#how she had to grow up so much faster then even Alfred did

[goldenstarprincesses]

ok ok I like and prefer older brother America

But i love and am obsessed with older sister America

#It makes me have so many feelings #like a relatively young??America being left alone to protect and fend for her feral little French brother all while facing the world as a #young looking immortal female nation?? whos' people have already chased her down and killed her at least once #how she had to grow up so much faster then even Alfred did #how all she wanted to do as a young colony/girl was protect her little brother from feeling anymore sadness and from seeing the pain she #is experiencing due to being a young woman/girl #parentification being a direct result of Arthurs sexism and the gender norms of the time #she grows to resent her role as her brothers caregiver but LOVES him so much since he really is her only family #it breaks her heart to finally put herself and her people first #she hides so much of her experience from him just so she can protect him but like it ends up causing problems cus he is big time confused #uggg many thoughts #nyo america #hws canada

[gilbirda]

Friendly neighborhood vigilante. Chapter 21

BatmanxDP crossover. JasonxJazz

[Read on AO3] [Read on FF.net]

Based on this post

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“I’m so sorry.”

“I’m fine.”

“Your ankle is twisted.”

“Is not that bad,” Jazz said for the tenth time. And it really wasn’t, she had worse before, and it would be healed in a few days, tops. She wasn’t in top condition since she had to share her last dose of ectoplasm with him; but that didn’t mean she would let a sprained ankle bother her so easily.

“Are you sure you are okay? Jason is an absolute unit.”

“Hey.”

“What? You know it’s true!”

Dick nodded at Tim. “I almost broke my back trying to carry him piggyback once.”

“Really?” Jazz looked up from where Alfred was kneeling with the first aid supplies. She had already tried to insist she could deal with it herself and had been ignored twice. “Are there photos of that?”

“Sadly, no.”

“Damn.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be on my side?”

Jazz turned to smile at her boyfriend, not-that-secretly enjoying his slightly pink cheeks.

“Hmm?”

Everyone turned to look at Alfred when he hummed. The butler was frowning, eyes fixed on Jazz’s right foot — not in her red and swollen ankle he was about to bandage, but on one of her toes. It was crooked and stood out next to the other perfectly aligned ones.

Oh. Right.

“What happened?”

Jazz felt a bit crowded when the siblings leaned in to see her foot. She could feel their eyes scrutinizing her feet, and she never felt more self conscious before. She could have painted her toenails, at least, but she didn’t find time to do so before the dinner.

“I broke my toe a long time ago.”

Dick wore what she had come to understand was his “that’s nice” smile. She had seen him use it many times during gymnastics class, when he definitely had some comments to say but bit his tongue and said “that’s nice” instead. He had used it with her a few times, but she didn’t hold it against him.

“It didn’t heal fine.” Tim beat him to the comment. Jazz expected it, and sighed.

She gathered her thoughts as Alfred carefully twisted her foot this and that way, not upsetting her injured ankle.

“I was… eight? Ten? I think I was ten years old. I ran upstairs a bit too fast and stumbled with the last step and broke it.” She fixed her eyes on her feet when she continued: “I thought — It was just one toe. I thought I could power through and it would heal on its own.”

Someone tensed. From the corner of her eye she saw Bruce shuffle closer. She didn’t miss his troubled eyes as she ranted about her childhood back at the dinner table.

“Your parents didn’t take you to the hospital?” He asked, trying very hard to mask his horror and disappointment. Cute, but unnecessary.

“They would have, if I had told them.” Why did she get weirdly defensive, even after all these years? “But I knew I couldn’t afford the hassle of getting a toe splint and the bed rest. Danny — We had to eat. The house wouldn’t run by itself.”

Jazz had time to reflect and address how unfair it was for her to assume that role so young. She didn’t help either, trying so hard to be treated like an adult and shoehorning herself into the parenting position; but her parents gave up control to her too easily and faster than what should have been legal.

“So you walked around with a broken toe? For months?”

She didn’t look at Jason, but nodded in response. Memories of the pain coming back to her mind. It hurt so much. It really, really hurt, but she just couldn’t give up. Giving up meant not eating. Meant her grades slipping and having the school call her parents. Meant worrying Danny.

“At the time I was dealing with a lot of pain. It wasn’t until we discovered the long lasting effects of ecto contamination that we realized that the pain Danny and I experienced for the best part of our childhood and adolescence was the ectoplasm changing us from the inside out. I thought it was just growing pains. So I just… ignored it all and moved on.”

It truly was how she lived her life, huh? Ignore the pain and power through. That’s how she dealt with things when she was a kid, how she did during highschool. How she managed to just adapt and give up her dreams so she could become Danny’s pillar and support during the preparation to be King. How she came out in one piece after fighting at his side for so long.

She had always been such a hypocrite — advocating for staying in touch with your inner child, to address mental health, while ignoring her own. Nagging and pushing Danny to not let things accumulate and talk about them with her or with his friends.

And when it was about her? Power through. Ignore. She would have time to work through it later.

A soft touch on her shoulder brought her back to the moment. She breathed out slowly, looking into the eyes of the one person she knew would poke her until she admitted she wasn’t as fine as she thought, and sit with her as she worked through her thoughts.

“I’m okay.” She told Jason with a little smile.

And truly, she was.

Someone cleared their throat, and Jazz jumped, feeling her cheeks burn. Oh, Ancients. She hoped she hadn’t been staring at his eyes for too long.

By the quiet snickers and how the group that had formed around her dispersed, she assumed she did. How embarrassing!

“In any case,” she tried to get back some of her dignity, “that’s the story why the toe looks weird. It healed wrong but,” she shrugged, not really wanting to dwell on that.

“Well,” Alfred continued after a brief tense silence, “we may not have recent pictures of Jason at hand, but I know where the old albums are stored. If you want to see.”

Old albums? As in, Jason when he was a kid?

Jazz perked up at the thought — he must have been such a cute kid! — but looked to check on him if it was okay. Jason was very private and he didn’t talk much about his days at the Manor.

He looked… relaxed? He was lifting an eyebrow and looking at Bruce with a little smile. “I didn’t know you kept the pictures.”

The other man looked a bit tense. “I keep all the pictures of my kids.”

“Awww,” Stephanie leaned over where she was resting over Tim and Bernard’s laps on the other sofa, arching her back to look at Bruce upside down. “Even mine?”

“You are not one of my children, as you like to remind me every day.” Bruce said with a tired sigh, but that made it obvious he was joking.

“Damn right.”

Jazz giggled, a numbing cream Alfred was applying on her ankle tickling her a little. She stayed put as he bandaged her ankle with practiced moves, with just enough compression to support her injured ankle but not enough to cut her blood flow. Jason mentioned that Alfred usually patched them up after patrol.

“Thank you.” She said to the butler when he was done, a conversation about “baby pictures” and half hearted threats flowing around the room.

Alfred smiled at her, softly patted her foot and then gathered the first aid kit stuff and left quietly.

“Picture time!”

Jazz had little time to prepare before Dick dropped a thick album on her lap and sat down on her free side, opening the album on the first page.

The pictures were old and some were shaky and off-focus. They had this homey feeling that reminded her of the days before her parents became obsessed with the portal and family time took a backseat in their lives.

They watched her thumb through the pages and answered questions about the pictures — mostly Bruce, Dick and Alfred — and tried to not crowd her too much. Jason kept himself distanced from the situation, maybe to give her space too, maybe to be able to watch her react to the stories and the pictures of a faraway past. Jazz was polite and showed genuine interest, laughing at the memories with the rest of the group.

Soon they got to the pictures that featured the second addition to the family. Everyone breathed in relief when any reaction from the estranged family member was overshadowed by their guest’s high-pitched squeal.

“So cute!” She murmured, hand hovering over a picture with a much younger Jason covered in bandaids and glaring daggers at the camera.

“It was shortly after he arrived at the manor,” Alfred supplied the information, “and young master Jason didn’t like posing for pictures.”

Her cheeks colored pink, eyes fixed on the picture of a frowning child with curly hair. They watched in silence as she went through the pictures of her boyfriend, wondering what she was thinking. Back then Jason was a completely different person, did she notice the differences? Did she mourn the kid that he was? The man he could have been?

Jazz turned the page and a pile of pictures slid down the album. Jason was the fastest, picking up everything before it hit the floor.

They were Batman and Robin pictures.

“Oh shit,” Tim grumbled, trying to reach for the pictures, “forgot those were there.”

Jason moved his hand, and the pictures, out of his reach.

“I thought I told you to remove them, Master Timothy.” Alfred’s disappointment was perceptible, but his worried glances at Jason’s face minimized the impact.

Everyone held their breath as the man looked at the pictures, smiled, and showed the one at the top of the pile to everybody.

“I forgot how ugly the old uniform was.”

Jazz yanked the picture from his hand and held it close to her chest. “Don’t say that!” She reached for the rest of the pictures. “I liked it.”

“But that’s because you were a groupie.”

“You were a Robin fan?” Bernard jumped at the opportunity to keep the mood light.

“A me fan!” Dick smirked, flipping his hair like a diva. “Our dearest Jasmine was the club president for years!”

“Just two.” She grumbled, face red as a tomato. “And yes, I may or may not have been a Nightwing fan —”

“But you said—”

“I know what I said!” Jazz huffed, keeping her eyes on the pictures. The Robin in those pictures was Dick, given the wavy hair parted on the side. And the giant smile on his face, showing his dimples. “This is so embarrassing.”

“And yet you keep looking.” Did Jason focus on messing with her to ignore everything else? He was as calm and collected as he had been during the whole evening.

“Robin pictures have always been very difficult to come by. Good quality ones, at least.”

Tim smirked, pleased. “Some of my best work, if I do say so myself.”

“These are yours?”

“Yep,” he popped the ‘p’, “although I didn’t catch Dick until his last few months as Robin.”

Jazz hummed in response, eyes still focused on the pictures. “The resemblance is uncanny.” She murmured.

“With?”

“Danny, my brother.” She smiled up at Dick. “He dressed up as Robin one Halloween. Costume was really good, my parents bought the good quality stuff.” She chuckled. “I threw the biggest fit ever — Danny didn’t even like Robin! He thought he was lame and not as cool as Superman. But it was what my parents got him and everyone at school told him he could pass as the real thing; and well, he caved and didn’t give it to me.”

“You wanted to be Robin?” Dick asked, amused.

“Yeah! I was sooo mad. ‘Girls can’t be Robin, Jazzypants’” She scoffed. “Of course my parents weren’t helpful.”

Stephanie hollered, not looking up from her phone screen. “Yeah, girls can’t be Robin. That’s absurd.”

“In the end I went as Wonder Woman, since I didn’t have time to get another costume.”

“You don’t like Wonder Woman?” Jason asked her.

“No, I like her just fine. It’s just—” she sighed, leaning on the backrest of the sofa, gathering her thoughts. “Robin, for me, was more than a celebrity. I was… Growing up, I felt so helpless. Everyday I ended up exhausted and wondering when it would end, counting the days until I turned eighteen and I could take my little brother and leave that house. I think —” her voice got tight for a moment, but she cleared her throat fast, “ — I think that I was a huge fan because Robin was such a capable hero while being a kid like me. If he could do so many amazing things then I could, too.”

Jazz was suddenly pulled into a muscular chest, arms squeezing her so hard she was about to beg for mercy when Dick finally let her go. “That was so nice to hear, my dear number one fan.”

She chuckled, unsure of what to say, feeling everyone’s eyes on her person after such an embarrassing speech. She patted the man’s forearms a few times before moving out of the hug.

“I don’t think I’ve ever shown you guys a picture of my brother. The one with the costume should be somewhere in my childhood house — I remember taking pictures that day — but, here.”

She pulled her phone out and went to the gallery app, quickly finding a selfie of her with Danny. It was at the Nasty Burger and was a bit old, about a year old, but it was safe to show it. No Realms business.

“Tim, he could be your clone.” Bernard murmured, eyes on Jazz’s phone.

Jazz giggled. “Doubt so. We would know”

“What?”

“What?” She answered Tim, a nervous smile on her lips. The other narrowed his eyes, pondering her words, but let it go.

“I can see what you mean about the resemblance,” Dick moved on, “and I’m sure you could have passed as Batgirl, with the red hair. Babs’ is a bit darker, but it’s close enough.”

“I thought about it the next year but Danny said he was ‘too old for trick or treating’ and I also didn’t see the point of spending money on an expensive costume and, well, life happened.” She sighed, going back to the pictures, maybe looking for one of Batgirl. “I should have insisted, who knows. Is in the past now.”

“I mean, if you want the suit, it’s in the basement.”

She gave Dick a look, raising an eyebrow. “No, thank you.”

Dick opened his mouth to insist but he choked with the words, watching Jazz pick the next picture on the pile, showing a much younger Robin. It was Jason, of course, who was pictured running and flying around Gotham’s rooftops.

Everyone watched Jason. Jason watched Jazz.

“You look weird without the white streak,” she smiled up at him, lifting a picture where the kid wearing the bright colored uniform was clear and in frame, placing it next to his scowling face. “Yeah, I think I like you more with the punk hairstyle.”

“It’s a death souvenir.” He said, trying to act nonchalant, but everyone noticed the slight tension in his jaw as he watched her reactions.

“Oh I know. I knew it wasn't dyed since that day in the elevator.” At his incredulous look she added: “I told you. I know death, buddy.”

He rolled his eyes, but picked up the pile of Robin pictures in her hands. Eyes somewhat distant, the now young man went through the pictures without really stopping at any of them.

"These are really good." He commented.

"Thanks…" All Tim got in response was a grunt.

Jazz leaned in to look at the pictures too, one of her hands softly placed on his without drawing attention to the gesture. Jason didn't comment on it either, choosing to continue looking at the pictures.

"Hm." He finally said. "The short pants were a mistake."

Bruce exhaled slowly, realizing he had been holding his breath. Jason looked calm enough, even after everything that happened. Was this a sign that things were going to get better?

“If you hated them so much then you should have changed them,” Jazz’s voice lacked actual bite, and her glare was playful.

“Didn’t have enough time to change anything.” He stopped at a picture where the little kid looked more adolescent. Maybe it was taken the year of his passing. “And I knew Dickolas would flip if I changed the outfit. He hated me—”

“I didn’t—!” Everyone jumped at Dick’s outburst. He shrunk in his seat. “I didn’t hate you,” he started again, softer, “I was mad at Bruce. I shouldn’t have misplaced my anger like that.”

Jason considered his brother for a few seconds, ignoring everyone’s stares, and nodded. Without any other comment, he turned towards his girlfriend and asked:

“What did you think about the second Robin? Wasn’t he also a child hero?”

Bruce didn’t know what hurt more; that he spoke of that child like he was a stranger, or that “hero” was obviously not Jason’s first choice of words.

Jazz snorted and looked down at the picture of a serious-looking fifteen year old Jason Todd wearing the Robin costume.

“I hated him.” She answered in the middle of a tense silence. “He wasn’t as funny.”

Bernard was the first one to break into incredulous giggles, shortly followed by Stephanie. The rest watched in horror, waiting for the trainwreck to happen, unsure what to do at their guest’s statement.

Jason blinked once, twice, and joined the laughter as he grasped Jazz’s face with one hand, squishing her cheeks.

“You are weird.”

“And I’m right. You weren’t as funny.” Her words were almost incomprehensible since she couldn’t move her jaw.

“What are you talking about? I’m hilarious.” He leaned in, pulling her towards him so their faces were very close. His smile wasn’t kind but the corner of his lip twitched with amusement. “You love my death puns.”

Jazz rolled her eyes. “I’ve heard every death joke under the Sun. You are not special.” She said as best as she could articulate.

Everyone saw the young man’s eyes travel down her face to her lips, and what was once a tense silence became charged with the obvious attraction between the couple. If there was ever a doubt they cared for each other, it was gone now.

But instead of kissing, he let her go and leaned back to his lounging position. Jazz chuckled and let her body fall so she could let her head rest on his shoulder. She picked up the picture, admired it for a few seconds and gave it back to Dick to put it with the others in the pile.

“Thanks for showing me these,” she gestured at the album. Whatever else she was going to say was drowned by a big yawn she hid behind her hand.

“I think—”

“You guys could stay the night.” Bruce interrupted Jason. He smiled nervously. “I mean, it’s late and,” he vaguely gestured towards Jazz’s bandaged foot. “Alfred could give you a lift tomorrow.”

It was easy to see through the attempt, even for those that knew Bruce the least.

“Everything is as you left it. Your room—”

“Are you fucking serious?”

“Or I can prepare a guest room immediately.” Alfred manifested out of thin air, having left during the picture time to tend to his duties.

Jazz looked up at her boyfriend’s face, worried. She picked his hand but stayed leaning on his side, maybe hoping her weight kept him grounded. Jason was very tense, and she could feel his breaths grow quicker and shallow.

“You can show me your room another day.” She muttered, unsure if it was the correct thing to say.

He looked down at her eyes, searching for something. Exactly what he wanted, she didn’t know; but Jazz held his gaze with determination, letting him know she would follow his lead with whatever option he chose. If he really didn’t want to stay, she was fine with riding back to their apartment with her injured foot.

Jason clicked his tongue and breathed deeply once. “My old room is fine. Just for tonight.”

Goodbyes were brief and hasty, the mood ruined after the uncomfortable exchange. Tim left with Bernard and Stephanie, since the couple was giving her a ride home, and Dick decided to stay the night as well. Duke made a tactical escape to his room with barely saying good night. Cass disappeared for a moment and came back wearing her pajamas, picking up Jazz’ bag and discarded shoe to bring back to Jason’s old room, leaving a spare pajama set for Jazz on the bed by Alfred’s orders.

Bruce watched all happen from his loveseat with a worried face. He glanced at Damian as he passed by with Titus behind him, both coming back from the dog's last walk of the day.

“They are staying the night?” His son asked when he approached, watching Jason pick up the young woman in his arms.

The older man smiled at her blushed face and embarrassed antics at being carried like a princess. “It seems so.”

Damian considered the situation and nodded, his thoughts concealed. Bruce was positive his youngest’s opinion of the new addition to the family changed during the evening; but he didn’t know how Damian felt regarding having Jason back. His son didn’t deal well with change, even less when it was regarding family dynamics, and he was worried about the whole situation.

For the moment everything seemed okay — Damian nodded again and went upstairs to his room without asking anything else.

And so, Bruce was left alone with Alfred.

“I like her.”

The butler hummed at his master’s words. “Shall I prepare a new suit, Master Bruce?”

That finally made the man laugh. “She’s not a vigilante, Alfred.” He said when he calmed down. “I wouldn’t drag her deeper into this life than she already is.”

Alfred gave Bruce a look, lifting one thin eyebrow, like he knew better but was biting his tongue.

---

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#jazz x jason #anger management ship #hardcover ship #jazz/jason #dp x dc #dc x dp #batpham #dpxdc #friendly neighborhood vigilante #neighbors au

[rent-a-bat]

In the end, no

Drabble #5

Promt: #87 “Don't be scared, I’m right here”

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Requested by: Anonymous

A/N: Thank you all who waited to see this one posted! and thanks to the one who requested it, im sorry it took this long but I had a serious case of procrastination. Hope you guys enjoy!

tw: character death

To say you were tired wasn't even close to how you felt.

You were exhausted. Mind, body and everything in between. You had been working nonstop for too long, you were starting to burn out. But as things started to ease out, you finally had time to relax. Today was the first time you'll be going home early and you no longer had to be the first one in the office to begin the day, which meant you'll finally enjoy your free time.

The trek from work to your home was long enough to allow you to list all the things you've stopped doing so far.

You haven't watched your favorite show, too tired at night to even look for it. You haven't read your book, started since the beginning of the year, and six months later still not even half finished. You haven't felt your bed, your body too tired to even feel how comfortable it was before sleeping. You haven't enjoyed your home, barely basked in its warmth and felt its love.

You haven't seen him.

That's what you missed the most. You would arrive too late to see him off before patrol, and your work was too early to say goodbye in the morning when he just came back.

A hand on your shoulder took you out of your trance. You jumped, your mind still somewhere in your thoughts. Your first reaction was to move away, but that only made them hold you closer, their grip on you too strong to break. Before you could panic, a laugh behind you made you react.

“Jason!” You shouted, getting out of his grasp as relief washed over you.

He smiled, clearly amused at your reaction.

“Hello, y/n.” His lips warmed you as he kissed your forehead. You rolled your eyes, not letting him get away with it.

Your fist collided with his arm as you scolded him. “Don't do that again.”

He laughed, holding you once more. Your body relaxing almost instantly.

“I won't do it again… maybe.”

“Hmm.” You answered, your arms circling his waist, pressing yourself more to him. It was an awkward position to walk, but you didn't care, it's been ages since you've been like this, and you weren't passing on the opportunity.

You walked for a few blocks in silence, taking your usual shortcut through the alley, Jason's presence enough to make you feel safe even in Gotham, before you talked again. “Hey, Jay?”

He made a questioning sound. “What?”

“Dick called.” You braced yourself for his reaction. Seeing as he was waiting for you to continue, you did. “He wants us to come for dinner tomorrow night.”

“He does now.” was his answer. You pushed yourself away to look at him, not leaving his arms.

“Yeah. He said, and I quote, ‘He misses his baby bird and wants to see him now that he's in town’” You said, your smile growing with his reaction.

He huffed, shaking his head, looking up at your building.

“Come on. Let's go for a little while and then we leave.” You tried to plead as you went inside.

“Are you sure?” He asked, already walking up the stairs, you followed him behind as he took the lead.

“Yeah. Besides, I like Dick.” He brushed against the walls as he turned to look at you, the hallway to your apartment barely wide enough for the two.

“Of course you do.” He gave you a smile that made you think he wasn't talking about his brother.

You turned away, not wanting to let him see you blush. ”And..., I want to say hi to Alfred”

You stopped at the open door, Jason moving aside to let you go first.

“I’ll think about it.” He finally said, your smile widening at his answer. With a kiss on his cheek you let the door close as you both were finally home.

Tomorrow came faster than you thought.

It was a nice dinner, even if Jason would rather eat his words than accept it.

You arrived at quarter past six, 15 minutes before you agreed, the nerves not letting you stay calm. Dick was already there before you could even knock, Alfred waiting by the door, as he came forward to hug you. You returned it just as earnestly, it had been a while since you last saw him and he definitely was your favorite of the brothers. Letting you go with a smile, he took you to the dining room, taking Jason with him by the shoulder in a half hug. Fighting to hold back your laughter, you followed, hugging Alfred as you passed him.

It was a surprise once you arrived, not expecting Bruce or Tim to be there as well, the two of them receiving you just as warmly.

Everything was great. Once in a while you would sneak a glance at Jason, the way he smiled and how he laughed told you he too liked these little moments with his family, when everything is simple, easy, and you loved seeing him like this, your heart a little warmer at the thought.

Bruce and Tim left after dinner, not waiting for dessert, saying they had business to attend to. Dick followed not long after, asking Jason to go with him. Which left you alone with Alfred, the two of you chatting over a cup of tea before cleaning up.

You helped Alfred wash the dishes and clear out the dinner before heading down to the cave.

You could hear a fight going on as you made your way down, shouts getting louder the closer you got. Jason was pacing as he talked, screamed, at Dick who remained silent, arms crossed while he looked at Jason, his troubled expression the only sign of his emotions.

"How's everything going, guys?" You asked as soon as you stepped out of the elevator, brow raised knowingly at them.

“It's going great” Jason's smile as he came towards you showing it was anything but. “Come on y/n, we're leaving”

“Jay, please, just think about it.”

“I said, no, Dick.” Jason said, taking your hand as he walked towards the elevator.

“What is he talking about?” you asked, pulling back to stop him.

“Nothing.” His answer was short, not looking at you.

"How is it nothing? I wouldn't ask you, beg you, if it were nothing." Dick sighed, pulling at his hair as he looked down, almost defeated.

"What is it?" You asked Dick, his head shooting up to look at you.

"It's this case we've been working on..."

"Don't tell her! She does-"

"No," You cut him off, "I want to know. What is it Dick?"

He shot a glance at Jason before he answered.

"We've been tracking an organization that's been involved in drugs for the most part, but as of lately, they've moved to weapons and human trafficking." He shook his head. "Guess they found a better way to make money."

"Those bastards." Jason said under his breath, huffing behind you.

"We've been following them in Gotham and Bludhaven for a while, but never got to the source." He looked at Jason, "that is, until Jason's last report."

You suck a breath. If they found the source then it means they could take them down forever. They could free not only Gotham and Bludhaven, but any other place they could have a base.

"We are going to the location. Take them by surprise, before they leave." Dick finished, crossing his arms.

You grabbed Jason's hand, feeling the heat of his body behind you. This was big, too important to let it pass and he knew too.

“When are they leaving?” you asked Dick, ignoring the look Jason was surely giving you.

“Right now.” he grimaced, “Bruce and Tim just left, they are on their way to the airport.”

You looked back at Jason, his eyes already on you. You could tell what he was thinking, you just got your time back, and now he was leaving, but you could also tell how much he wanted to help. That's why you knew what to say next.

“You should go, Jason.” The surprise on his face as you answered was one for the books.

“Y/n…” He began to say, still confused. You smiled in reassurance, taking his hand in yours.

“Even I know this is your best chance at getting them.” you squeezed his hand. “So, go.”

He stared at you for a while before he asked, “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. Go.” You patted his arm, giving him a little push towards his bike.

He stumbled back a few steps, his eyes never leaving you. He looked like a kicked puppy, and you couldn't help laughing a little.

“I’ll be fine , Jason." You fought for your smile to reach your eyes. "I'll be here when you get back."

“Okay.” was all he said after a long pause, barely a whisper, his eyes never leaving yours until he moved. He got into his bike, sending a quick message to Bruce to tell them he was going.

"I love you." He said before putting on the helmet, starting his bike before he left.

The sound of the engine almost covering your answer. "I love you too."

You watched him leave with Dick at your side, the cave suddenly too quiet for the two of you. Now that he had left you couldn't hold onto the smile anymore. You sighed, rubbing at your eyes to keep the tears threatening to come out at bay.

You paced the cave for a while, not wanting to stay still, too afraid of what would happen if you did until you finally stopped, letting your mind do the pacing.

You felt Dick at your side a moment after, his hand rubbing your shoulder to comfort you.

“Don't worry y/n. I'll stay here to monitor if there's any movement in Gotham”, his hand on you a comfortable weight, “I’ll also be in contact with them 24/7. If anything happens, you'll be the first to know.”

You sighed again, something you've been doing lately, tension leaving your body at his words. At least there'll be someone taking care of him.

“Thank you, Dick.” He flashed you a smile, offering his arm to you

“No problem. Come on, I'll take you home.” You smiled in response, taking his arm in yours.

Like that, hours became days, days became weeks, and before you knew it, 2 months had passed. Two months since he left. Two months since you've been alone. No. You weren't alone, he was still out there, working hard, saving people, and yet, you couldn't help feeling that way.

Dick was true to his word, letting you know everything as it happened, day by day, he would call to update you on the mission. Even when there was nothing to report he'd still call you, sometimes to talk, sometimes to listen, you knew he was trying to cheer you up, and you were grateful for that.

Other days you would go to the mansion, spending time with Alfred, letting him guide you through the mansion, telling you stories about Jason and the rest when they were young or chatting through a cup of tea, and with Dick down in the cave, as the two of you checked on them, how they were doing, if they were okay. It had become sort of a routine as you waited.

You were making your way home when your phone went off, your boss sending you home earlier and giving you the next day free after spending the last weeks working overtime, threatening to fire you if you came back without resting. You checked the id before answering, smiling when Dick's name showed on the screen.

"Hey Dick! How’s everything going?" You answered cheerfully, your good mood coming out.

"Hey y/n"

"I just saw Bruce giving an interview. Why didn't you tell me they were back?"

"Y/n…"

“And why hasn't my boy called to tell me? I swear if he tries another of his surprises…” you stopped mid sentence, Dick unusually quiet for a call like this. Anxiety building up inside you before you asked, ” Hey… what is it Dick?”

"Y/n…"

"What?"

"Is Jason.."

"What happened?" you said, dread gnawing on your insides

"I think it'll be better if you come to the mansion."

"I don't see how going there would be any different from telling me now."

“…” His silence became unbearable, your patience thinning with every second that passed.

The last of it breaking as you shouted, "Dick! Tell me!", worry more than clear in your voice.

He heaved a sigh before speaking. "They managed to get most of the men, but their leader managed to escape. He and another guy got into a plane and Jason followed them."

You breathed in sharply.

"He got onto the plane. It was loaded with weapons, mostly explosives. It took off before they could go with him"

No.

"A fight broke and there was a shooting"

No.

“A missing bullet must've hit one of those crates and” he took a deep breath, “the plane exploded.”

No!

"It fell into the sea"

You held onto the wall, your legs giving out, making you slide down to the floor

"Where is he?"

"They've been looking all through the ocean nonstop. So far, they've found two bodies. They’re still looking for hi.., him."

“Don't you have a way of knowing this!? A signal, something?” You were shouting, not caring for the looks people were giving you as they passed.

"The tracker was on his helmet, we believe it got destroyed in the explosion, that's why they haven't been able to find him yet."

It couldn't be. This isn't happening. Not- not again. Not to him.

“Y/n-”

“I'm going there” you cut him out, ending the call.

The next thing felt like a blur, each of his words ringing over and over inside your mind.

The plane exploded.

They are still looking for him.

There's still a chance.

You took a cab to the mansion, barely paying attention to the ride. You jumped out once you reached Wayne Manor, running as fast as you could to the entrance, Alfred already there before you could reach the door, so you went straight down to the cave, Dick waiting for you at the elevator.

“Hey y/n…”

“Please Dick. Tell me it isn't true” you shook him by the shoulders, trying to to stop yourself from crying. “Please tell me it isn't”, eyes burning as you pleaded

“I wish it was” he grabbed your wrists, rubbing circles, trying to comfort you as much as he could.

You shook your head, casting down your eyes, not wanting to see the truth you'd find in his. You didn't want to believe it.

“Please, please please please….” You could feel yourself falling down, your legs no longer holding you for a second time this day.

Dick hugged you, keeping you from reaching the floor. “I'm sorry y/n”

“No!” Tears blurred your vision. Your arms rounding his neck as you hug him back, his hold on you tightening.

It was your fault.

Maybe if you hadn't told him. If you had stopped him before he left, maybe then he'd still be here, still with you. Still alive.

No.

You wouldn't have changed a thing.

You knew Jason, you knew he thought the same. He wanted to help, that's all he's ever wanted. To give a meaning to his actions. He wanted to help those in need, to be useful, to be good. That's why he went, your words only helping to ease the worry of leaving you alone. That's why you said it, and you'd never regret it, and neither would he.

It wasn't your fault.

A sound from behind made you look back. Batman turned from the computer, taking a few steps before removing his cowl. He looked tired, defeated. So different from the looks he had for the cameras not long ago.

You ignored the way he looked, anger rising like a fire making you move away from Dick.

“It was you!” You shouted across the cave. Tears sliding down your cheeks as you made your way to Bruce

“You did this!” you hit him on the chest, your fists colliding with his armor. His face was tired, eyes filled with sadness. He had failed him again.

“You had to look out for him!” Another punch.

“You had to save him!” you said through your tears, your fists losing force.

“Why didn't you save him?” you finally sobed, pressing your forehead against him. The fire burning away, leaving only ashes, your body suddenly cold.

“I’m sorry” was all he said as he held your shaking body while you cried. His warmth and the feel of his arms on your back a comfort around you, but not the one you wanted, the one you may never have again.

You stayed at the mansion after that. Once you had calmed down Dick took you to one of the rooms, giving you a little briefing of what was going on. Tim had stayed on the island, looking over the search in case they found him. Meanwhile Bruce tried looking with the satellites, see if any of the old trackers in his body were still active. If what you knew was true, there was no point on doing that. Jason had taken them all out long ago, not wanting any of them keeping checks on him. Still, it was something, better than nothing.

You felt empty, and yet, hope remained in you, like embers of a fire not quite out, waiting for any kind of fuel to light up again.

You stayed for a week before deciding it was time to go back, those days barely spent doing the bare minimum, crying yourself to sleep every night, trying to console yourself as much as you could, after all you only had so much time off work, you still had to live your life, try to move on and wait.

So you did.

You kept working, doing as much to keep your mind from spiraling that way, from staying as far from your apartment as you could. Still your home but one that's grown colder with every passing day. It was hard, sadness and despair threatening to keep you from doing anything every day, and yet you pushed. For him. Moping around was not something he'd like for you, even if he wasn't here, but he could, if they haven't found a body yet you could still hope, you could still wait.

Hope was slipping down like water through your fingers. You tried to hold on to as much as you could, as long as there was even the tiniest possibility, you would, you could still believe he was coming back, coming home, coming to you.

What else was left?

The sound of your phone woke you up. You checked the clock on your stand. Not yet time for you to wake up, and barely one hour sleeping. Another night of tossing around, unable to sleep, the thoughts in your head too loud to let you rest.

You grabbed your phone, the name on the screen no longer making you smile. You sat up, moving your covers aside, letting your feet touch the floor, the coldness of it waking you up.

You took a deep a deep breath, steeling yourself before answering, getting ready for whatever was going to happen.

But nothing in the world could have prepared you for what was going to happen next.

"Hello Dick." You said, breathing deeply through your nose.

"Hello y/n. How are you?"

"What is it?" You ignored his question, going straight to the point. Whatever it was, you could take it.

You could hear Dick pacing around, almost hear the gears in his head trying to think a way of telling you the news

You could take it.

"There's been news on Jason"

You could.

"They found him"

You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding, a wave of relief washing over you.

"You did!?" you shouted, "How is he? Is he- ?" You tried to ask everything at once, barely able to contain yourself before he stopped you.

"We don't know, y/n. The body-"

Your heart went still.

"It's been too long. "

The body.

"We are waiting for it to arrive. Run some tests, dental records, DNA.."

Not him.

"Due to his legal status we can't let them know it's him. We have to wait until he's back with us in Gotham"

"You're sure it's him?" you felt yourself asking, no longer connected to your body.

"There was no one else on that plane they hadn't found"

The last ember of hope went off inside you, leaving smoke to fill its place.

"Y/n?"

"I have to go."

"Wait, y/n! Let me come get you-"

"Goodbye Dick."

You ended the call.

Your phone hitting the floor at the same time you did, hugging you legs tight to your chest, tears burning your eyes, wetting your cheeks. The lump in your throat making it hard to swallow.

And just like that, as if a switch had turned inside you.

You screamed.

Screamed with every fiber of your being, your body shaking every time you did. Your tears falling down like rivers you wanted to drown in. You weren't crying, crying meant sadness, sometimes even happiness, an emotion so big it couldn't be contained inside, whose only way out is like that. This was so much more.

It was pain, full, raw, unbounded. It was despair and sadness, all coming out at once. It was your soul breaking, its shards leaving you with every scream, with every tear, making your face wet, your eyes burn, leaving your throat raw and hurting.

You did it until the smoke inside you left, leaving you hollow. You had to calm down, sobbing thickly, your vision blurry with drying tears.

You tried to breath, the air suddenly becoming too thick, making you dizzy. You could feel the walls pressing on you, too tight, too cold.

You were breaking, your chest hurt, like it would collapse any time now, taking your heart with it.

You needed to leave.

You left your apartment, not bothering to take a coat, welcoming the freezing air, letting it's bite bring you alive.

The streets were empty, fitting for the occasion, like they knew you needed to be alone. You closed your eyes, letting your head fall back as you took a deep breath, and began to walk.

You didn't know how long you were out. Walking aimlessly around letting the pain take you whole, your mind no longer there, trying to escape the grief that consumed you.

You felt hollow, empty, and yet, so full at the same time. Full of fear, of sadness, of anger. Jason was gone, and you didn't know how you'll fill the hole he left inside you. You weren't sure you could. You could only hope you'd learn to live with it, learn to ignore the pain and maybe one day, heal. Just not today, right now you would mourn, let everything out, even if there was nothing left inside.

Your feet were hurting, cold biting your skin, making you shiver before you decided to head back home, taking your usual shortcut through the alley.

Your head was still somewhere else, not even stopping to think about the dangers of your actions. It was Gotham after all, and Jason was no longer here to protect you.

By the time you realized what you’d done, it was too late.

With your head down you made your way to your apartment, less of a home now that he was no longer here, hugging yourself tightly, trying to keep the warmth from leaving. The sole of your shoes echoed through the alley with every step, digging into your flesh, making it hard to walk. The sky rumbled in the distance, which meant you had to hurry if you didn't want to get caught in the rain.

A sound ahead of you took you out of your musings, a second pair of steps joining yours making you look up. A man appeared right at the entrance of the alley, hood up and hands tucked inside his pockets, he walked confidently, like the biggest fish in the pond. The faint light of a nearby post lighting up his face, you could see his eyes fixed on you, his mouth turning to a smirk, whistling as he looked at you.

“Hey pretty, what got you out so late at night?”

You lowered back your head, still moving forward.

“I have to say, I wasn't expecting such a beauty to be roaming here when I came to to see who’s coming, but am I glad it is” he kept talking, almost too close now, making you slow down a fraction as you tried to get out.

“Haha, what is it? Cat got your tongue?” you could fill him right in front of you, making you stop before you could collide with him.

“Is it because we're alone? You don't feel comfortable talking with me? Is it the street? Maybe you need to warm up a little, the street is too cold to be out like that. Don’t worry sugar, we can fix that right away.”

You began to panic. One you could take out, outrun him and lose him, but if he was bringing more. You tried to stay calm.

“Hey, boys! Why don’t we help them feel more comfortable.” You raised your head, fear almost taking over at his words.

From the same place the first one came, two other men joined him, each of them flanking you on either side, both just as big, and the three of them smiling, their eyes roaming your body like they could see what's underneath your clothes.

“Leave me alone.” you said, trying to sound as confident as you could.

“Heh, looks like you're not a mute after all.” He laughed, taking a hold of your arm in a vice grip

“Don't touch me.” he laughed again, turning to look at the others, both doing the same.

“Let me go!” you shouted, pulling at your arm, trying to hit him, kick him, anything to get you free.

“Feisty, we're gonna need to fix that. Can't have you misbehaving like that, can we?” He let you go with a push, making you fall to the ground, the three of them laughing down at you.

You shook yourself, wincing as you stood, your left foot probably hurt. Your mind was running a mile per hour, adrenaline pumping through your veins with every breath, trying to come up with a wayout, a way to escape. You tried to look at your surroundings, taking deep breaths to calm you down, nothing good comes out from being anxious.

You were surrounded by residential buildings, maybe you could scream, ask for help, but screaming in Gotham did the opposite, people ignoring it for the sake of remaining safe.

You could bolt it, turn around and run as fast as you could, go back to the street and hopefully they'll avoid going after you. The guy on your left seemed to think the same, his hand going for the gun on his hip.

You could try calling Dick, or Bruce, but something told you he'd shot you the moment you even tried to pull out your cell phone. Maybe they were already on their way, looking for you, seeing how distressed you were by the news, but maybe not, maybe they were trying to give you space, let you sort things out. Alone.

You were trapped.

“Don't worry, we’ll be leaving soon. Ride's almost here.” the man on your right said, his smirk getting wider.

So much for being calm. You began to panic, breaths coming short as the men in front of you laughed, snickering between them, watching you crumble.

The sound of tires screeching behind you had you covering your ears, the echoing almost deafening, freezing you on the spot.

No. Not like this. They can't take you away.

You closed your eyes, as if it could somehow block out the world, make it turn into a dream, a nightmare you would wake up from. The pounding of your heart too loud on your ears to hear anything else, almost missing the presence behind you.

Your body moved on its own, going backwards like you could escape from it. The sound of someone coming closer hitting like a bullet with every step. They walked with confidence, fast, like an animal who had caught its prey, sure they couldn't escape.

You could feel your heart fall as you collided with a body, stopping you from moving any further, making your eyes burn as you tried not to cry, not in front of them. You jumped as he held you, his chest shaking behind you as he laughed.

The way he laughed sent shivers down your spine, the hands on you too hot. Too wrong. He squeezed your shoulders once before you felt the air on your back, freezing you as he moved away, his hands sliding down your arms as he bent down, his face getting closer to your ear.

“Don't be scared” his breath felt hot, making you whimper, no longer able to hold it in, letting your tears fall freely as you cried. Closing your eyes tighter, not letting them open.

You could feel him move in front of you, his face still close, nuzzling your neck as he whispered, “I'm right here.” You let out a sob, the force of it bringing you down.

It had to be a dream, it had to. There was no way this could be real, for he voice that spoke just moments ago was supposed to be dead.

Your love.

Jason.

The men that held you captive went silent. Holding their breaths at the sight of him, the Red Hood. The deadliest vigilante in all of Gotham crouching in front of you.

He raised his hand to brush away your tears, kissing your forehead before he stood up

“Keep your eyes closed.” he said. You let out a huff, only he could sound amused in a situation like this.

The whole thing was over in seconds. The sound of flesh hitting flesh, bones cracking, the smell of gunpowder flooding your nose with each shot fired, all of it filling the silence. One by one, they all went down, their screams stopping as they each fell. Only when the last of the bodies hit the ground were you able to relax. Your eyes still closed for another reason entirely, now wishing it’d be anything but a dream.

How could you live if it turned out to be just that, if you opened your eyes just find yourself back at your apartment, your tears still fresh and Jason still gone, dead once more.

“Y/n.” You heard him call your name, his voice ever so soft, cautious not to scare you.

You heard him shuffle, crouching once more in front of you. His body blocking the cold air of the night.

“Y/n… Look at me.” he held your face like you were precious, delicate, capable of breaking at the slightest movement, the pads of his thumbs brushing your lashes, trying to coax your eyes to open.

You shook your head, feeling tears fall again, the hands on you catching them before they fell to the floor.

“Please.” he pleaded, his voice full of want, of longing, as he whispered the word, his forehead warm against yours as his hands fell to your neck, rubbing your chin and behind your ears trying to get you to open, to see.

You took in a couple of breaths, steeling yourself before opening your eyes, the faint lights blinding you after having them closed for so long.

The moment you could focus on the person in front of you making you sob. The sight of him threatening to make you cry for the third time this night. He looked just like the last time you saw him, a couple of scratches here and there, but the same nonetheless. The same face, the same smile, the same pair eyes full of warmth, full of love as they looked at you.

You raised your hand to his face, slowly, careful, still not believing this was real.

“Is it really you?” you asked, voice shaking as you looked into his eyes.

“It's me.” a faint smile drawing on his face as he answered, placing his hand over yours, keeping it in place.

You cast down down your eyes, head hanging low as you shook it, not sure if shaking away the tears or something else.

His other hand came up, his fingers hooking up under chin, warm and gentle as he made you stop, tilting up your head, guiding you to look at him.

“It's me.” he said again, his eyes filling up with tears as he held your stare.

You grabbed his hand, placing it against you like he did with yours as you let out a laugh, happiness bubbling inside you before exploding, flinging yourself to hug him. Your arms tight around him, trying to bring him as close as you could. The force of your hug almost made him fall back, losing his balance before he recovered, putting his arms around you as he returned the hug just as fiercely, careful not to hurt you.

“It's you.” you said it over and over like a prayer.

You stayed like that for a while, basking in each other's presence, finally together. You weren't sure how much it had passed before you both let go, a thunder rumbling in the distance reminded you of your situation. You had to hurry if you didn't want to get caught in the rain, and yet, none of you made the effort to move.

A thought came to you as you looked at him, a memory of a conversation that now feels from too long ago.

“You promised you wouldn't do it again.” You said, your fist colliding with his arm.

His hand went to the spot you hit, feigning hurt as he laughed. “I said maybe.”

You couldn’t help but laugh too, too happy to stay mad at him. Not when he was here, when this wasn’t a dream.

With that thought you held him again, nuzzling your face to his chest, inhaling his scent, his hands rubbing up and down your back before settling on your waist, drawing you closer to him.

“Thank you for coming back.” you whispered softly, not sure he would hear you.

“Thank you for waiting.” he said in the same way.

You kissed as you both embraced, your arms around his neck, pressing your bodies tight against each other, the warmth between the two enough to ignore the cold as it began to rain.

Tag list: @togasknifes @thelindalorian @fizassyeda @apric-t @brightjimini @candlestudy @dickgraysonsscrumptiousbooty @profoundgreenturtle @little-miss-naill @drebi-san @vanessafinessa473 @hamilstuck99 (Message me if you want to be added!)

#jason todd #batman #dick grayson #bruce wayne #red hood #Nightwing #jason todd x reader #jason todd reader insert #jason todd x you #jason todd imagine #jason todd red hood #red hood x you #red hood reader insert #red hood x reader #red hood imagine #tw dead mention

[dukethomas]

Summary: Duke’s parents recover and come home. Written for Duke Week 2021 Day Six: Family Bonding.

I was going to write something angstier for this prompt, but it actually turned into just the comfort part of hurt/comfort. Sometimes I need a good cry about something good happening to characters I love.

Also read it here on AO3!

-

His parents were back.

His parents were back, and Duke could cry and cry and cry forever. He sobbed into his mom’s shoulder for who knows how long when he saw them. His mom pat his back—he was taller than her now—and murmured to him, “It’s okay, baby bird. We’re here.”

The use of the nickname he hadn’t heard since he was in elementary school made him sob harder.

His mom and his dad were, were okay, their mouths weren’t contorted into unnatural grins and they didn’t carry that gleam of hatred and they said they were so sorry and they loved him so much and wow, hadn’t he grown up so much—he turned out to be the spitting image of his mother, didn’t he think?

Duke didn’t think he’d ever stop crying.

“I missed you,” he blubbered. “I missed you every day, I swear, I tried so hard to find a cure or something—”

His dad smiled at him, softly, tears in the corners of his eyes. “And you did. We’re right here, Duke. You brought us back.”

He had to call Jay to pick them up, because his parents no longer had licenses and Duke didn’t trust his hands to not shake in the full force of his joy.

-

In the days that followed, Duke didn’t go out as the Signal. How could he? This all felt like a fever dream; he’d been wanting this for so long. If he didn’t spend every waking moment with his parents, he feared they could revert back to what they were, and it would be a dream after all.

Jay took a few days off of work, and Duke called in sick for a few days at school. The Thomas family glowed with genuine grins, because they were whole. They spent the time catching his mom and dad up on what they missed, and having fun playing games or going out the rest of the time. To his dad’s chagrin, Duke had gotten much better at chess, but no one could beat his mom at Monopoly.

Then life came crashing down around them. Jay had to go to work, Duke had to go back to school, and his parents needed to begin a new chapter of their lives. Unbeknownst to Jay and his parents, Duke skipped his first day back at school to chase down a string of thefts he’d read about in the news.

He could never stay away from Signal for long. Gotham needed him, needed all the help it could get.

It wasn’t a difficult case, by any means. Mad Hatter was about as subtle as a barge. Still, Duke embraced the thrill of hunting them down, as the trail of clues led him right towards a newly opened costume store, Wonderland Haberdashery.

Again. Subtle as a barge.

“What are we waiting for?” a man dressed as a giant white rabbit complained.

The dormouse next to him shushed him loudly. She hissed, “The boss’ signal.”

Duke took that as his cue. He launched into action, running forward with a well-timed punch to the rabbit’s face. “You’ve got one right here.” (Those jokes never got old.)

He let himself loose, using all of his training as well as his own metahuman power to demolish his way through the storybook-themed goons. He couldn’t fight the grin on his face; he was having too much fun. His heart reached a thunderous frenzy in his ears and he loved every second of it. These guys couldn’t touch him.

When the time came to knock out Jervis Tetch himself, Duke obliged with glee. He’d just finished tying him to the wall when his phone buzzed with a notification.

It was three, school was over, and he should be heading home. His parents should be home.

His parents were home. It still felt surreal.

He ran into Jay’s apartment and kicked off his shoes faster than he ever had when doing a superheroic change of clothes.

“Hey Mom! Hey Dad! I’m home!” he called. When he heard no response, a chill went down his spine, and he rushed to the living room. There, his parents sat on the couch, fixated on the TV. The news channel was on, talking about an altercation at—oh.

It was talking about him.

“That’s you,” his mom said without turning back to look at him.

A wad of bile as large as a stone formed in his throat. He knew Bruce probably had contingencies for if anyone guessed his identity. Deny it, prove that he was in school, get a shapeshifter to pose as Signal in the same room as him. But he couldn’t stop himself from saying, “Yeah.” He couldn’t, he wouldn’t lie to his parents. “Are you upset?”

He’d imagined this scenario many times. What would his parents say about his vigilantism? He was risking his life every time he was out there, and no parent would want that, but he was helping Gotham. He was helping Gotham’s people, just like they had taught him to do.

“Let me take a look at you,” his mom told him, beckoning him towards the couch. Duke listened, sitting in between his mom and dad. His mom cupped his face with her rough hands, and he leaned into the touch. “It’s dangerous,” she murmured; Duke squeezed his eyes shut.

A firm arm reached around his shoulders, holding him tight. His dad. “But you’re happy,” he said.

Duke nodded, his chin trembling.

They dwelled in a moment’s pause, until he was being hugged from both sides. Duke opened his eyes to see his parents with faint smiles. “We couldn’t be there for you,” said his mom, “but you found yourself.”

“I did,” Duke whispered, crying for the millionth time this week. “I did.”

“We’re so, so unbelievably proud of the person you’ve grown up to be, baby bird. We just wish… we just wish we could have been here to see it happen.”

-

His parents laid down some ground rules. No more skipping school unless he had all his assignments done and he had straight A’s. He had to be home for dinner, and after sundown he was off his shift. He could join night shift with the other Bats only twice a week in a limited capacity, and he had to go to sleep before midnight on school nights. And he would tell Jay his secret.

That had been the hardest one. Duke could barely get the words out, suddenly filled with shame for not telling Jay earlier.

But as it turned out, Jay already suspected it. “I’m no genius, but you’re disappearing constantly. I can never find you. Wayne takes you out of Gotham all the time. That’s not just an internship, Duke.” His jaw hardened. “But don’t think that I’m going to be the cool cousin now and let you break any of those new rules your parents set. Safety first.”

Duke rolled his eyes and hugged him. “Love you, man.”

“Love you too, rascal.”

He had to let Bruce know. He’d been keeping in touch with Bruce throughout all of this, but sparingly. He got the vibe that Bruce was keeping his distance out of respect for him and his parents.

Well, no more of that. Duke shot off a text to Bruce to let him know he was coming, then pocketed his phone. “Hey, Mom? Dad? You wanna ride with me on my motorcycle to Wayne Manor?”

He wouldn’t have actually done it (it was too big of an identity risk), but it was worth it to see his parents’ briefly stunned looks before his dad started chasing him with a noogie at the ready.

Jay drove them all to Wayne Manor. His mom and dad walked out of the car tentatively, scrutinizing their surroundings. Duke fidgeted with his shirt, wondering what they thought. For all intents and purposes, this was his home, if only for a little over a year.

Duke rang the doorbell, ready to greet Alfred, but it was Bruce who opened the door for once. The way he held himself struck Duke. It wasn’t extravagant and flighty like Brucie, nor grim and tense like Batman. Duke’s family were some of the very few to see Bruce Wayne as he really was, without a persona.

“You took Duke in while we were… unavailable,” his mom said before Bruce could say hello.

“Yes,” replied Bruce calmly, wearing something on his face Duke didn’t often see. Vulnerability. Anxiety .

His dad held out his hand. “Doug Thomas. Thank you. Thank you for taking care of our boy.”

“It was a pleasure.” Bruce shook Duke’s dad’s hand. “Duke was a delight to mentor and guide. I’m glad he has you both back.”

Duke grinned. “He says I’m a delight but he didn’t think so every time I snuck out of the Manor to track down a lead.”

“You were supposed to be on bed rest.”

“And I rested, in a bed, after I solved the case! I do it every night when I sleep—that’s working overtime on bed rest, Bruce.”

“And you won’t be pulling any of that with us, young man,” his mom told him in a stern tone.

Duke quickly made his eyes as wide, pleading, and innocent as possible. He would never, he was about to say, when Bruce told them to come in.

“A better man than I expected him to be,” his dad said once Bruce had moved far enough he wouldn't hear. His mom hummed in agreement. “And Duke, you felt safe with him?”

Duke snorted. “Define safe.”

“Smartass,” Jay muttered, behind the three of them. He’d been through the tour already. He had a begrudging respect for Bruce, but he wasn’t impressed.

“And who taught me to do that, ever since I was a little kid?”

Duke yelped as he dodged a smack from Jay. “I’m fragile, don’t hurt me!”

“You’re not fragile,” said the amused voice coming from down the hall. Cass, here because Duke asked her to be. Because he wanted his family to meet his family.

“Oh! Mom, Dad, Jay, this is Cass.” He dragged them over to meet her. “She’s like… she’s my sister.”

Cass nodded, observing Duke’s family. “Good to meet you.”

At his parents’ confused glance, he told them, “When you were gone, I made new friends, but I also found new family. Cass isn’t your daughter or Jay’s cousin, but she’s my sister.” In his chest, he felt a weight alleviate, one he hadn’t even been aware of. “Wait until you meet Damian. Remember how I always wanted a baby brother when I was a kid, but you guys kept telling me that I was enough of a handful?”

As he kept introducing his parents to the family he made, he felt a warmth grow within him, tickling his ribs, infecting his lungs. It was like he couldn’t do anything but beam from ear to ear, now that he had almost everyone important in his life gathered together. (He would introduce them to Izzy, Riko, and the rest of the Robins soon.)

His family had been shattered, but Duke had picked up the pieces and created something new. And it could never be the way it was, but that was okay. Duke was happy with his family the way it was now.

His parents were home; all his family was home. Duke couldn’t be happier.

#dukeweek2021 #duke thomas #doug thomas #elaine thomas #dc #batfam #crys writes #this doesn't actually have..... a plot. but that's okay <3 #me writing duke and his parents: so how do normal people without my specific parental issues act

[phis-corner]

I recently read your platonic brucinette post, it was amazing, i couldn't stop laughing. What if she invites herself over to the Manor or something and the boys have no idea who she is (cause I feel like he wouldn't mention her cause she would probably ruin his reputation even more since his kids would probably spread the stories to their own friends) but I feel like maybe Tim already know her since he was in Paris looking for Bruce (when he got "killed" by Darkseid), he would probably see her as a mom or fun aunt that he could vent to

Ask and you shall recieve! again, any grammar mistakes are because I did not bother proofreading. whoops.

Masterlist ◈ Original

Dick Grayson had seen a lot of unexpected things throughout his lifetime, but he really did not expect to come downstairs for a nice bowl of cereal for breakfast and find a woman who looked eerily like the late Martha Wayne sitting at the table and eating his Bat Puffs.

Wait.

“Those are my Bat Puffs!” Dick shrieks, because he has priorities. That’s the last of his cereal, okay? And it’s going to be two days before Alfred goes on his next grocery run and he’s really bad at shopping for food on his own. Sue him.

Not-Or-Maybe-Possibly-If-You-Believe-Conspiracy-Theories-Martha-Wayne simply laughs, and easily dances out of the way of his grab for the bowl, moving out of his reach with an elegance and grace that can only mean she spends part of her day dressed in a different costume. Whether or not she was a good guy still remained to be seen, considering she had somehow broken into the Manor without setting a single alarm off and was currently eating the last of his Bat Puffs. 

A truly despicable act, indeed.

“Grayson?” Damian chooses that exact moment to come down the stairs. “I heard you scream. What’s-” He snarls the moment he catches sight of Not-Martha-Wayne, pulling out a knife from somewhere in the folds of his pajamas and hurling it at her head with impressive speed and accuracy.

Not-Martha-Wayne simply ducks, letting the knife thud into the wall behind her, making Dick wince. Alfred was not going to be happy.

“Identify yourself, woman!” Damian screeches, pulling out another knife. “Who are you, and how did you get in here?”

Not-Martha-Wayne tilts her head, blue eyes sparkling with mirth. “Really? I’m not even allowed to eat cereal in my own home now?”

Dick is slowly growing more and more convinced that Not-Martha-Wayne is actually Zombie-Martha-Wayne.

Damian freezes, eyeing her suspiciously. “Your home?”

“Wh’s goin’ on?” Tim slurs, stumbling down the stairs. “Why ‘re you all screamin’?”

Maybe-Zombie-Martha-Wayne brightens when she sees Tim. “Timber! How’s it going?”

Tim rubs his eyes, once, twice, and then his face splits into a grin when he finally registers Maybe-Zombie-Martha-Wayne’s presence. “Marinette! It’s so good to see you!”

And okay, what.

Tim hurries down the stairs (meaning only marginally faster than before, he hasn’t had his morning coffee yet,) and ignores the coffee machine in favor of hugging Possibly-Undead-Martha-Wayne, who laughs and puts down the bowl of Bat Puffs in favor of hugging him back. Dick takes the opportunity to snatch the bowl away from her, mourning the fact that there’s only a bit of milk left at the bottom of the bowl.

“Good to see you too, Tim,” Not-Martha-Wayne, whose name is apparently Marinette (why does that sound familiar?) ruffles Tim’s hair. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“Tim,” Dick says, at the same time Damian demands “Drake.”

“How do you know this woman?” They say at the same time (Dick stubbornly ignores that Damian replaced ‘woman’ with ‘harlot’).

“You mean you don’t?” Tim asks, frowning. “She’s-”

“Marinette,” Bruce cuts Tim off, having appeared at the foot of the stairs in his usual dramatic fashion. 

Not-Martha-Wayne-But-Still-Really-Looks-Like-Her-Whose-Name-Is-Apparently-Marinette beams and waves cheerfully at Bruce, who looks done with life. “Hey, little brother! I see you haven’t gotten tired of dressing up as a giant bat to beat people up yet!”

Well, that was a lot to unpack. Dick decided he’d start with the easiest thing.

“Little brother?” He looks from Marinette to Bruce, Bruce to Marinette, noting the resemblance in both of them to Thomas and Martha Wayne. “You mean- she’s your older sister?” Dick shrieks, turning to Bruce. “Why have we never heard about her?”

“Really, Bruce?” Marinette gasps, mockingly placing a hand over her heart. “I’m devastated. How could you, after everything we’ve been through, not even tell your hundred thousand children that I even exist?”

Bruce doesn’t reply, instead letting out one long sigh through his nose. Huh. Sixteen whole seconds. Impressive.

“Just kidding,” Marinette grins once Bruce has finally stopped sighing. “He’s never told you because I travel the world a lot, my job is super dangerous, and because I’d expose all his deepest, darkest secrets.”

“Like his greatest fears?” Damian asks. Cass, who had silently entered the kitchen at some point or another, stood behind him, ready just in case he pulled out another knife.

Marinette tilts her head. “What? No!” Like how he wiped off one of the eyebrows on Sylvia McCartney’s face when he was four-”

She doesn’t get to finish that sentence because Bruce has made a mad dash across the kitchen, evidently aiming to get her to stay quiet. Marinette dances out of his hold with a giggle and continues speaking even as Bruce chases her all around the kitchen.

“-anyway, he declared that ‘she had something on her face’, wiped off one of her drawn-on eyebrows-” She ducks underneath a plate, which Cass deftly catches before it hits the wall. “-and then went ‘There. I got it for you!’”

A shoe flies at her head. Marinette bats it away with one hand. 

Dick tries valiantly to stifle his snickers, but judging by the evil eye Bruce is giving him, it’s not quite working.

“And there was that time we were at that four-star restaurant in Star City and he ate too much and-” Marinette raises an eyebrow as she catches a toaster in her hands. “Really now, Bruce? A toaster? You know it’ll take more than that to stop me. So he ate too much and got a stomach ache, then started holding his torso and very loudly declaring that he was starting his period.”

Dick doesn’t even bother holding in the laughter this time, and neither do any of his siblings. If only Jason was here to see this, but alas, he was at his own apartment and had no clue that this was going on. Neither did Steph, for that matter, and Duke was already out on patrol since he was somehow a morning person. What a travesty.

“And then there was that time when-” Marinette is cut off by another one of Bruce’s long, very drawn-out sighs. 

“Look, Mari, I think they get the point,” He groans (well - as close to groaning as the Batman ever got), pinching the bridge of his nose. “You can stop now.”

“Oh, you’re just annoyed that you couldn’t stop me,” Marinette retorts with yet another smile, and Dick is once again struck by how similar she looks to the lady in the portrait that hangs over the fireplace in the largest of the Manor’s three living rooms. “I suppose you’re right, however. Despite the abundance of embarrassing stories, they do run out at some point, and I’d prefer not to use them all up in one go, ya know? I have to be the cool aunt. Kate can keep wine aunt, but I’m the cool one now.”

“I think Miss Katherine might disagree with that,” Alfred says mildly. “However, I do believe you can win the children over if you tell them about the time your father brought Master Bruce to his board meeting.”

The look of utter betrayal Bruce gives Alfred makes them crack up all over again.

--o0o--

“Man, I am so glad you got it all on camera,” Duke grins, placing two bowls of popcorn on the coffee table before flopping back down onto the couch. “This is going to be great.”

Tim waves a hand dismissively. “I just hacked the cameras in the Manor. Bruce’s paranoia backfired this time.”

Steph cheers and immediately makes a grab for the popcorn as Cass hits the play button on the remote, and Dick can’t help but crack a smile at his own face when he sees the last of his cereal being eaten.

“Richard, I find it concerning that your first thought was of your cereal and not the intruder,” Damian observes.

Dick ruffles his hair, drawing out a squawk of protest. “Well, what can I say? I really like Bat Puffs.”

The Wayne siblings settle down for a movie night that is definitely going to be filled with lots of laughter.

permanent tags

@wannajointhecrabcult @miraculous-simmer7 @certainmuffinbagelcalzone @fantasyislive @chocolateherringtacofan @junarvion @susiej1118 @aestheticnpoetic @toodaloo-kangaroo @ladybug-182 @itsmeevie01 @g-arya @souleateralicestein @nightstarblue @i-is-mysterious @moonystars14 @vixen-uchiha @flapdoodle-noodle @labschaos @nathleigh @jalaluvsu @kaithehero @iamablinkmarvelarmy @luveverything12 @technicallyburninggarden 

unspecified

@momothefemur @indecisive-mess-named-me @laurcad123 @ilovefluffbutsmutisalsogreat @sassakitty @fusser90

#maribat #my writing #asks #platonic brucinette

[liptonsbabe]

Chains of a family [B.W]

Bill Weasley x Grant! Reader

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4

Summary: The reader has left the burrow trying to hide from Molly’s harsh comments. Bill’s mom doesn’t want his son near you cause she thinks you’ll hurt him judging you for your family reputation. Arthur thinks differenly so he’ll try to make amends between you two

Word count: 3.4 k. Too long I’M SORRY

Warnings: none

English not my mother language so pleeeeese tell me if something’s wrong

A/N: Hey! Another chapter for you’all. Thanks for keep reading this. The next part will be updated soon and yeah, hope you like it! If you want to be tagged just tell me and i’ll do so :D

Chapter 3: Expectations

It was bitterly cold outside the burrow, and you wondered if winter had come early. Your icy hands clenched your sides, refusing to go back inside even if your knuckles burned and your bare feet began to crack from the hardness of the grass on your soles.

You walked on the grass feeling the dew wetting your fingertips. On the other side of the garden the gnomes were burying one of Molly's ornaments with what, you guessed, the woman would be very angry when she found out, but no more than she already was. Molly's words were harsh. Even if her intention was not to make you feel bad, she had managed to put a huge weight on your stomach after the fight.

You didn't blame her, it was almost certain that Molly would react that way, however, you hoped that within her there was a bit of empathy for the situation you were experiencing with your family. It wasn’t easy for anyone to go through a war that could have been avoided in one way or another, however, for the Grants it was an even more difficult challenge knowing that the trigger for such a war was grandpa Tim Grant's half brother.

You walked around the house, crossing the barnyard, watching the chickens peck at a rubber boot on a very rusty cauldron. The cornfield grasses moved with the wind at the same rate. From right to left, right to left, right to left and then they changed the rhythm from left to right, left to right, left to right ...

The barn was just behind the thick grass rising into an old stone sty, which had several crooked stories attached to it. Four or five chimneys dotted the roof of the cellar, and most likely the entire building was held up by magic due to its crazy bolt-on construction. You took a look back at the main entrance of the house where you could hear the voices of Bill's brothers next to Molly's, deciding to get away from the Weasleys before starting a new fight.

You crossed the cornfield finding a pond full of frogs that you dodged with a little scream and a ballerina jump. Then you came across an old broom shed that was half stowed and a pervasive smell. You headed there, thinking of helping out with the cleaning and wasting some time in the process until William came home from the ministry in the early afternoon.

The brooms were on top of each other in a corner of the shed where the garden gnomes used them to play with each other. One of the gnomes had gotten a match with which he had managed to light a couple of strands of the broom of one of the twins -You knew it because each of the brooms had the initials of Molly's children painted on the base. That one had a huge G in the center - which soon expanded into the rest of the broom's dark fibers. You immediately turned it off earning yourself a tiny kick from the gnome.

The smoke from the fire mixed with dust, and the foul smell of expired wax made your eyes water . You wondered vaguely when was the last time that place had been cleaned up, however, the density of the raised dust and the rottenness of the broom wax on the floor told you about the nonexistence maintenance of the shed. The orchard was contained within a paddock, so you assumed there would be no problem cleaning it up later.

You collected each thing by hand placing them where you thought they should go. You finished cleaning the shed earlier than expected, securing the door when exiting to prevent the gnomes from entering and destroying everything again.

You continued your way in a straight line until you reached the barn where a thick layer of dust hid the doorknob. You opened the warehouse with your wand finding the worst scenario ever imagined. The walls were hidden in ghastly cobwebs, the shelves were clothed in huge mountains of dust, and Muggle stuff were strewn everywhere. Mr. Weasley's old Ford Anglia was on the left side of the barn,  storing certain flying objects that you couldn't recognize from the cloud of dust that rose and entered to your eyes.

Well, that seemed like an even bigger challenge than the shed on the other side of the garden. You started by washing the car using your wand to launch several aguamentis causing a waterfall of mud falling from the roof to the fender. Then the car doors flapped open like a pair of wings, letting out the flying objects. You raised your wand by closing the barn door blockig them the exit and initiating a chase that lasted a couple of hours to catch each object, throw it inside the Ford Anglia and finish polishing the hood before the flying, spoiled car got upset.

You forgot the last time you helped your household servants clean a simple fireplace ornament. Years before, when you were little and your brothers liked to spend time together, you helped the butler to clean some objects in the house because it was more fun when you formed competitions between you, Anthon and Margaret to know which of you cleaned the house ¿faster . You had fun and old Alfred got less tired. But that was a long time ago and in the present you didn’t remember what was the proper order of cleaning.

You were lugging box after box for several hours getting a terrible allergy in the process. The last box was made of recyclable paper where you put Mr. Weasley's old newspapers and Molly's worn recipes. You carried them to the fourth shelf from the right, previously cleaned, raising it with both hands. A speck of dust flew across the room, stopping on your nose causing you to sneeze so hard you fell backwards with the box on your face. The papers flew around the corners causing a disaster worse than the initial one.

“Shit”

You stayed lying on the floor taking the box off your face staring at the ceiling. Undoubtedly that would be a difficult life without anyone to help you doing the things more than yourself, however you were willing to try ‘cause you didn’t want to return home where things were simple but with a high cost. You weren't sure you wanted to trade your freedom for a few extra comforts. You let out a sigh ready to stand up when a singular sheet of a recent newspaper flew towards you, stopping on your chest. You caught a glimpse of a fairly familiar photograph in the ink, so you took the paper and read:

"Dark Mark sparks panic." Muggle family murdered.  Death Eaters numbers grow”  Your hands trembled over the paper, caressing each of the words, reading them over and over again. The weight on your stomach grew and grew, as if it were suddenly going to explode. A huge picture of uncle Tom stood in the middle, with that toothless grin and throbbing nostrils “Merlin’s beard”

Your fingers tingled, and you couldn't help but run your touch over your uncle's face trying to think how he got to that point. Grandpa Tim never talked so much about his half brother and you never had the courage to ask him even if the curiosity was eating your insides. There were few times where Tom Riddle's presence was in the family conversations and if that happened, then your father changed the topic from one second to another. It was annoying living in the shadows, but it was even more to be tied to a cause that no one sympathized with, not even his own brother. But Tim Grant was reserved, perhaps too reserved. Maybe that was the reason why he allowed the actions of his little brother to escalate to those levels and allowed too that his only son had choose the wrong side. However, you didn’t understand - or support - Voldemort's ambitions, neither did your grandpa and that cost you to be rejected by the rest of your family.

Your eyes watered and you didn't know if it was because of guilt or if the damn dirt had entered your eyelids. You looked at the ceiling in the haze. You searched your mind and realized that the situation affected you too much. You weren't welcome with the Weasleys, nor with the Grants. You felt desolate, as if the barn walls were closing in on you.

Molly's reaction was valid, you repeated yourself as many times as you could, because anyone who had lost a large part of it’s family to a member of another's would have done the same thing or something so much worse. You shook your head, once again feeling the rejection you were used to.

The barn door opened suddenly, letting in a gust of wind hitting your body directly on the ground. Your skin prickled from the cold causing the newcomer to laugh.

You looked up to find yourself face to face with the distorted figure of Arthur Weasley who was holding a couple of drinks along with a weird smile that made you laugh. The man sat on the floor next to you leaving the glass next to your face.

"I'm sorry I scared you. it’s freezing cold out there and in my defense, nobody comes to this place”

“It’s okay, I wasn't expecting visitors”

"Fine, then" Arthur took a sip of his drink licking his chapped lips, but still showing you that smile so much like Bill's. You folded the newspaper on your lap, nervous. "So ... what are you doing lying in my barn?"

"I ... I was trying to clean this place up”

"Is that so? ‘cuz It seemed like you were about to take a nap."

“Yeah, i had a little mishap here”

"I see, do you want to get up?"

"Yes, thank you." Arthur held out his hand, slowly pulling you up to leave you sitting in front of him. He offered you the drink and you clinked glasses before drinking. It was hot chocolate, you guessed, made by Molly. Your stomach churned.

Mr. Weasley glanced around the barn, surprised to see more than half perfectly arranged

“This place hasn't been so clean since Bill was born”

“Sorry?

"No, no, it's okay," he mentioned, waving to play it off, "Molly had been asking me for a long time to do it, so I think you just made my job easier."

"It's nothing, Mr. Weasley

"Did you see something you liked?"

"Uh, yeah," you answered wiping your lips. "Ignoring the fact that your car almost killed me, I noticed that you have a lot of muggle stuff."

“Ah, yes. They are fascinating, don't you think?”

"Certainly, but I also realized that most of them are useless, why do you still have them here?"

"I like to collect them," he replied, taking another sip of his drink. You mimicked his action “to be honest, I don't even have a clue how these things works, but I suppose I'll find out in time. Muggle devices are not as advanced as ours, much less functional, however, I find them entertaining and special somehow, did you know that they use a subway to transport themselves underground? And they must leave coins in a machine so that they give them a little ticket. A ticket! The first time I used one I was deadly excited!

You smiled, imagining how it would to see Mr. Weasley that happy

"I could help you understand how they work." You winced when Arthur looked at you with wide eyes. "My ... my grandfather lived with Muggles for a while and knows a lot about this artifacts. Several times he spoke of his usefulness to my brothers and me”

“Fantastic!” He replied cheerfully. You smiled “It's wonderful (Y/N), thank you”

“No problem”

Then a silence settled between you, being cut off only by the babble of the gnomes outside the barn kicking the timbers trying to get inside. Arthur cleared his throat as he ran his little blue eyes over each of the walls of his newly renovated barn. He smiled again placing one of his hands on your shoulder

"I found out what happened with Molly in the morning," he mentioned. You nodded “My children told me what you said to each other and ...”

"I'm sorry I spoke badly to your wife, Mr. Weasley" you interrupted, sipping your glass all at once, leaving it on the floor. "I know after this I'll have to talk to William and find another place to stay."

“She is not like that. She rarely has such behavior with the people and I can only think that my Molly has a lot of mixed feelings. The war has us all nervous and the fact that the memories of the past have arisen again ... they make her have reactions that are not very usual in Molly.”

"I'm not blaming her. I think she's right”

“Why?”

"What I did to my family ... running away, betray them..." You started playing with your fingers on your lap, embarrassed. "It's not something a trustworthy person would do."

“What are you talking about?”

“For the Grants, it’s very important to support the family in their endeavors without stopping to think if that could be harmful to the others. With uncle Tom becoming the most dangerous dark wizard of all times ... people would think that his relatives would follow his steps and they did “Mr. Weasley listened attentively, ignoring the screams of his wife announcing that the food was ready “At least most of them. Now all of us are tied to the He-who-must-not-be-named, whether we want it or not. It ruined our lives and I couldn't stay in that place forever

"Why aren't you on his side?"

"Because I can't see my brothers make a wrong decision" You crumpled the newspaper with your hands looking at how the pic of Lord Voldemort turned into a streaked stain "I have my own convictions, even if you don’t believe so”

"I don't believe anything of you, (Y/N)" Arthur's voice turned stoic as he stared at you harshly. "Neither the good nor the bad. I am a believer that you should judge someone by what demonstrates, not by what it’s said about them. Right now you aren’t showing me anything but that there is something in your family that you don’t like and that the dirt in my barn is intolerable to you”

You smiled

"We're all here waiting to see what are you capable of. Good or bad, you get to decide who (Y/N) Grant is from now on. Starting over. Forget that the Grants' actions make you worthy of the consequences”

Warmth attacked your chest. It was comforting to feel for the first time the acceptance of someone who wasn't doing it out of mere compassion or that it was Bill. That Arthur gave you the benefit of the doubt encouraged you to continue as before: trying, trying, trying.

"I think his wife doesn't think the same."

Arthur Weasley patted your shoulder.

"I'll talk to her, she'll understand. Meanwhile let's go home, it's time for lunch”

"Did Bill come back?"

"Yes, my son and I came back from the ministry a while ago.He wanted to find you, but I asked him to let me do it. You know, because sometimes it's good to have the daughters-in-law on your side”

Your cheeks heated up and then the rest of your face turned completely red. Arthur studied your reaction, smiling as he realized you were just a kid looking for approval. He patted your shoulder again, inviting you to leave the rest of the mess and accompany him to the burrow.

"These aren’t a good times to trust the Daily Prophet," Arthur mentioned, noticing the crumpled newspaper in your hands. You skipped the pond and skirted the cornfield until you reached the garden entrance where Bill's brothers and Bill himself had set up a long table near Molly's apple tree where they planned to spend the afternoon. One of the twins raised his wand putting the cuterly across the table, one set for each of the family members. You wondered if there would be a place for you at the table “Honestly, these are not good times to trust anything or anyone, so if you accept my advice, don't worry too much about reading the newspapers, they will leave you more questions than answers, Hey, you will break that!

Arthur scolded his twins when they fiddled with forks in a battle to find out which of them would wash the dishes after eating. Arthur ran towards them while Bill approached you greeting you with a kiss on the cheek. He frowned, watching you closely and then removed his coat, draping it over your shoulders.

"What the hell were you doing outside without a sweater?" It's freezing!”

"You worry way too much," you told him, pressing the faux fur against your shivering body. The truth was that, after the exchange of words with Bill's mother, you didn’t have the time to get a sweater before leaving and of course your wounded pride wouldn’t let you get dressed again before going to hide in the barn. Bill clicked his tongue rubbing your arms. "I'm fine, I just lost track of the time cleaning your father's barn and I didn't feel the cold until now”

"You're bad at lying, did you know that?"

"You should stop asking so many questions." You smiled at the grimace on the older Weasley's face. "Nothing happened."

"That's not what the twins told me," he suddenly mentioned. You felt the tension in Bill's body when Molly passed by him giving you a dangerous look, however you decided to ignore it for the good of both of you “ What my mom said ...”

"It’s okay, it doesn't matter I discussed it with your father and we worked it out”

“Are you sure?” You nodded “I hope so. Not because she’s my mother I will let her offend you in any way”

Your smile widened. You couldn't possibly love that man more than you already did. You approached his body, throwing your arms around Bill's neck, having to stand on your tiptoes to reach only to kiss his chin. He lowered his head, managing to bring his lips together.

“Help your brothers set the table, I'll go take a bath”

"Don't you prefer i help you instead?" You laughed

"I can do it by myself, thanks”

"Hmm ... you sure?”

"William ...”

"Okay, okay, okay," he urged you leaving a couple of kisses on the corner of your lips. "Don't be gone too long. i’ll miss you, love."

“I will not. Wait for me just here, yeah?”

You went upstairs to the room you shared with Bill and jumped into the shower enjoying the warmth of the water above your head. You leaned against the tiles thinking that your first day in the burrow had turned out very bad, but better than you had thought. Even if Molly didn't believe your words, you would do your best to fullfil the expectations of the others members of the Order. You would be loyal to them, to the Aurors, and you would fight whoever you had to to prove that your actions were worth more than the rumors surrounding the Grants did.

You were going to prove how wrong they were with you and, incidentally, you would forge a reputation of your own, one of which you would proud of

Tag:

@purple-vodka-99​

#bill weasley #bill weasley imagine #bill weasley x reader #domhnall gleeson #domhnall gleeson imagine #harry potter imagine #harry potter cast #harry potter x reader #domhnall gleeson x reader

[icerosecrystal]

Jasonette - A Second Chance Pt. 1

Next

This one-shot contains major character death as well as blood and violence. BTW, to clear up their ages at the beginning of the story.

Alfred: IMMORTAL, MY CHILDREN

Bruce: 44

Dick: 29

Jason: 24

Marinette: 23

Tim: 21

Damian: 14

(Marinette’s POV)

Ladybug had failed all of Paris. She had gone into today’s battle, thinking that she and her partner Chat Noir would work together to defeat Hawkmoth. But, right when she had asked Chat Noir to take Hawkmoth’s miraculous, he froze. He then did the worst thing she could imagine he laughed. Chat then walked up to Hawkmoth while Hawkomth chuckled, “Little Bug, even your partner doesn’t support you anymore. Just give up.”

Ladybug froze, her mind racing. Her partner had betrayed her. He had decided that the cause they had been fighting for the last decade was no longer worth the fight. (I was going to make you’ll do the math, but then I saw I already told you Marinette’s age above, lmao.) She screamed in frustration and then shouted, “ Never!”

Ladybug or Marinette was a great fighter, especially after having been in the superhero gig for so long. But, Chat Noir was also pretty good, and he was allied with both Mayura and Hawkmoth. It was safe to say that the odds weren’t looking well for Marinette. She was growing tired, and Tikki didn’t have much energy left within her.

That’s when it happened, Marinette made a mistake. The next thing she knew, Hawkmoth had her pinned to the ground and had pulled off her miraculous, consequently revealing her identity. Hawkmoth handed over her miraculous to Chat Noir, who put it on. Chat, then turned into a deep purple, and a voice asked him, “What do you wish for, oh young one?”

Chat replied, “I wish for the rebirth of my mom, Emilie Agreste.” Marinette’s heart stopped. Her ex-partner was Adrien Agreste. And if he’s assisting Hawkmoth, that must mean that Hawkmoth is Gabriel Agreste, her idol. Then Natalie Sancoeur must be Mayura. Marinette came to those conclusions in a matter of seconds. But, after a minute, she started feeling sluggish.  She felt her heartbeat slow down. She was so tired. She just wanted to sleep forever. She didn’t feel so good at this point. Through her blurry vision, she saw a woman that looked like Adrien’s Mother appear. As Emilie returned to full consciousness, that’s when Marinette started losing consciousness. The last thing that she heard in a whisper was, “ A life for a life, that was the price.” Before she closed her eyes,  succumbing her body and mind to the darkness that lay ahead.

(Talia POV)

Talia Al-Ghul was expecting a lot of things today. What she was not expecting was to find Paris in a mid-battle, for one of the heroes partners to betray them, the villains winning, and then said hero dying. She looked at the body of the girl that everyone was staring at and thought she didn’t deserve to die like this, plus she might be useful to the league. Talia pulled up her mask to cover her face and then blended in with the shadows. No one actually so her until she grabbed the girl and disappeared. Her actions prompted a lot of commotion back at the battle location.

Talia boarded her plane, carrying the body in her arms. She was slightly worried about the potential effects the Lazarus pit could have on her. She had experienced the worse side-effects, courtesy of one Jason Peter Todd-Wayne. Talia could still remember his screams as he clawed his way out of the Lazarus Pit and started to attack all the assassins with the intent to kill anyone and everyone. They had barely managed to restrain him. She hoped that this girl would not receive similar side-effects. But, based on the amount of trauma and betrayal she held within her like Jason, it would be inevitable.

Once Talia arrived at the league with the dead girl, she walked out of the plane got some bandages. Talia then took the girl, or rather Marinette. She found out from a face scan that pulled up all her legal documents as well as her background information, to her father, Ra’s. Once she arrived before her father, she bowed her head in respect for him.

“Ahhh, daughter, you’ve returned. And who is this you’ve acquired.”

Talia answered, “Her name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng, twenty-three-years-old, and an excellent fighter. She lived in Paris, France, and was the main hero. Today was the final battle, and her partner ended up betraying her, getting her killed in the process.” She then handed over all of Marinette’s legal documentation as well as her background info to her father.

Ra’s looked through it and then asked, “How would she be a useful asset to the league?”

Talia responded, “After what happened with Marinette, she would have a thirst for revenge on the people that wronged her. I’m enunciating that we can use that to our advantage. The only problem is that Marinette carries around a lot of trauma, betrayal, and loneliness like Jason Todd. I’m concerned that she might have the same reaction for dipping in the pit.”

Ra’s nodded, considering the idea and agreeing that a person with the thirst for revenge would be a useful addition to the league.

Talia watched Ra’s, hoping to get an idea of what he was thinking. He then beckoned for her to follow him. He leads her to the Lazarus Pit, and Talia now knew that Ra’s supported her decision. She put Marinette down and wrapped her in bandages before dipping her in the pit. What happens next is alarming.

Marinette has the same reaction as Jason. This time though, everyone was ready. Talia quickly took hold of her and started whispering how she got to her destination and how she came back to life. Unlike Jason, though, Marinette doesn’t have as much of a temper, which helps Talia efficiently calm her down faster. Talia then tells Marinette, “Would you like to be an Assasin and fix those who have wronged you?”

Talia wasn’t asking. They would force Marinette if she refused, but they wanted to be her ally rather than as her foe. But what would she choose?

(Marinette’s POV)

A burning sensation was all Marinette felt. But she was supposed to be dead. So, what was she doing alive she got out of the green ooze that she was inside. Marinette frantically looked around while clawing the bandages on her to get rid of the burning sensation. When it didn’t work, she tried to claw her way out of the goop to ease the burning until someone caught her around her middle. The same person took her out of the green goop and started whispering reassurance in her ear. Marinette relaxed until the women asked a question that would change everything, “Would you like to be an Assasin and fix those who have wronged you?”

The logical side of her brain argued that she shouldn’t yield herself to killing others, that it was wrong. The other side of Marinette’s brain felt hazy from dipping into the ooze. It was also hazy because of her grief, pain, betrayal, trauma, and loneliness argued that revenge was the only way to go. She slowly let the murky part of her brain take over until revenge felt like eating ice cream on a hot summer day, great. She nodded her head in agreement with the proposition. The woman smiled and then introduced herself as Talia Al-Ghul, the demon head’s daughter. She spent the rest of the day explaining everything about the league to Marinette. Talia also explained rules that applied specifically to her. By the end of the day, Marinette had an outfit that she would use on missions and during training. Talia then left Marinette to settle in. Marinette looked around the room and sighed, getting ready for experiencing this every day from now on.

(Four months time skip)

It had been four months since Marinette became a member of the league of assassins. And as expected, she was a valuable member of the order. Her need for revenge drove her to work harder on missions.

One morning, Talia awoke Marinette with some news. “You will be going to Gotham to check on my son, who should be 14 now. You will observe how he communicates with his family, and if there any problems arise, you will assist them. Report back to me every day, understand?”

Marinette nodded, “Yes, Mistress.” Talia nodded back and then left to get the plane ready. Marinette wore her usual assassin outfit.

Marinette then went outside and stood before Talia. Shed waited for Talia to give her to okay to board the plane. Once she did, they both got on and reviewed everything they knew about Damian and the Waynes. By the time they arrived in Gotham, Marinette had memorized the information of every single Wayne. She said goodbye to Talia and tracked down Damian, watching him from afar in the shadows.

(Time Skip of a Week)

It had been a week since Marinette started observing Damian. She had to say that he was growing soft. Although, it had been four years since Damian was under league supervision. Everything was going all right on the bat’s patrol until it wasn’t.

The bat family was fighting some thugs at the docks when a thug snuck behind Damian, or rather Robin, and shot him in the stomach. Damian fell to the ground in pain, but still alive. This action provoked Marinette to let out a deep, feral growl. She then grabbed some of her throwing stars and launched them at the thug, effectively killing him in the process. Her actions lead the bat clan to shift their attention to her. They quickly fought off the remaining thugs. They then walked up to a bleeding Damian and Marinette standing in front of him as if to guard him.

Batman then asked, “Who are you, and why are you here?”

Marinette answered, “My name is Dark Angel. I was sent by Mistress Talia to look after Damian for a little bit and see how he’s fitting in.”

Batman then stated, “You killed the man.”

Marinette shrugged, “It comes with the job description. I’m an assassin. You know, a murderer who targets people that would be better off dead?”

Batman sighed, “Nobody is better off dead.”

Marinette shrugged again, so done with this conversation, “Speak for yourself.”

(Jason’s POV, sorry for the abrupt change)

Jason stared at the woman in front of him, who must be his age. He recognized her behavior from somewhere. Jason suddenly realized where he had seen this behavior before he exhibited this demeanor after he came back to life. That meant that she had died, and Talia was using her want for revenge like the league used his.

Jason asked, no stated, “You died.”

Dark Angel stiffened, “Who wants to know?” Yup, her reaction confirmed his suspicions she had died and was then brought back by the Lazarus Pit. Most likely recently by how raw her emotions still were.

Jason walked up slowly to her and remarked, “You died and later brought back to the Lazarus Pit. You probably have a thirst for revenge. I can see a lot of you in me. I can help you.” He tried to be as gentle as possible, which was hard considering his character.

Dark Angel backed away while shaking her head, frantically", No, you know NOTHING ABOUT ME! YOU DON’T KNOW THE BETRAYAL, THE TRAUMA. YOU KNOW NOTHING!!!“ She then ran away, trying to get away from the Bat Clan.

Jason looked over at Bruce, or Batman, with determination clear, in his eyes, "I’m going to go find her.”

Batman nodded, “Take RR and Nightwing with you. I’m going to take Robin back to the Bat cave, where Agent A can patch him up. Once you find her, bring her to the cave so that we can talk with her.”

Jason then nodded and grappled in the direction that Dark Angel went, with Red Robin and Nightwing following in his wake. After running for a little bit, they caught sight of her blending in with the shadows. They decided to split up to cover more ground. Jason ran as fast as he could along the rooftops when he finally caught sight of Dark Angel. She looked to be crying. When she saw him, she jumped off the roof and opened a portal falling through. Jason jumped after her and barely went through in time. He then fell on top of something and groaned. Jason got up and looked around. He realized that he was standing on the Eiffel Tower, was he in Paris?

(Marinette’s POV)

After Jason or Red Hood confronted her and tried to compare herself to him, she ran. She started crying, the emotions too overwhelming to not cry. Marinette cried for a little bit. But, she then caught sight of Red Hood running up to her. She glared at him and asked Kaakki to open a portal. A week after she had managed to become an assassin, she had returned to her room and got the miracle box back in her possession. Talia had no idea, and Marinette had no desire to tell her.

She jumped through the portal, she landed on the Eiffel Tower, and took a deep breath. Behind her, she heard a loud thud and then a groan. She whipped around to find that the idiot Red Hood had followed her through the portal. She saw him get up and look around before a look of realization spread through his face. Marinette saw him look at her. She quickly ran away. She felt him running after her. But she had a mission, and she wasn’t going to stop until she accomplished it. Marinette’s mission the demise of everyone that ever hurt Marinette.

She ran to the Agreste Mansion and went through Adrien’s open window. She saw him sitting at his computer happily looking at something. That asshole, he killed her and was enjoying life himself. “Adrien,” she crooned sweetly, “How are you? Are you having a good time since you got your mother back by killing someone else?”

Adrien looked frightened, “How do you know that?”

She walked up to him, hips swaying. She then pulled out her dagger and slid her finger across the blade, “I know a lot of things about you. Like how you are a selfish, asshole.” She then pulled him closer to her and put the dagger to his neck. “You deserve to die, slowly and painfully, and I will happily help you.”

Before Adrian could scream for anyone, Marinette had already stabbed him in the stomach where his lungs were. She was going to do his heart or behead him, but that let him off too easy. The look of pure horror etched onto his face as he fell on the floor with blood all over him, and the floor had Marinette smirking. She grabbed the cat miraculous off of Adrien’s finger and the ladybug miraculous off of his ears. She knew that Red Hood was behind her, but she couldn’t care less.

Next, Marinette went looking for Gabriel and Natalie. It looked like Emilie was out right now. So, Marinette wouldn’t kill her. She also didn’t take part in killing her. She found Gabriel and Natalie in the house’s atelier. Once they saw her, they prepared to attack her. But she had already whipped out a gun and had shot both of them. She had tried to shoot them approximately below where their heart was. As Marinette got closer to examine them, she realized that she had damn good aim. The bullets had hit them directly in the area she was hoping. Close enough to kill them, but far enough to cause them pain. Their blood was gushing out of them, and Marinette could tell that they would die. She grabbed the butterfly miraculous and the peacock miraculous. She brought Adrien downstairs to lie next to his family. Marinette then went back into the shadows with Red Hood following her right as Emilie arrived.  

Marinette watched as Emilie looked at her dead family and started sobbing. Emilie then took notice of the note next to them.

It read:

THEY TOOK A LIFE, AND NOW I DESERVE TO TAKE THEIR LIFE FROM THEM IN TURN. EMILIE, YOU ARE SPARED BECAUSE YOU TOOK NO PART IN ANYTHING.

~DARK ANGEL

Marinette watched Emilie drop down to her knees and continue wailing while crushing the note in her hand. Marinette watched closely, and she wondered if her parents did the same or if they replaced her like everyone else. She shook the thought off and then went to another house, the house of Liar Rossi.

Marinette her house, and went around it trying to find the liar. She found Lila in her room, practicing her crying. Marinette smirked to herself. She always knew that Lila had to practice crying with how many crocodile tears she let loose every day. She snuck up behind Lila and whispered, “I’ll give you a real reason to cry.”

Lila stopped her tears and turned around, scared out of her mind. “Who are you?”

Marinette snickered, “I’m Dark Angel, or more specifically, you’re worst nightmare.”

Lila started crying again, except this time, her tears weren’t as fake as her life. “PLEASE DON’T HURT ME, I’LL DO ANYTHING! I HAVE A LOT OF INFORMATION ABOUT THIS COUNTRY’S GOVERNMENT!”

Marinette took a knife out and ran it across Lila’s skin, causing a scream out of her, “Here’s the thing, Ms. Rossi. You are extremely selfish. You were willing to sell out your country just like that. Plus, I know you’re lying. It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. So, here’s the deal, the more you lie, the more I torture you.”

Lila spent the next thirty minutes telling lies. When Marinette knew she would be confessing, she gave Lila’s phone to Red Hood so that he could film her confession. Lila then broke, “OKAY OKAY, I AM SO SORRY!!! I DON’T KNOW ANY OF THE CELEBRITIES I CLAIM I DO. I DON’T HAVE TINNITUS EITHER! MARINETTE DUPAIN-CHENG WASN’T BULLYING ME, I BULLIED HER. I THREATENED HER IN THE FIRST PLACE WHEN SHE FOUND OUT MY LIES AND THREATENED TO TAKE AWAY ALL HER FRIENDS. I SUCCEEDED. I WAS ALSO WORKING WITH HAWKMOTH AND HELPED MAKE ADRIEN WHO WAS CHAT NOIR BETRAY LADYBUG!!! NOW PLEASE DON’T KILL ME!!!”

Marinette sneered and said, “Don’t worry, I won’t kill you.” Lila looked at her in hope until she stabbed Lila in the stomach, saying, “Oops, I lied.”

As Lila died, Marinette went to Red Hood and took the phone from his editing the video before sending it to all of Lila’s contacts. When she sent it to Alya, she asked her to post the video on the Lady blog before watching it. She then looked over at Red Hood, who was looking at her in shock. “Don’t worry, pretty boy. I’m not assassinating anyone else. Just torturing them.”

She then went to each of her classmates’ houses and tortured them, depending on how loyal they were to Lila. The person who Marinette tortured the least was Juleka, and the person that she tortured the most was Alya. Once Marinette had finished torturing all of her ex-classmates, she looked over to Red Hood and said, “Okay, I’m ready to go now.”

Red Hood looked at her, confused, “If you were going to go with me either way, why did you run?”

She shrugged, “Your clan had found me out. I wanted people dead. Plus, I was emotional as hell after your whole speech. I also still need to check up on Damian.”

(3rd Person POV)

Red Hood nodded and beckoned for her to open a portal. Marinette did so, and they both dropped through, ending up in the Bat cave. Their sudden appearance surprised all of the current occupants of the cave. Marinette walked up to Damian and asked him, “Are you okay?”

Damian replied, “Tt, ” and then nodded in affirmation.

Before Marinette could say anything else, Batman told her, “I now want you to explain to us who you are, why you’re here. Got it!” He then gave her the Bat glare in case she wouldn’t listen to him.

Marinette nodded and then spoke, “Hi, my assassin name is Dark Angel. My birth name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” A flash of recognition flashed through everyone’s faces. Unbeknownst to Marinette, Hawkmoth had been broadcasting the final battle. Everyone had seen when Hawkmoth had revealed her identity and when she had died. “I was a superhero in Paris. My partner and I were in the final battle when I found out that he had betrayed me and Hawkmoth’s side and was playing me this whole time. The villains won, and they made a wish to revive a dead person. In return, someone else had to die. In this case, it was me. The next thing I know, my whole body feels like it’s burning, and I’m inside of a pit full of green goop. Mistress Talia promised me revenge for the people that had hurt me. I excepted her offer. Since then, I’ve been an assassin for four months now, training every single day for hours. Talia told me to watch your family for a little bit as a mission, which was what I was doing until Damian got shot. You know the rest.”

Red Robin looked at her skeptically, “Where did you and Red Hood go when we tried to find you.”

Marinette looked at Red Hood before carefully answering, “I had some business in Paris, so to speak.”

Nightwing then asked, “And what was this "business” and how the hell did you get to Paris?“

Marinette sighed, rubbing her forehead to ease the throbbing, "You’re not going to let this go, are you?” When she saw everyone shake their head, she answered, “Fine. I was able to get to Paris because I have a miraculous that can open portals.” She showed them the miraculous and then demonstrated it to them. “Once I got to Paris, I committed my revenge. I killed my old partner, Hawkmoth, and Mayura. I also killed a liar who took away everything from me and was also working with Hawkmoth. I also exposed the liar. Finally, I tortured all of my old friends. Yay, I told you everything. Can I go now?”

Everyone looked at her, horrified that she was talking so casually as if she hadn’t just admitted to murderer and torture. Before anyone could say anything, Red Hood shouted, “No!” While taking off his helmet.

Marinette looked at him in irritation, “No? And why fucking not?”

Jason looked over at her, “Because I’m not letting Talia use you anymore.”

Marinette sighed, knowing he was right. Now that she had gotten her revenge, her mind was a lot more clear, and she realized why Talia wanted her to be an assassin in the first place. “Fine, so I’m staying here?” Everyone nodded, still in a daze from everything they just learned.

Marinette shook her head, and Alfred (THE AMAZING GOD THAT HE IS) came into the Bat Cave when Marinette was going to ask someone to lead her upstairs. As Marinette walked upstairs, she hoped that things would work out for her.

(one month time skip)

Marinette had been staying with the Bat Fam or rather Waynes for a month now. She honest to kwami had no idea how they were still alive. The number of times they pulled a weapon on each other was frightening, to be honest. As she got to know each of them, they felt more like her brothers and father, except for one person, Jason damn Todd. She really liked him. He was so gentle with her, and at first, she didn’t understand why. But one day, Jason told her his backstory. To her surprise, it was similar to hers. Once she figured that out, they connected on a whole other level. In fact, they had both sworn that they would try not to kill again. And naturally, the one guy who will probably ever understand her, she had to have a crush on.

Another problem was Talia Al-Ghul. She still hadn’t come to find Marinette. So she was either planning something big. OR SHE WAS DEAD! What, a girl could dream. Marinette then heard a crash downstairs. She ran downstairs and what she saw had her reeling. Talia was in the middle of the living room, playing with her dagger. Once she saw Marinette, she smirked, “Marinette, you’re here. We can go back to the league now.”

Marinette shook her head, “I like living here, and I don’t want to leave.”

The smile that was on Talia’s face disappeared, “Even if you do like it here, you still have to get revenge on the people that wronged you.”

Marinette clicked her tongue, “That’s the thing, I already did revenge on them. I killed the main ones and tortured the rest.”

Talia yelled in defeat, “Well, if you won’t come back, then you’ll just die!” (I know I made Talia super sweet at the start of the story. But let’s face it. She’s a manipulator and a bitch) She then charged Marinette with her dagger in hand. But before she could reach Marinette, she was dead on the floor with multiple bullet holes going through her.

Marinette, with a gun in her hand, sank to her knees sobbing. The Wayne family, having heard the gunshots, hurried to the first floor. There they found a sobbing Marinette and a dead Talia. Jason hurried to Marinette and pulled her into his arms. “Hey, Pixie, what’s wrong?” Marinette shook her head, still sobbing. The rest of the family, seeing that Marinette wasn’t calming down, decided to give some words of support before taking Talia out of the room and cleaning the blood.

Jason picked up Marinette, who was clinging to his leather jacket and took her upstairs to his room. He whispered soothing words in her ear the whole way. Once they arrived, he put her down on the bed and cuddled her, “Marinette, Pixie, Baby, I need you to tell me what’s wrong so I can help you.”

Marinette’s sobbing started dying down. Eventually, it was only an occasional tear with some hiccups and sniffs. “I made a promise that I wouldn’t kill anymore. I broke that promise. Deep down, I really am a murderer.” She started sobbing again.

Jason sighed and crooned to her, “Oh, baby. Do you really think that? I used to murderer people all the time. Does that still make me a murderer? No! It doesn’t make you a murderer either.”

He then started kissing her cheek, her eyelids, her button-nose, her forehead, her head, her jaw. He trailed kisses down her neck while speaking, “I- love-you-so-much. And nothing-is ever-going- to change-that. You- are not- a- murderer.” He then planted a fervent kiss on her lips, which she deepened.

They continued kissing until Marinette broke away to say, “I love you too. You helped me so much when I was broken.”

Jason looked at her in the eyes with a raw intensity, “Then if you love me, never blame yourself for what happened to you.”

She smiled softly, “I promise”, before kissing him once more, with a deep passion.

He pulled away this time and told her, “You have a chance to have a second chance at life. Not many people get that. Use that second chance to fulfill everything you ever wanted. Leave the past behind. Be who you really are. Who you were before everything. But move into the future, with me by your side.”

“A second chance,” Marinette whispered, “A second chance.” Before kissing him once more. She was going to be okay. They had each other, and they were going to get through everything together. Together no matter what, they were going to give themselves a second chance, and they were going to spend every second of it together.

#mlb x dc #maribat #batman #miraculous ladybug #jasonette #jason x marinette #marinette x jason #marinette dupain cheng #jason todd #talia al ghul #league of assassins #batfamily #salt #adrien agreste #gabriel agreste #lila salt #marinette died #revenge #assassin marinette

[needcake]

day 4: cardverse

Arthur/Teo, PG-15 (for some violence), 2k.

@engportevents

Three times the Queen of Spades almost caught the Diamond Bandit, and one time he did (sort of)

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There had been talk – rumors – of a band of bandits roaming the borders between the four kingdoms for months. Their usual targets were trains loaded with gold and silver and the occasional rich traveler going from one kingdom to the other.

Arthur, currently, was the latter.

“Can’t you make the horses go faster?!” he shouted at the conductor who yelled back something he didn’t quite catch over the noise of the fighting in the carriages behind them where the rest of his security detail was being held back instead of doing their job of protecting him!

He shut the small partition between him and the conductor with a violent shove and noticed the inside of the cabin now smelled of lavender.

When he turned back on his seat, the Diamond Bandit was smiling at him, sitting with far too familiarity with his arms spread open over the back of the cushions and his legs crossed.

“My, so you’re the next Queen of Spades?”

Arthur breathed deeply. His powers had not fully developed yet and the masked man he had seen in the wanted posters all over the towns in the Diamonds Kingdom was very much not a rumor.

“What of it?” he asked, trying to buy himself some time while summoning enough energy in his hand to blast the damn smile off the man’s face.

The bandit shrugged, that idiot smile still plastered on his partially covered face.

“Does your future husband know?” he asked and Arthur could feel the small ball of pure energy in his hand growing even smaller and denser. It needed to be as small as the head of a pin before he could cast it and cause any real damage.

“Know what?” He needed more time, just a little more time and concentration.

The bandit leaped onto his lap and pressed a dagger to his throat. His smile turned wicked. “That you’re no longer a virgin,” he whispered in his ear and Arthur’s concentration evaporated, the energy in his hand expanding until it blew up like a firecracker and blinding white smoke filled the cabin.

The pressure of another body over his was gone. Along with his engagement ring.

When the smoke cleared, the conductor announced the bandits had retreated and they were safe now. Arthur nodded and pressed a hand to his chest. How had he known…?

-

Next he saw him was during a ball in the Clubs Kingdom to celebrate the Queen’s birthday. Clubs was a Northern kingdom with a long and proud tradition of horseback fighting and hunting, and Arthur was trying very hard not to look directly at the animals’ heads hung on the walls around the room.

The music changed and his dancing partner – an older gentleman and high-ranking noble, probably belonging to the House of 8 – was shoved out of the way to make room for a younger and more vigorous partner who strode across the ballroom with Arthur in his arms, barely giving him time to keep up.

“Watch it!” he scolded when his feet almost stepped over his.

“Are you going to throw another feeble spark at me?” the man laughed and Arthur only had time to catch a glimpse of pale green eyes and a dark mole beneath the right eye before the entire room went dark and a myriad of gasps and faint exclamations of fright and surprise replaced the music.

“It’s you!” Arthur hissed and felt strong hands hold him tighter against a firm chest.

“Does anyone in this room know, dear Queen?” the bandit asked in a whisper and Arthur felt his entire body shiver with the proximity and the smell of lavender. “Have you told anyone that you used to be just another one of the butcher’s kids until you began manifesting the powers of a Queen?”

Arthur’s anger grew white and hot and powerful, and when he shoved him away and flicked his wrists the entire room exploded in searing light.

He had to blink several times before the room had regained color again, the servants hurrying to light the candles again. Nobles and monarchs were looking at each other with surprise and astonishment. A lady clutched at her neck only to find it bare.

Her scream pierced through the night, followed by many others like hers.

-

The situation had to be dealt with. The Diamond Bandit could not just steal from under their noses and be allowed to go unpunished. After what happened in the ball, the King of Clubs raised the reward on the Bandit’s head and the Queen of Hearts volunteered to bring the man and the rest of his band to justice.

Arthur approached Kiku afterwards and asked to be a part of the task force. Kiku only looked him over once before acquiescing silently.

It took them a month to gather the information that led them to the humble stone house where the bandits were hiding deep in the Diamond countryside near the border with Spades. Kiku and his men went after the larger group while Arthur was left alone to chase their leader into the forest.

He aimed a single arrow at him when he had him in his sight and the Diamond Bandit fell to the forest ground, clutching at his shoulder and crying out in pain.

Arthur approached him slowly and balled up magical energy in his hand. He had trained for this moment. He was now so much better at it than when they first met.

The bandit smiled through the pain, writhing on the ground beneath him. His mask was slipping; the shape of his nose oddly familiar.

“Is your mother still the best seamstress in Spades?” he asked, grinding his teeth as blood flowed down between his fingers. “Does she still bake the most awful scones?”

Arthur stepped on his hand and he screamed. The ball of energy in his palm shrunk to an impossible miniature size, no bigger than an ant, more lethal than any weapon.

“How do you know that?” he hissed.

Green eyes looked up at him. “Have you forgotten about her too?”

Kiku’s horse distracted him as it rode with its master into the space they were in, and when Arthur looked back at him there was only a small pool of blood seeping into the earth in his place. Kiku dismounted and came closer, inspecting the blood.

“He has some sort of magic,” Arthur tried to explain even if he himself didn’t entirely understand. “He disappears.”

“Not disappear,” Kiku corrected him lightly. “He changes. A tanuki.”

He pointed at a small trail of blood, droplets that went further into the forest. Arthur looked at his friend. “Only Diamond high nobility can shape shift.”

Kiku nodded. “You should pay Francis a visit.”

-

It was not hard to convince his husband to send a letter to the King of Diamonds. It was hard, however, to sit at his table and pretend to enjoy the dinner when all he wanted to do was to strangle Francis’ neck between his hands.

“I see you have a new Jack,” Alfred said politely, raising his glass at the man on the other side of the long table and Basch raised his own politely in return. “What happened to the last one?” he asked Francis beside him.

“He died,” Arthur supplied in a dry tone and Alfred looked between him and Francis, noticing Arthur’s glare and Francis’ cold demeanor.

“His ship sank during the war,” Francis said and took a sip of his wine. “What kind of a Jack would he be if he hadn’t been willing to sacrifice himself for King and country?”

Arthur got up. His hands shook beside him with uncontrolled energy that seeped light between his clenched fingers. He stormed out of the dinning hall before he lost control. He left and did not come back, forgoing what he had come all this way for.

“Did you know the guy that died in the war?” Alfred asked him late that night after Arthur had forced them to pack up their things and take their carriage back to their kingdom.

“I did,” he said, staring out at the dark through the carriage window. “He was my best friend.”

-

Arthur woke up with a draft coming into his room through the open windows.

“You’re not too heavily guarded for a Queen,” the Diamond Bandit said, smiling at him under the moonlight.

He sat up on the bed and clutched the sheets to his chest. “What do you want from me?”

The man took a step forward in his direction and froze on the spot. A circle of light with intricate runes glowed beneath his feet.

“I see you’ve gotten better at magic.”

Arthur threw the sheets aside to reveal himself fully clothed and stood in front of him. He could already hear the guards coming closer, alerted by his spell. “Who are you?”

“Do you still remember when we first kissed?” he asked, still smiling despite having been caught. “Behind the house while my mother tried on dresses in your living room?”

The guards came into the room and took him away. Arthur prided himself for not collapsing to the ground until he heard their steps on the far end of the corridor. It was where Alfred found him minutes later, when he held him until he stopped crying, not understanding why since they were safe now. The bad guy had been caught.

-

The rest of the group had been hanged in the early hours in a secluded location as not to distract the people from the main event. Only the Diamond Bandit was to be given a public execution under the eyes of the four monarchs and the people gathered at the central square in the Spades capital.

Arthur had to give out a few golden coins, but he did manage to have the room alone with the Bandit before they took him to the gallows. Teo had his head down, his shirt had been removed along with his mask and his long hair hung over his shoulders, barely concealing the fresh bruises and cuts the guards had given him since he had been brought to their care.

“Did your companions know that you cheat at cards and that you once spilled black tea on your mother’s new dress and blamed your little brother?” he asked and Teo laughed, coughed, spat out blood. Arthur came closer to the bars separating them. “How did you survive?”

“The sea didn’t want me,” he said, his shoulders rising and falling as he spoke. “I floated to the surface with the debris and the enemy ship rescued me.”

“Francis would have paid the ransom.”

Teo laughed again, wet and raspy. “They tried that.” He looked up at him, green eyes almost swollen shut and Arthur felt his chin tremble at the sight of his mangled face. “He said he didn’t negotiate with barbarians.”

He curled his hands around the bars, pressed his face between them. “Then why? Why come back?”

Teo smiled. “You know why.”

-

Arthur sat beside his King and they watched as the Diamond Bandit was brought out. The crowd watched in silence. No cheering, no murmurs.

They put a sack over his head and a noose around his neck.

When the trap door opened, Arthur shut his eyes and flicked his wrist. Something small, smaller than a grain of sand, shot out from his palm.

The crowd gasped, someone screamed. When he looked again, the Bandit had disappeared.

-

Arthur came into his room followed by a chambermaid who was frantically trying to undress him while he gave her no attention and went on talking to his secretary about the seating arrangements for the banquet next week. The other kingdoms’ delegations should be arriving soon and their rooms and accommodations had to be prepared ahead of time, there was no time to waste.

He stopped when he noticed the open window over his desk.

On top of his books, there was a single stalk of lavender.

He smiled.

.

#engport #hws portugal #hws england #aph portugal #aph england #hetalia #engportweekevent #a wild fic appears #this feels a little rushed and i apologize ;_; #i do want to revisit this universe one day and expand on the themes and the worldbuilding #maybe probably #cardverse

[elowenp]

part 1, this on ao3

~

It’s a normal night, until it’s not.

Dick had been purposeful when he had said that Damian could make mistakes. He remembers the way the necessity of perfection had eaten at him when he was younger. He knows that Damian is even more susceptible than he was to that burning self-disgust at anything less than a flawlessness. Upon taking over the mantle of Batman, Dick had decided that Damian needed to know there was at least one adult in his life who wouldn't disown him for delivering anything less than perfection.

He hadn’t thought so much about what would happen when Damian actually did make a mistake.

It happens when Dick is in the middle of congratulating Damian on a particularly impressive move, one with a more gymnastic slant which Dick is sure is based on one of his own trademarks. He’s telling Damian what a good job he’s doing and Damian is puffing up with pride, a smile playing around the edges of his expression. Then Dick catches the glint of the sniper rifle scope.

The ability to dodge bullets is a trademark of members of their family. Damian should feel the whistle of the bullet coming his way, he should jolt back from the air parting in front of him. But Damian's too caught up in his pride to do any of those things quickly enough so within a moment of Dick spotting the rifle scope there’s a bullet in Damian's leg.

Dick is so used to falling that he doesn't remember a time when it didn't feel like flying. The way his stomach drops now though, it doesn't feel like flying. It feels like the kid he said he'd take care of has blood spurting from his leg and it's all Dick's fault.

To his credit Damian is very calm about it. Dick knows he’s been shot before although he doesn’t know if it was a purposeful part of the boys training or not. His blood boils at either prospect. Even as the crowd is still screaming for their heroes to come save them Dick grabs Damian from the blood soaked ground and rushes to the batmobile, putting it on autopilot as he tries to stabilise the patient.

“I’m sorry.” he whispers, “I’m sorry. We’ll be back at home in no time and we’ll get you all fixed up, okay?” Dick blinks away the tears at the sight of Damian bloody and pale in front of him. Impediments to his vision will only make it harder to get Damian stable.

“Okay.” Damian replies, voice remarkably steady.

Now aware that someone he trusts is going to make it all better, Damian promptly passes out.

“Shit.” Dick says, young ears now unable to hear him. “Shit shit shit shit shit. Fuck.”

He swears to his heart's content for the rest of the ride back to the manor and it does very little to make him feel any better.

No, the swirling sea of worry-guilt-anguish in his stomach only begins to abate at the sight of Alfred in the bat cave, perfectly calm and with all the necessary medical supplies ready. They get Damian to a bed and Dick tries to make himself useful as Alfred treats the bullet wound.

He isn’t particularly useful and spends most of his time fretting.

“He’ll be fine, Master dick.” Alfred says once he’s finished up and washing the blood from where it had stained his skin.

“Of course he will.” Dick replies, attempting to sound a little more nonchalant than he actually is. From the look Alfred gives him he doesn’t think he succeeds.

He’s spared the indignity of having to say anything else by the rumble of Tim’s motorbike pulling into the cave. Tim gets off with an urgency Dick isn’t sure he expected and when he takes his domino off there’s genuine worry in the frown between his eyes.

“Is he okay?” he asks, his tone frantic.

“He’ll be fine.” Dick's grateful to find that his voice is far more level now than it was ten minutes ago.

Tim tilts his head to the side, looking at Dick. His expression narrows into something slightly more analytical than concern. “Are you okay?”

Dick tries to say yes. He really does. He's Tim’s big brother, he’s Batman. Of course he can tell his little brother that he’s okay. But after a moment of silence Dick glances towards where Damian lies far too still on their operating table and feels the tears he's been fighting off resurface in his eyes.

Tim nods as if this is confirming something. “Come on.” He says. “Let’s get out of here.”

Dick tries to protest that Damian needs someone to be here when he wakes up but Tim just continues to pull him gently out of the cave.

“He’s going to be out for the next few hours. I can make you hot chocolate in the meantime.”

Dick wants to keep protesting but he’s been left tired and weak by the nights events. He allows himself to slump as his little brother leads him out of the darkness.

~

Dick talks. Significantly more than he had intended to.

He talks about how he can’t balance this awful dichotomy of guardian and commander. He talks about how he’s still not entirely sure how to be Batman, let alone a parent. He talks about how he can’t keep doing this without something breaking.

Probably him. Possibly Damian. Both answers are unacceptable.

“I’ll to fix this” Tim says. The determination in his expression reminds Dick of when he came to his bludhaven apartment all those years ago and demanded Dick reprise his roll as Robin. “I’m going to make a call, we’ll sort this out.” he promises.

Tim’s always been good at that. Tugging on the fraying strings of their family tapestry until it resembles something whole. It’s how he came into the family in the first place and Dick has always been grateful for that.

Tim leaves, already dialing a number into his phone with a look of intense concentration. Dick wants to go check on Damian but Alfreds got that handled so it’s not like he’ll actually help. Sitting idle at the boys bedside will probably just make him feel worse.

So Dick hangs his head and waits for someone to save him.

~

“Give me a lift to the airport?” Tim asks far too sweetly. The tone of voice doesn’t suit him.

“You can drive.” Dick points out, suspicious.

Tim gives him a look, like Dick's being difficult on purpose. “It’ll be a bonding opportunity.” he says, his tone lowering to something closer to his usual cadence. Dick still feels suspicious but there’s a million things he has to do today that are more important than arguing with his only sane brother, so he nods. Tim grins in response and gets up with a lot more energy than he tends to these days.

Dick decides that there’s little use in thinking on it more. He’s in charge of far too many things at the moment, he’ll let Tim control this one.

~

Cass appears in the collection area, suitcase in hand, and Dick feels the weight of the world become significantly lighter.

She's more muscled than she was when she left. Her footsteps are more confident. It makes pride rise in Dick's throat as he realises how brave his little sister is for growing so much all by herself.

She picks up her pace once Tim and Dick are in view, almost breaking into a jog as she approaches. She wraps an arm around each of them and Dick can feel her smile pressing against his cheek.

Dick realises that his own smile is pressing against Cass’s cheek. His chin is somehow resting in Tim’s hair.

He savours the moment and feels more full than he has in a long time.

“Welcome home.” He says into Cass’s neck. He feels her smile even wider in response.

~

That night as Dick is about to go on patrol Cass taps his shoulder.

“I can do it.” she says, pointing at the Batman suit Dick had been about to start putting on.

Dick frowns, pushing away the golden hope bleeding into the edges of his soul. “It won’t fit.” he says.

Cass shrugs. “I won’t wear it. But I can do it.”

Dick feels his frown deepen. Cass is younger than him and she hasn’t been in Gotham for so long. It’s not a good idea for her to take on the mantle. She’s already got far too much weighing her down without adding another impossible burden for her to bear.

Dick looks past Cass for a second to allow his eyes to rest on Tim, busying himself with sorting his own gear out but none too subtly watching the exchange between Dick and Cass. He gives a slight nod. An endorsement. Dick looks back to Cass who is smiling very gently at his indecision.

“Okay.” he says, and the room releases a sigh of relief.

~

Cass has been Batman every night since she got back a week ago and Dick hasn’t felt this light since Bruce died.

She was always the best fighter out of them. Always a little faster, a little more cutting, than any of her brothers. She isn’t as used to the detective aspect of things but she's surrounded by enough people trained in that aspect of the job that it isn’t a problem. Dick wears the Nightwing suit and flies higher than he has in months. Damian tends to work with Cass, Batman needs a Robin after all, but will pop up on Dick's patrols with silent requests for ice cream and a shoulder to lean on.

Cass can be Damian's Batman. Dick can be his guardian. It was always too much to ask of Bruce, for him to be both. For him to be their teacher and their hero and their father. Splitting the load seems to be going far better than anything Bruce used to try.

~

Sometimes Dick will catch Tim smiling at him the same way he does at a problem just solved. He wants to say thank you. Thank you for letting me outrun that awful burden for a little longer. Thank you for saving me. But he supposes that’s just what brothers are for.

Instead he asks Tim if he wants to go train surfing. They haven’t since before Bruce died. Dick was far too busy trying to keep the world from collapsing in on itself and Tim was too busy trying to find a way to stop Dick from crumbling under the pressure of it.

“Yeah.” Tim says, his smile twisting and morphing until it goes from analytical to soft and relieved. “Yeah I’d like that.”

~

"Do you miss him?" Damian asks one day. Dick doesn't need any clarification on who he's talking about.

The two of them are sat on a rooftop, legs swinging over the side. Damian is holding a rum and raisin ice cream Dick had pressed firmly into his hand. Dick decided a while ago that Damian should be offered the opportunity to try all the flavours he missed out on in the earlier part of his childhood and he thinks they're making some pretty good progress.

Dick considers for a moment. It's a complicated question. "Yes," he starts, because of course he does, "But it doesn't hurt like it used to. Not now that I can focus on being myself instead of squeezing myself into the shape of the person I'm mourning. And you?"

"Yes." Damian starts, because of course he does. He pauses for longer than Dick did but that makes sense. Damian's thoughts are complicated enough that Dick can't help but be proud of the kid for being able to untangle even a few of them. "But I know a lot of people who've died. And at least this time I gained what I came searching for regardless of what happened to Father."

It's not a thank you. Dick knows that it's going to take a little more time for Damian to learn how to shape his mouth into those words. But it's a start.

Dick looks at all the life surrounding him and smiles.

#dick grayson #damain wayne #nightwing #batman #writing #dc #tim drake #cassandra cain #cass cain #i have not posted anything in AGES #exams murdered me but i'm back #(until resits) #also i just put this in a word counter and I did not realise how long this was #au where tim doesn't bring bruce back

[alfredosauce50]

What makes me human [Cyberpunk! America x reader] 17

Wordcount: 3, 927 Rating: T for strong language and mature themes Chapter synopsis: Alfred woke up wanting to take things slow, all so he can enjoy the morning with you. You, however, were in a rush to regroup in the wake of a sinister conspiracy. He's too stubborn to hear the truth, so you bribe him to listen with an amorous gesture. When he does find out, he gives you an earful. Allen snaps back and rediscovers his motivation to keep him away from you. Meanwhile, Alfred's clone survived. The only person who knows isn't even meant to be on the planet, and he's helping Alfred 2.0 find his place in the world. Everyone's struggle to free themselves from the tyranny of your father continues. The war rages on. The reader is referred to as she/her.

17 - Rebirth of the old

Alfred was never keen on staying in a motel. But the appeal of it hit him like a tidal wave first thing in the morning. You were here, half-dressed and curled up next to him in a proper bed. To think this was how things used to be—he couldn’t take it. He lost something more valuable than gold! Not giving a shit about anything else? He was living in luxury.

To hell with Arthur and Zao. He couldn’t relate to their long-distance struggles and he didn’t have to. But more importantly, to hell with Allen.

The bed creaked as he leaned to you. Reaching out to your cheek, he patted it continuously. "Hey. Get up. It's past noon, lazy." Alfred kept at it until your peaceful expression scrunched up, indicating the return of your consciousness. He grinned. This marked the beginning of another good day. Snaking two arms around your waist from behind, he pulled you onto his lap as he sat cross-legged. "Up we go. Sleep well?" You lolled your head on his shoulder. "I know I did." He snorted.

You inhaled a deep breath to wake yourself up. Fluttering your eyes open to look at him groggily, he tilted his face down fondly. That, you could never get enough of. It showed in the floaty smile across your face. He chuckled, "What, you're not gonna talk to me? Don't leave me alone with my thoughts here."

He heard a scoff, the sound prompting him to pin your head with his chin. "I thought you would've gotten used to it by now. Your brain works fast." You sighed that out jokingly. Alfred hummed as if to say, touché. "Morning." You murmured raspily. However, your exhaustion was short-lived—did he say it was past noon? You tensed up in his hold and sat forward, twisting your form to him, panic-stricken.

"Dude, why didn't you wake me up earlier?"

You slid off his thighs, much to his displeasure. The quiet morning he wanted was no more. "Oh, God. What time is it?" Planting your feet on the brown carpet, you spun to him briefly for his answer. Alfred merely hung his head. Quietly. He stayed put where he was while you walked off to get dressed. So much for walking on the same wavelength.

"Well? Don't leave me hanging, Astroboy." Glancing at him over your shoulder, your expectant gaze welcomed a dash of frustration as he made no effort to get off the bed.

He looked up with a shake of the head. "I was just kidding, toots." The man then grinned mirthlessly as he slid off the mattress. "It's only nine. Don't fuss."

Breathing out a sharp sigh of relief, you placed your hands on your hips. But nine was barely sufficient for what you promised. Seeing that he never bothered getting dressed, you looked from side to side to find his clothes. It was in a heap on the desk.

"I'm not fussing. I just said we'd be back by morning. Now, work with me." You picked up his shirt, pants, and jacket, then tossed it to him one after the other. "You're making me nervous."

Alfred caught them with ease. "Don't fuss. You're fussing." Why you were so hell-bent on getting out of here was beyond him. Sparing him a brief glance of displeasure, you walked off to the bathroom without another word. His point exactly.

Sleep wasn't something he needed. But judging from where this conversation was going, his energy was about to be sapped away faster than he could deal. He appeared in the doorway while you washed your face. As you scrubbed away furiously, he folded his arms with a brief shake of the head. "You know, no matter what, we still gotta grab something to eat." He began. "So you can slow down."

You patted yourself dry before turning to him. Catching him in a hard stare, the silence became a sure-fire sign of your unwillingness. You never actually planned on eating anything before going back. But now that he mentioned it, it wasn't such a bad idea. "... Yeah, of course." You smiled. "We'll just go to FamilyMart. There's one down the street, and we can pick some stuff up for the gang... Just in case."

Just in case they wanted to chew you out for disappearing in the middle of the night. By they, you really only meant Allen. He was the only one who knew, after all. "They're probably worried, so we should give them an offering to appease them." You chuckled light-heartedly.

Alfred knitted his brows together until creases formed between them. What the hell? This was exactly what he didn't want to hear. Since when did everyone else have such a significant place in day-to-day life? "Worried? Then why did you leave in the first place?" He asked, reaching out to grab your hand. "Just hear me out. Hear me out." He squeezed you hard. His iron vice and low tone were all you needed to predict what he was about to say.

"You said you wanted to be alone with me. How come now that you are you're racing to get back? Slow down a little, won't you?"

For a night, everything could be swept under the rug. But it couldn't stay hidden forever. You forced yourself to look at him anxiously. "We have to get back to the group. We have to stick together." He shook his head with a hand over his mouth. Seeing how unhappy he was about that demand prompted you to add this. "Alfred. Just get to the car. I'll tell you everything. You'll understand, I promise."

He licked his bottom lip, disgruntled. What was there to tell? He took your other hand to hold you in place. "No. Let's not do that." Alfred asserted through a glower. "And it's Al. Al. Either you call me that or some stupid pet name. Whatever you want. Just not Alfred." You narrowed your eyes, confused by the growing temper in his voice. He never had a problem with what you called him, so why now?

"Okay, fine. Al. Will you go to the car, now?"

The man rose his brows. Did you seriously think he could be convinced? "Make me, baby. You can try dragging me out, but I'm fine right here." He took a seat on the toilet and gleamed at you sarcastically. You folded your arms and shot him a look of irritation. A few moments of tense silence passed before he continued. "Last night was nothing, you know that. So why can't we have the morning to ourselves? Just an hour? You can't say no."

You swayed from side to side. It was endlessly frustrating that he was misunderstanding everything so terribly. It was never about not wanting to be here. "Would you stop being so difficult?" You huffed angrily. He shrugged dismissively, then reached out to pull you in against your will. "I'm serious, Al. I'm not playing games with you. Something's wrong. It's about him." Hissing out the last word, you saw something change in his expression within seconds.

Christ on a bike. Alfred stared at you through his eyebrows sternly. But he decided to save the questions for the car. "... Fine." He relented, much to your relief. But something was glinting in his electric blue eyes. Was it mischief or something else?

"But I'm not moving til' you kiss me."

Blood rushed up to your face as you heat up with mortification. Was he serious? He looked serious. "What the fuck, Al. Didn't I just impress on you the importance that you get off your ass?" He remained quiet. His gaze on you was unwavering and expectant. He honestly couldn't mind if you tore him a new one for this. If shit was going to hit the fan again, he needed to set one thing straight.

Seeing that he was deciding to be stubborn, you gave in, but not without a frustrated huff. And so, you kissed him on the lips.

You gave him what he wanted. When your mouth connected to his, the force was enough to move his head back. You'd give him his money's worth—a hard, angry kiss—though he barely paid anything with boldness. But boldness was exactly what you needed. It coaxed you to be somewhat honest with yourself, as you'd be lying if you said you didn't want this too.

Alfred's eyes were as wide as dinner plates during the exchange. He didn't actually think you'd do it. In fact, the pleasant surprise caught him so off guard, he never even got the chance to return it before you pulled away. When you leaned back with a deep inhale, which was hotter than he cared to admit, he gawked at you like you just shot him. "Woah." He spluttered. His chest was whirring so crazy you could probably hear it. "I was only joking."

"No, you weren't." You muttered as a matter-of-factly. He laughed nervously at you, then fell silent. Way to go, Alfred. He thought. The second-hand embarrassment made you light up like a Christmas tree. Fortunately, it was staved off by urgency. "Car. Now." You ordered. The man watched you leave through the door while he was left reeling.

Bewilderment, giddiness, it was all there. He didn't waste any more time to scramble onto his feet and run after you. "Hey, wait! You didn't even let me kiss you back!" Alfred exclaimed, picking up his pace. The metal door slid downwards behind him to a close. "Can we kiss in the car? I'll be good after that, I swear."

"I swear to God, Alfred. Now is not the time!" Your shouts trailed off into the hallway. It was never something you could say out loud, but this—his inability to let things go—was his best attribute. It saved what needed saving.

Himself, you, and what you both were together.

Shooting up with a start, he twisted around a white bed in his bout of grave disorientation. He stopped when a sharp pain shot through his abdomen. "Ah, crap." While he hunched forward to wince, his heart pounded alarmingly hard in his chest. As loud as it was, it couldn't beat the monitor beside him that beeped away. "... Still alive, huh?" He murmured. This had to be the most sterile environment he'd been in for a while.

Perfectly polished metal walls, and not a spec of dirt in sight. There was nothing in the room except everything he was currently using. He ripped off the electrodes on his chest, then the IV drip from his arm. The heart monitor flatlined as abruptly as his movements. While he slid off the mattress, a voice interrupted his silent haven.

"If you wanna stay alive, you'd wanna take it easy."

He whipped his head to the source. "Jesus, Zao." He took a deep inhale before continuing, watching the said man tilt his head up as a greeting. Why the guy even saved him after kicking him around like a football was beyond him. But more importantly—"And would you stop doing that?" He shook his head with disapproval. "You're turning into an omen of death, always showing up when I'm fucked up."

The other unfolded their arms and walked towards him. Slowly, grudgingly. "Invulnerable or not, you're one hard guy to kill. You're just like him." The brunette remarked, causing his companion to narrow their eyes fiercely. Zao scoffed with a growing smile. So he hit the mark. "But you are him. Aren't you?"

"Don't fuck with me, man." He glowered, picking up a vacuum-sealed packet of clothes on a trolley. Alfred tore open the packaging with next to no grace. "You can start by telling me what the hell you want from me. And I'm not planning to be your guinea pig for a sick little experiment." While he spoke furiously, he hopped on one foot to put on a pair of pants. It was endlessly vexing how he seemed to find himself in the same place over and over again.

Somebody was always playing with his genetics, one way or another. This somebody being his oldest nemesis.

"I've had enough of crazy science freaks treating me like some... Extinct animal. This isn't Jurassic Park."

Zao threw his hands up defensively. "Listen, I may be a scientist, but not that kinda scientist. I don't clone people." Alfred threw on a jacket and glared at him. He was beginning to wonder if he was developing some prejudice for biology majors. And this guy, well, they were never particularly chummy in the first place. "I clone plants. Big difference there."

The blonde rose his brows and laughed mirthlessly. That certainly made him feel better. "Right, right, sorry, a farmer. My bad." He muttered sarcastically. "And what does a farmer have to do with my sorry ass? You want something from me, don’t you?"

The answer was in the question. This guy’s story was so disturbing it fazed the unfazed. "What do you have that I’d want? I already have enough shit on my plate." Zao snorted, popping a few gummies he dug up from his pockets. His scarlet eyes darkened. Catching the other in a look so foreboding, they were shocked this was the same person. "Not everybody is out to get you. I wouldn’t have gone through the trouble of saving your life just to fuck it more than how fucked up it already is. You can do that yourself."

Alfred’s eye twitched, but his mouth never opened. This guy did look like the type to have a silver tongue. The assumption only manifested into reality as they continued. And without mercy, at that. "Allen told me about you, you know?" He tensed up. His ears were ringing, almost as if his body knew to reject what he was about to get into. "You’re not from around here. You make enemies with the yakuza, and somehow, you skip half a century and end up here so they can take you on in their prime."

Zao circled him tantalizingly while he stood frozen still. It was like being tied down and scrutinized against his will. He didn’t like it. No, he hated it. But something about his lack of filter was relieving—he was forced to confront his demons in the worst way. "You’re something. Not just anybody makes it to Matsumoto’s kill list. What you did, what happened to you, even gives me the goosebumps."

His anger was too hot for him to think. But he knew better than to lash out. Not after some clarification first. While he clenched his fists until the veins began to pop, he kept his eyes on the ground. "I’ve spent the last twelve hours being well and truly fucked with, so if you don’t tell me what the hell is going on—" Alfred lifted his head for a heated stare burning with conviction. "I may as well lose my temper."

"Of course." The brunette mused, turning his feet towards the door. Once again, he was barely impacted by the threat that loomed over him. All his life, he had much bigger fish to fry.

"If you couldn’t tell, I was about to get to that part."

The Alfred everybody knew was never the first to walk this Godforsaken Earth. His mind was the same, but his body wasn’t. He was the second version of himself, having become a creation of metal parts, silicon, and everything flesh and blood couldn’t handle. What about the Alfred that stood before him? How was he any different? He never asked to be made, and now that he was, Zao thought he deserved just as much of a fighting chance.

"You didn’t have to do this." He muttered raspily with his head down. If it weren't for his ravenous hunger, he would've stayed in that hospital room. But it was too much to handle. And so, they changed locations to a ramen stand smack-bang in a commercial district. Picking up a cup of steaming miso soup, he took a small sip from the rim. "You shoulda’ just left me on the ground to bleed out."

"And let you die in one of the VIP rooms? Dead bodies aren't great for business." The other remarked, fully expecting a glare from him. But it looked like his spunk was gone. He never responded, not even with the least of a glance. Zao had to wonder if he was aggravated from his empty stomach back there. Little did he know, his anger was quelled by something else entirely. "... Want some painkillers?"

Alfred shook his head and covered his eyes with his palms. Everything still hurt like hell, but it balanced out everything on the inside. No matter how much food he consumed, he couldn’t swallow down the bile in his throat. It was only a matter of seconds before the waterworks started. Boy, he'd forgotten how good it felt to cry. "What the fuck..." He laughed dryly. To think you were responsible for this—he couldn't handle it.

The brunette rested his cheek on his hand, which he propped up with an elbow. Darting his discerning red eyes to Alfred's mouth, his brows came together. It was twitching as he forced a smile.

"Do you hate her?" Zao asked.

He swallowed thickly. "No."

"Of course you don't." He continued. The certainty in his tone caused the blonde to look up. There in all its ugly glory was his face blotched with patches of red. Zao was no sentimental person. But seeing him like this could shake anyone to their core. "I was there. She was hesitating because she wanted to give you a chance." Alfred wasn't sure how much he agreed with that statement. But there was one thing he could put his faith in.

"Doesn't change the fact that she did this for you."

Alfred fell quiet for a few moments. "What are you trying to say?"

"What do you think, Einstein?" Zao raised a dish of sake at him, almost on a celebratory note. If he was right about his assumptions, you've never shot a gun before, let alone offed someone with one. There could only be one reason for your eagerness to kill. "She's high-strung about you, dumbass." At first, he had to shake his head at how clueless Alfred was. Once it finally began to click, as evident in the blood rushing up to his face, Zao slapped a hand down on his shoulder with an amused look. High-strung, huh.

"Give it a few days. Once you're not so crippled, we can rock up to Arthur's place. She won't push you away, trust me."

The redness flushing Alfred's cheeks disappeared just like that.

"Are you crazy? They'll fucking kill me!" He whisper-shouted, slamming his fists down on the counter. "Not just the other me, but Allen too. And maybe she'll wanna do the same cuz' everyone else is."

Zao clicked his tongue. "Will they? You're stupider than I thought."

"Have you forgotten how you even came into this world? The man in the sky! Matsumoto. If they're gonna get rid of him, they need all the help they need. They're gonna have to take you in."

Allen had been up since five. He was half-awake and sprawled across the couch, struggling to keep himself conscious. He barely managed any sleep last night. Rolling his tired eyes to the digital clock on the kitchen island, he squinted at the neon figures. 10:26. You said you both would be back by morning, and it was nearly eleven. And eleven was pretty much twelve. Clearly, you were up to something. Something you were too kind to let him know what.

But he was something of an over-thinker himself.

He slid further down the couch until his head was the only thing against the backrest. Currently, he was in the bargaining stage. If you really chose Alfred over him, your best friend, big brother, and everything Alfred wasn't, that didn't mean he couldn't be in your life, right? Yeah! If you both moved out somewhere, he could be the live-in housekeeper. That sounded pretty swell.

The door slammed open. In stormed the subjects of his thoughts.

"Your dad made a clone of me, and you didn't tell me?!" Alfred exclaimed with the utmost terror. His shouting was the perfect splash of cold water to wake him up. So Allen stood up, concerned at the scene that was about to unfold before him. "And you... You shot him. How did that feel like? You said he was dead?" You marched into the living room and spun to him, eyes-wide and heavy-hearted.

Your mouth was wide open, but the words were caught in your throat.

"I..."

Alfred's nostrils flared. This was what you had to tell him? He couldn't comprehend why you put it off. How could you withhold something so important from him? He whipped his head to Allen, who didn't seem all too shocked at what he was witnessing. No way. "You told him, (F/N)? Is he in on this too?" He pointed to the man accusingly, all while keeping his hard stare on you.

"Or is this why you both were gone for so long? Why didn't you tell me?" He sucked in a sharp breath before raising his voice.

"Why didn't you fucking tell me?"

"Because I was in shock!" You snapped fiercely. Alfred froze while Allen's expression darkened. "It was just one day later. I told you in the morning, didn't I? Why are you so angry?" Allen could admit he felt pity for the poor bastard, but he was finally seeing him for what he was. A setback on your life. On his. Alfred didn't deserve half the attention you gave him. He couldn’t let Alfred have his way with you anymore. Even now, a light tremble had seized your body because of his selfishness.

You were forced to relive those memories, and the brutality of it was enough to blur your vision. But you had enough of crying. Crying over Alfred and crying in front of him. So you blinked the tears away before taking off. Alfred reached out to grab your hand, but you slipped away too seamlessly. "(F/N), wait—I'm sorry—" He begged, "—come back!"

Fuck, why did he have to be so goddamn explosive all the time? He’d been so caught up with himself, he never stopped to think how it could impact everyone else. He was never good at listening. Hell, he couldn't do it to save his life. That statement rang particularly true when he felt like he just lost something—broke something. What he had with you. In the end, his inability to let things go didn’t just save it. It ruined it.

Before he could follow you back into the guest room, Allen grabbed him by the collar and throttled him. Alfred stumbled back a few steps out of shock. He’d never seen him this furious. "Just face it, skin-job. You’re a fucking drag on her life." He seethed, shoving him back roughly. "She should’ve walked out on you ages ago. But she’s too good for you."

With one last bitter glare, he added this to rub more salt into the wound. "Once we kill that old fuck, I’m not letting you do what you please. I’ll be haunting you like your demons. One wrong move and you’re dead." Allen growled. "I even wish she never killed your clone. That way, I can kill you twice."

#hetalia fanfiction #hetalia fanfic #hetalia #axis powers hetalia #axis powers ヘタリア #hetalia x reader #x reader #reader insert #america x reader #aph america #hws america #alfred f jones #allen jones #2p america #2p!americaxreader #2p! america #2p!america #2p america x reader #2p! america x reader #cyberpunk #cyberpunk 2077 #sci fi #science fiction #hetalia world series #alfredosauce50 #what makes me human

[peppersonironi]

How I Picture a Batfam Age Reversal

I’m going to write this as a fic (And I want to go on into a young justice world where dick forms the team and his siblings are protective) but here is the outline in bullet points in case anyone is interested. Please note this is VERY first draft.

Ages (At end) & Order:

Damian- 24

Duke- 21

Stephanie- 20

Tim- 21

Cassandra- 19

Jason- 19

Barbara- 15

Dick- 13

Damian is Ten when he is sent to live w/ his father. Bruce is 30.

They don’t really work well together at first. But Selina, Alfred, and Clark somehow get it through Bruce’s thick skull that he has to care for this child.

Damian keeps sneaking out on patrol, against B’s wishes. Eventually, he let’s Damian join and tells him to choose a name (Not what we meant, Bruce!)

Damian wants to go for something like Shadow, or Demon, but Bruce puts his foot down. He says that Damian shouldn’t try to be darkness.

Damian is pouting in the gardens when he finds a wounded robin. It’s wing is broken. He demands that the animal should be taken to a shelter, and carries it in his hand the whole way there.

The bird makes it, and Damian demands to be called Robin. He designs his suit, going slightly more colorful. “I might be called Robin, but I am NOT wearing brown, Pennyworth.”

Bruce introduces him to Superboy (Jon, note: less age dif) and the pair are close friends.

He is Robin for a little over seven years before he begins to fight with Bruce about being allowed to patrol alone, and being his own hero. (basically what happened w/ Dick).

Damian leaves Gotham, opting to claim Bludhaven. Jon joins him. He suggests they call each other Nightwing and Flamebird. Damian thinks it’s a bit childish, but he can’t say no to Jon. They’re costumes are here. (done by @hyperactive-lectiophile! Fantastic job!)

They eventually realize they’re in love w/ each other, all while trying to figure their lives  out. Damian briefly tries to join the police. He hates it. Eventually, he enrolls in BH college for a major in Art and a minor in business.

Later in Gotham, the We Are Robin/Robin War stuff happens. Long story short, Duke is adopted. 

Damian is angry to find out he has a new brother, goes to Gotham to yell at Bruce, but then meets Duke. They bond, and are close siblings. Damian makes his father promise to not adopt any more strays.

Stephanie Brown wants to stop her Father, so she sews up a costume and goes out as Batgirl. Bruce is apprehensive at first, but his family basically yells at him to train the poor girl before she gets hurt.

He does, and after Steph meets Damian, who she absolutely adores (He loves her too. The way she pisses his father off is legendary), Stephanie decides she wants to be Robin. Batgirl was good for dealing with her father, but she wants to belong to this new family, and, w/ Damian’s blessing, she makes a new costume.

Unfortunately, after a while, Stephanie is killed by Black Mask (her death is faked, like in the comics, but the Fam doesn’t know)

Enter Tim Drake. Batman has been going crazy over grief, and not even Nightwing, Catwoman (this is SOOOO batcat, btw) or The Signal can calm him down. Tim steps right up, and demands to be robin.

Damian and Bruce fight over this. Surprisingly, Damian is the one who thinks Tim should be given a chance. He sees how his father has been acting. Damian knows that Tim must be brilliant to figure out their identities, and thinks that should count for something. Duke takes his side, knowing that it takes guts to talk to batman, and be willing to join him. Bruce, meanwhile, is a constant chant of “no more dead robins”. After a while, and lots of arguing, Tim takes his place as Robin. They redesign the suit, and he takes his place as robin.

It’s little while after this that Stephanie comes back. Tim offers Robin back, but Stephanie declines. They talk and grow closer. At one point they talk about Stephanie’s new moniker. She says she doesn’t want to be Batgirl either. She wants something new. Tim suggests Spoiler (Bad pun turned brilliant idea?).

Cassandra Cain arrives on the scene next. She saves the commissioner’s life (like No Man’s Land, minus No Man’s Land), and Stephanie immediately imprints on this tiny assassin child (So do the rest of the family, but Steph claims the fourteen-year old first. She and Bruce fight over custody.). She offers Cass Batgirl. Gotham gained a new vigilante, and Bruce Wayne adopted a new child. (Faster than the comics, I KNOW. But Cass deserves happiness)

Everyone loves their new sister, and everyone spoils her. Duke is the one to take her to a ballet the first time. She immediately begs to be put into lessons.

Somewhere in here Tim’s mom dies and his dad is in a coma. Bruce takes him in.

Eventually, Bruce decides to offer Tim Red Robin, hoping to avoid the strife he had with Damian. (Like in the comics, Bruce was going to give Jason Red Robin)

Tim is unsure of this, and puts off deciding. Then little Jason Peter Todd decides to jack the tires of the batmobile and is immediately taken in.

Everyone is captivated by the tiniest addition to their family, but it's also at this time that Jack Drake finds out about Robin and forces Tim to quit. Tim gives Jason his blessing to become Robin.

Everyone pitches in on helping train the newest Robin. Damian teaches the kid things he learned from the league (non-lethal things, since Damian loves this kid), Duke teaches him escrima fighting, Stephanie (Much to Bruce’s dismay) has a full seminar of the delicacies of glitter bomb making. Tim teaches the kid hacking, when he can get away from his dad. 

Unfortunately, when Jason has been Robin for almost a year, he is killed by the Joker.

The family is torn apart by greif. But this time around, Bruce has a much larger support system. All of them lean on each other.

The only time that Damian ever broke his no-kill rule while living with his father was to kill the Joker. He hunted and murdered the clown, sparing Harley. He had been friends with Quinzel since he was Robin, and knew how the Joker treated her. Harley became the batfam’s honorary aunt after this.

Bruce was too emotionally tired to fight with Damian over his actions, so no one said anything. Eventually, Bruce and Damian did argue. Damian refused to apologize,, though he did promise his father to never kill again. Their relationship was strained for a while, but they worked through it.

Less than a year later, Jack Drake dies, and Tim comes back onto the vigilante scene. He refuses to become Robin, however, choosing to take Bruce up on his offer and become Red Robin. He designs his own suit, and the world seems to slowly become normal. Or some semblance of it.

One night, the circus is in town and the whole family (except Alfred) is home. Duke, Tim, and Steph drag Bruce, Cass, and Damian to go see it.

It is on this night that Dick Grayson’s parents fall to their death. Dick is sent to live in juvi, meanwhile Bruce tries to adopt Dick. He succeeds, and the manor once again has a bright young child running through it’s halls.

Dick figures out the secret identities of his family and instantly demands to be allowed out. He wants to take down Zucko, and won’t settle for every single member hunting for him. Dick wants to take down his parent’s murdered himself. He tries to sneak out multiple times, but is always stopped.

Damian talks to Dick (They are extremely close) and explains the origins of Robin. He says that the mantle was born out of a want to distance himself from the revenge and violence of the league. Dick cries when he learns this and says that his own parents used to call him Robin. He suggests that the mantle is more than a personal need. Robin is Family.

Damian almost immediately demands that Dick be trained and help catch Zucko. Bruce is confused, as before, Damian was strongly against letting a nine-year-old fight crime. Damian explains (after much cajoling. He might be more emotionally open and healthy than when he first arrived in the manor, but the kid is still constipated) what Dick had said, and that Damian understands the kid’s need for direction. “When I first came here, I needed Robin. I might not have known it, but I did. Richard needs Robin now, as well.”

The family took sides on the issue, but eventually Dick (with the aid of his puppy-dog-eyes™) won everyone over. He got his own Robin costume, and they caught Zucko.

Dick refused to stop being Robin, and so Gotham gained a new bird.

Dick was Robin for almost two years when The Red Hood made his appearance in Gotham. No one knew what he wanted, as he didn’t seem to do much beyond killing criminals. They thought he was a vigilante at first, but then he began to take over the criminal underbelly of Gotham, regulating crime. On top of that, Red Hood targeted Robin. Attacking the boy wonder when no one else was around. After the red helmeted rogue let loose a few hints about the league of shadows, Damian interrogated his mother, who explained the identity of The Red Hood, and how she had set him on Gotham.

As soon as the family figured out the newcomer’s identity, and the reason he was alive Damian tracked him down. He knew how to deal with pit rage from his childhood, and brought the lost bird back to the nest.

The family was whole for the first time in years. Jason was still angry and resentful, but he had his family back. Jason was grateful for Damian taking revenge for him, and they were once again close. 

Slowly, Jason let everyone back in, including Bruce. Dick is wary at first of this new older brother, but the little chicken nugget quickly warms up to Jason, and even convinces him to teach him how to shoot a gun (In secret, of course, Dami and Bruce would blow a gasket). Jason couldn’t resist the kid. It was physically impossible.

A year later, Cass decides to pursue dance as her career. She gets a job with the Hong Kong Ballet company. She moves there, and decides to take a new moniker: Black Bat. Her family is so proud of her, but they miss her dearly. Duke visits often, bringing new back to the family.

The absence of Batgirl is filled after a while by Barbara Gordan. She makes her own costume and starts going out. Once again, Stephanie Brown adopts a smol bean (Well, not legally. The commissioner is still alive) and outfits her with a more Gotham-friendly suit and weaponry (I.e. heavy kevlar and leather)

Babs is taken whole-heartedly into the fold, and is made an honorary sister.

#reverse robins #reverse batfam au #batfamily age reversal #Bruce Wayne #alfred pennyworth #damian wayne #duke thomas #stephanie brown #tim drake #cassandra cain #jason todd #dick grayson #barbara gordon #Damian is nightwing #duke is the signal #stephanie is spoiler #tim is red robin #damian is first dick is last #cassandra is black bat #jason is red hood #dick is robin #barbara is batgirl

[ellana-ravenwood]

An AU in which Bruce Wayne raises Damian since birth - Ficlets

I wrote a small post about this not long ago (click here to take a look at it), and it made me wanna write more about this alternate universe...So here we are. It’s not a very original AU, but eh, there’s a reason people wanna write about it because damn <3. This is more like, a collection of little scenes and moments than a real story, but ya know. I just wanted to expand. I hope you will like it : 

PART 2

My master list : @ella-ravenwood-archives​

_________________________________________________

                                                  ******

The Beginning.

Bruce was most certainly not ready to have a child. 

He wasn’t even sure he ever wanted one, given the path he decided to follow. 

But the decision was taken out of his hand the day Talia decided to do what she did. 

Bruce was most certainly not ready to have a child. 

But he would never leave a kid in the hands of the Al’Ghuls. The gods only knew what they would do to him. What they could turn him into !

What if the kid grew up, and came to Gotham to defy his father ? Would Bruce be ready to fight his own child ? 

If he had to, he told himself. 

And maybe that’s what would’ve happened if he never heard of it. If he never knew...

But he knew. He knew that what Talia mentioned to him once, she actually did. 

And there was no way he would ever let that boy be raised by the Al’Ghuls, now that he knew he existed. Wether he was ready to have a child or not. 

Never, never, armed with the knowledge she did go ahead and made that baby, would he not do anything. It wasn’t like him, to leave untied knots. Or to leave someone he knew was in need...

There was no way that boy would have a good childhood, with the Al Ghuls. Particularly with Ras’ around. Not that Bruce was sure the child could have a good life with him...But between the pest and cholera ? 

It if was only Talia. If it was just her love. If she hadn’t told him why she wanted a child with him...Maybe he would’ve left the boy behind. 

But his informant was adamant. The talks going on amongst the League were all the same. 

Ras Al’Ghul’s heir was brought to this world only for one purpose. 

And maybe what Talia felt for Bruce was genuine love. Maybe what he felt for her at the time was too. But she told him the real reason why she chose him, and why she wanted his child. 

“He’ll be a new Alexander.” 

She said...And although Bruce was most definitely not ready to have a kid, he would never let that happen. He would never let his own child grow up in such an environment. 

Maybe if he never knew...Maybe if he never knew things would’ve been completely different. Maybe it’d avoid him a lot of trouble, too. 

But he knew. And he wasn’t about to let that kid...His kid, suffer a childhood he knew was not going to be happy. After all, Talia told him what Ras used to force her to do when she was younger...

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

Sneaking into the Shadow League’s headquarter was ridiculously easy. Which made him suspicious. Maybe they were expecting him ? 

Oh but they couldn’t...They couldn’t know he knew. They couldn’t know he left behind a friend, the only one he made in the league of assassin. A fellow apprentice. A friend who spied on the Al Ghuls unbeknownst to them (or he would be dead since a long time). 

Bruce silently entered what he knew to be the baby’s room, and looked around. He was right, his informant was right. The crib was in the middle of the richly decorated room. Bruce, with light steps, walked towards it. 

And...

And...

It was like being faced with a portrait of himself at that age. Except the boy’s skin was darker, his eyes shaped more like almonds, and Bruce could guess that if he just opened said eyes...they would be olive green like his mother’s. 

And he was right. 

The soft rustling sound Bruce made as he bended over the crib to pick the  little one up woke him. And he opened his eyes wide immediately.  

He did not cry, instead, he looked up at this stranger that was picking him up with curiosity, and Bruce felt his heart...Do something. 

He couldn’t quite describe it, the feeling. His heart skipped multiple beats, while going faster at the same time. And he wanted to smile. 

It was an urge too hard to resist, something he couldn’t control while he learned to control his own emotions, and he smiled at the little one in his arms, taking a gloved fingers to his cheek to caress it lightly, as if it was natural. 

The baby...he...he...

He smiled in return. A cute, unsure and untrained smile, as if it was his-

“That is his first smile.” 

Talia. She was there, at the entrance of the room, casually walking in in as if nothing was happening. 

“Hello, detective.” 

She took Bruce by surprise, and he turned around quickly, taking a fighting stance while holding his son against his chest protectively. His hands naturally held him, one supporting his back, the other his head, even as his legs spread apart, ready to fight. 

Bruce had fought only with lower body before. He trained to be able to do so. He knew he could have a chance against Talia. That he had no chance of taking her down, but could at least escape her. Fight if need be. But he’d rather avoid it...Not in front of their child. 

Wasn’t Bruce here to take the boy away from violence and pain ? He couldn’t fight his own mother in front of him, even if of course, the baby would most likely not remember. 

Maybe he was an unwanted child on Bruce’s end, and one Talia created only for a specific purpose...but he was still a child.

His child. 

“I will not let you raise him, Talia. And if you want to stop me I will have to-”

“I don’t.” 

There was something odd, in Talia’s eyes, that Bruce had a hard time to discern in the dark room, only lit by the moon. 

Was it...Sadness ? Regrets, perhaps ?

“His name is Damian. From the Greek word Damianos, which means “to tame.” He is upposed to be the tamer of the World. At least, that’s what my father wants.”

“I won’t let you-”

“Redundant, detective. Even more so since I told you I will not stop you. I think the fact I let your little friend, the one who told you about Damian’s existence, live, should be proof enough. I let him go, if you’re wondering where he is. I told him to disappear, and if he’s smart enough, he will. I knew since the beginning, he was your friend. Even as he acted like he tried to kill you during your escape. I knew because I know you. I watched you close enough...” 

There was a small silence, during which neither of them moved. Damian, still in his father’s arms, cooed happily as he was trying to grab at the Batman’s armor. 

Finally, Bruce spoke : 

“...Why ?” 

Another silence. Talia did not look at Bruce, but at the tiny being slowly moving in his arms. After what seemed an eternity, punctuated by Damian’s little happy and unaware sounds, she said : 

“Because I do not wish for him to become me. Or my father.” 

“But, that is why you created him ?” 

“That is why I-...When it happened, I imagined you would be around, detective.” 

“You couldn’t seriously think I would stay after knowing what you and your father were up to ? You know me better than that, no ?” 

“I do. I guess it was all wishful thinking.”

Another silence. Heavy. 

“When you left I was angry. And lonely. So...I made him. Our plan was to raise him to become even better than us, and then send him to you. Because if he destroyed you, then he could destroy everything - bitter laugh - I say “our”, but I truly mean my father’s plan. Twisted and nonsensical, I see it now.” 

Bruce felt uneasy, and nostalgic. The boy was getting used to being held by this odd man, and now was sucking at his foot thoughtfully (as thoughtfully as a 3 months old baby can). 

“I did love you, Detective. And I would’ve gladly govern the world with you, and our son. But you leaving, you telling me all those things...It made me realize. I have never truly been loved before. This is why I was so angry when you left. No one, no one loved me before you. My father...I serve a purpose to him. When I was with you, I felt love, and loved. But before...Before I was just another instrument in my father’s grand schemes of things. Has he ever loved my mother ? He said he did. Maybe he did. But he did not keep her with him. And I became what I am today. Now, I am no fool, detective. I unfortunately know I cannot change. But Damian...Damian has a chance, with you.” 

Bruce didn’t know what to say. His heart and throat felt tight, and his hold on the boy became stronger and surer. 

“Please, let me say goodbye ?” 

Of course, Bruce agreed. 

He watched Talia slowly walking to him, and looking at the boy. 

Her boy. 

The boy she knew she had to let go, because she loved him enough to want him to not become her. Or his grandfather. 

Talia never loved anyone before. Except for her “detective”, and for her son...

“One day, my heart. One day, I hope we can meet again. Goodbye, Damian.” 

She told the little one, and the baby looked at her, smiling widely as he recognized the voice of his mother. She laid a kiss on his forehead, took a last glance at him, and left the room without turning back. 

Bruce left the headquarter with his crying son in his arm, sure now, that if it had been that easy to get into it...it was because Talia herself, lowered the security. 

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

Damian Wayne, son of Batman. Occupation : Baby. 

Bruce was right. He was NOT ready to be a father. He never even held a baby, in his short twenty three years of life ! Why would he anyway ?!

Thanks god for a certain man called Alfred Pennyworth. 

The butler, whom Bruce considered a second father know, slowly showed him the ropes and tricks to take care of a baby, trying to involve his young master in everything as much as he could because...What was the point in saving that little boy from a world of pain and violence, if it was to not take care of him ? 

And so there were times Alfred told him to take care of things on his own. Which Bruce wasn’t sure he liked, so far... 

But he was trying. He was really trying. 

The arrival of Damian in his life put so many plans he had in shamble, but Bruce learned how to adapt fast. 

Of course, the news of Bruce Wayne having a “secret son” spread like a wild fire all across Gotham. And he knew there was no hiding such a thing. What was the point of hiding the boy anyway, he couldn’t raise him and keep him shut in the Manor all his life !! 

The public was quick to believe the story he told. Of course, no one had trouble to picture playboy Bruce Wayne who was known to sleep around, having a “secret” son. In fact, many talked about bets going all around the city as to when a scandal of the sort would happen. 

Bruce had been back home for about a year, and in that short year, he made sure to assure his “Brucie Wayne” persona, that he knew would help him keep Batman a secret. 

He most definitely did not expect Damian, but was quick to find a plan. His explanation about him satisfied everyone. A story about how Damian’s mother could not take care of him, and he wanted to take his responsibilities...

Which technically wasn’t a lie. 

The story stayed at the front of every newspapers for a long time, and Bruce decided to play on it and, although he felt a little ashamed, use his son for a publicity stunt, and therefor have even more cover for his Batman activity. 

He was often shown in public, with a baby carrier, or exiting an important meeting early to go see his boy. Which he did. And he couldn’t help but have a feeling that this little boy, his little boy...sort of saved him. 

Bruce felt that without Damian, he would’ve jump heart and soul into this Batman thing. And he did, he promised his parents he would...So of course, he did. But there was always this little piece of reality holding him back. 

His little boy cooing at him, and smiling at him, and laughing and having this second chance at life. Which gave him, too, a second chance at life.

Of course, Bruce could not forget the years of pain he dragged behind, the trauma of losing his parents. But he felt that Damian, and his presence so early on in his life ? Most definitely changed him. 

For the better. 

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

The first dirty diaper. 

“Alfred ? ALFRED ? Alllllfreeeeeeeeeed ?!” 

Bruce screamed, while running around the manor, panicked, holding baby Damian against him. The boy was giggling happily, liking how his father’s running steps made him rock as he held him against his chest, a terrible smell following them around…

Bruce took a break from work today, giving his favorite excuse : “He had to take care of his son.”, but of course, babies being babies...Bruce really thought his boy was focusing on the pictures he was showing him, certain his son was a genius, up until the odor coming from the kid’s diaper informed him that no; Damian was not focusing on the pictures his father was showing him. 

When Bruce entered the kitchen, in which Alfred was preparing dinner, the foul smell told the butler instantly what the problem was. Turning around to face Bruce, he says, with his infamous English phlegm : 

“I think it’s time for you to learn how to change a diaper, Master Bruce. I have done it for the first few weeks, because you had very few sleep, but you cannot escape this anymore. Come on, master Bruce, I will show you.”

Bruce’s face fell, and Alfred gave him a rather sneaky smile. Well. It really was time his master learned how to change a diaper. After all, Bruce did say he would take care of this child so he could have a good life... 

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

The hair incident. 

The first time Bruce tried to put clothes on his son all alone, without the help of Alfred, it ended in a disaster. 

The fearless Batman was most definitely not prepared for how squirmy babies really are. He had been fighting for a good ten minutes with his son’s legs before he started to mutter : 

“I’d rather be fighting every single goons in Gotham right now, ah Damian please just -Damian kicked one of his leg up while the other one went down- no wait -The boy did the same thing, but changing leg this time- just stay still a second -this time, he put both his legs up, trying to grab one of his foot to put it in his mouth - oh my god..” 

As soon as he was able to slide one of the baby’s leg into his pants, and trying to put the other on...Damian would squirm his little legs around and undo everything. Cooing at his father continuously, as if talking to him. Taunting him that he was doing it wrong !

He decided to try another approach, and moved on the side of the kid, holding his legs down and bending above him to try to block the boy’s legs long enough, without hurting him, to...Oh, but he bended forward a little too much and...The kid got a hand on his hair. 

Unhappy of the sudden restraint, Damian let a loud “HA !” out, but before starting to cry got distracted by his father’s head being close and...Right there, in reach. What were those funny wiggly thing on his head ? 

“ALFREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEED !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” 

The butler rushed in, afraid something bad happened to the baby...Only to find his young master Bruce, his body bend in an awkward position as he tried as gently as possible to untie his son’s hands from his hair...not succeeding very much. 

After this, Bruce started to wear his hair shorter, and neatly brushed back, and left behind any stylish haircut he thought would be good for his public persona.

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

Damian Wayne, Son of Batman AND little brother to Robin. Occupation : Baby AND little brother.

Damian was home with Alfred, when Bruce first met Dick. (IMPORTANT AUTHOR’S NOTE : I took an age “canon” diverging from my personal preference so it would fit the story. I usually like the pre-crisis version the best, where Dick is 8 years old when Bruce takes him as his ward, because it calls back to Bruce’s own age when he lost his parents...But for the sake of this story, and to fit closer the “actual” ages of the boys even if it won’t be perfect (then again AU), I’ll go with post-crisis “official” age which is around 12 years old. Not 15 though, like in the New 52, that’s too old...anyway it seems like Rebirth went back to around 9/10 when Bruce takes him in but yeah, ya know...12, so it fits better. But my personal preference is little baby 8 years old Dick coming in. Haha thought it was worthy of mentioning, and also anticipating any age question :), more explanation about ages in my AN at the end of this fic). 

It was about three months in since Bruce brought Damian back with him, it seemed like...A good idea ? To adopt a twelve years old child who just went through the same trauma he did, while being a 23 years old still struggling to know how to be a father. 

But a twelve years old would be easier to handle than a baby, right ? 

Wrong. 

Dick had some hard days, at the beginning, in Wayne Manor. The media had put in his head that he was a publicity stunt, that Bruce didn’t really care, and he would suddenly lash out at times, the pain too grand. 

Bruce understood more than anyone else. 

He too, lashed out at Alfred a lot when he was younger. It is normal, when you’re so young and already felt so much pain... 

Oddly enough, it’s Damian, that ended up calming Dick. 

The baby, now about six months old, was starting to crawl all around, and took a grand interest in that newcomer. 

Dick would try to isolate himself somewhere at times, playing his game boy in a corner of the main living room...Only for a little six months old to laboriously crawl to him and try to climb on him. 

Thanks to Damian’s presence, Dick opened up surprisingly fast. Bruce suspected the boy’s personality was already quite cheery, but he also clearly had a little dark side to him...However, only because the media were spreading lies about Bruce. And his reasons to take the boy in. 

As Dick saw how Bruce took care of his baby son, he slowly opened up and trusted that the man truly wanted to give him a home. 

Of course, Bruce would never replace his parents...But he still could be his new dad. The two weren’t inclusive. Dick would never forget his beloved parents, but was lucky to still have people who loved him around. 

And that baby ? He was clearly very much set on bonding with him anyway. Wherever Dick seemed to go, the little cooing noises Damian did and the sound of him crawling on the floor would follow. 

And it warmed Dick’s heart. He’d let the baby fall asleep in his arms, or come and sit next to him, watching what he was doing with great curiosity. 

Damian even took the bad habit of crying, just so that Dick would come and take care of him (he also did that to his father and Alfred, to be fair). And it worked every time. As soon as Damian would make a sound, Dick would be here. 

The rare times Bruce scolded Dick for something bad he did, Damian would become mad and scream at his father. In fact, his very first words, right after his first birthday, was “no dada”, as he scolded his father for telling Dick he needed to focus more in school. 

The little twelve months old would hug his older brother tight against his heart, and tell his father off. 

“No dada no !” 

Sometimes, it would make Bruce laugh. Sometimes, it would infuriate him...How dare, his authority, undermined by a one year old ! Then again, he never really minded. All he ever wanted, was for his sons to be happy. 

And to be fair, ever since Dick truly decided to settle for this new life, he rarely made mistakes worthy of scolding. Dick was a really sweet boy. And Bruce  didn’t believe in being angry at his children anyway, he understood very fast that this was doing the opposite of what he wished it’d do. 

It didn’t take long enough to Bruce to realize that giving love to his children meant receiving it back. Being angry with them without explaining anything meant frustration on all side. So of course, he wouldn’t let them do bad things. But Bruce found that they’d actually rarely act out, when he was trying to be understanding and make them see what they did wrong...

Bonding with Damian, and becoming real brothers. Becoming very close, is what gave Dick a new hope. Of course, Bruce’s unconditional love and care did too, but the first thing that made him open up, the first thing that made him want to have a new family...It was this little baby, who decided himself that he was his big brother now. 

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

The Solid Food incident. 

Damian was starting to eat solid food. 

Well. Solid food. More like mushed food, but still a step forward from the formula milk and baby bottle. 

But right now, Damian was having a fit. 

He absolutely refused to eat his mushed pees and chicken that Alfred made in the “baby cook”. And it was getting late. Bruce was about to leave for the Batcave, and it was getting close to Damian’s bed time. 

But the boy wasn’t having it. Any of the techniques Bruce used failed, including the infamous “the airplane is coming”. 

“I don’t think he likes it, B.” 

Dick said, smiling a little too widely as he looked at Bruce struggling with his boy. Which gave a sudden idea to the man. His last idea, really. 

What monkey sees, monkey does, right ? 

“Look Damian, look here. Daddy loooooves the food, see.” 

And he gulped down the spoon of mushed food. And oh god, it was probably the most disgusting thing Bruce ever ate in his life. What was this ? Why would anyone expect someone to eat this monstrosity ?! Was this really baby food ? 

The face Bruce made didn’t fool Dick, nor did it Damian. The little toddler gave a look to his father that clearly meant, “see ?!”, and Dick bursted out laughing and almost choked on his own dinner. 

That night, Bruce relented and just gave Damian his favorite food : apple sauce. As much as he wanted. Telling both his boys to “not tell Alfred about this”. 

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

The day Superman changed his opinion on Batman... But he didn’t know it was Batman. 

At the time, Clark still had a rather poor opinion of Bruce Wayne, whom he didn’t know yet was Batman. 

And it was totally not because he shortly dated Lois Lane ! Nope, not at all ! He just couldn’t stand Bruce’s guts and smug face.

But he had to admit his actions were praiseworthy. In fact, today, he came from Metropolis to this godforsaken city that Gotham was, for an interview about a recent charity Bruce started. A charity that did some good all across the USA, and was worthy of reporting in the Daily Planet. 

The journalist was ready to act fake and smile a lot, while really wanting to punch the billionaire in the face. He really didn't like how this Bruce Wayne acted always so sure of himself and...grr...If only he knew he was Superman ! He wouldn’t act the same, for sure. 

So it’s with a huge surprise, that he came into the man’s office, and surprised him as he was playing with his young son. 

Right there, on the floor, he saw THE Bruce Wayne, a grown ass man, acting absolutely silly to make his baby laugh. 

The little boy was giggling loudly as his father was making funny faces at him, and Bruce wasn’t noticing the newcomers at all, as he kept going, too enthralled in the moment, too focused on playing with his boy. After all, he had a rather busy week and barely any time to spend quality time with his children, lately, so this was the perfect occasion for him...

If only he didn’t forget about Clark Kent’s interview. 

“I’m so sorry Mr. Wayne, I thought you weren’t busy !”

Bruce jumps a little, out of surprise, and turns around, his face livid as he realizes what just happened. He stands up straight quickly, and turns toward Clark and his secretary. 

But the little boy on the floor whines a little and make grabby hands at him, giving him the most adorable puppy eyes Clark ever saw. The man relent, and picks his son up, turning to Clark and the secretary again. 

She is visibly very embarrassed, but “Mr. Wayne” just smiles charmingly at her (why was this guy so cool ?!) and says : 

“No worries Charlotte. Mistakes happen. You can go back to your office. And apologies, Mr. Kent, I did not know you were already here. Clearly.” 

In a few seconds, Bruce had turned around an embarrassing situation for him and was acting all smug and arrogant again. But this time, Clark felt that there were much more to Bruce Wayne that the public image he was showing. 

Flashforward to a few years later, Clark finally discovers Batman is Bruce Wayne, and he is utterly SHOOK. 

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

The Family Portrait debacle.

One day, about a year after bringing Damian back, Bruce decided to have a family portrait made. Of both his sons.

He bought very fancy and cute clothes for his boys, and tried as best as he could to make Dick and Damian presentable.

Dick’s hair were unruly and there was always a little cow lick that refused to go in rank with the other hair, but it was still fine.

Damian was really unhappy to have his first haircut ever, and it had been a nightmare to try and get him into his fancy clothes.

It wasn't helping, that Dick was clearly agreeing, and talking about how itchy the clothes were. But Bruce seemed excited about this, and so he did it.

But Damian ? Oh the little boy still didn’t understand this sort of things, and as everyone already could figure out, he seemed very independent and hated to do things he didn’t wanna do.

And so, even for the Batman himself, getting his one year old son to stay still for a family picture was no easy task. Dick almost dropped his little brother many times, and they decided to sit the boys on the floor instead of a high armchair like their original ideas.

Damian wouldn’t stop squirming, and the picture ended up being a rather hilarious image on which it was very obvious Dick was struggling to keep his brother in place, and Damian was half-crying half-mad.

Later in the day however, both in cute little pajamas, the two boys fell asleep together as Dick, as he took the habit of doing, read his little brother a bed time stories and fell asleep while doing so.

Those two pictures, the “ugly” yet very funny one, and the absolutely cutest one, have a prized place on the “Wayne family” picture wall.

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

The day Dick joined the Teen Titans. 

Bruce encouraged him to do so, if he truly wanted to. 

Dick was sixteen now, and Bruce could see he was looking for more meaning, for more than just being his shadow. 

Bruce could see the boy he came to see as his own son, as much as he saw Damian as his, needed to find more sense to it all. Needed to help more than just Gotham and its people, at least for now. 

Joining and creating his own team ? With friends that had similar backgrounds to him, that felt out of place too ? Figuring things out on his own for a while ? The Batman was convinced it could only do him good. 

Now many would’ve called him a bad father for letting his 16 years old son go off on his own...But many did not understand what Dick went through. Bruce did. And it would be highly hypocritical to not let Dick go for a while, when Bruce himself left Gotham around the age of 17 to go travel the world ? To train, and find meaning in it all ? 

Plus, who said he wouldn’t keep an eye on his boy ? As if he was gonna let his son completely on his own. Of course, Dick didn’t need to know Bruce was totally spying on him, but...Well, Bruce couldn’t completely let go. 

So yes. Bruce was behind Dick as his teen of a son had a harsh decision to make. Because it wasn't just about finding himself...There was also Damian. 

Could he leave his baby brother behind ? Would the little boy understand ? 

Would Dick be strong enough to go away from his family, even if he knew he needed it and it wasn’t permanent ? 

Bruce knew Dick needed to go. Needed time to find himself, understand who he truly was, and move on.  But Bruce also knew that he was held back by the love he had for his brother, adopted father, and adopted grandfather...

He also knew that it became vital for his boy, as he saw him more and more get lost in thoughts. Just like it was vital for him, as a seventeen years old boy, to leave Gotham to train. 

And so he sat with Dick, and talked about it, keeping Damian away for a little while so that cute little toddler wouldn’t change Dick’s decision. 

They wrote a pros and cons list, and the pros outweighs the cons by a little. Bruce tells his son that he has to take care of himself first, especially in regards of his mental health...

It was just for a little while anyway, and he could come back if he felt too homesick, right ? The Wayne fortune came in handy, for that. There was also the possibility of video conferences. 

And so Dick joined the Teen Titans, with a heavy heart, but knowing it was for the best at that time for him. 

Damian seemed quite sad at first, since he was so used to have his brother around at all time ! But as every kid, he adapted rather fast and although he asked often about “Dick”, a video conference with him was enough, as the little boy knew his brother would never abandon him and surely come back. 

(---> In many stories but not in all of them (canon man...What a mess), Dick and Bruce do not see eye to eye as to which methods they should use while out there in the street, Dick thinking Bruce is much too violent etc etc...It’s sort of unclear wether Dick left or Bruce “fired” him really, but they have a pretty bad fall out and Dick leaves, leaving a Bruce that finds himself in a very dark lonely place, up until Jason comes in his life...but in this version, raising a baby and finding the light earlier in his life, I think Bruce wouldn’t be as violent, and share Dick’s views as to how they should proceed as Batman and Robin. Of course, they still beat villains’ asses. That their schtick, HOWEVER, they don’t beat them near to death ? They incapacitate them in many ways. I think if Baby Damian had been in Bruce’s life since the beginning, his Batman would’ve been much different...I mean, it’s Dick’s departure that made him change his method slightly and be less violent ? That made him question himself and reconsider ? So if he already had a child in his life before that ? One that came from his union with a certain Talia Al’Ghul ? If the all point is to save him from violence and such ? Then I think Bruce’s Batman would be different...If any of this makes sense ? Just explaining this scene for those who know the comics and are like : “wtf Ella that’s not how it went ?!” haha, AU).

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

The boy who stole the Batmobile’s tyres. 

Jason was barely even twelve, when Bruce brought him back with him to the bat cave. He was a frail and wary little boy, and Bruce could only imagine what he went through...

No one just dares to steal from the Batman’s himself without a reason. And in Jason’s case, that reason was clearly survival.

He had a few scratches on his face, and bruises on his arms. Bruce didn’t want to re-open whatever trauma he went through, or ask too many questions that would make the boy uncomfortable...So he simply offered help. 

A warm meal, and a place to sleep for the night. Little did he know at the time, that the boy would stay much longer than the night...

And oddly enough, the boy instantly accepted. Because someone being nice to him while he caught him stealing from him must be nice right ? Also, he heard of the Batman. He knew the good he did. 

And so it all started. A simple night and a warm meal turned into official adoption papers, and the rest is history...

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

The more the merrier. 

Bruce wasn't sure how Damian would take the fact that Jason was staying for good. After all, he was so close from Dick...Was Jason going to be able to find his place in his new family ? 

When Bruce introduced Jason officially to Damian, the boy didn’t really react, just thinking he wouldn’t say. They played together, but Bruce wasn’t sure it stuck in his little four years old that Jason was here to stay. 

So he officially stated it. Jason was adopted now, for good and...his worst fear happened. Damian took a good look at Jay, up and down, then turned around and ran away. 

The poor little boy (Jason) looked absolutely crushed. He really was excited to finally have a home, his time at the Manor was the best he ever had ! And he really liked little Damian, but if he didn’t like him in return and didn’t want him in the family ? It was painful. 

But then a few minutes later Damian came back, holding his two favorite toys ever, and walked straight to Jason, in a determined way, gave him the toys and said : 

“Fo’ you. Zayson.” 

And Jason Todd, barely twelve years old, almost cried as this little boy who was facing him did that small act of kindness. Did something that no one ever really did for him before. 

Jason Todd had a new bother. And so did Damian. 

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

A new brother. 

Damian and Jason bonded even further once the official adoption papers went through. This made Bruce realize how strong his little boy was because... Damian clearly missed having an older brother.

He wasn’t quite acting with Jason how he acted with Dick, however. With Dick, Damian would shadow him all around, and just sit in his lap, looking at what he did. 

Sometimes Dick needed to be on his own, and Damian would just wait for him, not seeking him too much, understanding ? Dick and Damian had quite a lot of years of difference. 

When Dick was 12, Damian was a baby. 

Jason and Damian still had quite a bit of difference, but now, Damian was four. He could play, and talk, and invent new games. 

That boy was very imaginative. 

And Jason ? His dream had always been to have a little brother, so he played along with everything. Where Dick enjoyed being a mature older brother who would console Damian and be there when he needed...Jason was an active older brother, who loved to play and have fun. 

His childhood was clearly stunted by drama that happened in his early life, and with Damian, it was like he could live some of the years he lost again. 

Not that he was acting childish, oh no, on the contrary. But he would just play along, something that Dick rarely did. Dick had other game and interest, Jason was very happy to play pretend. 

Dick was the comforting, reassuring older brother. 

Jason was the fun one that you could always count on and that had the best game ideas. 

Maybe the fact Jason and Damian were a little closer in age played for a lot ? Probably. Or maybe Jason, who always dreamt of a brother, would just do anything to be liked by Damian. 

Not that he had to try hard. Damian adored both his older brothers equally. For different reasons. Yet the love was there all the same. 

More often than not, Damian would escape his bed and room, to go sneak into Jason’s bed at night, and wait for his brother to come home from patrol. 

Both Jason and Bruce let him, of course, it was very cute. And Jason felt oddly safe, there, with his little brother curled up beside him ? 

It was like little Damian, his precious little brother, meant home. 

Bruce did too, for sure. Jason never had a dad, and he was so happy to have one that was as cool as Bruce ! But his little brother represented something he never thought he could have. 

In which world would Jason Todd, little orphan living in the streets, ever have such a great little brother ? Or a chance to have a family ? 

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

The good years. 

Dick would often come by, while still being with the Titans. It was his eighteen birthday soon, and he wanted to show everyone his new costume...After all, he couldn’t be Robin anymore ! 

Jason got along really well with his older brother, and found a place in this world he never thought he would. 

Bruce...Well his children eased the pain in his heart. The pain his parents’ death left behind, and that he thought would never go away. Was it bad, that every year it hurt a little less ? But seeing his children grow...

Damian was almost six now, and growing into such an intelligent little boy. Bruce couldn’t even imagine, what he would’ve gone through, if he had stayed with the Al’Ghuls. 

What kind of little six years old he would be, if it happened that way...

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

Where did Jason go ?

Yes. Jason and Damian were very close. Jason instantly discovered his big brother instincts, and Damian just liked being around him. Because Jay ? He was so funny ! And always willing to play with him !! Even if know he was a big person, fifteen years old, an old man !! 

And so one morning, when Damian woke up and as usual, ran from his room to Jason’s to wake him up by jumping on him...The boy found an empty room, and a bed still made.

Did Jason not come home tonight ? Odd. The first thought that crossed Damian’s mind was to then go find his dad, who would surely know where Jason was ! 

“Daddy ! Daddy !!” 

Bruce wasn’t in bed either, which was odd but also reassuring ? It meant they probably were  both downstairs, having breakfast. 

But when Damian went downstairs, going down the stairs as fast as his little legs could without falling, he only found Alfred, sitting behind the kitchen counter, holding his head in his hands. 

“Fafred ?” 

Damian asked. He never could quite pronounce “Alfred” properly, and everyone just went along with “Fafred”, and it stuck...It was cute. 

The butler jumped up in surprise, and looked at the boy sadly. Why were his eyes wet ? 

“You’re hurt Fafred ?” 

Damian asked, clearly very concerned. Oh. Oh sweet little boy. Alfred wasn’t sure he could handle it. Not right now. He picked the little one up, and sat him in front of him, on the counter. 

Five years old little Damian, almost six ! ; Put his palm on Alfred’s forehead, and said : 

“You’re not hot Fafred, what is it ? Did you fall ? Where does it hurt ? Do you want a magic kiss ? Do you need the hospital ?”

It was adorable, how worried the little one was. It was also unbearable, in this instant. How was he supposed to...What was he supposed to...??

“No, Master Damian, I did not fell.” 

“You okay ? What happened ?” 

“Yes, I am okay.”

“You don’t look okay. What happened ?”

“Old people problems, you know.” 

Alfred couldn’t. He couldn’t say anything. 

Damian looked around, and realized the kitchen was empty. No cereal bowls out, nothing. Which was odd. If Bruce and Jason weren’t in their bed, then they should be down here having breakfast ! That’s how it always was !

“Fafred, where is daddy ?” 

Please Master Damian, please do not ask him this question, do not...

“Where is Zayson ?” 

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

WHERE DID JASON GO ??????

Damian didn’t understand where his big brother Jason went, and why his daddy was so sad all the time now. Of course, he was happy his big brother Dick came back and seem to want to stay for good, but him too, seemed sad whenever he looked at him. 

Why ? Why was Dick always on the verge of crying when his eyes fell on his little brother ? Was it...because he reminded him of Jason’s absence ? 

Damian didn’t understand why everyone was sad, but it was starting to make him very sad too. His little five years old self didn’t understand why was this happening ? 

He wanted Jason. 

Jason always knew for sure how to make him laugh. 

But nobody would tell him where Jason went, and Damian had no idea where to look first !! Maybe in the garden ? No, he went there already, and he didn’t find Jason in their tree house. Neither did he find him at their secret spot, or near the sandbox. Jason would never go near the pond, he knew it was dangerous because he always told Damian not to go. 

Maybe he was in school ? Very busy so he didn’t came back yet ? Oh that was an idea ! Damian suddenly felt excited. Yes. That’s it. Jason must be still at school ! And if Damian went to wait for him at the bus stop, then he would surely appear, right ?!

Enthusiastically, Damian ran at the front door. Everyone around was too out of it to even notice what he was doing. The boy put his shoes on (on the right feet this time), and went to take the chair in the corner of the corridor, dragging it as best he could to the front door so he could hop on it and turn the knob. 

He finally managed it, got down from the chair and opened the door to find...A boy about to ring the doorbell ? 

“Hi there ! I’m Tim ! Is your daddy around ?” 

To be continued...  ---> Part 2 :) clickclickclick

__________________________________________________

Here we go. This is part 1/2, I hope you liked it and will want more...Next part will contain more about what changed in Bruce compared to the canon timeline(s) like in more details (sorry I’m writing this very tired and slightly drunk) and more baby Damian, and the arrival, of course, of Tim, Cass, Steph, Duke etc etc...Everyone who has not appeared yet, basically :). I really hope you liked this haha, I’m so nervous...I didn’t talk about the actual BATMAN things yet because this all comes from the view of a kid who is still just 5 so far so ya know :) As usual, feedbacks and reblogs are always much appreciated!

AGES IN THIS TIMELINE (in case you are wondering) : We all know that ages in comics are a mess, especially when it comes to the Batfam. Most canon aging actually make little sense when you try to make up an ACTUAL timeline. So I guess we all have our own preferences and headcanons, which is fine again, given the state of “canon” hints and downright claims (which often contradicts each others btw). I mentioned during the story that I used a post-crisis canon for Dick that puts him around the age of 12 when he’s taken in by Bruce (but again, personal preference = 8). Which means he’s about 12 years older than Damian. He leaves for the Titans age 15/16. So it would make the age difference between him and Jay about 4 years (which is almost canon by a year less), Jay and Damian would then be 8 years apart (same, pretty close but not quite, by two years really :/ then again it depends the canon), Jay and Tim about 3 years apart (pretty much canon), so Damian and Tim about 5 years (again a little less than canon...but then you see what I mean when I say it makes little sense at times ? Hehe). Cass and Damian would be 4 years apart, Duke and Damian 2 years apart (Duke = older), Steph and Damian about 4/3 years like between Tim and Cass I guess, and well Babs is supposedly a little older than Dick so let’s say 13/14 years. Here. Hope that cleared up their age in this ALTERNATE UNIVERSE. No need to tell me what the canon age are are, we actually aren’t really sure because it changes CONSTANTLY (Damian seems to be the only one that grow up haha and only so he could join the TEEN Titans...But then he’s somehow thrown back in his age so he becomes much younger than aged 17 years old Jon ?! Really, canon age makes no sense and in the end don’t really exist hahahahahahahaha), every head canon is open :). Especially in an AU. 

Also : Let’s give back to Caesar what is Caesar’s ! Thanks to @arianatheangelworld, for the many baby!Damian “imagine” asks you send that fueled my inspiration ! ^^. 

#Batfam #Batfamily #Bruce Wayne #Damian Wayne #Richard Grayson #Tim Drake #Jason Todd #batkids #Alfred Pennyworth #Talia Al Ghul #Barbara Gordon #Batman #Nightwing #Robin #Red Hood #DC #DC fic #Damian Wayne AU #DC AU #Alternate Universe #AU #Batman imagine #Robin imagine #Red Hood imagine #Nightwing imagine #Red Robin #DC fanfiction #Bruce Wayne fanfiction #Damian Wayne fanfiction #Richard Grayson fanfiction

[sparkleofpizza]

The archer - Tim Drake x reader 2/?

The archer - Tim Drake x reader 2/?

Requested: no

Warnings: bit of angst 

Taglist: @isthataladybag

Summary: Y/n Queen will be living in the Wayne Manor for a while, and Dick Grayson decided to be the Cupid between her and his little brother Tim Drake.

Word count: 2.671

Part 1 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6  - Part 7

After the sleeping incident, Tim couldn't look at you without blushing madly. You only smiled sweetly at him, not really trying anything to make him more flustered. You figured if he had the same interest in you as you had in him, eventually he would come to you and you both could find out what to do about that. 

Obviously, you had to talk to someone about that, and that lead to a big wave of teasing coming from Connor Hawke, your best friend . You wished you could talk about that to your sister Emiko, but unfortunately that wasn't possible at the moment. You were still adjusting to the fact that you had a sister, and right at the moment where you wished to speak to her about something important to you, you simply couldn't reach out to her. 

You were sitting at the Batcomputer watching Jason do some workout routine. You had went down there once you found out they had a treadmill, and decided to take on the opportunity to run a bit. Just to get the blood pumping.

"So, when was the last time you practiced something?" Jason asked, pulling you out of your thoughts 

You looked up at him, watching as he had finished up his routine. You smirked, pulling your hair up in a ponytail, walking towards him. 

"Before I got here." You replied 

"Oh, you must be rusty then. It's been a couple of weeks." He laughed "Are you sure you're up for sparing?"

"Are you sure you're up for sparing?"

He laughed at you, motioning with his hand "Bring it up."

You lunged at him, deflecting some of his punches and trowing some of your own. You caught on his hand as he want to punch you in the face, twisting his arm around to his back. He let go, making you stumble a little before you got back on your feet, elbowing him on the ribs, and successfully kicking him on the knees making him loose his balance as you went around his back and got him on the ground with a painful thud. 

You smirked down at him, offering a hand.

"Looks like you're the one who is a little rusty." You teased him 

"I was going easy on you." He grumbled under his breath

"How did you do that?" Damian questioned, standing beside you, looking at his brother on the floor and then back at you, narrowed eyes 

This was one of the first times that he was talking to you without that air of disgust he always have. You smiled, pushing some hair strands from your face. 

"My brother taught me that." 

"Yeah, but Todd is more than twice your size." He remarked, not truly believing in what he had witnessed before his eyes "Fight me!"

"Ok." You nodded, getting in fight stance once more 

Jason chuckled lowly, getting out of your way and joining Dick and Tim who had stopped to watch you and Damian fight. The two later, who had not seen you and Jason fight, were looking concerned about your well being. Damian knew how to be ruthless during fighting, he had been trained by the League of Assassins after all. 

The little boy lunged at you with all his force, only growing frustrated as you dodged all of his advances and managed to punch him in the ribs. It was easy to understand a bit of his moves, he was raised at the League of Assassins, you had your fair share of encounters with them to now that, and also had spent five months being trained by them after some ridiculous stunt that Malcom Merlyn had pulled.

He screamed in frustration when you held both of his arms on his back, him on his knees. 

"I demand you tell me how you know all of this."

Damian would never admit it, but you were too good of a fighter and he didn't want to give you the credit for it. He was supposed to know all the cool and different tricks he learned at the league. 

His brothers were staring at you in a awe as Jason only laughed at scene in front of him. Tim thought his heart was going to come out of his mouth, it was beating just way too fast. If he didn't think you were way too incredible for him before, now he was a 100% sure of it. 

"Your mother taught me that." Was all you said, before pulling the boy up and leaving to grab a bottle of water 

At that all four of them had their mouthes hung open. Talia had taught you that? How was it possible that you, of all people, had been trained by that woman? That only made them realize they didn't know much about you as you seem to know a lot about them. That certainly wasn't good, they were supposed to be a family of detectives, how couldn't they know who was the girl that was staying at their house? 

"You mean you were trained by the demon's mother?" Jason exclaimed "Roy never told me that."

"That's because we do not talk about that. She tried to kill me once or twice, and I also spent some time at the League." You explained, turning to look at them as you leaned against a table "That's not big deal, really."

"Uh, yes it is!" Tim exclaimed, waving his hands around "You turned on the tables of her wanting to kill to being trained by her. If this isn't amazing, I don't really know what it is."

You smiled at him, it felt good to be complimented by him. Thank God you checks were already red from the physical effort or else everyone would have seen you blush. 

"Well, when your brother is the Green Arrow, his girlfriend is the Black Canary and you're surrounded by bad guys trying to kill you and your family, you kind of have to find a way to defend yourself."

Tim's eyes went wide. Was he crushing Oliver Queen's little sister? Oh, this was much worse than he had previously thought. He thought you were Roy's sister, which was already bad enough, but being Oliver's sister? He's going to end up with way to many arrows' wounds if they ever find out about him having feelings for you. 

He failed to notice as everyone left the room, leaving the two of you alone. They had all been rushed out by Dick who wanted to make sure you guys would end up together by the time you left. He wouldn't let it go until you were a couple.

"So..." You broke the silence, taking a few steps towards him "We haven't really talked much since that day I helped you out with that case. How is it going?"

His eyes went wide, he didn't think you'd notice he had been kind of avoiding you lately. 

"It's good to go. We're going to bust them tomorrow, that's when the sale is going to take place." 

You nodded, standing right in front of him. You were only a few inches from him, if he lifted his hand he could brush it against your skin - he really wanted to do that. He wanted to feel your warmth and your body close to his just like that day when you slept in each others embrace. 

"Maybe I could join you guys on the field." You said, looking up at him thought your eyelashes "I have some experience on that area already."

"Yeah?" He breathlessly asked, leaning down a bit, just to take a better look at you "But that's too dangerous, you could get hurt."

"So could you." Your chests were almost touching "I guess we would have to have each others backs, then."

"I suppose we would." He pushed some loose hair away from your face, keeping his hands there "But still, I can't picture someone so wonderful as you at a weapon sale."

"I could say the same for you." You pressed your hands on his chest, patting it slightly, feeling some of its muscles "Normally big bad mobster buyers have a girl in his arms."

"And you would be my girl?"He questioned, his hand on your face going down to your jaw as his other hand pulled at your waist, pressing your bodies together 

"Oh, yes. You can bet I'll be your girl." You replied, gripping his biceps 

He leaned down more, your lips was just about to brush, you could feel your heart beating faster and faster. Then there was footsteps approaching making you pull apart. 

"Father is asking for you, Drake. You have a meeting at Wayne Enterprises." Damian announced, eyeing you two very suspiciously, considering how red your faces were

"Yeah, I am coming." Tim rubbed the back of his neck

He looked at you sheepishly before leaving with his little brother, leaving you alone at the batcave, frustrated.

So much for a kiss.

Later that week, they were all getting ready for the weapon sale. You were sitting on a chair, looking rather disappointed when Bruce had told you he had promised your brother to keep your safe, and letting you go to a mission full of weapon wasn't really keeping you safe. You tried to argument that you knew how to take care of yourself, but Dick had told you it was hard to change Bruce's mind once it was already set up.

All there was left for you to do was sit with Alfred and watch the cameras. Hoping that everything would turn out to be ok, you didn't want any of them to get hurt, being in there would make you feel a bit more calmer. At least you would be able to intervene if it was necessary, you could help out. 

"They're going to be ok, miss y/n. That includes master Tim."

You looked at Alfred with pure shock. Sure it wasn't that visible that you had a crush on Tim. 

"I saw the both of you asleep at his bed a couple of days ago." He explained "I am glad he found a girl like you."

You smiled happily at him. Getting Alfred's approval was important to you, even if you still didn't know what was going on between the two of you after having almost shared a kiss yesterday and saying stuff about you being his girl. But, you were always inching towards each other, and right now all you wanted to do was be by his side on the field. 

You heard them talking over the coms, wishing they'd all be alright by the end of this. God, if they showed up with any bullet wounds, you'd be pissed. 

"We're about to get in." Bruce said over the coms "Red Hood was already able to get the information we needed to get all these men in jail."

"I'm cutting the power right now." Alfred informed, clicking some things on the bat computer and shutting down all energy from the building

Right now all you could hear was grunting and gunshots as the fight started. You bit your lip nervously, you were already used to this kind of stuff, you watched your brother do it every time and most times you stayed behind because being a vigilante isn't one of your top priorities, but you have no idea how the batfamily works. You've never actually seen them in action before, so obviously you were a nervous wreck waiting for them to get back.

"Perhaps I should prepare you a cup of camomile tea while you monitor them to me." Alfred offered, already standing up and not waiting for your reply

Honestly, this man is way too good to everyone in this house. 

Your eyes stayed glued on the screens, looking trough all of the surveillance cameras to make sure there was nothing out of the ordinary happening there. But that's when an alert popped up on the screen and a lot made sense to you in that moment, this wasn't just any kind of weapon sale. 

"Uh guys, you need to get out of there." You said, typing away on the keyboard trying to get more information - grateful for whatever tech info Felicity ever taught you "There's a bomb in the building!"

"What? Can you find where's located?" Tim breathlessly asked 

"It's under it, but I can't disarm it from here! Someone must do it remotely. I'm sending you the infos."

Why would someone plant a bomb at a weapon sale? That didn't make any sense. 

"Here's your tea, miss... What just happened?" Alfred rushed to your side upon looking at the bomb's instructions 

"There is a bomb in the building!"

"I'm already on it!" Damian exclaimed 

You took a big gulp of the tea, wishing that the camomile would instantly calm you down. That was too much for your nerves, Damian was just a kid, what if it exploded on him? This mission was testing your anxiety levels a lot more than you expected it to. 

A painfully half an hour later, you heard all of their bikes and the batmobile pulling up at the cave. You and Alfred had already prepared all of the necessary stuff in case they were hurt, which of course they were.

All five of them came limping towards the medical bay where Alfred ushered them to start patching them up. You looked up from the medical gloves you were placing on your hands to see Tim stand beside you, a hand on his shoulder and a small smile on his lips.

"It was nice working with you over the coms. You did a good job."

"Thank you, I normally help Felicity the best I can when I'm not out on the field." You smiled back at him, pulling his hand away from his shoulder to take a better look at the injury "Sit down, please, you're too tall for me and this is gonna hurt."

He chuckled at your choice of words, but then proceeded to whimper in pain as he sat down on the medical bed behind him. You shook your head, helping him pull out the top half of his suit to have better access at the wound. You inspected it closely, standing between his legs, before pulling the bullet out of his shoulder, it didn't go too deep, so it was easier to get it out. 

You cleaned all of the blood with alcohol to make sure it wouldn't infect and then proceeded to stitch him up. 

"You're full of surprises, little Queen." Tim broke the silence, looking at your adorably concentrated face "A very skilled fighter, good at patching people up, good with techs. Is there anything else you'd like to share?"

You bit your lower lip, placing some gauze over the stitches and rubbing it slightly. You looked up at him, a smirk adorning your face.

"And what's the fun in that? I think you're gonna have to find out all of my secrets, Mr. Drake."

He chuckled, placing a hand at your hips to keep you from moving "Oh, you can bet I'm gonna find it all out."

He leaned in a bit, but you placed a finger on his lips. He frowned, pouting slightly against your index finger.

"We can finish flirting later, pretty bird. Right now you need to rest and I have to help Alfred patch up the rest of your brothers."

"But I may need assistance while resting."

Your finger traced the outline of his lips, eyes never failing to leave his as you slowly took a step away from him.

"If you go up to your room right now, take a shower and actually lay in bed to rest, after I'm done here, I'll visit you to make sure you have the assistance you need."

Tim nodded eagerly, standing up too fast and wincing from pain one more time. 

"I can do that." He smiled, kissing your check 

#tim drake x reader #tim drake x you #Tim Drake x Y/n #tim drake imagine #tim drake headcanon #red robin x reader #red robin x you #red robin x y/n #red robin imagine #jason todd x reader #dick grayson x reader #damian wayne x reader #Tim Drake #batboys #batboys imagine #BatFam #batboys headcanons #robin x reader #red hood x reader #nightwing x reader

[shewhowillnotbenamed1]

Beach House

An escape from the city for just one weekend.

The thought alone sent an eruption of butterflies bursting into Raven's stomach and a series of tingles down her spine.

It sounded like a dream.

The drive up the coast had been idyllic. Though, there was one thing Damian failed to mention until they made it past the hedge-lined walkway to the entrance of the mansion-size beach house. Their 'impromptu' visit fell on the annual Wayne family weekend. And it would also mark the first time they met Raven. He hadn't prefaced this trip with a warning, but any mixed feelings quickly melted away into amazement.

There was nothing that could have prepared her for the Wayne family weekend in the Hamptons.

Boats and brunches. Lobster bakes, crab cakes and country clubs - it was another world.

It was hardly Raven's usual scene, but it was his family's. So for the next few days, it would be hers. Even though Damian hadn't warned her, she wasn't worried. Raven knew he had a reason for springing this on her. Besides, if she had him by her side, she could handle one trip. Maybe even enjoy it, too.

And with the view from the top of the lighthouse on Montauk Point with Damian's heavenly arms surrounding her or skinny-dipping with him on a darkened corner of Cooper Beach, she was enjoying herself - a lot.

But, one of her favorite parts of being at the beach house surrounded by Damian's family was the new ways she got to see him flustered. Whether it was rolling his eyes at Tim's caffeine intake and Dick's immature eating habits. Or even elbowing Jason for the bad puns, then swiftly cutting off his father when he insisted on camaraderie.

She even heard him arguing that Cass had to be present for the entirety of the five courses and dessert, if he did. And of course, he spent a good deal of time slapping away any unsolicited hands (Steph) that tried to pinch and prod his nonexistent baby fat.

Off to the side, watching push-up and handstand contests followed by Tim and Damian's stock talk with their father, Raven fought off smiles all night.

Damian seemed to be in a perpetual state of annoyance with his family and there were several times she found herself stifling laughter. This was another side of him she hadn't gotten to know yet - his sisters and brothers teasing him, treating him like the baby in the family and him refusing it at every turn. Raven liked to watch him like this, interacting with them. Even though this atmosphere was completely new to her, she felt at home. Because it was still him - it was exactly Damian.

But around her, he wasn't.

It was concerning when they arrived and Damian hadn't argued against Selina's offhanded mention of separate rooms. In fact, he encouraged it. And every time Raven turned the corner, he was shutting the door or closing drawers. Not only were they not spending their nights tangled up together, but Damian had morphed into a pod person when she needed him the most.

Raven couldn't believe her biggest worry when meeting Damian's family would turn out to be Damian.

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

He was pulling away from her.

Damian regretted bringing her here and introducing her to his family, so he was pulling away. No wonder he agreed to separate rooms, he had been skeptical from the start.

And by extension, his family wasn't sure about her. Or maybe it was the reverse. After all, Raven had spent far too much time reading on the beach, under an umbrella and a thick cover-up, or drinking tea on the back porch, or at the island in the kitchen conversing with Alfred.

She had a difficult enough time fitting in with people who weren't her boyfriend's family, let alone people who were so comfortable and at ease with each other they knew all of each other's ticks to a fault. Even their dog seemed to be privy to all the inside jokes and the gags.

The joking around and teasing, Raven had never had that. A family.

A real one.

It terrified her, but she was willing to try because Damian was the most important person in the world to her.

"Maybe Raven would like to join us for our tradition of game night...?" Bruce suggested at the breakfast table, before taking another long sip from his coffee cup. Unsurprisingly, Raven, Bruce, Dick, and Damian were the first ones up that morning. Raven, Bruce, and Dick by choice. Damian, of course, picked up the habit from her over time.

"Oh..." Raven glanced at Damian who peered sideways at her, a half quirk on his lips as he fiddled with his fork. He was still acting strangely. "I'm fond of games, Mr. Wayne... Chess, checkers, scrabble, backgammon, cards," She offered.

"Great, it's tonight at eight." Dick finished, before taking in a huge spoonful of Lucky Charms. "With your repertoire you can replace Damian on my team..." He coughed out something that sounded along the lines of losing streak. "We should talk strategy, Raven," he said out of the side of his mouth, while Damian shot him a glare so threatening, it could have boiled his milk.

"It'll be great to have you on the team." Bruce folded his newspaper neatly, about to take his leave. He stood, his stern stare softened for a split second. "And please I may be getting up there, but, you really should call me Bruce."

Raven felt her cheeks warm and mentally cursed herself for being overly formal. After a breath, she excused herself from breakfast as politely as she could. "Breakfast was lovely." Alfred nodded, as she rose up to place her teacup and saucer on the metal tray. "Thank you, Alfred."

As soon as she was out of sight, she headed in the direction of her room. Raven stood against the wall, resting her head against the cool plaster and stared up at the high beam ceilings.

All the names of Damian's family members and their friends, who was dating whom, and who was still speaking to whom swirled around in her head in an endless loop. Social engagements weren't terribly difficult and normally she could handle them. But with Damian acting strangely, suddenly it felt that much harder. There were times during the weekend that it felt as though Alfred was her only ally in a sea of chaos.

Not far behind, Damian had haphazardly refolded his napkin and excused himself from the breakfast table. Raven let out a startled yelp as he touched her arm. She hadn't heard him come in. "Damian - what are you doing in here?" He drew her back into his body's embrace - enveloping her with heat, the way he did to ensure she felt safe. From his parted lips to the curl of his fingertips, he vowed to wield her with wonderful wickedness. Raven felt her whole being blush, clearly there was much more than a casual caress on his mind.

"It's important." His mouth inched closer to her own. Those dark green were burning of dangerous promises, the growl under his tongue was audible. The surreptitious and svelte movements until she was backed into a corner were all reminiscent of a dangerous predator, a jungle cat. "This can't wait." Raven was almost sure he could hear her blood pounding in anticipation of whatever sinful act he planned to commit.

Her body's reaction could hardly be helped.

"What exactly can't wait?"

He pressed his lips to her neck. Nibbling and nipping with his hands disappearing under the sides of her shirt to massage her waist. Up and down, his fingers danced. And Raven could do little but whimper, feeling herself heat up faster than she had in the beach house's steam shower. And then, she melted. She was falling further into Damian's touch with her hands at last bringing themselves up to thread through his hair, as though to cement him even more tightly against her.

"My need for you... Something about you in the house I spent my summers in growing up..." Damian let out a ragged breath. "But not being able to touch you... I'm not going to make it..." He attacked her jawline, chin and cheeks with an onslaught of frantic, feverish kisses. "But, I promised myself I would wait..." Those green eyes singed her.

"Damian..." She gasped at his words, smoldering gaze, and his fingers sliding down the expanse of pale back before they ran across the dimples above her ass. Raven only managed to pull herself back a fraction of an inch. But he seized the change in perspective as an opportunity - to catch her earlobe between his teeth. "Damian, what if someone catches us?"

"Screw them... I need you." Damian murmured into her ear, clasping their palms together. "I wanted to do this right, but... I'm not used to you being so far from me." She hardly needed the reminder. The separate rooms. There was no cuddling, no spooning. No candles and late night kisses that turned into - this. "I'm suffering..."

So was she.

That was hardly fair.

Raven turned her face. "I'm a guest in this house. I'm your guest..." She angled her hip away from his, but he wrapped his fingers around it insistently. "It wouldn't exactly bode well for me if we hooked up here. Or now." Her argument dissolved away, diluted with his hands diving into divots and dips.

He grasped her chin. "Just one more kiss." Every letter pronounced like a purr brushing her mouth with their hot strokes. "I need another... That one wasn't long enough..."

"I can't - I shouldn't." Raven tried. Her hands were braced on his hard chest. The tautness of his muscles hardly helped. Every ab line and pec was heightened and heavy and wrought with tension under her touch. And it was all for her. But she couldn't. "It's your family, Damian... I want them to like me or at least tolerate me..."

She heard low grunts of frustration echo up his throat. "Raven, relax. Everything is fine... In fact, they could stand to like you less if you ask me," he said under his breath. "What does it really matter if we're caught?"

Raven felt herself recoil from him. No matter how much she didn't want to. "No, Damian. We can't." She turned her cheek. Pulling away and wiping her mouth. "And you can't just...kiss away the distance between us the last few days."

There was a tonal shift in the atmosphere. And his body went completely rigid and his expression went grave.

"Raven, what are you talking about?" Damian asked her, but he avoided her eyes for a second too long. It had to be true. He knew exactly what she was talking about. He flashed in palms in a wide armed surrender. "Look this weekend... It's not...what you think..."

"The separate rooms..." She said slowly. He wasn't looking at her. Raven's heart plummeted down to the soles of her feet. They weren't in lock-step. Things really had veered off course if they weren't in sync. "You do know what I think. You have for a while." Raven shook her head and turned on her heel.

This time, Damian didn't follow.

-----------

In the back of the Waynes's private beach, Raven sat alone facing the tides, her petite body elongated along the rail of the gazebo. She watched the waters wash away the sand, over and over, lapping at the shore.

Everything began to flow out of her.

There was a whole world Damian shared with his family that he had never shown her. She felt like she was getting to know him all over again. Normally she would have leapt at the chance to get to know her boyfriend even better.

But this was different.

What if the people who raised Damian decided they didn't like who he had become when he was with her?

Damian approached the small silhouette of a girl, her body overlaid on the rail of the gazebo, the connected arches carved in wood. He watched the way the wind whipped through her hair as she stared off into the sunset with the thick slip-covered book laying on her lap.

It was a framed photograph.

"You must be freezing." Raven turned to him when she felt a thick blanket drape across her shoulders. But, he sounded a bit worried and his brow creased with concern. "You missed dinner... When you weren't in your room. I thought... Part of me was afraid you..."

He stared at his feet in the sand. "You thought I left?" Out of the corner of her eye she saw him close his eyes, squeezing them shut. "I couldn't do that..." She tucked the blanket around herself. Suddenly Damian leapt up and grabbed her tight, holding her quietly. For several long moments, she felt the truth in each frantic pound of his heart. When it slowed at last, Damian exhaled and released her. Breathing heavily. "I missed a lot more than dinner... Didn't I?" Raven gave him a sad, knowing smile.

"What are you talking about?" Damian started. He stared oddly at her amethyst eyes. "Did someone say something to you? Was it Stephanie? Or Jason? Because I swear -"

"No - no." She said softly. Damian watched her, as the wind wildly swept strands of her black about her face. "I missed things... Like having a real family."

They were a part of him. They were a part of who he was before he met her. She knew she was the odd woman out, but being around them was nice.

Really nice.

"Oh..." Damian stared off at the water pensively. "No - if anything you lucked out..." He ran a hand through his hair. "They go overboard and they talk too much... They're annoying. They push your buttons and borrow your imported silk tie without asking -"

"You know that doesn't make them any less great..." Raven sighed. "In the back of my mind, I knew if I ever met them, they would be wonderful. They would have to be if they were your family. But... really they are..." Raven stared off at the fading red sphere on the waters, like a bright beacon. A guide... Or a warning. "And I'm not."

"What?" Damian spat harshly. Almost accusingly. "Raven, why would you say that?"

"Because... this is the Hamptons and this is your family..." She said quickly. "You're already notorious in Gotham, here you're practically royalty..." Raven fumbled. "I'm just an outsider."

It was hardly the Hamptons she cared about. Raven felt like the waters should rise up and take her away.

"No, that can't be it..." He shook his head. "You never cared about those things before." Damian's face bordered on anger. "What changed?"

Raven bit her lip, trying to contain it as she made sense of it in her own mind. "I met the most important people in your life and they're perfect." Raven confessed. "But your family probably wants you to date someone who's equally perfect. Someone who belongs with you..."

It would be far worse to lose Damian if they decided they didn't approve or didn't want her.

"You belong with me." Damian spoke as though she was delirious. He edged closer to her. "Everyone in my family has felt like an outsider at one point or another. Hell, we're not even all related. Most of us are adopted or step-somethings."

"You guys certainly fit together like you're related." Raven hadn't meant to sound accusing, but she couldn't help it. He had to realize that only served to make the family even more perfect - not less.

Just like Damian.

The pale girl shifted and dangled her legs off over the side of the gazebo as she faced him.

Those dazzlingly vert orbs were staring into hers, searching. "Are you regretting meeting my family?" He asked softly.

"No." Raven's pale feet kicked at the sand swept air absentmindedly, feeling childish as she did so. "I just wanted everything to go perfectly..." Then, even more so as she spoke the words aloud. "I wanted to make the best impression possible - I wasn't prepared and I didn't pack enough outfits or separates..." She dragged a hand down her face. "I didn't even know separates were their own clothing category until two days ago."

Damian fixed her a disbelieving stare. "Separates...?"

"I'll never fit in at a yacht club, I don't tan, and this is the one white dress I packed... " She gestured down to the loose linen mini dress. She was losing her nerve or her grip - she didn't know what, but she was losing it. "I hardly have enough white to make it through the rest of the trip -"

Her words died in her throat the second he placed those comforting hands onto her thighs. Holding her steady and supporting her with ease. "That's too bad." Raven froze and he smirked. "I'm sorry, but you have to stay for the whole weekend, my family already loves you... It's too late for you."

Her mouth opened and closed several times before she could finally bring herself to speak. "I made a horrible first impression..." Raven's lips parted. "And I was much too quiet... There's no way - they could...?" She couldn't bear to finish her words.

"I do... So why wouldn't they?" And Damian braced himself on the wood railing on either side of her hips and placed a long kiss to her forehead, trailing down to each of her cheeks and Raven promptly muffled her face into his chest.

She gasped. "Game night," Raven realized, wiping an escaped tear quickly. "Is it...too late for game night? Did I miss it?"

Damian traced her cheek with his fingers. "No, everyone waited for you. It's not a proper game night without you. You're one of us now." Damian smiled. For one long moment, his handsome face lit up, painted with vibrant reds, pinks, yellows, like the sunset. He looked ridiculously, genuinely happy in ways Raven had never seen before. And he captured her lips softly. Solidifying that fact. Driving it home over and over with his warm mouth caressing hers. She was one of them, she belonged.

"Okay... What about -" He kissed her again and pressed his forehead to hers.

"Don't worry. We'll get you more white -" Raven's entire being rose up with the tides at what he said next. "A dress..." It sounded like a promise of so much more. "The perfect white dress."

And true to Damian's words, Raven looked stunning in white.

Damian clasped her hand, stretching out their interlaced fingers between them, until only their pinkies remained linked before the colors of the sunset. And they walked with their bare feet kicking up the sand on the wind by the glistening water of the beach. Until they finally made their way to the back of the house where his family stood waiting.

They were silent - no chattering or arguing, but waiting patiently, tensely, or even eagerly.

With his other hand, Damian reached into his trouser pocket and dragged a finger once more over the black velvet box before squeezing it tight.

Yes.

He had known for a while.

That Raven belonged at his side, with his family all around them, wearing a white dress.

#damirae week 2020 #damiraeweek #damirae #demonbirds #raven #damian Wayne #raven roth #me #writing #fanfic #mini fic #raven x damian #batfam #meet the family #marriage #day 6 #hamptons #beach house #wayne #Last entry I swear - sorry for the lateness!!!!!! #I hope this isn't awful... #If it isn't completely terrible I may do more batfam in the future

[why-this-kolaveri-machi]

Dick and Jason are Robins at the same time

(titans ‘verse. au after 1.06)

(tagging @superohclair and @cautiousamber!)

-

1.

dick has to admit that it’s not the worst arrangement: jason continues to be robin in gotham, and dick travels across the country with his little family while running from a homicidal cult, wearing the costume every now and then when he has no choice but to fight. this way batman is covered, dick still has access to some advanced gear and weaponry now that he needs it, and internet sleuths are kept on their toes when robin shows up in different ends of the country on the same day.

so what if reading news coverage of batman and robin in gotham feels like being punched in the chest, or hearing jason’s stories about learning new things from bruce everyday makes dick want to scream into a pillow? he is fine with this.

he. is. fine--

(kory knows he’s fraying at the edges. she watches, and she says nothing.)

2.

the fight to help rachel and defeat trigon is long and hard, and involves painstakingly unravelling kory’s memories. they manage to find her spaceship, and it becomes their base for a good long while. they stay there long enough that dick loses some of the tension that’s had him on edge for... well. the better part of the last five years, to be honest.

dick begins training rachel and gar in earnest. kory is able to coax some memories of tamaranean cuisine and culture out, and dick is reminded more and more of the team that he lost everyday. despite his best efforts he’s invested now. he cooks and dances with kory (good thing he’s so flexible because the tamaranean version of a waltz is like a particularly sadistic game of twister), teaches rachel algebra and does yoga with gar. he even manages to forget about bruce for a bit.

jason shows up quite often when he figures out where they’re based, and after some initial tension, he becomes an unofficial member of their team (though at this stage dick is still reluctant to use that word). dick and jason patrol in the nearby city some nights, then go for ice cream later. dick’s even starting to see the strategic (and frankly comedic) potential of two robins on the same patrol. 

time and familiarity softens how dick perceives jason: less reckless asshole and more bright young kid full of curiosity and a need to prove himself. he continues to tend towards gratuitous violence, but dick learns his triggers and helps jason recognise them as well. he soaks up the info on alien cultures and battles on kory’s ship faster than dick himself could hope to, and there is a terrible sort of tenderness to how he talks to the people he saves while on patrol. terrible, dick thinks, because he doesn’t know if he comes across like that now at all: soft and empathetic instead of aloof and shaking, too caught up in his own neuroses.

here’s the thing, the crux of it, the faultline that’s always threatening to break dick apart: he’s so afraid that he’s taken robin, his legacy, the ideals and persona that he modelled as a tribute to his parents, and made it into something so dark and broken that only batman could pass it on. jason showing up as his replacement one day only seemed to affirm that fear. but now, swinging through the skies with this kid who’s taken robin as an opportunity to learn and grow and be better, dick’s reminded of the best of his early days in the costume. 

for the first time in what feels like forever, dick feels good about putting on the robin costume again.

3.

(are you asking if dick tried to call home? of course he did. he chickens out and cuts the call to bruce after only a few rings, and feels a sad sort of vindication in noticing how bruce never attempts to call him back.

alfred picks up his call on the second ring, and dick feels like the smallest person in the world when he hears the genuine warmth, joy and relief in alfred’s voice as he greets him. there’s no excuse for dick refusing to talk to the man that practically raised him after his parents died and he knows it. 

they talk for an hours while skirting around anything to do with bruce, which is an impressive feat all in itself. they finally talk about jason, and there’s a wistful sort of fondness in alfred’s voice as he says, “you’ve been a good influence on master jason.”

dick laughs. “he’s been a good influence on me.” it’s the first time he’s said it loud, but it feels true.

“you mustn’t underestimate the ways in which you change people, master dick,” alfred says. “you have been a light in our lives for so long.”

dick’s jaw clenches. all his memories of batman smudge together in never-ending shadow; when he thinks of bruce, he can only remember that remote expression on his face, that expression dick can project all his disgust and loathing and disappointment onto. maybe people should start considering how they influence me, dick wants to say. sometimes i can’t recognise who i’m seeing in the mirror every day and other times i hate him so much i want to--

“i miss you, alf,” he says instead, softly.

“my dear boy,” alfred starts, but he sounds choked. it’s ok. dick understands.)

4.

things get worse, quickly. their enemies find and destroy their spaceship base, and they’re not nearly ready to take on trigon yet. they’re on the run again, alternating between motel rooms and empty warehouses. 

the cult finally catches up to them; they are kidnapped and tortured for days in an abandoned asylum. they eventually escape, the building and the organisation in flames behind them, but the scars from the experience are deep: rachel is anxious and tearful almost all the time, gar’s usual cheer is replaced by a quiet, simmering self-loathing, kory refuses to talk about her experience but flinches at every touch, and dick... he feels like he’s been flayed, his mind and body laid raw and bleeding until nothing recognisable, nothing human is left. he can’t think, he can barely feel. half the time it feels like he’s observing what’s happening to him like it’s happening to somebody else entirely.

they’re a mess. he can’t do this, not when he feels like--like this. he resists calling anybody for help, but one night he breaks down and calls donna. he doesn’t remember what he says on the call, but wakes up the next morning, eyes raw, tear tracks on his face, and a text from donna that says: i’ll be there in a day. stay put, bw,

“wow you’re a mess,” jason says from a corner of the room. any other time, dick would be on his feet, demanding to know how jason found them. now though, he’s feeling out of his body again, and so he says, “i kind of am, aren’t i?” and watches the words float, parting the air above him.

jason sighs.

being with donna helps get his head on straight, even though at first her appearance threatened to bring back even more traumatic memories. she’s a soothing, sobering presence not just for him, but for the others as well. they continue to motel-hop as they prepare for their big final battle against trigon.

jason continues to find them, somehow. (dick wouldn’t put installing a tracker on one of them beyond him, but he’s much too tired to feel angry about that.) he chats with dick and sometimes they bond by watching a movie together or swinging from buildings in the chill, crisp night air, jason’s cackling laugh echoing in dick’s ears. 

jason always leaves as quickly as he appears, but dick is grateful for his presence.

5.

they defeat trigon, and there’s a party. even hank and dawn show up. jason is conspicuous in his absence.

after several unanswered texts and calls, dick bites the bullet and calls alfred. “hey alf,” he says when the man picks up, “is jason there?”

there’s a long pause at the other end of the line. then: “did master bruce not tell you?” his voice sounds uncharacteristically hoarse.

dick’s stomach starts to sink. he steps away from the others and into a quiet room. “tell me what?”

“master jason...” alfred sighs. “he--he was killed by the joker two months ago. the funeral was last week.”

dick stumbles back to sit on the bed. the phone threatens to fall from his numb fingers even while his heart thunders against his ribs. “that’s impossible,” he manages. “i saw him five days ago. we saw--” there’s a hysterical laugh building in his chest, howling like a thunderstorm, “fuck we saw moulin rogue together. he told me how much he fucking loves musicals, i--”

alfred’s voice is suddenly distant and tinny. dick looks down to see his phone on the floor. he’s suddenly very, very aware of the dryness of his palms, the hot flush at the tips of his ears, the tears that are starting to slide down his cheeks, the way his lungs are burning with shock and grief and rage--

“hey, dickie,” jason says, smiling at him. “glad you finally caught up.”

-

( send me an au and i’ll give you 5+ headcanons! )

#this got completely out of control #yikes #titans #my fic #dick grayson #jason todd #a byronic cupcake #a tragic jalebi #cw mental illness #ptsd #please let me know if i should tag/warn for anything #sillierthanasillylaugh

[putflowersinmyhair-callmepretty]

The fate of a nun (Finan x OFC); part 1

A/N: Hi there!

This story is my first attempt to write a fanfiction. English is not my first language, so feel free to let me know how to improve my writing/language skills 😊 I will try and post a chapter per week, let’s see how it goes! The story takes place in season 3 and you will notice that I have used some of the sequences and dialogues from the tv series, changing them to include my OC. I did try not to be too colloquial and informal with my writing -giving the time of the story- but I preferred to make it more enjoyable and “readable” than realistic, same goes for Finan’s accent. I’m nervous and excited to share my work, hope you enjoy! Bacini, Cate.

Summary: The life of the young novice Aoife completely changes when the Lady of Mercia arrives to the Abbey of Wincelcumb. Oaths, battles and love will turn her in a warrior.

 General warnings: Violence, Blood, Strong Language, Smut, Fluff, Graphic description of violence

 Chapter’s warning: Violence, Blood, Graphic description of violence

Words: 4981

Chapter One: The Lady and the nun

Abbey of Wincelcumb, Mercia

 “To be a girl is already a disadvantage.” the knight said, hitting the petite girl on her waist; she stumbled backwards, gripping her sword. It was heavy in her hand. “You are shorter.” he hit her on the shoulder “Weaker.” He held his sword at her throat, “You must be faster.” she gripped his wrist and dragged him closer with all her strength and while he moved onwards, she pulled a dagger out of her vest and pointed it under his chin, drawing out just a drop of blood. She smiled sweetly, looking at him from under her dark long lashes “And smarter.” She softly said. He pushed her dagger away and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. They were too close to be socially acceptable, but she didn’t want him to step away. She wanted him to make a woman out of her and something in his light blue eyes told her that he too was thinking of their late nights spent in the stables, the promises whispered in between kisses, the dreams of escaping together. He grazed his rough knuckles against her full cheek, whispering an intimate “Very good, lady.” “She is not a lady, she is novice.” Despite her old age and heavy figure, the Abbess had managed to slip behind them without a sound and was now watching them with her arms crossed and a look of disapproval on her stern face. With the agility of the warrior, the knight stepped away from the girl and lightly bowed to the nun “I meant no harm, Mother.” “She is young and innocent.” she hissed “I gave you a shelter and the permission to teach her to fight. Do not push your fortune, Lord.” “I am a Lord as much as she is a Lady, Mother.” The Abbess looked at him one last time, then turned to the girl “Aoife, you shall go pray.” with a last cunning smile to the man, the girl curtsied, spun on herself and run inside the nunnery. That was the last time Aoife saw Sir Cenric.

Abbey of Wincelcumb, Mercia. Two years later. Summertime.

 The girl kissed the horse between the eyes and jumped from the fence, cleaning her hands on the dress. She had blossom in a young woman of vibrant beauty; dark long hair run down her back, dishevelled and tangled by the wind; the apple of her cheeks was red and full, and a sprinkle of freckles adorned her straight nose. She wasn’t as petite as before, still short but with the agile and full body of someone who had spent half her life lifting and displacing weights. What she did not look like, without any doubt, was a nun. There was something too seductive in the curve of her full lips and in the way she moved. There was no mirror in the nunnery, but she had seen her reflection in the water of the stream, and she had liked it, she did look very pretty, and she acted on it. Singing lightly, she moved to the enclosure were the pigs were rolling in the mud. “Hello!” she cheered, pouring the food in their feeder “Eat and fat!” “Aoife!” the Abbess shouted from the entrance of the nunnery “Go wash! The Lady of Mercia is approaching!” She run down to the stream, heart beating fast against her chest. While undressing, she thought about the Lady, about the stories she had heard from the pilgrims. Lady Aethelflaed of Mercia was a lady warrior, respected as – if not more than – her Lord. And somewhere in her soul, Aoife found the hope of a new life in the service of the Lady, far from the nunnery she was forced in and closer to the adventures she had always dreamt. 

She reached the Abbey with drops of water falling from her hair and wetting her garment. The Abbess shot her a poisonous look when she entered the hall, but she was too focused on the Lady to notice. The young woman was sitting regally on the opposite side of the room, in front of her they had placed a plate of meat and a cup of red wine, but she didn’t appear hungry; she was talking animatedly, the sound of her voice sweet but confident. “Someone is threatening my life.” she was saying “And I am here to ask for shelter and protection.” “Of course, my Lady.” the Abbess answered immediately “Rooms shall be prepared for you and your guards. But the only protection we can guarantee are these walls and our prayers.” “And my sword!” Aoife said, without hesitation. Aethelflaed had not noticed the young girl yet, for her standing in the dark of the door. She was wearing the garment of the nuns, but the Lady could tell she was far from it. “Who are you?” she asked, curious. “She is a novice, my Lady. She has no vocation, but she is great help. A pilgrim taught her use the sword and she believes she will fight in battle one day.” “Thank you, Abbess, but I asked the girl.” Aoife smiled to the Lady and bowed “I am Aoife, my Lady. Just Aoife. I would like to offer you my protection, for the time you shall spend here and more, if requested.” Aethelflaed reciprocated her smile “I do need a maid.” 

Abbey of Wincelcumb, Mercia. Two years later. Wintertime.

“Tell me about your knight.” Aethelflaed asked one night. She had lived in the Abbey for months now and she had found herself growing fond of the young novice. That night, they were sitting on the Lady’s bed and Aoife was brushing her hair, preparing her for the night. She smiled wistfully at the question, images of a happier past invading her memory. “He came when I was fourteen, asking for shelter and cures. He was wounded and at the time I was helping in the nursery. We spent most of the day together, me healing his wounds, him telling me stories of the battles he had fought. He was handsome and a grown man and my only way out of this place. And I fell in love with him. When his wounds healed, he decided to stay to expiate his sins, or that is what he told the Abbess. I do believe, and I hope pride is not my sin, that he stayed for me. During the day he taught me to fight with a sword, a spear and my own body; and during the night he loved me and promised me children and a future together. Then one day, without a word, he was gone, leaving me nothing more than his weapons and my sore heart. Stuck in this place I strongly dislike.” Aethelflaed called her friend back to reality squeezing her hand firmly “I will not leave you here, Aoife. This is my oath to you.” Aoife smiled to the Lady, fondly “I oath my soul and my sword to you, my Lady. For all the time you shall need me, I shall be by your side”. 

At supper time, the nuns were eating, lightly conversing in small groups. The taste of the food had been better since the arrival of the Lady; the Abbess strongly believed that every pleasure was sin, but even she could not offer a Lady the bland broth they used to eat on wintertime. They were eating bread and a tasteful stew of meat and vegetables, which warmed the body and the soul. Aoife was savouring every spoon of it, eating slowly and in silence, eyes down on her plate. Aethelflaed had just asked the Abbess how she could bear living a life far from people and the Abbess was taking her time to explain what an honour and a pleasure it was to live in the service of God. Aoife decided not to pay close attention to the conversation, fearing that she would not be able to hold her tongue. And while she was slowly drifting in a lovely place of satiety and tiredness, three nuns burst out of the kitchen, fear on their faces. “Abbess! There are men in the kitchens! Danes!” Aethelflaed and Aoife jumped up, the first shouting orders to close the doors, the second already pushing the table against the main entrance. They asked the nuns to remain calm and quiet and have faith, but they exchanged a look and their hands flew to the hilts of their swords. Aoife could feel her heart beating furiously, she had never used her sword against a human being, she had never inflicted pain on a body, and she was scared. But she knew that the safety of her Sisters and her Lady depended on her bravery in that occasion. She gripped the hilt stronger and removed the blade from its sheath. She was ready. And then, the Abbess took the fool decision to talk “This is God’s house. You will leave at this very moment! If you do not and you are Christians, then He shall send you to the depths of hell.” “Abbess, they are Danes.” a nun remarked. “Well then, if you are heathens, He will strike you down!” “What if I’m Christian by birth and a Dane by my heart? What then?” a male voice came from behind them, Aoife turned around swiftly, one hand on her sword, the other searching the hilt of her dagger in the folds of her garments. She was taking aim, ready to throw it; but Aethelflaed voice stopped her “Uthred!” 

Aoife and the Abbess soon found out who the man was. Aethelflaed had told Aoife great stories about Uthred of Bebbanburg, born a Saxon, raised a Dane. He had sworn his sword to King Alfred but for reasons that even Aethelflaed didn’t know, he was now an outlaw of Wessex. He wasn’t outlawed in Mercia, though, and Aethelflaed had somehow reached for him when she had feared for her life; and he had come to help her, the daughter of the man who had outlawed him. It was bizarre, to say the least, but Aoife admired him, for honouring his oath of protection to the Lady. She had caught her friend looking at him with loving eyes, more than once, and she would ask about it later. She did understand Aethelflaed, of course; Uthred was a handsome man, a combination of delicate and harsh feature, an interesting look. With him had come a diverse group of people; there were Danes and Christians in his entourage, a young monk and an even younger Dane sorceress, as beautiful as dangerous looking. She sat at the table with the Lord, followed by the monk and two other men, a Dane and another one, perhaps a Saxon, but she wasn’t sure. He was the most handsome man Aoife had ever seen. He was also intimidating, tall and strong, with full hair and beard darkest than the night, harsh the lines of his scarred face. However, a light of kindness was gleaming in his black eyes, and he shot Lady Aethelflaed a smile before sitting heavily on the bench. Food was brought for the warriors as they were all sitting around the table, Aoife squeezed between the Lady and the Abbess. She could not take her eyes off the warrior; he really was handsome, and not many men had passed through the Abbey after Cenric. She was young and in the blossom of love desires, it was no sin to watch. Of course, she could feel Aethelflaed and the Abbess’ gazes on her cheeks, the first repressing a smile, the second ready to send her to bed if the situation would get worse. She did not want another Sir Cenric in her Abbey. The warriors too had noticed the young nun interest in their companion, Uthred had to cover a laugh with a cough when his eyes met those of the Lady of Mercia. The warrior himself was trying not to be affected by the girl staring at him; he was used to the attentions of women, married and unmarried. He had struck women prettier than that girl, prettier than Lady Aethelflaed herself; yet, he had never felt as abashed as under the gaze of that young nun. She was, without doubt, pretty; not even the unpleasant garment of the nuns could wash down the colour from her sweet face, and he had never seen bigger eyes, nor longer lashes. But it wasn’t her appearance to make his head light, it was the intensity of her gaze that was digging into his scarred soul and planting there the seed of a fatal attraction. He felt in his bones, that she was meant to be either his eternal happiness or his final destruction. Not without difficulty, he directed his attention to the Lady of Mercia. “Your guards are not, Lady.” he mumbled while chewing down his food; he had a strong, thick accent, it was sure he was no Saxon nor Dane, but she couldn’t figure out where he came from. “Not what?” Aethelflaed asked. “They are not guards.” the young Dane at his right added “Their swords are trinkets.” “They are good men.” “I am sure they are loyal” the warrior continued “but they are not guards.” “They are bad men.” Uthred agreed and his eyes turned to Aoife. He shot her a smile. “She is braver than any of them.” he looked at the hilt of the sword shining against her hip “Where did you get that sword, nun?” Aoife could feel the foreigners’ eyes on her, and her cheeks warmed up, but she proudly lifted her chin to answer. She could not, however, interrupted by the Abbess. “I do not like you, young man. You have a very high opinion of yourself.” Aoife turned to look at Aethelflaed and they both found it hard to repress a smile. Uthred was looking at the Abbess with no sign of embarrassment on his face. “I am a heathen, I am godless, and an enemy of Alfred.” He said harshly “But I will save your lives.” Aoife liked Uthred, he was intriguing and clearly a good man, but she agreed with the Abbess when she stated that the man was telling them half-truths. What was the real reason for his coming? She was sure Aethelflaed knew it too. Most of all, she couldn’t stand the Dane witch; she was arrogant and rude and made her feel unsafe and uncomfortable. When she called the Abbess a hag, Aoife’s gripped her dagger in hatred. The Abbess was indeed a strict woman, but she had raised her and showed her love and kindness in her own bizarre way; she was like a mother for Aoife and she would not let some Dane treat her that way. Aethelflaed squeezed her hand to urge her to let go of the dagger “Aoife.” she whispered warily “No.” She was her Lady, after all, and Aoife obeyed quickly; but her action didn’t go unnoticed by the warriors who were now watching her cautiously. She smiled timidly at her friend and hid her face behind her cup of water. The handsome warrior was still staring at her. 

Aoife was sent by the Abbess to prepare the room for the warriors; she knew it was meant to keep her away from the men and she didn’t blame the nun; she was young and beautiful and warriors were known for taking what they wanted from girls like her. She was filling a pot with clean water for them to wash away the dust of the ride when she heard steps behind her. She spun quickly, sword in hand. The warrior was standing in the doorframe, hands raised and a crooked smile on his face. “I didn’t intend to straddle you, Lady.” She was breathing heavily, hand shaking around the sword “What do you want, warrior?” His smile grew wider “I don’t want to harm you, if that’s what you’re thinking.” he moved slowly to the chair and sat down; she pondered the danger and decided to keep her distance. “I will not come closer.” he insisted “I just wanted to introduce myself, my Lady.” “I am no lady.” she answered harshly “What are you then? A nun? A warrior?” “I am a woman, is it not enough?” “I didn’t mean to insult you; I’m just curious on why a simple woman knows how to wield a sword and would risk her life for a Lady. Are you Aethelflaed’s guardian?” Aoife laughed, she was letting her guard down “I don’t guard the Lady, I help her.” Finan watched the girl relax a little, her grip on the sword not as steady as before. He could easily disarm her if he wanted to, but he wished to keep talking with her. Her soft Saxon accent was a pleasure to his ears, used to the noise of the warriors. He leant back against the chair, arms crossed over his chest “And what is the name of the helper?” “Aoife.” a stern voice answered from behind him. The Abbess seemed to take great pleasure in interrupting her conversations, Aoife noticed. She was staring the warrior up and down suspiciously, until her eyes fell on the cross hanging from his neck. “You are a Christian.” she stated and lost some of her composure. “I am, Mother.” He answered calmly, he did know how to enchant any type of woman. “I was raised as a god-fearing man.” “But I can tell you are no Saxon.” “Born in Ireland.” “And you swore your sword to the heathen.” “We are bonded, him and I, Abbess.” The Abbess raised her guard again and she turned her attention to the girl “I will not let it happen again, Aoife. You know how these stories end. Go back to your room and pray.” Aoife bowed slightly “Yes, Abbess. Goodnight, Lord.” The man watched the girl crumble under the Abbess’ words; she looked younger that she already was. Aoife. She walked straight for the door, head down to hide the tears of embarrassment that threaten to spill, when she passed close to the warrior, she heard him say, as low as a breath of wind, “Finan.” 

Aethelflaed was already in bed when Aoife entered the room. “Where were you?” “Making the room for the warriors.” She sat near her legs on the bed “I met Finan.” “You were making love eyes at him at dinner.” the Lady laughed, kicking her friend’s hip lightly. “You were making love eyes at Lord Uthred! I was only admiring a handsome man; they are rare in a nunnery!” Aethelflaed laughed. It was a delicate laugh, very regal and feminine, Aoife had felt envious of her Lady, many times each day, and she did again at that point. She was beautiful, elegant, feminine and at the same time a strong, intelligent, independent warrior. And she was just Aoife, pretty and clever enough, but clueless of the world and people. “Uthred is a strange man. I could never fully understand him. I don’t think anyone will ever. But he is loyal and kind and merciful. And his men are the same. Especially Finan, his closer friend, his right hand. I would not oppose a marriage between the two of you.” It was Aoife time to laugh, she stood up and turned her back to the Lady, before she could see how red her cheeks had turned. She blew on the candle and the dark fell on the room “You need to sleep, Lady. You are lovesick and don’t know what you are saying.” “Perhaps, my friend. Time will tell.” 

They were once again eating, sitting around the table in the hall. The Abbess was less than pleased with the men gorging themselves with the provisions for the long winter; however, Lady Aethelflaed had promised to repay the Abbey entirely. She was much more worried for Aoife, who once again was sitting in silence, food untouched in front of her, watching with desire and curiosity the Irish warrior. She didn’t know where she did wrong with that girl, she raised her as any other novice and she was, without doubt, a good Christian woman, but she was no nun. The Abbess could see on her unripe face the desire of being loved, not only and solely by God, but by a man in flesh; she was fond of the girl and she wanted the best for her. Therefore, before going to ask the nuns in the kitchens to bring more food, she sat down next to the Lady of Mercia, immediately catching her attention. “How can I help you, Abbess?” “I have a favour to ask, Lady. It concerns Aoife.” she looked at the girl with a sweet smile “She is a smart, kind woman, but she is no nun. When the time comes, please, take her with you, Lady. She deserves the life she desires, outside of these walls.” Aethelflaed held the Abbess’ hand, squeezing it gently “I promise I will, Abbess.” The Abbess stood up and thankfully bowed, before leaving for the kitchen. Aoife had followed the conversation from the corner of her eye, but too far to hear what they were saying. She took the Abbess place near her noble friend “What did she say?” “She asked me to drag you away from here. She said you are Satan in the flesh and she doesn’t want you anymore.” the woman answered, stifling a laugh, Aoife pushed her with her shoulder “You would be lucky to have me by your side, Princess.” Before Aethelflaed could reply, the Abbess barged into the hall, closing the door behind her with shaky hands. Everybody stood up, Aoife right behind Aethelflaed. “What is it?” Uthred asked, while Aethelflaed was calling “Abbess?” “Danes. Outside.” the nun answered at short of breath, she was visibly shaken, and Aoife was quickly at her side, upholding her fragile body. Uthred and his men continued asking question and pulling out their swords; Aoife was next to Aethelflaed once again, sword in her left hand, dagger in her right. “They may not know we are here” Uthred was saying to his men. They were discussing the situation, and Uthred finally decided “We wait inside, and we remain silent. Abbess you will go to them and talk with them.” “No, no I will not.” she said, stepping backwards. Aoife was ready to catch her if she passed out. “Yes, you will, because you must.” Uthred replied, as kindly as possible, given the situation. He explained them all the plan: she had to try and convince the Danes that Aethelflaed was not in there, to waste some time so they could take advantage from it. He tried once again to convince the Abbess, telling her that it was the only way to save the nuns and his men. And Aethelflaed, of course. The Abbess looked so shaken and scared that Aoife felt the need to protect her. “I will do it.” she declared, stepping in front of the nun. She saw Aethelflaed tensing up next to her, but she would not let the Lady stop her from protecting her home. However, the Abbess took her hand into hers, with a low “No”; she squeezed them hard putting in that gesture all the love she had never expressed in words but had always felt for the young woman. “No. This is my home, my responsibility.” she looked the Dane straight in his eyes “I will do it.” and with a last squeeze on Aoife’s hand, she left the room. From the window at the left of the door, Aethelflaed and Aoife watched the Abbess approach the Danes. She looked and sounded as the proud woman Aoife had always known her to be, and the girl was smiling, proud of being raised by her, a powerful independent woman. She stood her ground proudly but cautiously until the very last moment, when a Dane cut the throat of the last guard alive and she lost her head completely. She screamed for the Danes to take her instead, she insulted them and, in a last desperate attempt to save them all, she grasped the axe from the stump. She wasn’t even able to throw it before she was struck by a spear that pierced her front to back. Aoife watched the Abbess fall to the ground, a rag doll under the force of the stroke. The scream that was leaving her mouth was muffled by a strong callous hand. Finan had reached her and with a hand on her mouth pleaded her to make no sound. “They will kill us all, Aoife. Please.” He wiped away the hot tears that were falling from her eyes and lightly stroked her cheek with his rough thumb. She felt as if anger and sadness could kill her and, for the first time in her life, she wanted to inflict pain on someone. On the Dane who had killed the woman that had raised her. She nodded and the Irishman let go of her as quickly as he had reached her; she tightened her grip around Cenric’s sword, feeling the power of the warrior growing in her, fed by the darkness that was covering her soul.

When the Danes burst in the room, Aoife was ready. Hitting people was harder that she thought; the sword shook in her hands every time she hit bones, splashes of hot blood exploding on her face and her vest. Every stroke she placed was stronger than the previous. She knew that Aethelflaed wasn’t in the fray, Uthred had been irremovable about it, but he had been unable to stop Aoife from participating; she wanted her vengeance, and he could not deny her that. However, she was aware that Uthred had asked Finan to stay close to her, preventing her from being killed. She could see him from the corner of her eyes, expert in the art of sword. And thanks God that she was keeping an eye on him too because she noticed the Dane charging Finan from behind, sword in front of him. Later, Aoife would have remembered those moments as the longest of her life. She would have remembered the weight of the dagger in her right hand, her voice as that of someone else screaming for Finan to duck, the whistle of the blade cutting the air and the dull sound of it penetrating the Dane’s neck. She would have remembered in her worst nightmare the man staring her straight in the eyes while life was leaving his body, the thud of his knees hitting the hard floor and a last, pathetic gurgling. The Danes then retreated outside the Abbey, and she reached for the dead man to recollect Cenric’s dagger from his still warm body. She knew Finan was standing behind her, even before he opened his mouth. “You saved my life.” he stated, and she turned around in silence, accepting his help to stand up. She had no words left to answer, too shaken to care for it. And she left him there, surrounded by dead bodies of Danes and Saxons. 

She had been guided to the bench by unknown hands. She could hear the Danes outside blocking the entrance, and inside Aethelflaed and Uthred discussing, while the warrior were taking the weapons out of the dead bodies. However, it was all no more than a noise in the distance of her mind. She couldn’t think of anything else but the lifeless bodies of the Abbess and the Dane. She could also feel blood drying on her skin, but she could not push herself to care about it. The Abbess was dead. She had killed a man. Her ears couldn’t catch the words of Aethelflaed, nor those of the warriors, everything a buzz in her mind. Was she about to die? “Are you alright?” a kind voice asked from her side. It was a warrior, a Saxon she could guess from his accent. He was covered in dirt and blood, but she could see that he was young, probably around her age. She nodded slowly, fiddling with her hands, as dirty as those of the warrior. “It will be all right, Lady. Lord Uthred is planning to negotiate, and his plans always work.” he continued. His words swept some of the clouds away from her mind. Negotiation? Was Aethelflaed in danger? The warrior hands were on her as soon as she gripped her sword “He will not hand the Lady to the Danes.” he assured her “It’s not clear what he would do, but that’s not it.” he searched someone with his eyes “Look, she is safe. There.” he pointed to the door of the nunnery; Aethelflaed was being escorted by two men as far as possible from the entrance, where she would be safer. Aoife stood up, once again sword ready, but a large, rough hand lower her blade, delicately. “There’ll be no need of your sword now, Aoife.” Finan smiled down at her “You will hide and wait for it to be over.” he stopped her protests simply raising a finger “You have done enough. Stay here.” Aoife would have never imagined that Uthred was so quick on his mind. He was able to strike a bargain with the Dane and offer him the Dane seer in place of Aethelflaed and, as quick as they arrived, the Danes were gone. Once sure of her Lady’s safety, she crawled upstairs to her room and threw up in her piss pot. She then fell asleep on the floor, covered in blood, dirt and tears.

Aoife was shaken awake when the sun was already high in the sky; Aethelflaed was kneeling next to her, clean face but tormented eyes. “Aoife stand up. We are to leave this place.” Chapter Two.

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