Deal part 1

Summary: Always, always be nice to sea creatures but never ever accept their pelt.

A/n: A fic I’ve been meaning to write since forever. My contribution to mermay.

warning: Disgusting fluff and bad decisions

Main Masterlist

part 2

You look like you're gonna die from boredom in your little fishing boat.

Dick rolls over to where Jason was sprawled and used his momentum to push the larger seal into the water. Jason gives an undignified squawk of outrage. Dick just preens and looks smug.

You cup your hand over your mouth as you begin to laugh.

Jason glares even harder at Dick. Dick... couldn't care even less if he tried. All he can focus on is the wrinkle in the corners of your eyes. They'd been gone for so long these past few months. It felt like the first ray of sun after a long storm.

Dick claps his fins in excitement even as Jason snuffs and rolls his eyes. You clap in return but accidentally drop your fishing pole into the sea. Reaching for it, you fall into the water. Dick feels a little bad for laughing but you manage to get yourself back up into the boat safely. You sigh in defeat as your fishing pole drifts away. Dick notices for the first time that your face has grown gaunt from the last few weeks. Are you eating enough? Are you even taking care of yourself? Dick swims over to your boat as it rocks back and forth on the waves. He hops in easily and plops onto your stomach. You laugh and pet his head. It was a weak laugh so he croons at you in question.

“Sorry pup, I don’t have any food for you today. I mean I don’t even have any for me.” Despite the sweet timbre of your voice, Dick can still taste the bitter hopelessness in the statement.

He nuzzles his face into your chest. He can feel just how thin you’ve gotten. He has to do something about this.

To say Dick had been afraid of humans would be a monumental understatement. It had been around 200 years since humans had left the island and the first thing they did when they came back was hunt down selkies. Dick's parents had been two of the unlucky few who'd been hunted down.

So when Dick found himself stranded onshore because of a fin tangled in a fishing line, he thought he was a goner. And when he saw you approaching; well, he still thought he was fucked but he thought you'd at least be nicer than the adults.

Maybe if he acts cute enough you'll spare him.

Dick whimpered and he gave you the big innocent look.

You shushed him harshly. Dick flinched then you flinched and muttered apologies.

You approached him slowly. You looked around before crouching and fiddling with the line Dick had managed to get himself caught in. Carefully, you began to disentangle him. It hurt, especially when you took the hook out, but once he was free. He clapped and trilled before you shushed him again.

Dick thought that it was all over and he could just roll back into the sea until you scoop him up and swaddle him in your shirt.

After 10 minutes of your father screaming at you, he agreed to treat Dick who knew better than to snap at him. Your father was kind with gentle hands. He worked on Dick while you fed him fish. It wasn't the best fish but Dick can't complain.

After an hour or so, Dick started to wriggle and you pull him closer to your chest.

"Dad, can we keep him for a few days? He might still be sick." You plead with big eyes.

Your father glared at you then sighed. "No more than two. His wounds just need to close up, understand?"

You squealed a little. Hugging Dick tighter, you thanked your father before scampering off to find you a basin to put Dick in. You, thankfully, had the good sense to fill it with lukewarm water.

Dick lived like a king in those two days. You fed him a lot of fish much to your dad's exasperation. You kept him warm. You even read to him and sang songs to him.

Dick wanted to stay but he missed Bruce, Alfred, Damian, and maybe that new kid Jason.

On the fourth day (one of the wounds was deeper than expected), Dick was released back into the sea but he never did manage to stay away after that

Dick sets the odd little trinket down in front of Jason's sleeping form. It was something you'd caught in your net days before along with the meager amount of fish you'd managed to net. You'd busied yourself with it for days before throwing it out. Dick wasn't sure what it was; all he knew was that it was something Jason would like.

He waits semi patiently for Jason to notice it, nudging it forward a little until it touches Jason's snout and the larger seal is forced to pay attention to Dick.

"I know when I'm being bribed, Dickface." Jason says, glaring.

Dick volleys it with a wide-eyed hopeful look. He nudges the little trinket forward again. This time, instead of ignoring him, Jason rises to his full height, teeth bared. This... does not faze Dick.

"C'mon Jaaaaaaay," Dick says as if the prolonging of syllables would whittle down Jason's irritation. Jason suspects if he were less inclined to tell Dick to fuck off, it would have worked. Probably. But as it stands, Dick is responsible for ruining a very good, very rare nap for Jason and so he's on the shit list and has lost any favor privileges until further notice.

"I said no. Go away or ask Bruce."

"But Jaaaaaaay, it's just a teensy tiny favor. It won't even take an hour. Not with your skill at least."

"That kind of flattery may work on Harper and it may even work on West but I'm not an idiot about to get involved with whatever shenanigans you have planned with the human."

Dick lets out a long-suffering sigh. Jason isn't stupid enough to think that Dick has actually given up. No, the stubborn little fuck is worse than a barnacle. "You've left me no choice-"

"I have given you plenty of choices. Most of them involve minding your own goddamn business." Jason says with a little snuff.

"-I'm calling it in."

Jason narrows his eyes at Dick.

"Don't you dare. That was 5 years ago."

Dick smiles, evilly. "Unless you want the rest of the family to know about-"

"Fine! What do you want?"

Dick looks smug. Jason wants to bite his face off.

"I need you to help me catch fish."

Jason looks at him, incredulous. "Did you hit your head or something?"

"Not recently. Look, I just need you to help me catch fish for the human." Dick explains like it's the most obvious thing in the world. Contrary to what Dick seems to think, Jason really isn't concerned with the one human on the island. Most of the selkies on the island have barely even interacted with you outside of staring at you.

"You're insane."

"I think we reserve that term for Bruce."

Jason raises his head from the ground. "You're not wrong."

You think you hear the light pitter-patter of raindrops. You sigh. You would be lying if you say you aren't the least bit thankful for the excuse to stay indoors today. You... don't exactly like foraging for food. You had avoided it for as long as you had food in the lighthouse. You thought it would at least last you 'til the ships came in but whatever is going on in the mainland has kept the ships from your shores. You don't mind. You never did find the sailors all that pleasant on the rare occasions that you did have to interact with them.

You like your island the way it is but... you're not exactly the most skilled at hunting... or fishing. You have no idea how your father did it. You chucked it up to the miracles of loaves and fishes. You miss him.

You curl around your pillow in a vain attempt to chase the wakefulness away but the sun in your eyes was too bright. You flutter your eyes open. The sun had the audacity to be there. Still the splushing sound continued.

You strain your ears to listen, trying to make heads or tails of it. It was a squishy sound, the sound of putty hitting stone over and over again. You scramble to the front door. In hindsight, you probably should have grabbed a weapon before running towards the strange sound.

Opening the door, you're greeted with the sight of a familiar seal caught red-handed with a fish in his mouth.

You stare at each other for a long moment before your eyes wander down to a pile of fish. A large amount of fish. Laughter rolls from your lips, musical and manic as you bury your face in your hands.

You think the seal furrows his brow at you, dropping the fish in its mouth before plopping towards you. Plop. Plop. Plop. He looks at you with big dark eyes. Your mouth twitches between curling down into a frown and a smile that spread across your face. On one hand, you are confused. On the other hand, you were gonna be able eat some meat.

A concerned croon comes from the pup and your face decides that it would rather smile at the moment. You throw your arms around him, not at all caring about the seawater getting on your nightclothes.

"Thank you." You whisper and the seal answers with a happy trill.

Dick is over the moon.

He can't even help how loud his trills get. It's ok you don't seem to mind either. He's just happy that you get to eat now.... but you don't.

Dick's a little frustrated when you don't immediately start digging in. Instead, you go back inside your home, swear, shout in delight then come back out with a basin and a jar of white powder. You then run around to fill the basin with seawater then add what Dick finds out is salt into the seawater.

Dick is... concerned.

You go back inside the house. When you come out again, you have a knife in your hand. Dick waddles back a bit. He knows you won't hurt him but it's a habit. You develop these kinds of habits around Bruce.

You settle yourself onto the ground cross-legged and grab a fish. Dick looks on with mild curiosity. You begin to dismember the fish by cutting off it's head, cutting it up in the middle then removing the bones and stomach. That kind of makes sense, Dick thinks. The bones are kind of annoying. Dick nods his head agreeably until you toss the fish into the basin.

Dick looks on in utter confusion as you repeat the process with most of the fish he's brought you.

You turn to him looking equally befuddled before your eyes soften. You look sheepish. "Sorry pup, I can't eat all of this today so I'm salting them so I can eat them the next few..." You count the fish in the basin. "... weeks."

Dick tilts his head but doesn't say anything. You really should just eat more. Dick can get you more if you need it. You just need to ask but you seem content with what you're doing.

Dick is about to rest his head on your lap when you shoot up and scuttle back inside. You return with a line and a smile. Dick watches you string the fish up like laundry. He could probably help you but he has no clue if he should. Just eat the fish damn it.

Finally after what felt like forever, you start preparing the fish and actually eat. You offer Dick some and Dick has to admit cooking the fish does taste odd but not unpleasant. It's totally different from eating it raw (the better way) but it's not horrible. Or maybe it just tastes good because you've got the biggest grin on your face while eating.

Maybe.

Probably, Dick thinks as he munches on his fish, pressed to your side.

___

You sing at the top of your voice. It's a cheerful song but Dick can't quite make out the words. He knows it's human but he's not quite familiar with it. The tune is nice though. Dick rests his head on your lap closing his eyes.

He croons happily when you being to pet him.

You stop midway through the song dissolving into a fit, of what Dick can only describe as, giggles snorts. It was a despicably adorable sound that was engineered to make Dick feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside.

He looks up at you with big curious black eyes. He's not complaining but he hasn't heard you laugh this much before and he may or may not want to know how to make you laugh like this again.

When you don't answer his questioning gaze, Dick nudges against your chest. Your shoulders are still shaking but you manage to stop laughing for a moment.

"Sorry pup," you say wiping a tear from your eye, "I must look crazy to you. "

A little but not as bad as Bruce, Dick thinks. Bruce thinks you humans still don't know there are selkies on the island. Dick snorts at the idea. Everyone knows that all you humans know about selkies. That's why those men keep coming here trying to trap them.

You squish his face affectionately with your hands. "My dad taught me that song and I just realized..." Your mouth turns into a curved line of held back laughter. "...It's a sea shanty about missing being between a woman's legs." The last few words come out more as giggles than proper syllables but Dick can't enjoy that because he can feel his face warm up from the thought. He hides his face in his flippers.

You squeal, absolutely delighted with his mortification. Smiling down at him, you say: "Yanno pup, sometimes I think you understand me."

Thought process-wise, no.

Dick snuggles up to you again, blowing air out of his nose to voice his ascent. You can't just say things like that but again, you just simply seem amused by his suffering when you bend down to press a kiss to the top of his head.

Dick looks up when you pull away. No! Give him more!

Dick stretches up to return the favor, having to partially climb on your lap but only managing to boop your nose with his snout. You nuzzle your nose against his and Dick makes the happiest noise in the back of his throat.

Sometimes after wandering around you had a habit of falling asleep on the shore which Dick thought was fine until he found out that you couldn't swim. Dick being the only with brains in this duo always nudges you awake when the tide starts getting too close. Dick doubts the lapping water will wake you up before sweeping you away. After all, you managed to sleep through Tim, Kon, and Bart's rock piling contest on top of you. Dick shooed them away but even after cleaning up, you didn't wake up.

Dick sees the sailors on the shore and nudges you. You... don't even blink. You hum, content to bask in the sun as you wrap your arms around Dick. Dick huffs. He likes this but he really would prefer it if you move. Dick considers slipping from your grip and grabbing a fish to slap you with like last time.

Dick cranes his head to look at the ship again. It was far too close now, too close for you to get away without being seen by the sailors.

Dick turns you back over to your back and proceeds to body slam you with all his blubber. He winces when you make a choked noise. Dick can give you apology fish later.

"Pup, what the fuck?"

You see the ship. Your eyes widen then flicker to his injured fin. Dick had injured it when he’d been swimming by the docks and got caught in one of the old traps. You’ve done your best to help it heal but you only know so much. You’re still reading up on herbs in case it happens again.

You try in vain to push him off but he's a big loveable sack of blubber and he refuses to move. “C’mon pup, you need to move. They’ll try to catch you if they see you.” You grunt but the sack of blubber refuses to move.

You and Dick stay still as the ship draws near, neither of your chests rises or fall as the ship rocks back and forth.

The ship passes and you let your head fall back with a sigh.

Dick nuzzles his snout against your face, his whiskers tickling your face. You giggle and try to push him off. It’s useless so you let him stay there.

You both decide to take a nap on the shore with Dick huffing in your face once in a while as he snores.

You curl up on the floor in front of the fire, watching the embers flicker, flash, and fade. It's the best thing you can do to calm your fraying nerves. The storm rages outside violently as if it was trying to tear the lighthouse down brick by brick. The whole building shakes with another boom of thunder. You close your eyes and burrow under the thick blanket.

In the back of your mind, your father is chuckling. The absence of a hand on your head is disconcerting. You remind yourself that it won't come, that you'll have to learn to weather the storm alone. You sigh then tighten the blanket around you.

Tok. Tok. Tok.

You blink. The fire was dying. When had you fallen asleep?

Tok, tok, tok.

Blinking, you rub the sleep from your eyes, but the haze doesn’t lift, only growing as you watch the firelight.

Tok tok tok.

You shoot up and barrel towards the door with the frantic knocking growing louder and louder as your feet pound against the stone floor.

You run into the door in your haste. The loud thud of your body against the door causes the frantic knocks to turn into muffled shouting.

Prying yourself from the door, you open it and you don't know what you expected but this wasn't it.

Standing in front of you was a man soaked like a wet rat. You blink in confusion before pulling him inside. You run to grab him a blanket. Wait. You should probably get him a towel. No, wait. You should have gotten his name first. Fuck.

You shuffle back into the room with a towel, spare clothes, and an extra blanket. You.. what can generously be called a heart attack.

For the first time, in the soft glow of the fire, you can fully admire your guest. Not see, admire because there was a lot to admire.

The light of the fire flicking over the planes of his chest, with a light dusting of chest hair, the amber glow highlighting all the muscles of his body, framing the ripples of his toned figure. Swallowing any good sense you have, you watch the rainwater turn golden as it drips down his perfectly bronzed skin. The water cuts through valleys of muscle that could have only been handcrafted by gods. Your eyes follow the flow until... Oh.

You flush furiously, your face glowing brighter than the fire. He's- He's- Oh my god, he's naked.

You reign your eyes in. Ok, you let it linger down there a bit. Not long enough for your guest to notice. You concentrate on his face which wasn't hard to do. The man pushes his raven hair out of his face letting you fully appreciate his face. In keeping with his body, his fine boned face looked like Pygmalion himself spent hours shaping it, not satisfied until he's made the perfect face. It's handsome in an adorable way. Not intimidating. It's the kind of face you'd like to pepper with kisses. You try not to focus on his lips in case of any sinful thoughts. You just met the man. The only thing you will note is that yes, his lips do look absolutely kissable and it aggravates you.

The most striking feature however are his deep blue eyes. The kind of deep that you feel like you could drown in. The kind of depth that looked too pretty to agonize over the fact that your lungs are burning. You stare, trying to carve a perfect replica of those eyes into your mind. Those eyes... that are currently staring at you... as he steps closer... at an alarming speed.

You hold the stack of fabric in front of you like a shield. Your guest stops, looking at the stack. His face goes from concern to confusion to blinding enthusiasm. He was probably freezing.

A smile spreads on his face, the cutest dimples you've ever seen forming on his cheeks, as he accepts the stack. He thanks you and your heart leaps from your chest. Whatever chill you were experiencing from the storm was completely gone. You turn away from him, rubbing the back of your neck and mumbling a halfway point between 'no problem' and 'you're welcome'. You hope it came out as 'no welcome' instead of 'your problem'.

The man snorts and you are pretty sure which one came out. To save yourself the embarrassment, you walk to the kitchen and start preparing tea. The man thankfully occupies himself by looking at the assortment of knick-knacks you've hoarded gathered over the years. It gives you ample time to breathe.

"Do you like sugar in your tea?"

The man nods enthusiastically. You can't help but smile a little.

You sit next to him in front of the fireplace as you hand him his mug. He leans his head against your shoulder. You can feel his body radiating a comforting heat.

You two sit in silence, sipping tea and watching the fire flicker. You wanna scold him for slurping his tea. You're not exactly his mother. You don't even know his name.

You turn to him, face scrunched and about to ask him for his name when he surges forward. His lips brush against your lips as he nudges his nose against yours. You fall backward in shock and the stranger falls on top of you, his eyes still glowing bright and cool against the amber light.

There's a thrill working up your spine or is it fear? You squeeze your eyes shut and throw your arms over your face.

"Please don't hurt me." You plead barely above a whisper.

You feel the body above you lower itself on top of you. He chuckles and shakes his head. "(Y/n), you're being silly."

You open your eyes. The man is laying his body on top of you keeping you pinned down and he's... pouting at you?

"I- I don't know who you are. You can take what you want but please don't hurt me."

The pout deepens into a frown.

"(Y/n), I'm not gonna hurt you. Don't you recognize me?"

You blink. You would definitely remember someone this eye-catching. "You always sing that sea shanty to me. The one about the sailor who misses his wife's..." The stranger flushes and makes a hand gesture. Your face scrunches again. The only person you've sung that to aside from your dad is...

"Pup?!"

His frown morphs back into a pout. "I'm not even that little."

You squish his face with your hands before you let your mind wander. You think back to the scars crisscrossing his limbs and chest. "How is this possible?"

He laughs, prying your hands from his face. "I'm a selkie," He says as if that was the most obvious thing in the world. "My name is also Dick, not pup."

You stare up at him wide-eyed and stupefied. Dick snuggles against you like he always does. Somehow snuggling you in this form is better. He can hold you closer like this. You run your hand through his hair, fingers lacing through the tangles in his hair. He lets out an excited trill.

Dick might just be in heaven right now.

"I dunno how but you're somehow even prettier when I look at you in this form," Dick breathes contently. "I'm so lucky to have such a pretty wife."

You stiffen. Dick looks up at you and the confusion in your face wrenches a knife in his heart. He swallows. "That is what you meant with this, right?" Dick asks, tugging at the collar of his shirt.

Your mouth turns into various shapes trying to piece together a coherent response. It settles on the simplest one. "No."

Dick looks stricken like you'd taken a club to his head.

You reel back. "I just- I- I thought you were cold and you-"

Dick's heartaches. It's a dull ache. He thought this kind of thing would be sharp like having a hook pierce your heart.

His insides twist as he peels of you.

Your stomach sinks as you feel the cold fill your body once more. You don’t want him to go. The thought of being alone right now makes your stomach curdle. Your hands grip his shirt without meaning to. The look on his face hurts but the idea of him leaving felt unbearable. You know it's selfish but here you are begging him not to leave.

"Dick, I'm sorry... I didn't know... I-"

Thunder booms. You squeak and bury your face in his chest. You can't stand storms.

Dick smiles down at you softly. It's still pained but it's bearable.

He lays on his side and pulls you closer. He slots your face into his neck. You're still shivering even when he uses his body to shield you from the rest of the world.

You whisper another apology.

Dick shushes you, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

The sunlight floods into the room like it does every morning but the room is still cold. Your mind works to understand what's wrong with this picture. Your hand pads beside you. The space next to you is empty save for the blanket left behind.

You sniffle, gripping the sheet in your hand. You messed up, you think, pulling it to your face. For the first time in months, the tears come easily. You lay there all day because the tears won't stop.

"If you sigh one more time, I am going to rip your throat out." Jason growls not bothering to open his eyes. Why would he? Dick has been flat and mopey for the past two weeks and Jason is really starting to miss his hyperactivity.

Dick lets out another mopey sigh. Jason. Is. Going. To. Scream.

"Can't you be depressing in Roy's direction? Or Bruce's?"

Dick sighs even louder at the mention of Bruce and Jason, for once, is considering murder or at least maiming.

"She doesn't love me back."Dick sniffles and Jason really should have known this had something to do with you.

He turns to Dick. "I'm going to regret asking but how do you know that?" The sooner he sorts Dick out, the sooner he gets to sleep. "Did she tell you to go away and never come back?"

"Well no-"

It's Jason's turn to sigh. "You fucking moron, What did she even say?"

"She said she didn't know." Dick lowers his head to the sand and Jason wants to slap him with his tail.

Jason is now fully awake and very ready to throttle Dick. Or he's just cranky. "Are you telling me Bruce was right?! This day just keeps getting worse."

Something seems to click in Dick's brain. "Oh, crap Bruce is right." He mutters stupidly.

Jason will take whatever consolation he can get out of this. "She probably thought you were just some random pervert flashing her then." Jason snickers. It's petty and childish but so is interrupting a well-deserved nap.

"What?"

Jason lets out an exasperated huff through his snout. He twists his body to look at Dick with minimal effort to lift his head. "Let's see, you turned up naked at her door and then you called her your wife and nearly kissed her in what? The space of 15 minutes?"

"I got confused." Dick sputters.

"Geez, I thought West was bad but you're just a disaster," Jason chuckles, "Oh! And you made the brilliant decision to leave without explanation," Jason is having far too much fun rubbing salt in the wound. "She probably feels terrible”.

"Are you guilt-tripping me?"

"Is it working?"

"What-" Dick growls. "Well, what do you want me to do?"

"Hmmmmm, have you tried talking? Yanno the thing Bruce never does. But seriously, I can’t believe you call her your wife and then abandon her." Jason shakes his head. "And you have the audacity to call yourself the smart one."

Dick strips out of his skin and begins running towards the lighthouse... naked.

Jason debates on letting him.... he probably shouldn't.

"Dickface!" Jason calls out.

Dick doesn't stop, face crumpled in determination and his little Richard swinging wildly as he walks.

Jason is gonna die of second-hand embarrassment.

"DICKFACE!"

"What?!" Dick asks turning around his hands on his hips. Like usual, his hip tilts to the side and his foot taps as he waits expectantly for Jason to gather a mildly coherent response.

"Your little Richard..." Jason says pointing with his fin.

Dick looks down and the look of mortification on his face is satisfactory. ".... Right. Shit."

"Just steal some from her laundry."

"But she'll be pissed."

"Ok, so you would rather flash her then?"

Dick sighs and this time Jason doesn't have the urge to throttle him only because Dick is already beating his own ego into a pulp. "I hate it when you make sense."

Jason raises a brow, setting his head back down to the warm sand. "I always make sense."

Dick just cackles in response as he heads to the lighthouse.

Dick shifts his weight on the balls of his feet. He feels sick like he'd eaten one of those pickled fish you made him one time. Maybe this was a bad idea. Why did he even listen to Jason? He flips onto his hands and begins to pace. His stomach feels like it's being tossed violently by ocean currents. It feels like a shapeless lump sitting in the pit of his abdomen. Maybe you're out or maybe you never wanna see him again.

Your face had been so blown wide with shock when he had called you wife that it looked almost foreign like the suggestion had been so audacious that your face had to reconstruct itself to accommodate the shock.

Dick puts a hand to his face trying to stem the flow of thought. He was such an idiot. Why did he assume you would love him like that and why did he just leave you? Dick closes his eyes and breathes. He'll knock just once more then leave if you don't answer.

Tok. Tok. Tok.

The knocks register just above a whisper. He thinks you don't hear it.

He lets out a breath and walks away. This was stupid. He should never have come back.

Jason was right. Fuck. Dick buries his face as he walks away.

Distantly, Dick hears the squeak of rusty hinges but it's lost in the tempest of thoughts plaguing his mind, in all the little hurts from that night.

"Pup?" The sound of your voice is followed by the pounding of your feet against stand. Dick's careening to the ground before he knows it as your body collides with his.

"Pup," you sniffle into his shirt, "it is you."

Dick twist in your grip so he's facing you. Your face is buried in his shirt. He strokes your hair, wrapping an arm around you, holding you tight. "Of course, it’s me. Who else would bug you at this hour?"

Dick feels his shirt grow warm. You mumble an apology.

You look up to face Dick with half your face still buried in his shirt. You've clearly been crying based on how red and puffy your eyes are. Dick's stomach churns at the dark circles under your eyes. He feels guilt stab him in the gut. All of that combined with your generally disheveled appearance. Dick can just tell that you haven't slept well the last few days.

"Let's go inside and talk." You say, peeling yourself off of him.

Dick shakes his head, not loosening his grip on your midsection. "Let's walk around you look like you need some sun."

You flushed and put a hand to your cheek. "Do I look that bad?" You ask absently, a shy smile creeping into your features.

Dick smiles at you and pushes your hair out of your face. "Never but the weather is sunny for once and we both need some air."

"So you really didn't know that the island was filled with selkies?" Dick asks, adjusting the infernal scarf you had forced him into. He insisted that he didn't need it. He could just cuddle up to you for warmth but you were equally stubborn about him wearing a coat and the wool monstrosity strangling him.

Your face scrunches up in confusion." I- I don't even know what that is."

Dick stops.

You slow down upon realizing he wasn't by your side anymore. "You... don't know what a selkie is?" He asks, his face the definition of dumbstruck.

You shrink into your coat." My dad wasn't interested in things like that," you shrug, "I dunno much about..." Your hand twists in a circle, reaching for the right words.

Dick tilts his head. That made sense. "You thought we were all just seals?"

You nod slowly, looking like you wanna shrivel up.

Dick starts laughing and you look like you're a second away from throwing yourself into the water.

"I'm sorry," he says, flailing. He's screwing this up again. He breathes to collect himself. "I just thought it's funny that we all thought my dad was wrong about you guys not knowing."

You rub the back of your neck. "Most of us mainlanders don't really believe in magic, yanno? It's just such a foreign concept. Kind of hard to wrap my head around it."

"I get that." The smile on his face makes your gut twist. You fiddle with your hands.

"So what are selkies?"

Dick tilts his head, not exactly sure of how to word it because how do you explain something that's been obvious to you since you can remember to someone who just found out about it a few weeks ago?

"We're fae, I guess-" Your face twists in confusion.

Dick needs to backtrack. "We're fae..." This is hard. "We have this human form and we have our seal forms. We switch between them using our pelt."

Your brow knits in confusion. "Which one is your true form then?"

Dick wraps his arm around your waist and holds you closer as you walk along the cliff tops. He hums as he thinks. "Both?"

You look up at him with a weary smile. “That makes sense in a way.” You hum. Swallowing thickly, you fiddle with your hands. "So what was with the... um..." You clear your throat. "What was with the wife thing?"

Dick’s mouth dries. “Well... when we want to ask someone to be our mate... we- we kind of give them our pelt and I thought it translated to human clothes…” He stammers out dumbly.

“Oh...oh!” Your eyes widen into a look of horror. You open and close your mouth trying to form words. “Dick, I didn’t realize , that must have - I’m sorry I hurt you.”

“Please don’t apologize,” Dick says and presses his lips to the top of your head. His lips are warm and comforting. “I’ve spent so long in love with you my brain just didn’t...” Dick’s mouth twists. “It just didn’t do what it was supposed to.”

You would definitely laugh at that last part but you’re still seeing stars from the startling confession he just hit you with. You snuggle tighter into his embrace as you look over the sea. You don’t know how to respond. You really don’t and it frustrates you. It was all just a lot to take in all at once like you’d been tossed into the sea and you’re flailing and grasping at water.

But if nothing else, you’re at least glad that Dick is still talking to you.

“If you don't mind…” Dick says carefully, the look in his eyes determined. “Would it be alright if I try and pursue you properly?” Dick braces for a no. He’s not dumb enough to be hopeful twice but he needs to ask.

Inevitably, you freeze. You pull his arm closer to your chest. Swallowing, you ask: “you mean like a human courtship?”

He nods closing his eyes. “Yes, I want to court you.” He coughs clearing his throat.

You’re silent for what felt like the longest 30 seconds of Dick’s life. Dick cracks one eye to see you fiddling with your hair. “Uh Dick, there’s this one problem that might make that difficult…” Dick raises a brow. It wasn’t an outright rejection but it wasn’t an answer.

“I don't know how that works either.” You laugh nervously, burying your face in his arm.

“Good - then we don’t know if I’m doing it badly.” Dick beams with a blinding smile.

You twist to look at him, the corners of your mouth twitching. “That sounds like cheating.”

Dick snorts, “would you rather I court you the selkie way?”

“I mean it depends. What's the selkie way?”

“Fish.”

Dick startles when you let out a loud bark of laughter. “Fish? You’ve already done that so many times.” You giggle. Dick tries to wrangle his mind away from the fact that he can feel your lips through the thin fabric of the sweater.

“I thought it worked.” Dick sighs. He really did, but alas, miscommunication is a cruel mistress.

You lower your gaze trying to concentrate on the fraying needlework of his sweater. “Maybe it has.” You mumble low enough for a human not to hear. How unfortunate it is then that you’re dealing with a selkie.

Dick is beaming when you look up again. He nuzzles his face against yours. Dick is once again insanely, stupidly, incredibly happy.

__________________________________________________________________________

Because neither of you knew what you were doing, Dick's attempts to court you ranged from ridiculous (a literal mountain of fish that you ended up drying, giving away to the other seals, and selling to passing ships.) to ridiculously sweet (finding you handful of pearls). Dick nudged a little shell overflowing with pearls and looked up at you with liquid eyes. He could have gotten you pebbles and it would have been endearing.

It wasn't always gifts though.

Sometimes Dick would just sit quietly with you on the beach, snuggling against your leg as you scratched his stomach. You love the ways his squish vibrated as he purred.

When summer passed and it became unbearable to watch the stars outside, Dick sometimes spent nights in your lighthouse, wrapped up in your sheets or wrapped around you. It was nice having him around the house even if he was kind of a slob. You love him but he is a mess.

You made the mistake of introducing him to tea cakes and got him addicted to November Cakes specifically. As it turns out, your cute pest has a sweet tooth and will nuzzle you into submission just for another bite.

If you ever doubted that Dick was evil before, you now have proof.

During the winter, Dick insisted on staying in the lighthouse to keep you warm. You wanted to point out that you had a fireplace for a reason but it was so hard to turn down hugs from him.

And because you hadn't had the heart to clean out your father's room yet and Dick clearly preferred it, you let Dick sleep next to you on your cot. You felt a bit bad but Dick was just so happy with the arrangement that you didn't want to make him go away. Besides, it was nice to wake up to his sleeping face in the morning, all sleep rumpled and drooling.

__________________________________________________________________________

"Hey Jay, do you have a book on selkies?" Dick asks, caterpillaring on the rock Jason is sunbathing on.

Jason takes the opportunity to roll down the rock and knock Dick into the sea before saying: "No." It shall be put on record that there are no drama queens in the Wayne family.

Dick shakes off the seawater, big puppy eyes staring at Jason.

Jason glares at him. He can't even let Jason have a second of smugness. "Ask Selina."

No one really knows where Selina came from or why she stayed (well, they had their suspicions), but if you need something you can't find easily, your best bet was to ask her and hope she doesn't ask you to do anything ridiculously hard.

Dick hasn't had first hand experience but from what Bruce tells him, they're mostly silly things like recite poems or do a flip. He could do both those things. Well, depending on the poem. He gets tongue twisted sometimes. Hmmm, maybe he should ask if he can avoid tongue twisters so he won't bite his tongue.

Sloughing off his coat, Dick walks towards the glowing cauldron.

"Still no clothes pup? You're going to give a poor girl a heart attack." Selina tsked, reappearing from one of the other cave entrances with a handful of things Dick can't recognize.

"Oh... I- I'm still not used to it." He says sheepishly.

Selina chuckles, dumping the handful of what Dick can assume is plant debris into the cauldron while before dusting her hands off.

Dick stares at the thick vat. A bubble rises and bursts emitting what sounded like a human voice. "What is that? Should I be worried?"

"Oh no, no, this? This is just a little soup for colds."

"It screamed."

"All soups scream."

"I- anyway, I came here to ask if you have a book on selkies."

Selina tilts her head to the side. "I believe I do-"

"Great!"

"Buuuut..."

Of course, the price.

"I brought pearls and some seashells." He says hopefully.

The angle of her head does not change. Though from the gleam in her eyes, she's clearly interested.

"Tell me why you need the book."

Dick's thoughts halt. Should he tell Selina about you? His eyes dart to the boiling cauldron. "... Why do you need to know?"

Selina flourishes her hand. The book appears out of thin air."Do you want the book or not, pup?"

Dick's nerves pinch. Why does everyone call him that? "I need it to teach someone Selkie customs." He manages.

"Oh! The little lighthouse keeper!"

"You know her?"

Selina shrugs. "Do you really think I wouldn't know something going on about the islands nearby?" She pinches his cheek. "Oh little pup, I know about your little crush. You spend more time on land than you do in the sea these days. Dami's been all huffy about it."

He has.

"I've told you my reason." Dick says holding his hand out.

"Hnnnn, you have I suppose." Selina sighs.

Dick takes the book, putting it into a waterproof pouch before gingerly putting his pelt back on. He happily caterpillars out of the cave with the pouch in his mouth. He really hopes you'll like this.

You really should just fix up another cot for Dick at this point and maybe buy him a set of clothes when you go to town.

"It's too cold to sleep outside." Dick whines, flattening himself against you on the bed.

You lift your book to look at him. Dick just gives you that wide-eyed look when he wants something. You roll your eyes, letting him snuggle up to you. "Dick, it is obviously summer and you're like 40% blubber." You snort.

Dick pouts. "You're still gonna let me sleep here."

You scrunch your face up and sigh. "I can't exactly let you brace the summer cold, can I?" You say, running a hand through his hair.

"Eeeeeexactly." Dick says happily as snuggles into you tightly. He nuzzles his face into your neck wrapping his arms around your waist. You hum helplessly, curling into his embrace.

"See." Dick trills with a happy grin.

"Are you going to be smug about it all night?" You huff, throwing a blanket over the two of you.

"No," he says, "you assume I can't keep being smug 'til sunrise."

"Dork," you snicker, setting the book down. It was a book on selkie traditions that Dick had gotten you a few days ago. You devoured it the same night but you're reading it again and subtly testing things while Dick was invading your house. You hum, running your hand through his hair, fingernails lightly scraping against his scalp. Dick purrs against your chest. "There was a one eyed seal on the beach the other day. He was a grumpy fellow but kind of cute. Seals really are a sleepy lot. The big lug started snoozing on my lap after like 5 minutes."

Dick tense under your touch. He looks up at you seriously.

"That was a selkie." Dick deadpans.

You stop your rambling. "What?!"

"That grumpy one-eyed seal was a selkie." He repeats carefully.

Your breath stutters. "Are all of the seals on this island selkies? ALL OF THEM?" Dick is pretty sure your eyes are mounting an escape.

"All of them, darling." Dick nods.

"Oh." You are so screwed. "Do you guys all talk to each other?!" You shouldn't have told that seal about your little crush. You want the mattress to swallow you up.

"Yes? Should I be concerned?" Dick asks, lifting his head.

"No! No reason!" You squeal, shaking your head.

Dick pouts at you with suspicion. It occurs to you with some amusement that Dick is actually glaring. You wisely decide to sidestep the conversation.

"You guys love taking naps on people, huh?" You say, absently twining your fingers into Dick's hair. He settles his head against your chest. "That's just cus we like you." He hums.

A snort rips out of you. "You're just biased."

Dick looks up at you seriously again. "We selkies like pretty things like any fae." Dick says, wrapping his arms around you more tightly. He's being petty but Dick has always been protective of you and he isn't about to stop now. Besides... he doesn't want anyone stealing you away.

You frown at him. "Dick, there are far prettier things on this island and sweet talking won’t magically make November cakes appear." You huff, kissing the top of his head before picking up the book and using it to hide the smile shaping your lips.

You feel Dick pick himself up off of you. You peek over your book to watch Dick. He scoots closer to your face until the only thing separating you is the far too thin book in your hands.

"You don't believe me, do you?"

"No." You say. You don't mean it but it's the easiest thing to conjure up when Dick is this close. Your lips prickle from imagining Dick's lips against yours.

You weren't paying attention. Dick has apparently been going on a two-minute diatribe on how pretty you are and in that two minutes, Dick has managed to scoot even closer. He gently takes the book out of your hands to make sure you're paying attention. He fails to take into account the fact that his face is in fact distracting. Your eyes zero in on his very plush and very kissable lips. If you just lean forward a fraction, you could...

Your lips feel warm and soft against Dick's, the rest of his diatribe dying in the back of his throat as his eyes flutter shut. His mind might just be melting out of his ears because the only thing he can think about is how soft you are and how perfectly your lips fit against his.

"I'm sorry." You whisper shyly. You should be sorry, Dick thinks. Who told you to pull away?

You touch your fingers to your lips. Fuck, what did you just do?

"You can do it again." Please, he almost adds.

You lick your lips. Dick perks up and leans closer. His heart is going to leap out of his chest. You lean closer. Dick can feel his heart pounding against his rib cage.

You kiss Dick on the nose and pull away, hiding your lips behind your hand as you snicker. Dick scrunches his nose and blows air out of it.

"You know perfectly well what I meant." He huffs.

You lean back into your pillow, grinning at him. "I have absolutely no clue what you're on about." You say slowly, smug.

"Let me remind you then,"A grin takes over his face. Dick leans in, pressing his lips against yours. You exchange breaths as you drink in the feeling of each other's lips. Dick caresses your sides. He feels you shiver and he smiles into your lips. "That ring any bells?"

"Not really..." You say, flickering your eyes to him. "But if you try again... it might."

"Oh sweetheart, I can keep reminding you all night." Dick chuckles, winking.

Covering your face, you attempt to hide your embarrassment. You hate how easily he flusters you. "You can't just say stuff like that." You whimper.

"Why not? I'm supposed to be courting you and that includes buttering you up," Dick says, nuzzling your cheek. You're just too cute. Dick gently pries your hands away from your face. "Don't hide your face from me, Honey."

"Oh god, you're making me regret letting you court me."

"Never."

______________________________________________________________________

Dick's eyes are struggling to remain open as he watches the fire. He burrows further into the thick comforter you'd given him. It's not quite as warm as his pelt but the fabric is puffy and it has a sweet smell that makes his head swim.

Dick angles his head slightly to watch you. You've been toiling for hours and refuse to tell Dick what it is. Your back is still hunched over with your foot bouncing on the floor. Dick lets his eyes flutter shut, listening to the sound of your shuffling tools.

You glance down at the adorable mess dozing off on your sofa. You gently move his hair out of his face. He swats at you sleepily, face scrunched even as he sleeps. You sincerely wish you had Damian's talent for art or that you had one of those cameras. You really wish you could keep a picture of Dick's sleepy face. It's the cutest thing in the world.

"Hey Dickie," you whisper.

"Hmmmmm?" He groans.

"Could you hand me your pelt?"

"Sure," he moans, blindly padding around for it. You snort as he nearly falls off the sofa. After groping nearly every surface, he finally finds the pelt. "here you-"

The fur brushes your fingertips before Dick stops. Dick shoots up, nearly clipping your nose with his forehead. He's looking at you fully awake, drool still hanging off the corner of his lips."Are you sure?!"

"Hand it over coward." You smile gently at him. You try your best to fight off the excitement bubbling in your veins.

Dick is off the couch, his own excitement barely contained as his whole body vibrates with happiness. He sits up. You hold out your hand but instead of handing you his pelt, Dick drapes it over you like a wedding veil. It's thick and warm to the touch. You let your hands brush over the silken fur. You can feel magic thrumming from it. It feels like a minute current of electricity but it doesn't flow linearly. It ebbs and flows as it pleases, pulsing beneath your fingers. You burrow yourself in it.

Something warm spills in Dick's chest as he sees you wrapped up in his pelt. Dick kisses your nose. "You have now been wifed."

You twitch your nose. "You missed."

"Nope. Don't think so. Buuuuut if you show me where you want me to kiss you..."

You roll your eyes and surge forward, pressing your lips to his. Dick smiles into it, pulling you close and savoring the sensation of your lips melding together. He makes a happy trilling noise while you laugh against his lips.

"That clear enough, Dickie?" You ask, pressing your forehead against his.

"Yeah, I think I got it, wifey."

__________________________________________________________

THANKS FOR READING

Tag list: @batarella, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @idkmanicantenglish , @birdy-bat-writes, @boosyboo9206, @americasmarauders , @l-inkage, @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay, @wunderstell @hyp-oh-critical @glorified-red @ marshmallow12435 @vvipgot7be @jadedhillon

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson x you #dick grayson #dorks #seals #selkie x reader #selkie au

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itsnothappening · 2 years

Text

arranged marriage au | daminette

Word Count: +1.1k

summary: talia makes a deal with the order of the guardians - in exchange for their not-annhilation, their great guardian will be betrothed to damian.

ao3 | wattpad | masterlist | prompts

Talia’s eyes gleamed wickedly in the dark as she spied on the Guardians that had walked into the room. One of them muttered something in Mandarin to their leader.

“杨驰，我们在这里做什么? (Yang Chi, what are we doing here?)” he muttered to the man in the middle.

The gears in her mind worked as she figured out that the current leader of the Guardians had in fact, not informed them of their deal.

The leader sighed despondently and replied,“我被迫会见了他们的领导人。否则，联盟威胁要彻底消灭我们的人口. (I have been forced to meet with their leader. Otherwise, the League threatened to completely annihilate our population.)” His companions looked like they were ready to argue with him, but that was when Talia decided to make her presence known.

She jumped down from above, taking care to land correctly and smiled cruelly at the Guardians. “Guardians,” she crooned. “Welcome to the League of the Assassins.” She turned around as she took them to the meeting room. “Come.” She said. “Let us discuss our business somewhere…private.”

Once everyone was seated, she started. “Now, the League has decided that your Great Guardian shall be betrothed to the heir of the League – my son.”

The three Guardians, as expected, exploded in outrage. “No, we shall not! The girl doesn’t even know about the League. To pull her into such an unexpected and dangerous situation would be cruel.” Said one of the Guardians hotly.

Talia smirked at him. “It’s not like you have a choice really. It’s either this, or complete annihilation of your population.” The consequences of that when unspoken. There was a reason the League and the Order were enemies. The League wanted to use the miraculous for assassinations. This, of course, went against the rules of the Order.

As both groups suffered at the hands of destruction at the same time, there was no ‘taking advantage’ of it. However, the League, being more superior (in Talia’s opinion, of course) regrouped first and gained the upper hand. The three Guardians knew this. It was either the betrothal or death and misuse of the miraculous.

The leader sighed unhappily after conferring with his companions. “We agree to the terms of your deal. How do we make it final?”

Talia allowed herself a satisfactory smile.

◇─◇──◇─◇

Damian sat in his room trying to process what he had heard. He was going to get betrothed to the Great Guardian. The leader of his life-long enemies.

He could understand why Mother would do this, though. It was actually pretty obvious. She wanted to use the miraculous in his betrothed’s possession. With him being married to her, it gave Mother unlimited access to the miraculous to use for the benefit of the League.

That didn’t mean Damian had to be happy about it. As he passed the age of 10, Damian started to feel a longing to see his father. Mother felt it was unnecessary, but that didn’t stop him. He did some research in secret and figured out that his father was Bruce Wayne. Around that time as well, he started feeling uncomfortable killing people for the League for whatever reason. At first, he thought he was sick but some tests made it clear he wasn’t. Therefore, he had to assume that it was because the League wasn’t the thing for him anymore like he though before.

Perhaps he could escape with his betrothed. He should start making plans.

◇─◇──◇─◇

Marinette smiled her customer-service smile as 3 more people entered the bakery. Maman and Papa were inside baking for a big order while she manned the counter. This had been happening more an more often since Lie-la turned most of her friends against her while Adrien went on with his 'high road' rubbish.

Something struck her odd about these people though.

The trio included two men and a woman, all dressed in black. Nevertheless, she beamed at them and said, “Welcome to Tom & Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie, how can I help you today?”

A quick tug of her jacket had her looking down at Tikki, only to see her shaking her head vigorously. Before Marinette could excuse herself, one of the men kicked her temple hard and everything went black.

◇─◇──◇─◇

When she woke up, the first thing Marinette registered were the voices murmuring around her. She stiffened and then relaxed almost immediately hoping that the people around her didn’t notice she had woken up.

Unfortunately, the lack of voices made it clear they had noticed. Making a big show of getting up, Marinette slowly blinked her eyes and flexed her fingers, only to find her hands and legs completely tied up.

Merde.

This was not going to be easy. Looking around, she saw four people in the room. The same woman part of the group that kidnapped her and…three Guardians of the order?

What the actual hell was going on?

The woman smiled at her and it did not make her feel better – not that it looked comforting in the least. It looked predatory. “Ah,” she said. “Our...guest is awake.” She paused unpleasantly at guest.

Marinette opened her mouth. “What am I doing here?” she croaked, directing her question to the Guardians in the room. Right now, they were her only source of comfort since she had realized Tikki was missing from her.

The eldest – and leader, it seemed – sighed. “Great Guardian, this is Talia Al Ghul of the League of the Assassins. You would not have heard of them before because they are just like the Order – quiet and secretive – but our worst enemies. You are hear because the fall of this League and the Order occurred at the same time but the League regrouped first. The leader – the Al Ghul – has forced us to betroth you to her son – the heir.”

Marinette blinked, disorientated. That…was a lot of information to process. Giving no notice to her, the lady – Talia – spoke again. “I’m sure you noticed your…kwami has disappeared. Well, she is being used as leverage against you to make sure you do not escape. Leave and we will use our own magic to harm her. Are we clear?”

Marinette nodded her head hurriedly. She couldn’t be sure whether Talia was bluffing or not but it was best not to take a chance.

“Good,” said Talia smoothly. “Now, I am going to free you and you will meet my son and have two hours to get to know each other before the marriage.”

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remosdeerica · 3 years

Text

Batshit AU Part #1: The Bio Kids

(Yes I have actually decided to call this the Batshit AU. I already have a series of one shots [there is only one so far, lol.] called Assorted Batshit on Ao3 so I figured I'd just keep going with the name.)

I have been posting a lot of stuff to do with "my Batfamily" or "my version of events" so I figured I'd go ahead and make some long ass posts about what I would love to see in the Batfam's future but know I will never get (but that's why fanfic exists so I guess I'll live)

Now there isn't going to be any clear timeline to this because I plan to write different fics in regards to these particular chain of events and when or how things happen might change depending on the plot. But it starts with the question asked by Random Joe many posts ago:

How many kids do you have, Mr. Wayne?

Well to answer that question:

Legally: 7

Biologically: 5

Emotionally: Anyone under the age of 25 that is within a 50ft radius (I'm mostly kidding but lets be honest, it's kinda true).

Now if that math doesn't make sense to you (as most math doesn't make sense to me), fear not! I shall explain!

So Legally we have as follows: Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Cassandra Cain, Tim Drake, Duke Thomas, Damian Wayne and Helena Wayne.

These are the obvious few.

Now we get into Biologically and things get a bit more complicated. For this category we have: Damian Wayne, Terrance McGinnis, Athanasia al Ghul, Matthew McGinnis, and Helena Wayne (I put them in order of their ages and added colours if you wanna skip my ranting and get to the goods).

Now for those of you who may not be as obsessed with Batfam lore as I am; yes all of these characters are canon (in some timeline anyway) and you are welcome to google them. But just be warned that I take canon and make it my bitch so almost nothing you read about them on their wiki-pages or wherever you look for your info will really matter (besides Damian but even then I take creative liberties). But I love Easter eggs so there will be plenty of those.

Damian and Helena are pretty straightforward. We know where Damian came from and Helena is just the result of Selina and Bruce finally getting their shit together.

Terry, Matt and Athanasia are a bit more complicated.

Terry & Matt: These two cuties were the unfortunate victims of an experiment called the Batman Beyond project. A project that was put into motion by A.R.G.U.S. after Bruce "died" (was lost in time) as a way to make sure that the Batman legacy lived on (as if he doesn't already have a million children for that).

Warren and Mary Singer were lead scientists on the project but after finding out what exactly it was that A.R.G.U.S. was doing with the "failed attempts" (they were killing them) the couple stole the toddler subject BN9-12 (Terry) and infant AC7-30 (Matthew) and fled (I made the numbers up on the spot don't read too much into them). They changed their names to McGinnis and raised the boys in Gotham City (cause that was a good choice...).

Unfortunately, their old lives eventually caught up with them and Mary and Warren were killed. Terry (around 10-11yrs old) took Mattie (around 7-8yrs old) and ran, his parents having taught him some skills in case something like this ever happened. The boys lived on the streets for many months before running into Tim Drake (i.e. Batman) who later adopted them (because when faced with black haired blue eyed orphans there is only one thing for a Batman to do).

[Side note: Tim doesn't know the boy's origins at this point.]

Athanasia: After Damian's death at the hands of the Heretic, Thalia went insane (more insane?) with grief and as a result decided to have another child with the left over.... substance.... shall we call it.... that she had acquired from Bruce all those years ago. However this time she intended to keep the child safe where they couldn't be hurt by either the League or Bruce (as if Thalia wasn't the main reason Damian was dead... but whatever. I have mixed feelings about Thalia).

When Athanasia was "born" (taken from her birthing pod, as one is) Thalia locked her away Rapunzel style in a secure location. Never allowing her outside for fear that she would be discovered by Ra's spies and killed.

For 8 years Athanasia grew up in relative luxury inside her bedroom, learning history, politics math, writing, and anything else Thalia thought she needed to learn. But Thalia never taught her how to fight (haven't quite decided her reasoning for this so just go with it) and as a result Athanasia is a very quiet, gentle child (basically the opposite of what Damian was like at her age).

Thalia never told Athanasia about Bruce. Since she wasn't created with the intent of being the heir to anything, Thalia saw Athanasia as only hers and therefore deemed it unnecessary for Bruce to know of her existence.

But she did tell her of her older brother; Damian (what Thalia told her is still undecided and will probably depend on overarching plots).

The rest of Athanasia's story is still in the works but essentially Damian eventually finds her and brings her back to Gotham with him. But although she acknowledges Bruce as her father, she lives with and defers to Damian (and Jon depending on the situation) as her caretaker.

So here is Part #1 of the Batshit AU!

Next Part will probably be about Dick and Jason's child situation that I've hinted at. I'll link it once it's done. :)

#my batfamily #my version of events #Batshit AU #batfamily #batfam #bruce wayne #terry mcginnis #helena wayne #matthew mcginnis #athanasia al ghul #athanasia wayne #damian wayne #dc comics #bruce has too many kids man needs to not #this is getting out of hand bruce

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astronomoney · 3 years

Note

IDK if you're still taking requests or not, but the latest fix on D. Wayne was 😍🥰. For part 2 can you add the prompts 11 from fluff, 6 from angst and 20 from neutral pretty please?🥺🥺

Pairing: Damian Wayne x fem!reader (age 16ish)

Prompts: Prompt list ☁︎11- “Hey hey hey, it’s ok i’m here. It’s just me ok, you’re safe.” ᜊ6- “I don’t care about you anymore.” “i’m starting to think you never did.” ⚛︎20-“Please be quite, i can’t even hear myself losing my will to live.”

Summary: After the fight you had with Damian things have been tense but sometimes bottling up your emotions only make things worse (i can’t do summary’s to save my life) enemies-to-lovers because i’m a sucker for that shit

Warnings: Blood, swearing, kinda character death i guess, Damian being a dick as always, angsty teens being angsty teens

A/n: this is a part 2 but you can find part 1 here once again this took waaaay to long to write literally i could not figure out what to do but whatever because i did it and i’m proud of myself for it (Masterlist)

Word count: 3k jeez these are getting longer

Tag list: @battlenix @pleasestophoney wow look at that multiple tags

Part 1

Love and War pt2

Spending spring break in Wayne manor had its ups and downs. Ups included a huge library in the south wing, delicious homemade meals every day, and the best water pressure you’d ever experienced. The downs included 8 hours of training daily, getting lost while trying to find a bathroom, and having to spend way too much time with your arch enemy.

Technically he's not your enemy. At least he’s not supposed to be. After the fight you had last week you couldn’t be sure. You’d had fights with Damian before but this felt different. Usually after a fight he'd sulk for a few hours but then it would go back to normal, but this time it didn’t go back to normal. Damian had been avoiding you for almost 8 days.

You knew the fight ended too soon and you both had more to say but if he was going to act like a child and ignore you then you weren't going to stop him. You still had to patrol with him but it was considerably quieter. The manor was big enough for the both of you and after a few days you'd figured out his schedule and how to get around him. Tim let you train with him, so as long as you stayed on your side of the gym and Damian stayed on his you didn't have to interact with him at all.

It wasn't until the 4th day of break that you had to talk to him. Bruce had to go meet with the league for the day so training ended early. You had a couple hours before dinner and decided reading would be the best use of that time. You walked down one of the many hallways lazily dragging your hand along the wall until you reached a door. You couldn't remember exactly where you were but you were about 75% sure there was a couch in this room, so you pushed the door open.

Inside you found tall ceilings paired with dark wallpaper, a tall window with the thin white curtains pushed out of the way, and a couch. Actually it was three couches but after 4 days staying here you'd gotten used to the large number of furniture that was there for no reason.

The couches formed a square with the open side facing the window lined wall. The first two couches were empty but when you stepped farther inside the room you saw someone sitting on the third one. Of course the one room you picked to go into also happened to be the one room Damian was sitting in. He looked up from his sketchbook and immediately frowned.

There were two options in front of you. You could back out of the room and leave him be but then you'd be backing down from something that might not even turn into a fight which made you seem weak so really you were left with only one choice. You straighten your back and closed the door behind you, officially leaving you in a room alone with Damian for the first time since the fight. You walked over to the couch facing the windows head on and sat down on the side farthest from him. He watched you the whole time but you paid him no attention, instead you simply opened your book and began reading.

You felt his eyes leave your form and you let out a quiet breath. You heard a page turn and a pencil being dragged lightly across paper. It had been over a week but nothing seemed to be getting better between you and him. Patrols were a nightmare beforehand but now that he'd switched from constant criticism to almost no comments you found that you preferred the former.

Damian's pencil against the paper was the only sound in the room and yet the silence seemed so loud. You hated it. You hated having to avoid him all the time. You hated not being able to talk to him anymore. You hated how far away he felt even when he was right next to you. Above all you hated that you didn't hate him as much as you used to.

You never realized how much you talked to him until you didn't. It was a weird feeling to miss someone when you hadn't even known you cared about them. You honestly just wanted to apologize and let things get back to normal but as you sat there staring at your book you couldn't bring yourself to say anything.

After three to many nightmares where Damian got hurt, you finally realized how badly you needed him back. So you took a deep breath, swallowed your pride, opened your mouth, and prayed to god that something would come out.

"Look-"

"Damian-" you both spoke at the same time. "Sorry, you go first." You apologized.

"No you can go first." He replied almost nervously. That couldn't be right, he never got nervous.

"Uh I was just going to say, well i've been thinking lately,"

"You?" He asked sarcastically.

"Oh haha really funny. Will you just listen for a goddamn second." He was not making this easy. "I know we haven't been talking much ever since, well you know and uhh." You couldn't find the right way to word it. You were still too stubborn to outright apologize but you knew he would never say sorry unprompted. "You've just seemed... off, lately and if it has something to do with me-"

"It doesn't." He cut you off. "I'm not 'off' and even if I was you definitely wouldn't be the cause." His expression was blank but calculated.

"Well jeez you don't have to be so rude about it." You sneered back at him. "What were you trying to say anyway." So much for your apology.

"I've convinced father to change our partners." His voice was flat and he seemed bored with the conversation.

"You what?" You stood up. You couldn't believe he actually did that without talking to you first.

He stood up as well and was a few inches higher than you. "We don't work well together, you can't tell me you don't agree."

"I don't! We've been a great team! Remember the Penguin pen raid or Mr Freeze's death ray thingy." you exaggerated your point by waving our hands through the air. "We stopped those. Together. You can't just go around changing things without asking me first!" You were fuming.

"Sure I can! We only stopped those villains because of what I did, you just got in the way." he pointed at you.

Here we go again, the blame game. The endless cycle of 'he did this she did that'. You were so sick of it. "That's bullshit and you know it. I can hold my own on the field just as well as you can. And you know what! I don't even want to be your partner anymore."

"Neither do I! You can go play hero with someone else while I do all the real work. I never wanted you on the team in the first place!" He stared you down and if you weren't so fired up you'd probably be intimidated.

"God you're so annoying!” You threw your hands up in frustration. “You think you're so great and no one can even come close to you but in reality you're exactly like the rest of us!"

What were you doing? This wasn't what you wanted. You wanted to apologize and make things right but now here you were screaming at him again. You almost couldn't help it. Fighting him gave you a sort of rush that you craved. It was like a drug and you were addicted to the pain. You didn't want to fight him but it was the closest thing to a conversation you'd had in over a week and at this point it was enough to satisfy your need.

"I'm going to prove that i'm better than you. I'll do it on my own too!" You told him.

"Go ahead and try! You can do whatever you want because I don't care about you anymore."

You stepped back, stood as tall as you could without going on your tiptoes and took a breath. "I'm starting to think you never did." You said calmly, it seemed to catch him off guard and he didn't retaliate. You grabbed your book and turned towards the door. Dick was standing there, completely still and staring at you and Damian.

"Woah." He said awkwardly. He clearly didn't know how to handle the situation he'd just stumbled on.

You pushed past him and into the hallway. Tears were building up in the corners of your eyes so you had to move fast, the last thing you needed right now was for them to see you cry.

Damian watched you walk out before turning around and groaning. "I can't believe her," he muttered to himself. "I'm starting to think you never did. That doesn't even make sense."

"Because... you do care about her?" Dick asked. It probably wasn't the best choice of words.

Damian looked back at him with an almost offended expression. "That's ridiculous! I don't care about her, that was basically the whole point of our conversation."

"Was that a conversation? The part of that 'conversation' I saw seemed more like her yelling at you and then you... yelling back." He stated the obvious.

"That was completely her fault," Damian defended. He seemed angry but it wasn't his usual kind. Usually it was directed at someone or something and usually that thing would get acquainted with his katana but this time he was mad at himself and he couldn't understand why. "I don't care about her." He repeated quietly almost trying to remind himself more than anything.

You spent the rest of the day hiding in the guest room. You planned on staying there forever and letting yourself fade out of existence but the universe had other plans. 3 hours, 5 episodes of your favorite show, and a nest made of blankets later you got a call from Tim asking you to come to the cave.

He didn't tell you why he needed you, he just said to meet him in the lower level of the cave so when you got there you were very surprised to find him and Damian standing in the hallway. You groaned internally and considered turning around and just walking away but Tim spotted you before you could. Damian's back was to you so he didn't know who it was until he turned around and you saw his face fall.

'Nice to see you too asshole' You thought to yourself, walking over to stand near him but still keeping your distance. "What did you need?" You asked, wanting to get out of there as soon as humanly possible. You kept your eyes ahead trying not to look at Damian and you had the feeling he was doing the same.

The entire mood of the dimly lit hallway had shifted from the moment you locked eyes with him and the tension was noticeable. Tim looked between the two of you before clearing his throat and bringing the attention back to him. "I actually don't need anything."

"So then why did you call telling me to come down here?" Damian asked, clearly annoyed that Tim was wasting his time.

Tim smirked in response and opened the door before Jason, who was behind you apparently, pushed you both into the room before either of you could react. You landed on top of Damian with a grunt. Once you realized you were on top of him you felt your cheeks turn red and you stood up quickly. You could have sworn you saw the slightest bit of a blush on him but you were too preoccupied with the now locked door to think about too much.

"Ok love birds here's the deal, you're petty hormone fueled fighting is driving us crazy and now we're doing something about it." Jason told you from the other side of the small glass window. "We said you were gonna lock you in a room until you figured out how to get along and now we're following through." he smirked.

"I swear to god if you lock me in this room with him," you motioned towards Damian, "I will drop kick you into the sun."

"If you let us out now maybe I won't kill you," Damian threatened alongside you.

"Maybe if you’d learned to talk to each other like normal people you wouldn’t be here in the first place," Tim said. "We'll be back after patrol so you've got about," he looked at his watchless wrist "4ish hours. Have fun." And with that they both walked away.

"DON'T YOU DARE WALK AWA- and they're gone. Dammit." You cursed and hit the steel door which hurt a lot more than you thought it would. "Shit," You shook your hand.

"Well that was just stupid," Damian scoffed at you, taking your hand to examine it. He always did that sort of thing on patrol so you didn't pull away or even really register what he was doing.

"Oh i'm sorry, is my frustration not smart enough for you?" you sneered back. "What even is this place anyway," You looked around the small dark room, determined to not look him in the eyes.

"A containment cell for metas, we haven't used it for a while so the power blockers are probably turned off." he told you before releasing your hand. "You definitely bruised it but you'll be fine."

You reluctantly thanked him and turned back to the door to see if you could get it open somehow. "Ok so how do we get out?"

"We don't."

You flipped around, surprised to hear him give up without even trying. "You're kidding right? There's gotta be some way out of here. We're superheros, a few walls can't hold us,” you exclaimed. “Can't you use those ninja skills you're so proud of and like... kick it down, or something?" You watched him walk to the back of the small cell and sit down on the floor.

"No," he replied simply. "This room was built to hold the most dangerous people in Gotham and I don't know if you've noticed but we don't have any of our gear." He glared at you and you rolled your eyes.

"So we're just supposed to wait here until they get back? We can't just sit here all night," You tried to convince him to do... anything really.

"Well if you're so keen on getting out then let's hear your genius plan," He leaned forward with all the smugness of billionaires son, daring you to say something. "That's what I thought. Now will you please be quiet, I can't even hear myself losing my will to live."

"Fine whatever we'll just stay here in complete silence," You muttered sarcastically under your breath. Damian remained quiet as you started pacing back and forth but you could tell he was watching you.

After pacing for about 30 minutes you realized how tired you were from training so hard the past couple of days and sat down in the corner. You spent so much time over the last week worrying about Damian that you hadn't let yourself relax long enough to get any real rest. The little sleep you did manage to get mostly turned to nightmares.

At first you didn't even realize you were asleep. It all looked real enough except for the fact that you'd somehow been transported to a rooftop. You scanned your surroundings but everything was just slightly out of focus so you couldn't tell exactly where you were. When you turned around you saw him. Damian was there, and behind him was a shadowy sort of silhouette.

The shadow raised a knife and you realized what was happening. You tried to warn him, you tried to scream or yell or move but it was no use. The knife plunged into Damians back and you were helpless to stop it. You felt the pain he felt, you felt the blade slice through you. Finally you could move again but it was too late. The shadow disappeared but you didn't care about it, all you wanted to do was get to Damian. You ran forward but it was like running through water, your body moved in slow motion and you watched the blood start to pool underneath him.

Suddenly you were falling. Damian was gone, the roof was gone, everything was gone, it was just you and a black abyss trying to swallow you up. You screamed again but no noise came out, it was like all the air was being sucked from your lungs. It was silent and dark and empty nothingness until you saw a faint light. Then you heard something, your name being repeated, someone calling you and then you were pulled out of the void.

You shot up and gasped for air and frantically looked around but your eyes hadn't adjusted to the light yet. You heard a familiar soothing voice pulled you farther out of your trance.

"Hey hey hey, it's ok i'm here." The voice was calm and concerned at the same time. "It's just me ok, you're safe," Rough hands gently turned your head and the first thing you saw clearly was a pair of worried green eyes. You're breathing slowed and you're heart nearly skipped a beat.

Wrapping your arms around his chest you pulled him closer. He hesitated for a moment before folding you into his embrace. It was soft and delicate and it seemed like he was scared of holding you too tightly. Neither of you said anything else, you just sat there on the floor of a meta containment cell in each other's arms.

Time stood still and you finally admitted the truth to yourself. The real reason you hated Damian was because you loved him.

A/n: might fuck around and make a part 3 with the classic “because i love you!” confession scene

#love and war #batboys x reader #dc x reader #robin x reader #writing fanfic #damian wayne x reader #dick grayson x y/n #writing fanfiction #damian wayne #dc characters #dc writers #enemies to lovers #enemies-to-lovers #damian my poor trauma boi #damian wayne supremacy #part 2 #love and war pt2 #pt2

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batsandbugs · 4 years

Text

The Great IKEA Game

Chapter 1 - Meet the Players

Marinette originally came to the IKEA an hour outside of Gotham to buy twinkle lights for her new living room. She eventually extended her trip into obtaining new dishes since all she had right now was empty takeout containers she kept rewashing. She would have been very content getting what she needed and being on her way, (no, she wasn't lonely Plagg, she had two dozen mini-gods to keep her company, shut up) but halfway between the bedding and lights sections, Marinette’s life changed forever.

For the better, if she was being honest.

She never would have realized it if she hadn’t ducked into a showroom to test out a couch. She settled against the fluffy folds, knowing it would be destroyed within minutes if she ever brought it home when she noticed him. A boy, no man, about her age, hiding behind a desk looking for all the world as if he were plotting world domination or someone’s demise.

They looked at each other in shock for a moment.

“Are… are you ok-”

“Shhh!” his green eyes narrowed, and boy, Marinette had been on the receiving end of death glares before, but this one had to take the cake.

“Sorry,” she whispered.

He rolled his eyes. “Do you see a group of dark-haired obnoxious idiots out there?” he asked.

The request was an odd one, but Marinette rose from the couch and glanced around outside of the showroom. She didn’t see anyone fitting his description. She shook her head.

He smirked. “My idiot older brothers dragged me along for a “family bonding experience”." He made the little quotation marks, and Marinette never thought anyone could look cool doing that, but somehow this person nailed it. "Tt. I’ve successfully avoided them for an hour. Didn’t know when the coast would be clear though.” He rose gracefully from the ground, looking all the more like a prince, rather than a crazy person hiding from his family.

It was absurd.

Marinette found herself instantly amused.

“I have friends exactly like that, I totally get it,” she said, thinking how Adrian would be beside himself when she told him the story later. The pang of loneliness that had been present since she’d left her friends in Paris, for college in America re-emerged. She shook her head of the maudlin thoughts.

The Kwamis would have had a field day with this idea too, thankfully she had left them in her severely under-furnished apartment for the day in order to avoid the squabbling that came with only taking a few of them out of the house.

Marinette looked back out at the hallway again, wondering if the man's brothers would soon appear, finding herself invested in what would happen. “What are you going to do now?”

“Well, Drake has the keys, and those idiots will be at their shenanigans till the store closes, so…” he shrugged.

“Are they like… furnishing a whole house?” Marinette didn’t know how you could spend an entire day here. Sure, it was big, but…

“No. We’re engaged in a no holds barred game of hide-and-seek.” Marinette’s mouth dropped open. “If one of them catches me I become the seeker.”

“Why?”

He smirked, “Because I’ve held out the longest.”

"No, I mean, why are you playing hide-and-seek?" It seemed an odd choice for a bunch of adults. Well, Marinette and her friends would do it. But they also willing became superheroes at the age of fourteen so their judgment was already in question.

He shrugged. "My oldest brother thought it would be fun, and our father is... out of town at the moment," he said with a bit of hesitation.

“So, you’re just going to hide in this showroom till the store closes?”

A devious smile spread across the man’s handsome features. “No. I intend to troll them. If Grayson wants my participation, I'm going to make him regret it.”

It was at that moment she crossed the point of no return, not that Marinette knew it yet.

Throwing away any idea of finishing her shopping today she returned his smirk. “Any chance I could join you in your crusade?”

The guy looked her over suspiciously. “Why should I allow a stranger to join me and potentially ruin my chances at victory?”

Marinette thought for a moment. “Well, your brothers know you well?” He nodded. “Then they likely know what you’ll do to avoid and troll them. You need a fresh perspective. Plus, I can operate out in the open, I’m not officially a part of the game.”

“Hmm...” his face was impassive; Marinette couldn’t tell what he was thinking. “You make some good points, but I’m not fully convinced.”

Marinette huffed, “I also grew up in Paris without being akumatized.”

He looked at her oddly. “What the hell does that mean?”

“Paris had a terrorist for five years that turned people into monsterized versions of themselves if they felt negative feelings. They were called Akuamas. Everyone in my class had it happen to them at least once. More for some particularly loose cannons.”

The guy looked bewildered. “Why didn’t anyone hear about this?”

Marinette shrugged, trying to play off her knowledge as what a normal civilian would know. “Combination of corrupt politicians, social media blackouts, and magic. People died during these attacks, but everything was put to rights at the end of every fight due to the superheroes powers.”

His mouth dropped, but he recovered quickly looking contemplative. “I want to know more about this at a later time, but if what you say is true you can control yourself better than the average peon. But my brothers and I are a combination of street orphans, circus brats, gymnastics freaks, and geniuses - are you sure you can keep up?”

Marinette nearly laughed at his description but managed to keep a straight face. “Positive.”

“Alright, I'll do whatever it takes to win.” He offered her his hand. “I’m Damian.”

She took it, feeling a slight shock as her fingers touched his. “I’m Marinette, nice to meet you, Damian.”

“You won’t be saying that soon enough,” he said with a slight smirk. He looked over her shoulder. “Shit.” He dove beneath the desk he’d been hiding behind earlier. “Tall guy with the white streak in his hair.” Marinette turned to look. “Don’t make it too obvious,” he hissed.

Marinette grabbed her phone and leaned against the desk. With small side glances, she saw a man probably mid to late twenties with two-toned hair. He wore a leather jacket and seemed to be searching for something, or someone.

“Who’s that?” she asked quietly.

“Second oldest brother, Jason Todd - arguably the most and least dangerous.”

“Why both?”

“He did not want to participate initially, so he’s reluctant, but at the same time, he hates losing. He’ll hang on to the bitter end. More resourceful than the other two, and more violent, although less sophisticated.”

Jason moved closer to their showroom.

“Hush, he’s headed this way,” she whispered. Damian remained quiet and Marinette tried to make herself look busy.

“Quick question miss?” Marinette glanced up from her phone. Jason stood at the entrance to the showroom.

“Oh, uh, oui? Non, non, I mean yes?” Marinette said in an exaggerated accent, playing into the oblivious tourist stereotype always came in handy.

“Oh French, shit, haven’t spoken that in a while,” he muttered. “Um...”

“Non, it iz okay, I speak English well. Can I help you?” She batted her eyes just a bit. Marinette had long since grown from the days of not using all her advantages - courtesy of forced confidence from Chole. A friendship no one had seen coming but had grown quick and strong once they reached an understanding.

“Oh, I’m looking for my little brother, about yay high, black hair, green eyes, permanent scowl. Have you seen him?”

Marinette pretended to think for a second. “Non... I do not theenk so, perhaps help desk at zee front?”

“Yeah, maybe,” Jason said, Marinette could see he had already written her off as useless. “Thanks, anyway.” He walked away quickly.

There was a minute of silence. “Coast is clear,” said Marinette once Jason was out of sight.

Damian popped up, a gleam in his eyes. “Your lying skills are adequate; we may just win this yet.”

“I’m glad to meet such high approval, monsieur. Let’s get going.”

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

#damian x marinette #maribat #maridami #ml x dc #mlb crossover #damimari #damianette #marinnette dupain cheng x damian wayne

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 3 years

Text

Stalker X Stalker, Part 10

First

Perma tag: @nathleigh @peachmuses

Stalker x Stalker taglist: @aespades @jayjayspixiepop @blueslushgueen @fan-written @seraphichana @nerd-nowandforever @toodaloo-kangaroo

Marinette’s collection of vigilantes in her house was still growing, somehow. You’d think it would stop with just the ones that consistently lived in Gotham, but no.

Nightwing started dropping by whenever he was in town to try and teach her escrima. She wasn’t good with them because she wasn’t used to fighting people up close, but she didn’t really think that that was the reason why they were doing it.

Still, it was fun…

(Except for that one time they’d been heading back to her house and she dropped her phone down the drain and had to beg the rat-person -- she was pretty sure Nightwing had called them Ratcatcher? -- for help. It was very traumatizing. He’d given her a new phone but she was never going to recover emotionally from that day.)

And then, a few days before Thanksgiving, Flamebird had made an appearance.

The reason why was less fun, though.

She’d opened her blinds and stared at him for a few moments. He was leaning against her fire escape, hand pressed to his stomach.

“Hey, Robin, does Flamebird usually do the Napoleon pose?”

“The…? Oh, no, he does not.”

She sighed. “Yeah, I thought so.” She swung her window open. “Hi. Nice to meet you. What happened?”

“Got stabbed.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Okay, yeah, obviously, want to elaborate?”

“Got stabbed in the stomach,” he said, after a second’s thought.

So, no, then. She shrugged to herself and let him come inside.

“Right, Robin, go get the medkit out from under my sink,” she said, pulling a hairband from her wrist and tying her hair back.

Flamebird frowned. “Can’t you just undo everything with your magic?”

“Not magic,” supplied Tikki, popping her head out of Marinette’s pocket.

“FUCK,” yelped Flamebird.

Damian made the quiet clicking sound he made whenever he was about to say something rude but Marinette cut him off with a glare and pointed him towards the bathroom. Damian grumbled a little under his breath but obeyed for fear of being thrown out.

She turned back to Flamebird. “Also, that’s not how my ‘magic’ works. If I’m not involved in a fight…” She made a ‘poof’ motion with her hands. “No miracle cure.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “Man, if I’d known that I would’ve just dealt with this myself.”

“Well, it is too late for that,” said Damian, who had come back out with a medkit. “Now, sit down, we will tend to your wound.”

And they did.

(Or, rather, Marinette did. It didn’t matter if she knew, logically, that he already knew how wounds looked and how to treat them, she just didn’t feel comfortable making him help. She sent him off to play with the cat and worked on dressing it. She’d made a mistake here by doing the normal routine while stitching someone up: asking about things they liked to distract them. He said he was an ‘avid reader’, she’d laughed and said that she probably wouldn’t know any of the books he mentioned because she hardly ever read in English, and now she was apparently in a book club. That was on her, she supposed, but it was still a little irritating.)

And that was all the vigilantes. They all came over from time to time. Sometimes they’d see each other and give each other awkward smiles or actively ignore each other, but it became a constant part of her life.

But it all came to a head one seemingly regular day.

She had been walking up the stairs to her apartment with Tim, ten bags of groceries loaded onto her arms and five on his (he was to open the door), and had nearly bumped into him when he stopped suddenly.

“Cass?” He asked, confused.

She raised her eyebrows just slightly. She’d thought everyone knew about each other but, now that she thought about it, because of the scheduling Tim wouldn’t really be around when everyone else came by.

He took Cass’s arrival in stride, though, fishing his key out of his pocket and pushing the door open.

He did not take in stride the fact that Duke, Damian, and Nightwing were all inside her house already. Duke was sitting on her counter, wrapped in a blanket as he scrolled through his phone. Damian was playing with Vanelope. Nightwing was doing stretches on her floor.

“Hey, look, more people that don’t live here,” Marinette said with only a hint of bitterness.

Nightwing glanced up. “You’re out of chips.”

“Already --?!” She took a deep breath to steady herself. “Fine. Fine. I got more, anyways.”

Tim snapped out of it. He closed and locked the door quickly before sending Marinette a pout. “Alright, I can get you cheating on me with Cass, but come on,” he half joked.

Marinette rolled her eyes. “If one of the people I’m apparently cheating with is a five-year-old --.”

“TWELVE.”

“-- then I think you have more things to worry about than my serial adultery, darling.”

“... guess that’s true.”

“Also, I only buy groceries with you, so you’re clearly my favorite concubine.”

Duke grinned. “Actually --.”

“Except for that one time I asked Signal to go find ricotta because I’d forgotten it,” she conceded. “I guess he's my second favorite.”

Cass pouted and raised her hand.

“She makes a good case for herself. You’ve both been demoted,” she joked.

Tim was still pouting. Probably has something to do with going from favorite to second favorite. Who knows.

She rolled her eyes. She had bigger problems. Like her food. There were frozens and she was not going to lose her food to something as stupid and useless as the air. She waved him along as much as she could with the bags digging into her arms and started putting things away.

She tipped her head back after a second to squint at everyone. They were awkwardly staring at each other, for some reason… oh, right, they technically didn’t know each other.

“Uh, introductions, I guess. Signal, Robin, and Nightwing, meet my friends. Tim, Cass, meet my annoyances.”

Tim perked up a little at being called a friend rather than an annoyance. Problem solved. Kind of.

He set down his bags and leaned close to her ear. “So, they don’t know you know?”

“Duke does,” she mumbled back. “I’m not going to tell them about it, though, I want to see how long it takes them to notice.”

He snickered. “I can get behind that.”

“Good. You didn’t have a choice in the matter,” she joked, leaning forward to press a kiss to his nose.

She could hear Cass groan a little at the obvious affection and both Duke and Damian cringed. She fought the urge to laugh. It was just a little kiss on the nose, they didn’t have to act like it was scandalous or gross.

But, apparently, it was gross enough for Damian to grab her arm to try and pull her attention away from Tim (and physically pull her away from him, she noted, as she was forced to take a half-step back from him).

“Did you get more of my gummy bears?”

She rolled her eyes. “Did you ask for them? Did you tell me you were out?”

He looked a little put out and she felt bad enough to give up the act quickly:

“Yes, kid, I got you your weird vegan gummy bears.”

He beamed and started sifting through her bags.

She smiled fondly and ruffled his hair, ignoring the knife that was sent her way for the action with practiced ease, then started putting things away.

Everyone except Damian made their way over to help. There were no ulterior motives, they insisted, even as she watched Nightwing slip a bag of chips into Damian’s hoodie for safekeeping and Duke pocket an apple.

At least Cass and Tim were reasonably well-behaved, she thought right before she watched him split an orange with her.

Tim squinted at the three people below him.

Jon had come to visit because a) the no metas in Gotham rule had more or less stopped being enforced due to constant complaints from the Justice League, b) Damian needed friends his age, and c) it was Christmas and Jon was so sure that this year was going to be the year that Damian finally understood the holiday.

And, because Jon had come to visit, so had Conner. The worst part of being an older brother that Tim understood all too well.

But, now, he looked down at the three people gathered at the bottom of the stairs.

They were apparently competing to see who could be the stupidest. Steph was standing on a banister, Marinette was trying to sit on a vertical bo staff, and Conner was doing a handstand on both of their heads. It was a little shaky, what with Steph’s barely restrained laughter and the fact that bos are not meant to be balanced on and Conner trying to do tricks, but they were clearly having fun.

Tim crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the entrance to the cave. Did he have a type?

Their comms crackled to life and all three went stock-still, grins wiped from their faces briefly as they listened to see what had happened.

“I am requesting the night off to have an outing with Superboy.”

Bruce gave the grunt that meant ‘fine’.

The three relaxed now that they knew that everything was okay, quickly going back to their game. Marinette had added a surfboard. Steph was struggling with an exercise ball. Conner was slowly taking off fingers.

Tim sighed to himself. Yep. Dumbasses who can only be serious for truly important things -- and, even then, only for a few seconds at a time. That was his type. Someone, please, save him.

It had been a while since Marinette had gone out on her own (with the intention of staying alone, leaving for patrols didn��t count). Really, she normally wouldn’t, but she needed to pick up a piece of fabric she’d forgotten to get the day before and it wasn’t even a meter’s worth. She didn’t need help for that.

Besides, going by herself was much quicker. She was able to go by rooftop as Ladybug.

Of course, going as Ladybug had a risk to it that she didn’t realize until it was too late: responsibilities.

She groaned to herself as she made to jump to the next roof and her eyes landed on a person getting mugged in the alleyway below her.

She looked down at the bag with her fabric inside it and wondered if it was even worth leaving it there while she got rid of the attacker. Most of the time the people mugging people in Gotham were using fake guns. Even if they weren’t, muggings were common enough that most people had little on them and were only slightly annoyed when people tried to rob them. The person below was no exception, it seemed. They scoffed when the gunman poked their back.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m going,” they said irritably.

Wait, shit, she knew that voice.

She squinted down into the darkness and, yep, she would recognize that almost unhealthily pale skin anywhere.

She dropped down into the alley between them and, to her slight surprise, it turned out the gun actually did have bullets in it. A shot rang out. She fell back a step, cradling her shoulder.

The gunman’s eyes widened. He hadn’t meant to shoot her. It had probably just been a split second reaction.

Unfortunately for him, getting shot really fucking hurts and she was going to take it out on him. Especially since he’d been trying to mug one of her friends. She glanced back at Tim, who was shaking and a little pale, and grit her teeth. Yeah, this guy was fucked.

Eventually, though, the pain in her shoulder, worsened by all the movement, got too unbearable and she rolled off of the mugger. She tied the man’s hands and feet behind his back with her yoyo and, after calling Miraculous Ladybug, called it a day. She’d get her yoyo back later.

For now, she pressed a hand to her ear. “Hey, Signal, I’ve got one for you.”

“You’re joining me for daytime patrols now?” He asked, his voice somehow brighter than the powers he had.

“Nah, just happened to come across…” She considered embarrassing Tim but decided against it when she saw her friend’s face. “... someone getting mugged while out today.”

He huffed a little but she ignored it in favor of relaying the address.

The perpetrator to be taken care of, she turned to the victim. She didn’t know whether the rules applied to people you knew, but she figured she might as well go through with the normal procedure. Tim liked procedure, it might help him.

So, step one: connect with the victim. She unzipped her hoodie and smiled brightly, making sure her eyes crinkled behind her mask.

Step two: check to make sure they aren’t going into shock.

Normally, she was able to skip this step. The miracle cure got rid of it if they had gone into it before the attack… but his eyes were somehow both fixed intensely on her like he was scared she’d disappear if he chanced a look away and extremely vacant.

She took slow, careful steps towards him, hand out to check his pulse.

Once she was close enough, he grabbed her hand and pulled her into a hug. Marinette didn’t quite know what to do. The part of her brain still doing the normal procedure told her to hug back because this was a scared victim that wanted comfort, but the other part was tempted to push him off to check for a concussion… even though, logically, he shouldn’t have one because she had cast Miraculous Ladybug so her arm wouldn’t have a bullet in it anymore --.

Oh. She was stupid.

He’d watched his friend get shot and now he was freaking out. Like people are supposed to do.

She hugged him back, bringing a hand up to run through his hair.

“Would you like me to take you home?” She asked.

“My… my friend lives near here,” said Tim quietly, mindful of the fact that the mugger was still within earshot.

She nodded. “I’m going to pick you up, okay?”

He bit his lip so hard that she worried he’d break the skin and nodded.

She took him home and, with only a brief stop to keep Vanelope from escaping, set him down on the couch. She kept a hand touching him at all times as she gathered the blankets and pillows strewn about by all the visits the bats made. For once, she was glad she never really had time to clean, she didn’t want to let go of him when he was clearly so concerned about her.

Less than five minutes later she’d wrapped them both up as tightly as she could with as many blankets as she could reach. He rested his head against her shoulder, arms loosely draped around her under the blankets. Vanelope settled on their laps and started to purr; she made a mental note to give her a bunch of treats later.

But, for now…

She cupped his cheeks in her hands and waited patiently as he struggled to pull himself together enough to actually be present.

“Darling, I said I wouldn’t go anywhere. I’m not breaking that promise. Okay?”

He nodded slightly, finally releasing his lip to speak: “Okay.”

She pressed a kiss to his nose. A half smile made its way across his face.

“Now, how do you feel about Big Fish?”

He squeezed her a little tighter. “The circus scene is cute.”

She nodded her agreement. “I like the daffodil scene better, personally, but it is pretty cute.”

She turned the movie on.

Tim was sure he was overreacting. Of course he was. She hadn’t died, she wasn’t even hurt any more. It clearly didn’t bother her, he had ‘accidentally’ chosen that shoulder to rest his head on and she hadn’t so much as winced when he had. No, the only worry she had was about him.

So, he should be fine.

But he wasn’t.

She’d been shot and, for a second, he’d feared it would be another Darla situation. And he couldn’t deal with another Darla situation. He couldn’t. He had to believe that he was better than that high school Tim that had let all his friends die. Because if he wasn’t better than that meant he couldn’t have friends and he couldn’t deal with that either.

He didn’t want to be alone again.

No, he wouldn’t let that happen. He could think of a plan, surely. He was a planner, he found problems and he dealt with them. That had been his coping mechanism pretty much since birth and (if you ignore all the workaholic tendencies, independence issues, and General Trauma) it was working out pretty well for him. Can’t be sad if there’s work to do, after all.

Yeah. Work. He was good at work.

He bit his lip.

Alright, so the problem stemmed from his fear of being alone… which wasn’t going to be fixed anytime soon. Good coping mechanisms? In this family? Please. Next.

Alright, so the problem stemmed from his fear of her getting hurt.

Simple solution! Don’t let her get hurt!

… not as simple a solution as it sounded on paper.

She wasn’t going to stop vigilantism anytime soon. He wouldn’t make her, and she wasn’t going to do it on her own accord. Even if she decided to at some point Tim didn’t have much hope for it. Every person in the family had tried that already, it never worked. They’d say that it would be fine, that they were going to stop for their mental health or even just permanently end it… but family was family and how could someone sit back and watch family get hurt when they could do something about it?

So, that wasn’t going to happen. What other answers were there?

Well, he supposed that she had left on her own and that was the main problem. If she hadn’t left on her own then he wouldn’t have followed after her in secret and he wouldn’t have gotten attacked in the first place.

But he couldn’t be around much more without it being weird unless he…

He couldn’t…

Could he?

He figured it was worth a shot. And he should ask now. If she said no he wouldn’t have to worry about her thinking him weird, she’d just assume it was a request made while in the middle of shock and forget about it.

He hesitantly let go of his lip.

“Hey, Bean?”

She stopped pretending to watch Big Fish for the sake of giving him privacy. “Yeah?”

“Remember when… I…” He bit his lip, trying to think of a better way to phrase it, but he couldn’t. There really was no casual way to ask. He took a deep breath to steady himself. “Can I, maybe, move in with you?”

She stared at him for a moment, eyes wide, before quickly shaking her head.

He must have looked pretty put out, because she rushed to explain herself:

"You’re under emotional duress, darling, it wouldn’t be right to say yes.”

He nodded his understanding and it was silent for a bit before he eventually said: “But, if I asked tomorrow… would you say yes?”

She looked at him for a while, her face unreadable, before she gave him a hesitant smile.

“Well, I already said that you basically lived here. I suppose there wouldn’t be anything wrong with making it official.”

#stalker x stalker #timari #timmari #maribat #timinette #shutterbug #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #red robin #tim drake

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night-fallz · 3 years

Text

We’re Tired of Him

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Description:

It was pretty easy to dislike Damian Wayne. He was an arrogant, stuck-up brat. So when the Titans get a chance to gain blackmail material on him, they took it, along with his brother's eagerly joining in.

They couldn't wait to see the look on Damian's face when he realizes that they know every little secret he has. Who knows. Maybe they can finally get the brat to shut up or if they're lucky, they might be able to force him to quit being Robin.

Or that one time Damian's teammates and brothers decide to spike his drink so they could use Damian's secrets against him.

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Ao3 // Wattpad

previous II next

We’re Tired of Him (Part 1)

Wally does not remember a single time where the Titans have completed a mission without him feeling annoyed or irritated at Robin.

It wasn’t a secret to anyone in the superhero community that speedsters weren’t patient people. They had too much energy pent up in their system to sit still for more than five seconds.

Which is why you shouldn’t expect much from them when you bring them to a discrete, cover-ops mission.

Everyone knew that.

At least, everyone except Damian fucking Wayne.

Wally never liked the new Robin and he didn’t try to hide that fact.

He’d make snide comments behind the kid’s back, purposely being loud so that Damian knew what he thought of him.

Hell, he’s even told Damian straight to his face that no one liked him. But the kid wasn’t affected; he only dismissed Wally with a roll of his eyes and a simple ‘tt’.

As if Wally was nothing but an ant standing in his way.

It annoys him that the kid doesn’t respond to his remarks, but he doesn’t regret making them.

In his head, Damian deserved it.

Who in their right mind decides to abduct someone to force them to join a reincarnation of an old superhero team.

At least come up with a new name!

Wally never wanted to join the brat’s team anyways and he might’ve changed his mind and stayed in the end, but it still doesn’t change the fact that he was forced to be in it.

Despite the fact that the kid might’ve apologized, Wally still hasn’t forgiven him. And frankly, he thinks that he never will.

Especially if he kept it up with the attitude.

The moment the rest of the team stepped into the main lobby, he couldn’t stop the complaints that rolled off of his tongue.

“He’s such a brat,” he couldn’t help but growl out, the disgust clear on his voice. “Like how can someone be such a dick!”

Wally felt some of his anger vanish as his words caused the room to be filled with laughter. It was always nice to know that he wasn’t the only one that had a strong distaste for their team leader.

Though, to be fair, a lot of people didn’t get along with Damian Wayne. He knows for a fact that a lot of them just put up with him because his dad’s Batman.

The more Wally thought about it, the more he wondered if the brat actually had friends.

While Damian was rather close with Djinn, along with Superman’s son, Jon. They were also some of the sweetest people that he’s ever had the chance of meeting. So maybe they just felt bad for the kid.

It made sense in his mind.

After all; who in their right mind would want to be friends with Damian?

Emiko’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts, “What did the kid do now?”

He couldn’t contain the smirk that made its way onto his face, he loved it when they bonded over how much they disliked the new Robin.

And judging by how Emiko and Crush mirrored his expression, he knew that he wasn’t the only one that felt that way.

“He goes and gets mad at me for being incompetent or something. Like it’s not my fault I wasn’t raised by a crazy old hot assassin lady.”

Wally knew that he wasn’t being fair. That Damian couldn’t control how he was raised. And that there was a high chance that Damian could hear him- could hear them- tearing him apart.

But in the heat of the moment, he couldn’t bring himself to care. He wanted the brat to hear him. He wanted the kid to know that even if he was Batman’s son, a majority of them still didn’t like him.

That they only put up with him because they had to.

Not because they wanted to.

There’s a fucking difference between the two and Wally needs Damian to know that.

Crush jumped on the couch, imitating Damian’s pose as she mocked his words, “If you don’t halt your tongue you useless speedster, you will perish under my sword.”

She swung her imaginary sword into the air, pretending to slice Wally’s neck.

He played along, fanning his face as he forced his eyes to roll back before his back hit the soft cushions of the couch.

From the corner of his eye, he could see Djinn and Roundhouse trying to hold in their laughs.

He couldn’t say that he was surprised that they were so reluctant to make fun of their so-called leader, out of everyone in the Titans, they were the ones that tolerated the brat the most.

He saw Roundhouse’s eyebrows furrow in confusion, and he tried to hold in a groan as he heard the uneasy tone come out of his teammate’s mouth, no doubt feeling bad for laughing at the expense of ridiculing one of his favorite heroes.

“Why are you guys so mean to the small man?”

It was such an innocent question, but it made Wally’s blood fill up with such rage.

What they’re doing isn’t mean. It was well deserved. Plus, if Damian cared, he would’ve yelled at them already.

They’ve never been quiet when it came to mocking the youngest bat.

Emiko snorted, her dark hair framing her face, “Please, that wannabe is barely a man.”

He hid a smile, muttering a “That’s all he is, though. A wannabe.” as he stared at the floor.

A wannabe friend.

A wannabe leader.

A wannabe hero.

Sure Damian was trying, but that didn’t mean he was succeeding.

He would never be as charming as Nightwing.

He would never be as good of a fighter as Red Hood.

He would never be as smart as Red Robin.

He was just Damian.

The kid with the big attitude that everyone around him had to put up with.

Emiko leaned her back onto the couch, arms on the back of her head. “You guys wanna know what Roy told me,”

Wally found himself nodding, along with the others as she continued. “He said that even his own brothers don’t like him. They just put up with him to make their dad happy. Actually, probably even his own father doesn’t want him.”

“You’re probably right.” Wally laughed, not registering just how hurtful his words could be. “I mean, didn’t his mom just force Batman to take him. The guy probably didn’t have a choice.”

It wasn’t like what he said was wrong.

He remembers Dick complaining to him about it. How an assassin came out of nowhere with Damian and just gave him to Batman, who gave Dick the task of training the spoiled brat who just wouldn’t listen.

Those were Dick’s words, not his.

“That must be tough,” he heard Crush huff, “Being tossed around like trash.”

Wally found himself nodding in agreement, “He probably deserved it.”

Djinn cut in before his mouth said something he would regret, “That’s just plain mean.”

The look she gave him actually made him feel bad so he found himself muttering a quiet, “sorry” before sitting next to Emiko on the couch, who looked like she was holding in her laughter.

Roundhouse spoke up, drawing everyone’s attention towards the blue-skinned kid. “If you guys don’t like Damian so much, why don’t you just leave.”

Emiko only shook her head in amusement, “I’m still friends with you guys,” she said like it was the most obvious thing in the world, “I’m not going to leave just because a kid is acting like- well, a kid.”

And even though Wally knew it was wrong. He couldn’t stop the dark thrill that curled up his stomach to know that even if Damian was the chosen leader for the team, he would never acquire the close bond that they all had with each other.

Crush rolled her eyes, “The kid’s a spoiled brat. And that’s it. No explanation needed.”

“I don’t get it. Why don’t you guys just try to get to know him more?” Djinn asked, “I know that he’s not as bad as you think he is.”

Wally held in the laugh threatening to come out of his throat- Damian Wayne? Not being as bad as he thinks he is.

If anything, Damian was probably worse.

Roundhouse bobbed his head in agreement, “Yeah, he’s usually pretty nice to me.”

Crush, Emiko, and Wally exchanged uncertain glances with each other.

Wally doesn’t believe it; Damian Wayne, being nice?

Are they even talking about the same Damian Wayne? The one trained by fucking assassins.

He knows for a fact that his brothers won’t believe it either. And out of everyone else in the superhero community, they’re probably the ones that know Damian best.

But then again, that was only because they had to spend the most time with him. Whether they liked it or not, Damian was a part of their family.

Wally found himself genuinely feeling bad for them.

Djinn tilted her head, “So will you do it? Actually, try to get to know him?”

Crush immediately shook her head, “Yeah. No.”

Djinn furrowed her eyebrows at the instant rejection, “But why not?”

“Damian is well- he’s just Damian.” Emiko intervened. “Even if we put in an effort, he might not put the same amount back.”

“Yeah,” Wally added on. “And unless he’s drunk and shit, we won’t get anything out of him.”

Crush raised an eyebrow at the two, “Why do you think we never invite him when we hang out?”

Roundhouse faltered, giving Djinn a hesitant look. “I just thought he didn’t want to join us.”

“That's probably true as well.” Wally pointed out. “If he did, he would tell us that he’d want to join, you know? He probably thinks that he’s too good for any of us.”

Djinn frowned in disagreement, but this time, she kept her mouth shut.

No one said anything for a while before he noticed Emiko turning to him, “About that comment you made, what if we did get the kid drunk?”

Roundhouse stared at the girl, eyes wide, “Is that even allowed? Or legal? Is that even legal? We’re superheroes. We can’t do illegal things.”

The archer shrugged, “I mean, yeah it can be legal. We just need a trusted adult’s consent. And lucky for us, two of his brothers are legal adults.” she met Wally’s eyes, “You know them better than any of us. Do you think they’ll allow it?”

Wally eagerly nodded, “They probably will. I’m ninety-nine percent sure that they don’t like him that much either.”

That was an understatement.

With all the complaining he’s heard from them, Wally had a feeling that they hate Damian even more than he did.

And he hated the kid a lot.

“Wouldn’t that be betraying his trust?” Djinn asked.

Crush leaned forward, her eyes full of mischief before it quickly disappeared as soon as she met the young girl’s eyes, “Let me tell you a secret, this is something Damian might call a training exercise.” she slowly explained to the two youngest heroes, “In a way, we’re technically gathering information on our target. And in this case, our target is Damian.”

Wally could tell that they were close to convincing them so he softly added on, “Plus, isn’t this technically just a faster way for us to get to know Damian? That’s what you wanted.”

The girl nodded, her lips pursed, and after a few minutes she spoke up, “Okay, let’s do it.” her eyes soon grew troubled. “But what if his brothers end up saying no?”

The speedster waved off the girl’s concerns. “Don’t worry,” he smiled, “This is an opportunity that they probably won’t be able to decline. Trust me.”

Wally’s was confident that they’ll agree to it.

Roundhouse had the biggest grin growing on his face, “We finally get to know more about Robin!” he excitedly said, “He’s always by himself. And he’s quiet. Really quiet”

His eagerness died down, sadly looking at the floor. “Does this mean he doesn’t like us?”

Crush snorted, “I don’t even know kid, I stopped trying to understand the brat a while ago.”

Wally and Emiko nodded in agreement.

The only times they willingly interacted with Damian was on the field. Because even though the kid sucked; he definitely knew what he was doing.

Emiko took her phone out, “I’m pretty sure that the bats have a game night in their little cave tonight.”

The team stared at her confused, “What does that even have to do with the discussion?”

Emiko rolled her eyes, “What I’m trying to say is that all of Damian’s eldest brothers are in their little Batcave.” she spoke slowly like she was talking to a bunch of babies. “Together. Playing a game. Probably without Damian.”

Roundhouse caught on, “So all we have to do is go to the cave and ask them if we can get Robin drunk.”

“How do you even know that?” Crush asked Emiko.

“Roy talks.” The archer shrugged, “A lot… especially if it’s about Jason.”

Crush jumped out of the couch in excitement, “That means we might be able to do this tonight!” She pointed at him, “Wally, go!”

“Right now?”

“Obviously, you dolt.”

“Why me?” he cried out, “You know how protective the bats are of their precious little cave.”

“Wally, go,” she repeated.

He didn’t budge. “Batman will kill me.”

“Batman doesn’t kill.”

“If someone just randomly enters his cave, he will.”

Crush looked like she wanted to punch him, “Wally, I fucking swear. Aren’t you and Nightwing like besties?”

He shrugged, “I don’t know.”

“Just text the dude in advance,” Roundhouse suggested. “That way no one gets killed, and we get to learn more about Robin.”

Wally sighed, leaping to his feet as he spoke, his tone filled with faux-excitement. “Great, I can’t wait to go-“

His voice trailed off, noticing Damian walking in.

It looked like the brat was about to go use the zeta-tubes but he stopped, his head tilting as his gaze landed on the team, “Can’t wait for what?”

Wally looked around, his eyes desperate for an answer.

Luckily, Djinn answered for him, a bright smile on her face as she addressed Damian’s question. “We’re going to the movies! We wanted to do a bit of team bonding.”

That response made Wally want to laugh.

Don’t get him wrong, it was a believable excuse. It’s just-

He can’t even think of a single time that they invited their “leader” to a team hangout.

He wondered if Damian noticed the fact that they went out of their way to exclude him from everything except for missions.

And If he did, did he care?

His eyes watched as the kid nodded in acceptance. As if they even needed his permission to hang out.

Damian turned his back on them, calling out a “have fun” as he disappeared in a flash of bright light.

Well, that answered his question. Damian looked like he could care less. He didn’t even give them another glance.

He just immediately turned his back on them, walking away as if he owned the place.

It made Wally’s blood boil. Did the brat even notice that no one wanted him around?

He couldn’t wait and see just what secrets the brat hid underneath that perfect, little mask of his.

And Wally couldn’t wait to tear that mask apart.

————————————————————————

Note:

guess who finally started writing the one fic that almost everyone was waiting for.

me!!!

To be honest, I was kinda confused on how I was going to write the events of “I’m fine” from the other’s POV, then I realized that I could just write it using multiple chapters, so that’s what I did.

I know that a lot of people were waiting for this version, so hopefully you guys end up liking this installment, and if you have any comments, suggestions, and feedback, make sure to comment on them.

Also, I feel like I need to mention that, yes- I know that some of the characters are “out of character” in a way. Though, Damian does receive a whole lot of shit from them in the comics so at the same time they kind of aren’t ooc, if that makes sense.

I genuinely just wanted to write a Damian Wayne whump fic that I can go back too and cry about later. So if you don’t like it, then just don’t read it. No need to waste your energy writing hate comments that I’ll probably only laugh at later.

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bigskydreaming · 3 years

Note

I agree with everything you said in the last post but especially the Damian part.

Like I don’t know why people treat it like Dick had to choose between two toys and he chose the shinier model. He was in a situation where a 9/10 year old child was going to go back to a murder cult if he didn’t find a quick way to sure he stayed. And no option was good if Damian left. It was either Ra is going to steal his body or would become a powerful supervillain who would resent the whole family and between that is a whole lot of child abuse. It not like Dick had all the time in the world to figure out a different way for Damian to stay he had maybe like a day.

Also we never actually got to see Dick’s view on the situation only Tim’s because the only time we got to see that conversation was in Red Robin ( which might be wrong but I’m pretty sure I’m right). Tim was having a slight mental breakdown so maybe not the best narrator.

Like, the ONE thing I'd love for people to keep more centered in the varying discourses about Dick, Tim, Robin and Red Robin, is that like.....

The writer himself had Tim and Dick reconcile and work together in the aftermath of Tim leaving because he was upset.

It really doesn't get mentioned enough IMO that at no point in the actual canon stories was Dick ever oblivious to Tim being hurt, uncaring of this, nor did the canon ever try to claim on Dick's behalf that he DIDN'T hurt Tim, y'know?

I talked earlier tonight about the importance of remembering that these are fictional characters who can not CHOOSE any actions for themselves, but rather are ruled entirely by what the writers choose FOR them.

And the thing is.....for all that Dick is often characterized in fanfics as being oblivious or uncaring to having hurt Tim, or say that he kicked Tim out of the house and the city, or that he called Tim crazy or that he chose Damian OVER Tim or all these other things.....

None of those things say anything about Dick or what kind of character he is, despite the fact that fanon and fics have made a huge deal OUT of running with the idea that THOSE acts in fact say a LOT about Dick's actual character or whatever.....

But like, the point is not just that none of those things say anything about Dick simply because they're not how the canon went....

JUST as important, IMO, is the fact that none of those things are even in the BALLPARK of saying anything about Dick's actual character.....

Because the actual canon was written the way it was for the sake of TIM'S story. It was never about trying to make Dick look good, the events played out the way they did because the writer INTENDED there to be conflict between the brothers about it! Dick didn't find some magical way of ensuring that he delivered the news to Tim in the absolute right way possible because he just didn't care enough about Tim's feelings to do so....Damian delivered the news to Tim in the absolute worst way possible BECAUSE the writer WANTED the chasm between Dick and Tim.

THE CONFLICT WAS THE STORY!

And just as importantly.....the same writer who caused the conflict also RESOLVED the conflict. In his own same stories. Tim and Dick may have never hashed over every single detail of Tim's issues with Dick, but there was CLEARLY a reconciliation. Tim showed his forgiveness, his understanding of why Dick had done what he'd done and the fact that he'd made his peace with it, in a variety of ways from telling Dick he still had his trust, joking with Dick in SPECIFIC ways that called back to personal in-jokes that they'd had since the 90s -

(and that in fact were originally written by the same writer....like, the Brady Bunch jokes are a SPECIFICALLY Fabian Nicieza thing, as in he's the only writer who has EVER had Dick and Tim having that particular in joke between them, and he established it when he first wrote Tim, when he and Dick were great during Tim's time as Robin in the 90s. Tim calling back to those jokes during Red Robin and specifically reinviting memories of some of his favorite moments with his brother HIMSELF, like was as clear a peace gesture as you can get, IMO.)

But point is....the conflict happened the way it did, because it was MEANT to happen. There was supposed to be conflict, so by that very token, Dick wasn't MEANT to find the perfect way to handle the Robin situation that made sure Tim didn't suffer any negative feelings about it.

The reason its lasted so long as discourse in fandom was that regardless of the fact that the writers and characters both showed a resolution to the conflict that was deliberately sown to BE a conflict in the first place....

Fans of Tim decided this resolution wasn't adequate enough.

And so the events of it have been tweaked endlessly, as has the fact that the brothers reconciled itself, in order to keep this conflict extended far beyond the parameters or duration of the ACTUAL canon conflict its based on....with Dick further exaggerated into this uncaring instigator because the conflict FANS wanted was one in which Tim was Dick's victim in a way that he was never intended to be by the initial source conflict, which wanted BOTH characters to be somewhat sympathetic but now turned into a one-sided thing where only ONE character is 'deserving' of sympathy.....

But the problem is....that wasn't the story. And this wouldn't BE a problem, due to it being fanfic and fanfic being innately transformative, if not for the fact that people keep trying to point to canon actions as the proof of conclusions they're drawing about Dick's actions in the FANON conflict.....when the only thing the canon actions are meant to serve as the foundation for, is the conflict which ACTUALLY happened AND was resolved in canon!

And the thing is, a lot of fandom have done a lot to compare this situation to Dick losing Robin in the first place, but without actually leaning into that comparison in order to examine how Dick truly felt about that then, and ACTUALLY make it the comparison they're raising it as.....

(people can't claim that they've done this if they themselves are calling the situations parallel and yet clearly holding Tim and his feelings as innately more sympathetic and deserving of understanding than they're willing to even retroactively apply to Dick in the very situation they themselves have invited comparisons to....like if you're STILL calling for Dick's head for what he did with Robin here in a way that you're not having any characters anywhere, even just in reference or passing say that Bruce deserves being chewed out for to similar degrees.....your comparison is rigged from the start, it just is)....

But ultimately at the end of the day, there IS an answer for why Dick wasn't more careful and studious in his handling of the Robin situation....and that answer, for better or worse, is that he wasn't MEANT to be. The handling exists the way it played out, because it was meant to engender a specific conflict, one that was then resolved to the satisfaction of the story's writer.

If that wasn't to the satisfaction of fans, that's understandable! No story ever satisfies all fans!

But the problem is, the transformative nature of fanfic cuts two ways. And this is what people so often conveniently overlook when they cite that you can do anything with fanfic and that its subject to everyone's personal wants and agenda.

Like this is all perfectly true. But what people CAN'T do, is forbid others from drawing conclusions based on what decisions you do and don't make with fanfic.

And the problem with the Red Robin discourse, is we have a conflict that was engineered from the start, and negatively impacted a particular character aka Tim.

And the resolution the canon offered didn't satisfy the itch a lot of Tim's fans had for that particular conflict.

But the thing is.....there's two entirely different ways to tweak a conflict with fanfic.

You can make it BETTER.

Or you can make it WORSE.

And nine out of ten times - with this being especially obvious when you keep in mind that the canon itself DID CREATE RESOLUTION TO ITS OWN CONFLICT - its very apparent that a lot of fans just were not interested in making the resolution of this conflict even BETTER than what we got in the canon.

See, because the reason it happened in canon at all was NOT in fact because Dick was just as uncaring and neglectful as FANON of this conflict makes him out to be....since the reason it happened that way at all was ONLY because the writer needed it to happen in SOME way that sowed conflict between Tim and Dick and sparked Tim's solo journey of self-discovery.....

The only real way to BETTER resolve the conflict of the Robin mantle transition...

Would be for Dick to specifically approach Tim in such a way as to take his feelings about the matter into account and make his argument for why he felt Damian needed this now.

And that's something that's ABSOLUTELY easy to do, because the only reasons things DIDN'T happen that way in the first place, was circumstantial! Because the story was PLOTTED to have Damian spill the beans before Dick even had an opportunity to talk to Tim one on one. Changing a story's direction born of circumstance is one of the easiest things to do with fanfic since all you have to do is write different circumstances! Nobody's character even needs addressing there, because no character is inherently flawed for that story happening the way it did....that's why the story WORKED, in canon! Dick just circumstantially wasn't given even an OPPORTUNITY to be as conscientious about the matter as we would have liked him to be.

Easy, EASY fix with fanfic.

But that's not what fanfic tends to do with this particular story point, is it?

Instead, we get constant worsenings of Dick's motivations, Dick's choices, Dick's reaction to Tim's response, etc, etc.

The slant is entirely one-sided, aimed at making Tim not just more sympathetic, but Dick LESS sympathetic. Making it a nuance-free example of not even two brothers fighting in the face of their mutual grief, but one being VICTIMIZED by the other's willful ignorance of their feelings and loss, while simultaneously demonstrating none of the same himself.

And that's a choice that tons of fanfic writers have made, and they GET to make that choice, but what doesn't get to happen is making everyone else pretend that this was the only way the story COULD have gone, the TRUE resolution it deserved and the thing that ACTUALLY said something indicative of Dick's character.....

When not only were there these other opportunities to resolve the conflict in ways better for BOTH characters....the resolution of the actual conflict is considered irrelevant even though creating a conflict that could be resolved in story was the ONLY reason for the characters making the specific choices they made in the first place!

The discourse is literally all just born of people using the slight against Tim's character as an excuse to make Dick's character look worse. IMO to distract from the fact that this happened at all, because the real gripe was with Tim not being Robin anymore but there was no way to unilaterally decry that WITHOUT making the case that Damian should never have been Robin, and most fans I think recognize that would have been a nonstarter, discourse wise. There’s no rolling the clock back on a new Robin EXISTING, that’s been proven conclusively in the past. Once a character has been a Robin, you can’t argue away their right to ever be one period. If it couldn’t happen with Steph, despite the shortness of her Robin tenure and the smaller size of the girls’ fanbases relative the various Batboys (and let’s not pretend a disparity doesn’t exist there), then it wasn’t going to happen with Damian. So fans made their displeasure known in another way - venting it on the character that precipitated the changing of this particular guard.

And the thing is, ultimately, for all the comparisons made to the Bruce and Dick Robin debacle, they all fall short of being valid given two fundamental differences:

1) Canon has one hundred percent refused to ever fully address the conflict Bruce created in story when he fired Dick or just gave Robin away to Jason, with the only time its ever really been addressed in the comics being when Dick came to confront Bruce about it and Bruce made no form of actual apology or recourse, but instead ultimately just yelled at Dick about missing him and then told him to go. Which umm. Yeah. Oh, the resolution of it all.

2) The other key difference being that while there are certainly fans who have used these story points simply TO make Bruce look worse, the same as I'd argued happened with Dick in the Red Robin scenario.....it is still undeniable that there are a sizable number of fans such as myself who have always insisted we only raise this particular story element because we WANT to see better or actual resolution of the conflict raised in story - aka Bruce firing Dick or just giving away Robin - AS WELL AS being very clear on a perfectly easy way TO showcase better resolution: just having Bruce fucking OWN HIS ACTIONS AND APOLOGIZE FOR THEM.

So even with the awareness that while ultimately both Robin turnovers only happened because the writers chose that conflict happen, they remain incomparable in my mind purely because only one of them was ACTUALLY resolved or treated as resolved in canon, and like.....the other one is the only one that actually has fans continuously making the point of what story actions can actually be taken in meta, headcanons and fics, TO create the resolution we want.....whereas the other conflict will never be resolved any better than it is in canon, because the people who keep raising the conflict don't even want to acknowledge that it even WAS resolved in canon at all, because that would defeat the entire purpose of continuously worsening the conflict specifically TO create reasons for a continued grudge against Dick's character.

And you flat out just can't ever resolve a conflict that people ultimately WANT to exist.

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